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emotionallyattachednerd · 8 months

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Rightfully His ❙ TP Optimus Prime x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: Smut ( Fingering and spike penatration ) low angst, possessive behaviour, jealous behaviour, size difference and robot x human. NSFW 18+.

Notes: You people are sluts for dom Optimus, and I don't blame any of you. He a snack! Um, so, here you go you filthy animals.🥰

Also to add, Optimus Prime is using mass-displacement, though he's still large, if you get what I mean. I didn't want this to be a repeat from the first one I did so that's why I went with this approach.

A day at the beach sounded perfect. Optimus was kind enough to drive you there himself. You enjoy spending time with him. Though once there he would need to remain in his vehicle mode while you take a dip.

Wearing your favourite bathing suit you take a dive and enjoy yourself, waving at Optimus with a beaming smile which everyone will see as you waving at a truck. Not weird at all.

While you were enjoying yourself a few guys approached you. They introduced themselves as you did too, making small talk. They were nice, and the casual talk turns into flirting, and you can't help but beam in return with a flushed face.

It's not often guys flirt with you so it was kind of nice to have it happen, though you weren't really looking for any kind of relationship at the moment. You already had your eyes on someone but you doubted they felt the same back, so you didn't hold your breath about it.

For now you enjoy the attention from these guys.

Not aware, Optimus watches. Being in his vehicle mode you couldn't tell he was glaring hard at the guys, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and hide you from their prying eyes.

What bothers him more is that you're enjoying the attention.

It's not until afterwards that you finally leave the beach and jog towards Optimus' truck form. He stares at your breasts under the bikini bouncing with each move and that makes him groan lowly.

"That was just what I needed. Thanks Optimus, it was really nice of you to drive me." You say happily as I put the towel on the leather seat and sat on it so you don't get too wet or sand everywhere.

This was a last night thing so you didn't bring any spare clothes.

"So, you had fun?" Optimus asks through a hint of dullness, which you didn't pick up on right away.

"So much fun!" You continue to beam softly before relaxing against the seat. "So, my place? Wouldn't want you returning to base at a late hour."

"Of course." Optimus can only sigh before leaving the beach with the sunset setting across the long strip of road. The drive is perhaps an hour from your place, so you get comfortable.

Optimus watches you as he drives, stretched out on the seat wearing only your bikini, skin damp as the setting sun glitters across you. He notices your perky nipples through your thin top. He lets out a low groan, forcing himself to rev his engine to try and hide it, which doesn't work as you pick up on this.

"Are you alright?" You question curiously.

"I'm fine." His answer was dull and that's when you start noticing his odd behaviour.

"You don't sound fine." You point out, more curious as you sit up more against the seat. "What's wrong?"

Optimus knew he wasn't able to hide it anymore, not after so long. "Those men from the beach, they seemed very friendly with you."

"Oh those guys? Yeah I guess they were. It's nice to be noticed honestly." You can't help but giggle lightly.

"You liked the attention they gave you." He adds and that's when you furrow your brows. He goes on before you can answer. "You were friendly back, smiling, blushing. Do you often flirt with other men like that?" Now this is weird to you.

"Um...I don't know, I guess? It's not everyday I have guys flirting with me. Why does that bother you?" You can't help but cross your arms.

It was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I don't want you flirting with other men, or accepting such behaviour from them towards you." He can't be serious?

You can't help but let out a scoff. "Seriously? Optimus, it's harmless flirting. Besides, why do you care? It's not like we're dating." You answer through an annoyed pout.

It's Optimus. He's the one you've got your eyes on. From the moment you both first met you've been overly fascinated by him, and you're already friendly with him, taking any chance to spend time with the big bot. But you were both completely different and you don't think he felt the same way towards you, so you never advanced to push your friendship any further.

However, now it seems things are getting on thin ice.

"Jesus Christ, you sound so jealous. No, you don't get to be jealous, alright? If I'm going to flirt with guys then I'm going to flirt!" You are honestly annoyed. How dare he!

"No." His simple answer doesn't settle well with you.

"No?"

"No. You won't. That's an order." This is getting out of hand.

"An order? No, you don't get to order me around! We're not dating!" You had to repeat again.

"Are you refusing to follow my order?" You have no idea what's wrong with him, or why he is behaving like this. Surely he doesn't have feelings for you?

"Yes...I'm disobeying your order, Optimus Prime! Fuck you!" You lose your temper as you shout, feeling both angry and emotional.

Suddenly the seat belt tightens around your body and pins you against the leather seat causing the air in your to be pushed out.

"Optimus?" You can't help but whisper his name, staring at the dashboard as if that's where he is staring at you from while he drives.

"I'm taking you back to base." He simply answers, tone casual and dark at once.

Swallowing thickly you try to adjust yourself but he made it hard with just how tight the seat belt was on you and he wasn't going to loosen his hold on you.

"N-no, I said take me home." You remind him but he refuses.

"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and reminded." This get's your heart racing. What is he talking about?

"Lesson? Reminded? Of what?" You can't help but question.

"That you're mine."

His? What the hell is he saying?

You couldn't move and you heart rate wouldn't slow down. Optimus has never spoken to you like this before and that kind of scared you. He is acting possessive, as if you really did belong to him but you didn't. Right?

The rest of the drive was dead quiet. You can't bring yourself to say anything or even struggle, and your heart rate never once slowed down.

Once returning no one else was around you figured this out. Optimus transformed with you still inside him which he's never done before. It makes you yelp in surprise before oyu find yourself in his servo.

He doesn't look down at you as he walks into his quarters and over to his berth where he finally places you. Stepping back he stares, watching you. You are still damp from the beach and in your bikini you can only sit there and stare back, breathing heavily, wondering just what he is thinking.

Finally he moves towards you. He sat on the berth right beside you making your breath hitch, before something happened you didn't think possible. His large frame starts shifting, shrinking himself until he is at her level.

The sudden action leaves you speechless, unable to form words as you stare at him. He still has that firm stare on him and you go to say something but he cuts you off.

"Remember, you're here so I can remind you who you belong to." Your response is to give a nervous nod, but you can't help the thrill that burns through your core.

"Optimus, you sound upset?" You manage to say through a shaky breath. "Have I hurt you?"

"You have." His answer is not what you expect. "For a long time I've admired you, wanted you, but I saw you felt something towards me but I feared I might've been wrong. Seeing you with those humans, that bothered me. I don't want you doing that anymore."

"Anymore? So...what does this mean? What am I to you?"

"You're mine. That's what."

Suddenly he leans closer and you find yourself laying back on the berth where he had laid a blanket for you. He's hovering across your shivering body, his shadow consuming you.

"What are you doing?" You whisper through a heated gasp. Your body was reacting in a whole different way, one that is arousal.

"What I've wanted to do for a long time." Suddenly, he kisses you.

You can only let out a muffled yelp against his lips, which are oddly enough soft and warm. You respond through a low throaty moan, hand sliding up against his cheek plating as you savour his lips. You've imagined this for so long but never thought it would be this beautiful to feel the primes lips against your own.

Optimus responds back through a deep moan himself before gently pushing his glossa inside your mouth making you gasp and return the same with your own tongue. Both your hands were against him, caressing his face and slowly deepening the kiss more.

You love him. That's right. As silly as it might sound, you have been deeply in love with Optimus for a long while. But now, he was your obsession, an addiction you craved. All this time he wanted you and you had no idea. He was good at hiding it. Not anymore.

His servos move across your body, dancing over your quivering skin before feeling his digits tug at your bikini bottoms, the lace flying loose as he tosses them aside. Next is your top and that is gone pretty quickly with some help from you.

Bare naked, you wrap your arms around his neck and move your thighs up over his hips, grinding yourself against his plating which causes him to moan back in approval.

You need him, you want him, you ache for him.

"Optimus..." His name whispers from your lips as his mouth moves to your neck where he gently nips against your tender skin. "Feels so good."

"I only want you to feel good, and to know only I can ever do this to you." He says softly before moving his servo down to your core where he rubs his digit between your folds before gently pushing one inside your depths.

The sudden feel of his thick digit makes your back arch and he doesn't stop there, pushing further and curling into your clenching walls.

You respond perfectly, hips arching up and grabbing hold onto his shoulder pads, moaning loudly without any care who might hear you, and it didn't seem to bother Optimus either.

"I want everyone to know you belong to me, y/n." He says once again, as if you had forgotten. His digit pumps into you before he adds a second, stretching you so nicely. "I want you to be mine. Do you want me to be yours?"

"Yes!" You answer with glee and without doubt. "You, I want you!"

Optimus smiles hearing this. "Good."

He removes his digits from you and you grab hold of his servo, bringing it back up and sucking at his moist digits, letting out a low moan as you taste yourself.

Optimus lets out a low growl of approval as his vents kick in, metal heating up as his throbbing cable presses against his panel, demanding to be released.

You feel him rutting gently against your bare core, moaning loudly as your swollen clit grind against his plating. You needed him inside you, now!

"Optimus," you whisper his name into his audio before finishing, "Fuck me."

Any self control was gone.

You hear the sound of metal shifting, Optimus as well, before suddenly feeling the warm tarped tip of his cable pressing against your core and moving within, not holding back as he fills you completely, flushing his hips against you firmly.

The sudden fullness feeling his throbbing spike invade you is an experience you only ever imagined, and it's nothing compared to the real thing. He fills you so much, to the point you hiss through a moan and move your hand to your belly where you feel the tightness, only to gasp when you feel a bulge caused by Optimus.

"So full..." You moan out. "Feels good."

"Y/n." Optimus whispers your name as his optics flash through the arousal he was feeling building through him.

"Please move, I need to feel you fuck me, please." You plead while you caress his face under your hands, biting your lips as you clench around his more get him going.

Optimus does as you want, or what he wants, whichever it is. He rolls his hips back before driving forward again, pushing more deep beautiful moans from your plump lips.

His pace doesn't flatter as you wrap you legs tightly around his rocking hips, tugging him against you more as you hands grip into whatever armour plating you can get your hands on.

You feel every ridge of his throbbing spike brush along your inner walls, the tip pressing up against your belly, bobbing with each thrust Optimus gives you.

All you can do is pant and hold on, embracing your desires and what you've dreamed of now finally coming true. If only you knew he could change his size, perhaps you might've said something sooner about your strong feelings towards him and avoided the fight you two had.

It doesn't matter. The past is the past, and this is now, moving forward.

Optimus lets out long groans as he fills you over again before adjusting himself a little, and gaining a better angle before his movements become more firm and short.

The sound of his soft metal slapping against your damp skin filling both your ears and his audios added to the growing pleasure between you both.

One servo grips into your hip as he sets a more firmer pace, grunting out as you clench more around him, making it very difficult for him to hold himself from finishing so soon.

But you want it, to feel his fluids fill you deeply right now. You'll have other opportunities to explore and experience another time. This won't be the only time that you know.

"Please, Optimus, I want you to fill me so badly! Don't hold back, please. Just let me feel it all, please! I'm yours! Only yours!" You can't help but chant over again through your arousal as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasim.

Through your chanting Optimus lifts your hips up and ruts against your core, speed strong as his vents kick in and throat moans grow more furiously.

You let out a half broken sobbed cry of bliss as you suddenly feel your orgasim crush through you, and Optimus at the same time let out a strong burst of energy as he fills you deeply with his fluids, belly full of his spike and the warm liquid he spills within.

Holding on you relish every second, body shaking through the after shocks of your orgasim before eventually he slowly pulls out from you, feeling so empty now as some of his fluids follow behind.

In your orgasim daze you didn't realise that Optimus had turned back to his normal size self and held you close in his warm servo.

As you lay in his servo you curl your body around his digit before he brings you closer to his face where he gives you a soft nuzzle making you smile and hum in return.

Even after being in control and possessive over you, he also has some loving aftercare for you in store. He cares about you deeply, you know this, and you care about him.

"You'll always be mine. Understood?" Optimus says tenderly and you can only nod softly, having no complaints about that.

"Always. Does this mean we're dating?"

"How about I take you on a date?" The offer makes your belly fill with warmth.

"I would love that."

"Then we're dating." He confirms proudly.

You are rightfully his.

#transformers #optimus prime #prime #reader insert #optimus prime x reader #robot x human #possessive optimus prime #dom optimus prime #possessive #smut #For all the optimus prime sluts!#fanfiction #writing #sugarrusheag

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months

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Title: Saved And Fucked By The Moth Man.

Pairing: Mothman x F. Reader (Cryptozoology).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Death/Gore, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Inhuman Anatomy, Generalized Monster-Fucking, Car Crashes, Reader's Pretty Questionable In This One, and Blood.

Based On The Results of This Poll.

You thought it could’ve been a bird, at first.

A raven, or a crow – you weren’t entirely sure. Something big and black that flew so quickly, you hadn’t been able to make out anything more specific than a dark blur and the vague impression of feathers before it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the forest before you could realize that you'd reflexively swerved to avoid it, before you could do anything to stop yourself from crashing into the base of an oak so tall and so opposing, it wouldn’t so much as shake under the force of the collision. By the time you stumbled out of your wrecked car, the windshield shattered and the engine utterly decimated, whatever threw you off-course had been gone, and you’d been left alone on a country backroad in the middle of nowhere - bruised, sore, and miles away from the nearest city. Really, the only way your night could get worse was if—

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, quaking through the otherwise silent forest. You glanced up, searching for the sky through the dense canopy of overlapping branches and finding it overcast. It’d rain, pretty soon, and you’d be left lost, injured, and drenched.

Well, at least now, it really couldn’t get any worse.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed your back against the most in-tact side of your car, checking if you had reception for the millionth time. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, your battery was in the single digits – too low to justify using your flashlight and risking leaving yourself alone in the dark with a dead phone and no way to call for help if you did, somehow, manage to make it to the border of civilization.

You considered crawling into what was left of the backseat of your car, turning off your phone, and hoping someone else drove down this godforsaken road in the morning, but before you could let exhaustion dampen your better judgement, you heard something in the woods rustle, the sounds of displaced leaves and cracking twigs standing out against the stillness of the woods. Somewhat hesitantly, you turned towards the disturbance, half-expecting to see wolves or coyote or, as unlikely as it was, the same over-sized bird that’d gotten you into this, but instead, much to your relief, you found a group of three men – hunters, judging by the riffles slung over their backs, the dirt caked into their shoes. None of them were wearing visibility gear, and you couldn't say it seemed like a great idea to go skulking through the forest in the middle of the night, but you were already out of your comfort zone. You couldn’t be sure what people walking around in the woods at night were supposed to look like, and at that point, you didn’t really care.

You grinned, moving to call out to them, but the oldest of the group was already addressing you, already stepping out of the forest and onto the road. “What do you think you’re doing out here, darlin’?”

Your expression faltered, but you kept your spirits up. It was fine. This was fine. You could deal with a little backwoods chauvinism until you got to a mechanic. “Got into an accident,” you said, nodding towards where your car where it bent around the oak’s trunk. “No service, either. I guess I wouldn’t be able to bother one of you kind people to call a tow truck, would I?”

There was a long, silent pause. The two younger men exchanged a glance. Again, the oldest spoke to you. “This is private property, y’know. Not a lot of folks come through this patch of woods.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I… I’m just in town for the convention.” One of the younger men slid his rifle off of his shoulder, taking it in both hands. The other followed in-suit. “It’s a beautiful area. If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it was here.”

“So, no relatives nearby? Nobody who’d notice if you didn’t get home in the mornin’?”

You pressed yourself against the dented metal, your smile now strained. “You know what?” You asked, forcing out an airy chuckle. “I think I’ll just walk for it. How far could the next town be, right?”

He held up a hand, signaling to the rest of his group. You heard something click, caught boots scraping against rough pavement, and watched a broad grin form across the older man’s features. “Looks like there’s gonna be a hunt tonight after all, boys.”

Your first reflex was, somewhat counterintuitively, to laugh. The sound was jarring, too loud and too stilted, cutting your lips and catching in your throat like pieces of broken glass.

Your second, triggered when one of the younger men moved to step toward you, was to run for your life.

Without thought, without hesitation, you broke into a dead-sprint. There was a holler behind you, a round of hollow clicks and earth-shaking thuds, and then, they were chasing you.

You couldn’t be sure how far you made it. It felt like you ran for seconds, or days, or years. It felt like you traveled miles, or feet, or just a few steps. Everything looked like the same repetitive blur of trees taller than your eyes could follow and roots that jutted from the earth like pikes. Their footsteps remained constant, never growing closer or farther away, always lingering somewhere just behind you, always just barely breathing down your neck. Fuck this. Fuck your car. Fuck this entire goddamn town and their stupid convention. If you made it out of this alive, you’d spend the rest of your life as far from this state as you could get. Coming here had been a stupid idea to begin with, a spontaneous trip planned at the last minute and based on a half-baked desire to see something that probably didn’t even exist. You just thought you might’ve been able to see—

Your foot caught on a half-buried stone, and you were sent crashing into the earth, your shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. You were left on the ground, cursing under your breath and holding your aching arm as you scrambled to get back on your feet, to keep moving before your would-be murderers caught up with you. You weren’t fast enough, though – you couldn’t be, not when they’d always been on your heels, not when you’d already given them an opportunity to put their quarry out of its misery. You’d barely started to push yourself up when they emerged from the tangle of trees, guns cocked and hunting knives drawn. You shrunk into yourself, threw your arms over your face in a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, despite knowing that a bullet would tear through your skin like paper, despite being able to picture your body lying lifeless on the forest floor, bleeding out in the dirt like a wild animal. The last thing you saw was the oldest man, raising his riffle and aiming towards your chest before you shut your eyes.

You heard a shot, sudden and deafening, but the impact never came.

You felt something whip past you. There was a scream, wordless and torn and cut short with a ragged screech and a wet, visceral sound – like flesh being carved open, like teeth tearing into raw meat. It was all you could do to curl into yourself, sinking into your self-made shelter as the forest descended into the sounds of carnage, only falling silent when there was nothing left to cut down. Even then, it took you long, agonizing seconds to open your eyes, to take in the gore splattered across the grass and dirt, the guns that’d been bent and twisted into shapes they weren’t meant to hold. A disembodied leg laid to your side, the torso it’d been ripped from impaled on a branch nearly twenty feet off of the ground. Clumps of torn muscle and split entrails shined reddish-silver in the limited moonlight, but you could only focus on the gore for so long.

Only a few yards away, a man stood in front of you. Only, it wasn’t a man, not really, not when you looked beyond its – his? hers? theirs? – vaguely humanoid form. Its long legs and lanky arms were coated in a thin layer of grey, shaggy fur that grew shorter and finer over its defined chest. You could make out curved talons extending from its massive hands, a pair of ringed antennae curled back along its scalp, a pair of tattered wings folded against its back. Its head might’ve been the strangest part of its anatomy; low and stooped, too round to resemble anything human and too featureless inspire anything but an uncanny sense that you weren’t supposed to be here. From a distance, the only thing you could really make out was its eyes. They were gigantic, nearly spherical – orbs of pure crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Before you could stop yourself, your attention drifted downward, to the space between its legs. It took you an embarrassingly long moment to recognize what you were looking at – the shaft absent of all veins or definition beyond a perfect spiral ridge that coiled from the base to the flushed, lilac-shaded head. The tip was tapered, ending in a sharp slant and budding with something white and thick. The entire thing looked almost painfully erect, inflating it to a size that, even when compared to the rest of its massive body, sparked a raw, preservationist kind of terror inside of you. Fear took root in the pit of your stomach, sprouting up and into the hollow of your chest, making it difficult to breathe, to resist the urge to curl back into yourself and never come out.

Second to only your fear, just as pervasive and twice as instinctual, was your arousal.

It would’ve been impossible to read its nonexistent expression, but as it shifted its weight, turning to face you, you could’ve sworn the creature was looking at you with as much interest as you held for it. Its scarlet eyes were wide and unfaltering, its gaze only growing more intense as it took a step in your direction, then another, approaching you in slow, tense increments. Despite its stiffness, it didn’t seem awkward or nervous, let alone afraid of you. If anything, it seemed like it was trying not to scare you, even if you couldn’t say there was much weight behind the gesture when you were sitting among the viscera of its last three victims. Still, you held your ground, not daring to so much as blink until it was standing in front of you.

From a distance, it’d been inhumanly tall. Now that it was close enough to touch, it seemed downright monstrous.

With jerky, unpracticed movements, it reached down, towards you. You waited for a beat, then another, and when it failed to pull away or bury its talons in your chest, you hesitantly placed your hand in its palm, a knot forming in the back of your throat as its claws folded and everything up to your wrist was completely encompassed. With a sharp tug, it pulled you to your feet and held steady you when your legs, still shaking, proved too weak to hold your weight. You let out a fleeting, nervous laugh, and in response, it chittered – the sound high-pitched and tittering. It was cute, in the way seeing a lion play with a ball of yarn would’ve been cute. You were still eminently aware that the creature in front of you could end your life, but still.

“Hey,” you managed, eventually, unable to think of anything else to say. You didn’t even know if it could understand you, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “Did you… did you save me?”

Another round of chittering, a slight glimmer in its otherwise blank stare. You smiled. “Thank you, I— I’m not from around here, and I didn’t know I’d have to look out for people like that.” You bowed your head, attempting to let your eyes fall to the ground, but rather, your eyes found its cock again, pressed against its abdomen and leaking. The adrenaline that’d coursed through your veins a few minutes ago was already starting to fade, making room for something else, something closer to an anxious sort of zeal. Something that made you want to do something less than advisable.

Slowly, doing what little you could to stop your hands from shaking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing against its soft cheek. It nuzzled into your touch, earning a small smile, a trickle of a laugh. “Poor thing,” you mumbled, almost comforted by the fact that it couldn’t respond, couldn’t mock your poor-excuse for a seductively saccharine tone. “Do you need help with that?”

You saw its talon’s twitch, its wings flutter almost imperceptibly against its back. You weren’t aware that you were moving, not until your back was pressed against the rough bark of the nearest oak, until you felt the clawed hand that it’d wrapped around your waist drop to your hip, then your thigh. The tips of its curved talons scraped against your skin as it ran its claws from your waist to your knee, cutting through the delicate fabric of your shorts and panties and discarding the material without a second thought. The open air was cold against your exposed skin, but something quickly replaced it – a gentle, oppressive warmth that seemed to sap the chill from your skin. Your legs were thrown over its shoulders, held in place by its massive hands as it buried its face between your thighs. You barely had time to straighten your back, to brace yourself before—

Oh.

It was more tongue-like than you’d expected.

Not to say that it was a tongue – you weren’t really sure what you should call it. Long, split at the tip, just rough enough to earn a breathy gasp, a new wave of heat rushing from your core to your head, obscuring your few remaining rational thoughts with a shimmering haze. Its tongue (tendril? proboscis?) ran over the length of your exposed slit, leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva dripping down the inside of your thighs before jerking its head upward and finding your clit, the tip of its tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as it recognized the airy sounds now falling steadily from your lips for the unabashed moans they were. It was almost experimental, the way it bent and curled its tongue, clearly working towards a quickly approaching goal but constantly looking for a way to get there that much faster, to make your legs twitch that much harder, to force the coil writhing violently in the pit of your stomach wind up that much tighter.

It was all you could do to arch your back against the oak’s trunk and clench your eyes shut, your hands falling to the softened ridge between its curved antennae. Only half-consciously, your attention dominated by the feeling of its coarse tongue swirling over your clit, you raked your fingers through its cropped fur, doing what you could to show the creature your appreciation, your gratitude. You tried to be gentle, but the curling tips of its tongue slipped into your tight entrance and the world burnt white, your body jerking forward and your nails biting into its scalp. There was a deep, guttural sound from somewhere deep in its chest, and its hands rose to your hips, claws scrapping lightly against your skin as its tongue fucked into you. It was thin, but long and so flexible – twisting and coiling against the sensitive walls of your cunt, never repeating the same blissful pattern of thrusts and thrashes more than once. You found yourself grinding into its mouth, seeking out whatever friction you could with the clumsy movements of your hips. The pressure, the weight, the sensation – it was more than you could handle. You could already feel it, a certain tightness in your chest, a tension in your core that—

Without warning, without satisfaction, it pulled away from you, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from a high that you never quite reached. You let out a long whine, more desperate than disappointed, and as if to apologize, the creature nuzzled against the inside of your thigh, chirping softly. Thankfully, your reprieve was a short one. With its hands still on your hips, your body still held aloft by its inhuman strength, you were dragged away from the oak and into its chest as it stood to its full height. Your chest was slotted against the creature’s, the pointed head of its cock pressed flush to your dripping cunt. Its wings fanned out, its hips rolling against yours, and a sharp, aching moan was drawn from your lips as it thrust into you, finally filling you to the brim.

For a long moment, it was all you could do to bury your face in its chest and try to put together a coherent thought. Only half of its length was inside of you, and yet, you could practically feel it pressing into your core, rubbing against the walls of your cunt, the cork-screw ridge that ran from the tip to the base threatening to split you open. It didn’t, though, and even if it had, you couldn’t be sure you would’ve cared. Before the creature could even begin to move, to fuck into you from below, you were grinding against it, mindlessly and desperately trying to chase that fullness, that peak. It didn’t take long for the creature to answer your fervor. There was a raised notch just above the base of its cock, a notch that caught on your clit as it beat into you with heavy, rough strokes. A talon was dragged down the back of your top, tearing the fabric away and allowing its tongue to lave over your chest. All of its gentleness, all of its restraint was thrown aside as its claws dug into your hips, cutting through skin and tinting your pleasure with an intensity that wouldn’t have been possible without a drop of pain.

A scream, wild and euphoric, was torn from your throat, and you wrapped your legs around its waist, dragging your own nails over its back as you fought to keep some part of yourself grounded. Even that was an effort made in vain. You heard its wings shift, felt the air rush against your skin, and suddenly, you were breaking through the canopy – speared on the creature’s cock mid-air, being fucked against the backdrop of the dark, velveteen sky. The shock, the adrenaline, the thrill was enough to leave you clenching around the creature’s cock, your vision burning white as you came undone. You might’ve been able to come down, to melt back into its thrusts and its affection, if something hadn’t clicked in its chest, if its wings hadn’t started to move a little faster, if something hadn’t happened and the creature hadn’t started to emit a sort of reverberating droll – the sort throbbing vibration that only seemed to make the friction against your clit, the feeling of it stretching you open more perfect. You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed in that hazy, half-conscious state – limp and moaning in the arms of a monster, always either spilling over your high or riding out the aftershocks. It only came to a climax – a real climax – when the creature stiffened against you, its cock twitching violently inside of your cunt. It pulled you as close as it possibly could and, with one last wave of pulsing reverberation, released something thick inside of you – viscous and warm and translucent. Like sap. Like nectar.

Light-headed and blissed-out, you buried your face in its chest as it began to descend, the sound of your giddy laughter muffled by its fur. This time, when it pulled away from you with an apologetic chirp, you didn’t complain, only pressing one more lingering kiss into the curve of its shoulder and letting it draw back. Your legs were too weak to hold your weight, so you braced yourself against the nearest oak as the creature disappeared into the dark of the forest, returning a few moments later with a bundle of bloody fabric in its arms. A shirt – a little torn but mostly in one piece, taken from one of the hunters’ corpses, clearly meant to replace your own ruined clothes. You smiled as you slipped it over your head. It was a size too big, and it was sure to raise a few questions, but it would do until you could find help. Whatever ‘help’ meant, at that point.

When you were finished, the creature took you up again; wrapping an arm around your waist and catching you under your knees, pulling you against its broad chest. This time, as it soared over the forest, you were able to admire view, the star-lit sky and sprawling woodland before it landed where the forest had started to thin and give way to the outskirts of a small town. Slowly, carefully, it lowered you to the ground, keeping you upright when your unsteady balance wavered. You laughed and, for longer than a moment, you held its unblinking gaze, Eventually, your hands fell into its claws, your smile turning bitter-sweet and sentimental. “Will I ever see you again?��

There was a slight chittering, a gentle squeeze to your hand. You felt its tongue against your cheek and let your eyes fall shut. By the time you could bring yourself to open them again, Mothman – because it was Mothman, you could only deny it for so long – was gone, barely a silhouette in the distance. You heard the crack of thunder, and watched it fly away as the sky broke open and rain spilled out.

The next day, you would learn that a bridge about twenty miles outside of the city the creature left you in had collapsed the night before, killing hundreds.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster fucking #yandere mothman #mothman x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 1 month

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How About It, Agent Miller? | Lenny Miller x fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1988. The Cold War is well underway and tensions are slowly rising between the US and the Soviets. CIA Agent Miller isn’t threatened by the new young agent from the Soviet Union but she has a plan to get his attention, and to get even.

Warnings: Misogyny, violence, gun, kidnapping, restraints, dubious consent, noncon, smut, unprotected sex, edging, drugging.

word count: 4661k

Sympathy for the Devil- The Rolling Stones 🎶

Devils Haircut- Beck 🎵

You Know I’m No Good- Amy Winehouse 🎶

Movie: Anna (2019)

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

He thought this job was going to be simple, almost easy. She was working for East Germany, young, and new to her position; surely she wouldn’t be that difficult to eliminate. He’d been working for the CIA for nearly fifteen years at that point. He was one of the top agents and had orchestrated the downfall of many notable German and Soviet spies. To be fair, there had been that minor detail of receiving several severed heads from the KGB back in 1985 but that was all behind him now. They didn’t scare him now, and certainly, that twenty-something agent he’d heard so much about wasn’t about to make him lose sleep. In fact, he was looking forward to meeting her.

The girl in question was twenty-two and one of the deadliest spies to ever work for East Germany (the communist side). Y/N Y/L/N managed to slip past the CIA on multiple occasions, stealing out the backdoor or using false passports to get out of the country undetected. She’d made one mistake, however, and Agent Miller was quick to catch it. He rued the way she’d avoided detection for so long when it felt like it was all due simply to good luck. She didn’t seem especially smart or conniving, just pretty. It pissed him off. The mistake that Y/N had made was small, easy to look over, but Agent Miller was looking, and he found it.

Y/N tricked men around her to get information on the US. Once she’d get them alone, she drugged them, shot them, etc; anything to get them out of her way while she downloaded classified files from their computers. She had managed to steal these files before without leaving traces of her crime but low and behold, the last time she had removed the flash drive without ejecting it from the computer’s system. The computer held onto the flash drive's information and told Agent Miller exactly what the young woman was planning next. She’d been collecting information on nuclear weapons and international trade deals that the US was trying to keep hush hush. And for that reason, Agent Miller knew who she was going after next.

He straightened his striped blue tie and cleared his throat as he and his team crowded into the elevator. The men behind him carried larger guns and thick bulletproof vests, ready for whatever the girl threw at them. They’d followed her into a hotel in New York City, a place that felt too normal for the situation at hand. When the elevator doors opened with a soft whooshing noise, Agent Miller nodded his agents on, directing them to either side of the corridor. Quickly, they raided the hotel room belonging to the man they believed she had gone after that evening, but did not find her there. She was nowhere in the hotel. Agent Miller cursed beneath his breath and gritted his teeth. He knew his impatience was his worst quality and it only hurt him in these situations, but then again, the American government isn’t known for being very patient with communists…

Clenching and relaxing his jaw, Agent Miller went back down in the elevator with his men. They separated into groups in the lobby, each climbing back into the armored car sent by the CIA. Agent Miller waited behind, his cold eyes trained on the curb in front of the hotel. His car was separate from the others and would take him directly back to his office. A sharp wind ruffled his dark brown hair, displacing one strand into his face as his car pulled up to the curb. Agent Miller climbed into the dark backseat, the car door slamming closed beside him and a lock clicking into place. He looked up. The barrel of a pistol was pointed at his forehead. He froze.

“Hello, Agent Miller. Wie geht es Ihnen? I’m so glad we finally got a moment alone. I apologize for the circumstances but you know how the politics are these days… it’s so… toxic. Ja? Now, be a good boy and hand me the glock you have at your hip,” a young woman smiled on the seat beside him. She was wearing all black and blended in against the dark leather seats and tinted windows. Agent Miller frowned, his hands unmoving.

“That doesn’t seem fair, does it? You’re putting me at a disadvantage here.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself like that, Agent Miller. You and I both know what you’re capable of,” she chuckled mockingly but her sunglasses hid her true meaning. “Give me your gun, now.” Her voice was hard and cool like a porcelain plate, one of the perfect edges with a chip. Agent Miller raised his hand slowly and moved his jacket to the side, showing his holster. As soon as she had his gun in her hand she tapped the glass partition between them and the driver, signaling him to drive.

“Where are we going?” Agent Miller sighed calmly, leaning back against the seat. Y/N smiled, pleased at his temperament. It made things easier.

“One of my favorite places in New York City,” she answered with a smirk, a gun still trained at the man beside her though it had been lowered.

“And what kind of place could that be, god forbid?” Agent Miller asked rhetorically and looked over at the window beside him.

“The Plaza Hotel,” she answered slowly and shifted in her seat. Her pleated leather skirt shifted across her black stockings, showing more of her thigh, fleshy and round. Agent Miller noticed it and smirked, the comedy of the situation being too much for him to take seriously. The car stopped at the back of the hotel by the service entrance. Men exited out of the building and held a door open, waiting as Y/N escorted the CIA agent inside. Agent Miller followed her calmly as he searched for someone who could help him.

“No one’s here. It’s off-season,” she sighed lightly and pushed him into an elevator.

“It’s never off-season in New York,” Agent Miller raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Surprise, surprise.”

They took the elevator up to the top floor. Agent Miller’s hands began to sweat as he was led out of the elevator and around the corridor to a suite, separated from the others.

“You must get a good salary,” Agent Miller cracked as the woman jerked the gun towards the door of the suite. He kept his hands visible as he entered the room and looked around. The room was large and was actually made up of multiple rooms. In the center of the living room area, a chair had been left out.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Bitte.” She had a way of talking that sounded like a purr but it was clear to Agent Miller that her words were more threatening than they sounded. Still, it was hard to take her seriously. It was hard to believe that this woman was the deadliest spy in East Germany.

“Danke schön,” Agent Miller muttered, his American accent muddling the German.

"Kannst du Deutsch sprechen, Herr Miller?” Y/N pretended to sound surprised as she closed and bolted the lock. “I’m flattered, really,” she smiled and removed her long black coat. Slowly she placed the coat on a couch’s arm and pulled off the blonde wig on her head, revealing her dark hair beneath which fell into a messy bob around her shoulders, over her dark mauve blouse. Last she removed her sunglasses and folded them neatly on her coat. Then she met his eyes.

“Nein? Well, then it's good I’m so fluent in English. You would never tell by my accent. At least, you didn’t the last time we met.”

“We’ve met before?” Agent Miller asked and shifted in his chair.

“Oh yes.” She smiled and dimples deepened on her cheeks.

An image came back to him, one of a young woman dropping a stack of manuscripts in the lobby of a hotel where they had been investigating the last crime scene. She’d been wearing a long brown wig and tortoiseshell glasses. She even had brown contacts in her eyes to hide her true eye color. He’d stopped to help her collect the manuscripts.

Oh gosh, thank you so much. So sorry about that. My boss is going to kill me. Thank you! She’d blushed as he handed her the papers. He’d met her before. She’d shown herself to him just to play with him. He scowled.

“Now I feel even more at a disadvantage.”

“How? After all, you’re the big-shot CIA agent, due for a promotion any day now… and I’m just a little girl. I don’t need any real smarts, not when I can just use my good looks to get what I want. Right, Agent Miller?” Her voice darkened as she finished, flashing with resentment. “You could fight me right now. It’s just the two of us. I’m surprised you didn’t. You’ve had ample opportunities to but you blindly follow my orders. It’s not that you’re scared to hurt me, you aren’t that sexist.”

“I don’t see the point of fighting when you’ve put so much work into getting me alone. I assume you have something to say.” Agent Miller swallowed, his cool facade slipping slightly as the woman approached him slowly.

“Aw how chivalrous of you! Oh, but what if I told you that I was only interested in getting you alone so that I could finally get even with you.” Y/N twirled the gun around her pointer finger and shifted it to his chest. He stiffened.

“Get even?”

“Settle the score,” she offered with a shrug.

“I don’t think I follow,” Agent Miller frowned warily.

“Then let me explain,” Y/N purred and with quick movements, she removed a pair of handcuffs from the back of her skirt and closed them tightly around both of his wrists, tying his hands around the back of the heavy chair. His eyes widened slightly when he realized what she had done.

“The fuck…” he started but she cut him off quickly.

“You didn’t think I could outsmart you or get the upper hand… you thought you could so easily catch me. And what a good job you’ve done!” She crossed her arms across her chest and set the gun down, smiling. Agent Miller averted his gaze, staring at the upper corner of the room. He clenched his jaw and struggled against the handcuffs for a brief moment.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Agent Miller?”

“Figured what out?” He snapped impatiently.

“I've been planning this for months. Do you really think I accidentally removed my flashdrive wrong, coincidentally leaving you all of the information that i’ve gathered since starting my mission? You’ve really underestimated me,” she clucked her tongue and kicked off her high heels, standing barefoot in her pantyhose on the dark pink shag carpet.

“I knew you’d find the mistake, I wanted you to. You did everything you were supposed to do, good boy,” she carded her fingers through his dark hair. The soft warm lighting in the room brought out the freckles across his pale face. Just as he started to turn his eyes to hers, she yanked his hair back so that he was looking up at her. “But how did this special agent who graduated from MIT of all places, end up in this position?”

“Did you do all of this just to show me how smart you are?” Agent Miller growled as she continued to pull at his roots.

“Something like that,” she smiled again, “I get off when men think they’re smarter than I am. I like proving them wrong… and then killing them.”

“Is that your plan for tonight?” He tried to keep a level voice as the smell of her perfume wafted down to his nose. She shook her head slightly and chuckled.

“You’ve been trained to resist torture, so there won’t be much that I can get out of you that way. And anyway, there isn’t much that I don’t already know.” She released her grip on his hair and stepped back. Y/N moved to the bar cart, stocked with crystal jars of whiskey and bourbon.

“So what are you going to do to me?” Agent Miller raised an eyebrow as he watched her pour a small glass of whiskey. She turned slowly and approached him again, swirling the whiskey in her glass. She raised the glass to his lips and poured it gently into his mouth. He parted his lips for her, his eyes trained on her face.

“Whatever I want,” she whispered and pulled the glass from his lips. Agent Miller raised his eyebrow, swallowing.

“Won’t your government disapprove?” He scoffed and shifted in the seat, calming himself down. His body was starting to get hot and his collar got tighter.

“Shhh,” she shushed him, a finger pressed against her own lips. Y/N approached him again and trailed one manicured finger from his arm to his hand. He shivered beneath her touch and his heart began to race. He felt his pulse in his stomach as she carded her fingers through his hair again, softer this time. She placed one knee on the chair between his thighs, pressing against his crotch. She tipped his head back with the edge of her nail beneath his jaw and leaned in close, exhaling beside his jaw. Seeing an opportunity, Agent Miller tried to kick her, jutting his knee up because it wasn’t restrained. She stopped him quickly, forcing him back into the chair, not missing a beat. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly choked on it. Her hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed but not harshly. His skin was warm beneath her hand and she smiled, her white teeth flashing.

She pressed her knee sharply into his thigh, holding his leg down, and slid it closer to the top of his crotch. She chuckled softly when she felt the outline of his cock inside his pants with the side of her thigh. Agent Miller’s body tensed below her, his hands folding into fists as he exhaled sharply.

“Aw does this hurt?” She cooed as she dug her knee further into the flesh of his thigh. His jaw tightened as she teased him. Moving closer, she rested both knees between his thighs, forcing them against the arms and pinning them in place. Suddenly she was so close and her thighs were pressing against his stomach…

How was it that he was getting an erection from this shit-show? How could she get this reaction out of him so fucking quickly? He tried to even out his breath as she shifted in the seat, her hands trailing up his chest to the knot of his tie.

“What did you drug me with?” Agent Miller muttered. Strands of her hair brushed against his cheeks.

“You don’t have to resist it, Agent Miller.” She ran her hands down his sides beneath his dark blue suit jacket. His body was full and firm, and warm. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered against his forehead.

“What did you put in my drink…” he repeated, his voice wavering in strength as her hand moved down his stomach to the front of his pants. His erection was pronounced and visible, pushing against the fly of his trousers. She must have given him something, something to get this response. He wasn’t even that turned on. He sighed, frustrated and mad. He turned his head to the side, avoiding her soft lips.

“You think I have to drug you to get this kind of response? Silly boy,” she slid off of his lap and sat on the edge of the couch in front of him. She crossed her legs at first and allowed her eyes to trail up his body like a man would to a woman. Agent Miller stared back, his blue eyes hard. She giggled and reached up her skirt, hooking her hands under her pantyhose and pulled it down her thighs. She rolled the pantyhose slowly down her calves and slipped it off her feet. Despite his best efforts, Agent Miller watched her closely, studying the way she pushed the pantyhose to the side with her foot.

“I prefer genuine responses, it helps with my ego,” she broke the silence and watched with a sly smile as Agent Miller swallowed. With a sigh she stood and leaned over the CIA agent, her hands gripped around the arm rests. “Are you embarrassed? The high and mighty CIA agent succumbing so quickly to someone like me?” She teased him sharply, a glint of malice behind her bright eyes. “Tell me, Agent Miller. You’re thinking about me… you want me to touch you more. You want to see what I could do to you.”

Agent Miller cocked his head slightly and sighed, pretending to be disinterested. Y/N grabbed his face, her fingers digging into either side of his jaw. When she kissed him, he exhaled, almost relieved. He kissed her back, forgetting himself and liking the way she tasted, the way her lips felt in his mouth. She pulled his face closer to hers, still hovering above him. She kissed him feverishly and he followed blindly, distracted by the pleasure found in each movement her lips made against his. Then as quickly as it had started, she pulled away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Some of her lipstick was smudged across his mouth but he couldn’t tell. He was breathing heavily, his lips pulled apart so that he could catch his breath. She took a few steps back and grabbed a file from a nearby table. She flipped it open and turned the pages until she landed on the right one. She held the folder open in one hand and with the other she began to unbutton her blouse from the top down.

Agent Miller felt his cock throb as he watched her shrug off the silky blouse and drape it over the arm of the couch. When she turned he could see her black t-shirt bra fitted perfectly against her breasts. Her collarbones rose and fell as she breathed and Agent Miller nearly groaned. She read aloud from the file as she moved back to the chair.

“My records tell me that the last number of confirmed nuclear weapons in the American arsenal was 27,000. It’s been half a decade since that information was released to the Soviet Union. What is that number now?” She straddled his lap slowly, smoothing out her skirt over their legs. Agent Miller moved his eyes from her breasts to her face, trying to keep his face straight as he felt the woman’s hand unbuckle his belt.

“I can’t tell you that,” he managed as she played with the zipper of his fly, her fingers dancing over the hard bulge.

“Has the number grown?” She offered and slid her hand below his waistband. Her hand grazed the patch of his pubic hair before she reached his cock. He shivered and looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “More?” She asked softly as she wrapped her fingers around his erection, it was hot and wet in her hand. He was so sensitive already that he groaned softly when she touched him. She squeezed him softly and freed the hard length from his pants. She rubbed her hand up and down. Agent Miller panted softly as she masturbated him. His eyes snapped open and he watched her, their eyes locked.

“Has the number changed?” She asked again softly as the agent clenched his jaw.

“I can’t tell you that,” He fought the words out as her hand sped up.

“Are there less? Has the US been involved in a trade agreement for its nuclear weapons?” She pushed, her hand moving faster.

“Fuck…” Agent Miller panted as her grip tightened around him. His cheeks deepened with color and his chest shook as his climax built. Just as he felt like he was about to cum, Y/N pulled her hand away and clucked her tongue.

“You’re going to make this very hard on yourself,” she observed and smiled as she watched him pant. He was completely erect beneath her skirt, resting against her bare thigh. They stared at each other as he caught his breath. She snapped the folder closed and tossed it to the side, sighing impatiently.

“Who has the US traded with in the past year?” She asked, her hands holding his thighs down.

“That is public information. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“I want you to tell me about the trade deals you haven’t made public,” she loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons. “Which countries have illegal trade agreements with the US?” She added before kissing his neck, sucking on the soft flesh until she started to make hickeys. With her freehand she held his cock still as she lowered herself onto his head. She moved her hips slowly up and down and pulled away to look at his face. His adam's apple quivered in his throat as she moved on top of him.

“I-I can’t-fuck,” he gasped softly as she started to shift her hips over his lap, taking him deeper, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Come on, Agent Miller,” she whispered against his ear, “be a good boy for me,” she smirked. “Does it feel good? Is this harder than torture?” She teased him as her hips sped up, rocking back and forth. Agent Miller moaned softly as she held his face to face her. His mouth was agape in pleasure as she began to bounce slightly, falling hard on his cock. He grunted as she went faster, moaning theatrically against his lips which she refused to kiss.

“Do you want to cum, Agent Miller?” She whispered against his lips, her tongue touching his bottom lip with a flourish.

“Fuck…” he panted again.

“Can you cum for me?” She purred and Agent Miller nodded weakly, his eyes now closed. She smiled and pretended to pant, coaxing another deep moan from the man’s throat. “Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She asked, raising herself up and holding him inside her. He weakly tried to thrust but she held him down.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his brows furrowed in frustration.

She snapped her hips down, taking him in again and hugging his cock. He gasped as his stomach tightened. He was going to cum.

“Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She repeated sternly, not moving on his cock as the wave of climax started to dissipate again.

“I can’t fucking tell you that-fuck,” he growled when she moved her hips very slowly.

“But you can tell me, Agent Miller, and if you do, I’ll let you cum,” she stroked his cheek and kissed his jaw feverishly. “I want you to cum. Fuck, I want you to cum inside me too.” She whispered against his neck. When he resisted saying anything she pulled herself off and backed away towards the bed in the room beside them. Agent Miller watched her, his chest rising and falling quickly. Still watching him, she slid her leather skirt off, showing that she had no underwear on underneath. He felt like he might explode just by the sight of her.

“Jesus…” he groaned and let his head fall back against the back of the chair. He couldn’t help himself but look back as she undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. Standing completely naked, she laid back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows.

“If you won’t cum, I’ll just have to finish myself off,” she sighed and trailed her fingers up her thigh to her cunt, wet from sex. “It just never feels as good.” She rubbed her fingers over her clit over and over again until she felt an orgasm grow. She curled her toes and bit her lip, grinding against her own hand. Agent Miller knew that he could look away but the scene was just too much to ignore. He watched as she arched her back and twisted her hips, reacting to the sensitivity of her clit. Her eyes danced below her eyelids as she thought up fantasies to fuel her climax. Rubbing harder, she started to moan softly and quivered. Agent Miller pulled at the handcuffs, struggling to remain calm as he watched her touch herself. As her orgasm finally arrived, she collapsed back onto the mattress and caught her breath.

“Enough,” Agent Miller sneered from the chair, still erect and horny. “At least get me out of these so I can fuck you the right way.”

Y/N smiled and hopped off of the bed, her tits bouncing slightly as she did.

“You want to fuck me, Agent Miller?” She leaned close to his face again. He stared back at her, his jaw set.

“Let’s get it over with,” he answered nonchalantly and she tilted his jaw up but didn’t kiss him. She undid the handcuffs around his wrists and he sprang to his feet, grabbing at her body. He kissed her feverishly, lapping at her mouth with his tongue hungrily. She pushed off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt as he slipped off his shoes and pants. They didn’t have time to remove his shirt before he entered her. He took hold of her hips to pull her closer and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close to his chest. She clawed her hands down his dress shirt, her knees high on either side of his waist. She moaned loudly and he studied the way she opened her mouth to do it, mesmerized by the way she reacted to him inside of her.

“Good boy,” she praised him when he sped up, hitting her G-spot. She reached her hand down between their bodies and rubbed at her clit, coaxing a stronger orgasm.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Agent Miller ordered, short of breath, “let me do it.” He massaged her clit himself, his large hands covering the front of her cunt. Her mouth fell open into a loud gasp as he synchronized his thrusts to the way he rubbed her clit.

“Fuck,” he exhaled tightly as he felt her flex around him.

“Keep going,” she wrapped her fingers around his neck and pulled him closer to her face, their mouths exchanging exhales, “fuck me right.”

He kissed her deeply as he moaned, the muscles in his back tightening beneath her nails. She was so tight and wet, he nearly came just thinking about it as he moved. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled as he chased their peaking climax. He was grunting now as she began to finish around him, shaking without much control. He moved his hands back to her hips and rocked himself deep inside of her as he brought on his orgasm. He came inside of her with loud grunts, thrusting until he’d finished completely. Only when he was done did he pull out and collapse beside her on the elegant duvet. He panted loudly, exhausted. They remained in silence until Y/N rolled over, putting her lips close to his ear.

“You know, I didn’t have to ask you all those questions. I already know the answers.” Her voice was serious and cold, Agent Miller eyed her.

“Then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to see you tied down,” she answered calmly. He raised his eyebrow and scoffed just before the sting of a cold, sterilized needle pinched his neck. Then he quickly went to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself alone in the hotel room. Everything had been returned to normal and the place scrubbed for fingerprints. And she was gone. She’d gotten away again.

#lenny miller #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #smut #Anna #agent miller #long reads #1980s #fem!reader

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milswrites · 2 months

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A thousand roses

~ Cassian X Fem!Reader

Summary: Every day you curse the books that gave you unrealistically high expectations of men. Sure you were going to be single forever until you meet Cassian. Adamant he wants to take you on a date, Cassian does his best to impress.

Warning: ⚠️ Reading this may give you unrealistically high expectations of men ⚠️

Actual warnings: Lots of sex talk and inferences to sex but no actual smut!

“And then he made her orgasm three times! Three! The last guy I was with didn’t even manage to squeeze one out of me!”

Upon finishing your latest read, you just couldn’t help but give a very detailed review of exactly what you thought about it to your co-worker. A packed cafe in Velaris during the middle of the day was probably not the most appropriate location to shout about your sex life, but you just had to share how the smut filled pages had left you more satisfied than any man had ever done.

Jadis snorted into the steaming hot tea she was drinking, liquid spilling everywhere, “I’m telling you girl, you just need to get out there, kiss a few frogs to find your prince. I don’t know how many more of your smut reviews I can take. It’s not natural to be this turned on at work.”

You hummed in response, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the pages of your book, “But that’s the problem. I’m too picky to go for a frog!” You blame the hundreds of books in your library at home for that, millions of perfect fictional men literally at your fingertips. “Real men just don’t do it for me anymore.”

This statement was confirmed as you miserably scanned your eyes over the customers in the cafe, none of the males present seeming to stick out to you meet any of your self-imposed standards. You only had yourself and your books to blame for your lack of a relationship.

“I’m just never going to find anyone! Forever reading in my house wishing I was at the mercy of one of my book boyfriends” you sighed, not wanting to seem downhearted but you just couldn’t help it. Velaris just so happened to be a haven for beautiful relationships, everywhere you turned you’d see interlocked hands, affectionate hugs and the occasional heated exchange of kisses. You could only wish that one day you’d be in the same boat as them, overwhelmingly in love with someone who you could call your own. There’s a reason the night court was so affectionately called the court of dreams.

Jadis reeled in your wandering mind, “Well darling, I hope you enjoy forever fantasising about sex rather than having it. I for one can’t wait to take Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome for a spin.”

She was referring to the moderately attractive male who had asked her out the other day during the preparation of his morning coffee. In your opinion, it wasn’t the most romantic scene. Though Jadis hadn’t been on a date in a long while and so in her own words she was going to implode if she didn’t get a good fuck in soon. So who were you to judge.

The bell above the cafe door twinkled, ending the conversation about your book and pathetic love life. Your eyes travelled to the cafe entrance and stopped when they landed on the biggest male you had ever seen. The Illyrian walked through the door, having to duck his head and draw his wings in to fit through the much smaller frame. His presence in the cafe was enough for you to lift your head from where it was sat in your palm, interest peaked.

There was no doubt that this Illyrian was one of the most attractive males you have ever seen. His long brown hair was pulled back messily into a bun. You didn’t normally like the rough, slightly barbarian-esque type, typically preferring your males to be more clean-cut. It was clear this man didn’t look like most males. No, he looked as if he had just stepped out of one of your deliciously sinful smut books.

He began to approach the counter, his body taking up so much space that he bumped into tables, displacing the drinks of customers who were grasping at the mugs and glasses to try and prevent them from spilling at the earthquake caused by this ginormous man. He apologised to each of them as he moved but kept his eyes locked ahead. Locked on you.

Your friend, noticing the effect this man had on you, spun around and immediately started acting as if she was busy with another job, leaving you to serve him in your hypnotised state.

“Just a coffee please love” he said, pulling you from your stupor as he finally came to a stop at the counter. Mother, even his voice was hot. It was resonant and also bore the twinge of gruffness which left goosebumps on your arms in its wake. There was no doubt everything about this man oozed pure sex appeal. You were too mesmerised to move, brain not registering that he had asked you to do your job. Instead, like a besotted fool, you stayed stood behind your counter, feet rooted to the ground.

“You alright there gorgeous?” The unbelievably good looking male asked, roguishly handsome smile growing on his face, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. This spurred you to move, the stacked cups surrounding you rattling at your sudden movement. “Coffee! Right. Yes, of course!” Managing to squeak a few words out, you turned around to busy yourself with making the coffee, hatred in your eyes as you glared at Jadis who left you stranded making coffee for this very handsome man who’s looks alone were doing very strange things to you and making you think very indecent things. Jadis, undeterred by your glare, wiggled her eyebrows at you, grin stretched across her face, beaming from ear to ear.

With shaky hands, you finish up with making his coffee and without turning around, afraid you’d accidentally start professing your undying love to him if you did, you ask, “any sugar?”

His honey coated voice replies, “No thanks, I’ve already got my eye on something sweeter.” You ignored the sight of your friend’s head snapping speedily to look at you in glee. Heat burning across your cheeks, you turn back to face him, avoiding the man’s eyes.

Hands still shaking, you place the coffee in front of him and wait for him to pay. The sooner he leaves the sooner you can gossip with your Jadis about him and moan about your inability to act normal in front of incredibly attractive men. He pulls out the money from his pocket and places it on the counter, pushing it towards you, but before you can take it from him he drags it back in his direction, finger holding it in place. “How about you and I go out together sometime sweetheart? You’re obviously desperate to.”

At this, the lovesick fog that had been swimming in front of your eyes since this man had entered the cafe dissipated. Rose-tinted glasses off you noticed that the smile that adorned his face was more of a cocky smirk. His confidence and tone of voice told you that he asks this question a lot and most likely always gets the answer he desires. It was clear this man wasn’t the personification of one of your book males come to life. He was just another playboy.

Not wanting to just be another name on the list for this man, you slid the money out from under his hand, sickly sarcastic smile on your face, and said, “I think I’ll pass thanks sweetheart.”

The males smirk promptly fell from his face in shock, clearly not expecting, nor used to rejection. He sputtered out a few buts and whats, flirty demeanour forgotten, a slightly pathetic butt-hurt one taking its place. This was definitely a man not used to losing.

“Have a nice day!” You enthusiastically, and very satirically, finished this interaction before walking away to busy yourself with clearing some now empty tables in the cafe. Wings hung low in defeat, the man at the counter left the cafe, bell ringing as he exited. This surprised you, having expected him to put up a little more of a fight, but nonetheless you were glad that it was over with. Cursing yourself for falling for just another pretty face, standards forgotten.

“What?!” Your friend screamed running over to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you vigorously as if you had lost all senses. Unafraid of scaring off the customers who still sat in the cafe, some clearly entertained by the whole event which had transpired. “Do you know who that was? Oh Y/N he was totally into you! Why did you say no?”

“Because he was looking at me as if I was a piece of meat! And no, I have no idea who he was and unlike you I don’t go jumping on every stranger who asks me out at work” You brushed Jadis off of you and started taking the dirty glasses back behind the counter to be washed, your friend hot on your heels not wanting to finish this conversation just yet.

“That was Cassian!” She continued, expression as if it should have been obvious to you who the Illyrian male was. “Good for him” you replied, no idea why it should matter to you who he was, clearly if Jadis and the few interested by standers in the cafe knew who he was he had quite the reputation in Velaris. Surely that mustn’t be a good thing.

“Cassian? Lord of bloodshed? General and Commander of the Night Court’s army?” She continued, seriously not convinced you could have absolutely no idea about him.

You snorted, “I’m sorry, no one actually has that many titles unless they’re from a book… or if they just have a very large ego”.

Jadis groaned, hands fisting her hair in exasperation, “Y/N he’s like totally hot and totally loaded and super important! And he was so checking you out!” You could tell all this was upsetting your friend who was most definitely hoping you were about to get some much needed action, but all you could do was shrug, “I’m sorry babe but I’m a romantic, it’s going to take more than pet names and a stupidly attractive face to gain my interest.”

Giving up, Jadis dropped her hands from her head in acceptance, disappointment clear on her face, “I know, but don’t come running back to me to complain how unsatisfied you are when that Illyrian god was basically throwing himself at you.”

After the topic of the male was dropped, your day continued as normal, whilst Jadis had promised not to bring it up again but you couldn’t help but notice the angry glances your friend kept throwing your way during the last few hours of your shift, distressed that you had let a man go who had seemed perfectly acceptable in her opinion.

At the end of your shift, in an attempt to get her to understand where you were coming from, you slid your book towards her, “Here. Read it and then maybe you’ll understand what I mean.” She picked it up, looking at the cover eyes bulging at the title, “Bound in chains? Really?”

“Trust me, sit down with a large glass of wine and read it. You’re going to love it!”

With that the two of you locked up the cafe, book secure in Jadis’s bag. You said your goodbyes at the door and headed your seperate ways, all thoughts of the handsome man from earlier in the day long gone. Upon your arrival at home, you wandered to your favourite room in the house, your library, wanting to select a new read to cosy up with for the evening.

Approaching your shelf that you reserved exclusively for books you had bought but had yet to read, you pulled one out by its spine, eyes glancing over the cover. The cover which bore the image of a large, well-muscled man, whose long brown hair flowed freely over his shoulders. Eyes blowing wide and blush returning to your cheeks you shoved the book back onto the shelf. Thoughts drifting back to the Illyrian with the same looks who had been flirting with you earlier. Maybe you’d be better off reading a safe fantasy book tonight. Or better yet a book that had no man in at all, although that would be a rare find in your library.

~~~~~

“I am a changed women”

Returning to work the next day, you were greeted by Jadis smiling, bouncing up and down on her feet, and holding your book in her hands.

“I take it you liked it then?”

“Liked it?”Jadis squealed, “it was like reading pure porn. I loved it”

You laughed along side her, of course Jadis would read an entire book and focus on the porn rather than the actual plot of it.

“Truly I did,” she continued, rushing about and gathering her things, “and I would love to stay behind now my shift has finished to talk about it but I have to go home and get ready for Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome, maybe tonight I can try out some of those moves I read about!” She winked at you, handing over your book before rushing out of the cafe with an excitable “Wish me luck!”

Work had been very quiet today, allowing you time to sit and read your newest book. After finishing a simple fantasy last night you were left unsatisfied by the lack of enjoyment it provided when it came to the physical romance. Needing more, you had selected one of the filthiest books you could find.

Engrossed in the pages, plot thickening by the minute, you were absorbed into the book. Only to be broken from its spell when the familiar chime rang of the bell rang out, signalling a customer had arrived. Rushing to finish the page before they reached the counter, your eyes flew over the words before you finally reached the end of the page. Enabling you to look up from behind your book only to see Cassian standing before you, lips formed into a cautious smile. As if unsure of how you’d react to his presence after yesterday.

“Coffee?” You ask, eyebrows raised, placing your book down before standing up from the stool you were sat on behind the counter.

“Please if you don’t mind, but don’t let me stop you from finishing ‘Fated Frenzy’… cauldron do women really read books like this?” Cassian exclaimed, picking up your book and flicking through the pages, holding it out of reach so you couldn’t snatch it back.

Clenching your fists together as you glared at him you replied, “well if only men knew how to actually please a woman then we wouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right man then,” Cassian mumbled, focus still on the book that was dwarfed in his large hands. He must have reached a particularly risqué part as his eyes widened slightly, tongue peaking out from between his lips. Now as he spoke, reading from your book, he wore a large grin, “I mean not every man has a cock that looks as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves.”

You scowled, now managing to take hold of the book grasped in one of his large hands and snatched it back. “I’ve certainly never met a man like that” you replied as you slammed your book back onto the counter and moved off to make his coffee so he could leave you to read in peace.

“Don’t want to check sweetheart?” He teased from behind your back, clearly trying to get you as flustered as he had managed to yesterday. Pleased at your banter. Not wanting to give him what he wants, and definitely not wanting to turn around to see his stupidly handsome smirking face looking back at you, you replied from over your shoulder while you were busy finishing his drink, “it doesn’t take a fool to know the spymaster has a larger wingspan. Now his I’d like to see.”

You heard the catch of his breath, causing him to choke on air at what you had said, clearly not expecting your confident retort, and not saying anything at the discovery you do indeed know who he is all thanks to Jadis. Cheeks stretching into a grin of your own at his embarrassment, you turn and place his drink in front of him. Unlike yesterday, Cassian didn’t even attempt to reach for his money before asking, “Please, let me take you out somewhere nice”.

Your smile dropped, head shaking slowly, “What classes as nice in your books? Other than a quick fuck behind the back of the building.” This comment made Cassian’s eyebrows knit together, not happy with the impression you had of him. “What will it take for you to understand I’m serious? That I want to take you on a date to get to know you.” He sounded earnest you’d give him that.

“I don’t know ok! I just know that I’m not going to say yes to a man I don’t even know who asked me out while I was just doing my job.”

He stretched out his hand, trying to meet yours which was resting on the counter but you pulled away before any contact could be made. “I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me. Likes, dislikes, good bits, bad bits, everything.”

“I- I don’t know Cassian, I just don’t think this is going to work.”

“What will it take?” He begged, eyes desperate.

“For you to be like one of them” you said, nodding your head towards your book.

“An overly sexual alpha male?” He said, confused as to what you were actually referring to. This made a small laugh escape from your lips, “No that’s just a bonus. I’m sorry Cassian, I just dream about being swept of my feet by a man that acts like one of them. Romantic, sweet, not asking out every other woman they see.”

“I can be romantic” Cassian said defensively, “I can be incredibly romantic”

Wanting to get this interaction over with you decided just to agree with him. “I’m sure you can Cassian, no doubt there’s a very lucky woman waiting for you somewhere”.

You weren’t sure it was possible for his brows to furrow any more than they already were, “I’ll prove it to you. Prove that I’m all in on this. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m not going to let you go that easily.” Determined look plastered on his face Cassian grabbed his coffee and walked towards the door pulling the it open, bell chiming, and before he stepped outside he called back to you, “I’ll see you soon gorgeous, you better be ready for me” and with that Cassian left, the cafe silent apart from the bell still ringing, the sound helping you realise that Cassian was real and that interaction did actually happen.

It was only five minutes later, when your wild thoughts were tamed by another customer entering did you realise that Cassian never even paid for his drink.

~~~~~

“Y/N!” Cassian shouted bustling through the tables to reach you as he entered your work once more. Shock flooded your system, he had learnt your name from when you last spoke to him two days ago. After causing a ruckus, and spilling many drinks onto poor unsuspecting customers laps, he reached the counter where you were stood waiting for him.

“What are you-“ you started angrily, worried he would scare away valued customers. Though you were interrupted by Cassian whose arm, which was hiding behind his back, shot out revealing the largest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen.

He held them out expectantly, waiting for you to take them but your suprise had you rooted to the spot. Familiar with your freezing by now, Cassian impatiently shook the bouquet in your face, movement bringing your thoughts back to the present. Still not taking them, not quite believing something so beautiful could be gifted to you, you spoke, “They’re lovely Cassian but you just cut right in front of Matilda who was here first!” Cassian’s features faltered as he dropped the bouquet in disappointment.

Matilda , the lovely little old fae who frequented your cafe, leaned around Cassian’s broad figure so she could see you, “it’s alright Y/N! Take the damn flowers and talk to the man!”

Cassian thanked the older women and stuck out the flowers once more. “For you,” he said encouragingly, willing you to accept the gift, “I told you I’d prove myself to you. I’m here for a date.” By this point you had been stood there for a ridiculous time causing your Jadis to stretch her arm past you and grab the flowers smirking as she says, “Thank you Cassian, they’re beautiful, Y/N loves them. Lillies are her favourite, how did you know?” Winking as she walked off with the bouquet it was clear Cassian has been getting some insider information from the mouth of your best friend.

The Illyrian nodded his head at your friend gratefully and you finally rediscovered the ability to speak, “Thank you, but if you’re here for a date I’m sorry I can’t help you, this is my work Cas, I have to do my job.”

“Pfft bit presumptuous I’m here for a date with you”

At that your face fell slightly before you quickly returned you expression to normal, not wanting Cassian to know his words had an effect on you. Surely he wouldn’t bring you flowers just to have a date with another woman in your workplace. Was this some twisted way to try and make you jealous?

Flirty expression on his face Cassian adjusted where he was stood and flung his arm around Matilda who began to blush, “Have to find out everything I can about you from my beautiful date Matilda here! One coffee for me and one of whatever my darling date would like” he said, making Matilda giggle before asking for her usual. Relief flooding you body, your lips twitched and you began to make their order, “my, my, Matilda. I have to say I expected better in your taste of men”.

“Woah woah no need to tell her,” Cassian joked, “don’t want this hot commodity to leave me for something better” he finished, winking at Morgana who looked as happy as if it was Solstice morning. Grabbing the finished drinks you had placed before him, he headed to a table, coming back once the drinks were down to walk Matilda to her chair, but not before placing his money on the counter, saying, “Moneys there for the other day by the way, I’ll speak to you later.”

Cassian must have sat talking with Matilda for hours, watched closely by you from the corner of your eye as you worked, customer after customer coming and going. Finally when the rush had died down and your shift was coming to an end, the two who had been huddled together gossiping over more than a few coffees, hot chocolates and cakes stood to take their leave. Or more accurately, Matilda was taking her leave. Cassian had said his goodbyes bending down to give Matilda a big hug and then scooped their empty plates and cups into his arms before walking towards you.

There wasn’t enough time for him to place the items down on the counter before you watched as Matilda lay a firm smack to his backside before giggling, “I’ll see you later hot stuff.” Lucky not to break any cups, Cassian jumped, flying forwards and dropping them all onto the counter before you, eyes terrified.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the cups the right way up before checking on the male, “you alright there hot stuff?”

“Oh don’t even start. That woman’s got one strong slap” he whined, hand rubbing his ass to relieve some of the pain.

“Don’t act like that’s not how all your dates end” you goaded, cheeks twinging at the effort to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Trust me gorgeous, if any of my actual dates ended like that I wouldn’t be complaining” he winked at you, all the while pulling a napkin out of its holder to help you clean his mess from the counter.

As you watched him clean, you couldn’t help but admire the way his brows slightly furrow when he’s concentration, noting the way his focused mouth tilts to once side, tongue slightly poking from between his lips. He was handsome there was no denying it.

“Will you walk me home?” You blurted, snapping your mouth shut and internally cursing yourself for asking such a ridiculous thing, digging yourself into an even deeper hole you continued, “it’s only that the flowers you got me are so big… and I have all my other things…and…uh..”

“Y/N, I would love to walk you home”

“Great! I’ll just um, go and grab my stuff”

You turned, heading towards the cloakroom, only to be met by Jadis, bag and bouquet in hand. She shoved them eagerly into your arms squealing, “go get him girl!” Hands pressed against your back, she forced you to move forwards until you were in front of Cassian, “don’t have too much fun you two” she said now guiding you both from the cafe, tripping and stumbling over each others feet as Jadis’s excitement led to some very firm shoving.

~~~~~

Once outside in one piece, no thanks to Jadis, Cassian plucked the flowers from your arms allowing you to swing the strap of your book-filled bag over your shoulders. Timidness now overcame you, what were you supposed to say to him now? Had asking him to walk you home seemed too desperate?

“So what are you reading now? Not another book about a poor sexually frustrated female?” He asked, breaking your panicked thoughts as he walked side by side with you.

“No sex this time,” you giggled lightly, “this one’s about a man who sacrificed his kingdom for his true love”

“You really like that stuff huh?” Cassian spoke softly to you, he sounded like he was truly interested in finding out exactly how your brain worked, “that true love and romantic gestures shit?”

“It’s not shit” you defended, “sometimes it helps me not feel so alone. Reading about all these grand gestures and things people do for the ones they love.”

Cassian cleared his throat awkardly, his hand which was not holding the flowers moving up to scratch at his head, “and you’re into that? Romantic gestures?”

“It’s hard not to be. Pretty sure it’s every girls dream to be swept of their feet and fall as deeply as characters do in books.” Cassian was nodding along to what you were saying but his eyes showed he was lost in thought. It was your turn to draw him from his head, “you never done anything romantic for your ladies Cas?”

His name on your lips seemed to work, the clouds of thought in his eyes fading as he turned his gaze from the road ahead to you, “I guess I’ve normally always thought that just me is enough”. He didn’t say this to be cocky or narcissistic, you could tell. You didn’t mean to make him feel shame over the situation, you had been genuinely curious. Perhaps a little jealous at the thought of Cassian putting in just as much work into chasing other women as he has been with you.

“That’s ok. I think romance is more reserved for the pages of books these days than in actual reality”

Not a fan of where this conversation had turned to Cassian did his best to lift the mood, “I’m not surprised you think that if all your books were like that one I caught you reading. Heck where are you meant to find a overprotective god of war with who hates everyone but the lowly daughter of an inventor and they go on to have insane - and totally not physically possible by the way- sex!”

You scrunched your face, “Cassian there’s no way you were able to get all that from one page…Oh cauldron! You read the book! You read Fatal Frenzy!”

As if only now realising what he said to you, a flustered Cassian tried to provide you with lame excuses as to how he knew that information until it was clear you weren’t going to let it go. After about five minutes of listening to your constant prodding, poking and teasing as you walked, Cassian caved, “Fine! Fine, I read it ok. I was curious as to how he was going to put his god level cock to use!”

By this point you were full on cackling, having to stop your walking to put a hand on your stomach at the thought of this mountain of a man sitting down to read a devilishly smutty book. “I have to say”, you gasped out in-between giggles, “I’m surprised you can even read”.

Cassian acted out the most overdramatic reaction to your words, his hands flew to his heart, bouquet still in his grasp, and released loud, exaggerated noises of pain and cries of just how horrible you were. People had began to stop in the street, wondering why the Lord of Bloodshed was acting as though he had just been shot. Rolling your eyes and wanting the attention off the two of you, you elbowed his side prompting him to stop, “careful you’ll crush my flowers if you die any wilder.”

Charming grin of his face, Cassian looked down at you, “we wouldn’t want that would we? Not when a super hot guy went through the effort of finding out your favourite flowers for you.”

“You’re crazy” you said in dismissal, continuing to walk in the direction of your home.

“Your kind of crazy?” A hopeful tone in Cassian’s voice.

“I haven’t quite decided yet” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that Cassian was already proving himself to you more than any man has. No one had ever bought you flowers before and no male had ever attempted to read a book you were reading for your attention.

“Well you just let me know when you do” Even the way Cassian looked at you made you melt.

“You’ll be the first” gentle smile on your face. Nerves building in you once more as you thought about what going further with the man next you you would entail.

Content to let you walk lost in your thoughts, Cassian didn’t try to force any conversation. A natural peace fell between the two of you, the silence not an awkward one. It wasn’t until you neared the outside of your house that you broke the silence, “Well, this is me”.

Nodding Cassian passed you the bouquet. For the first time you looked at the flowers and really admired them, admired the fact this man had gone out his way to go to your friend and make sure he got your favourite ones.

“Thank you Cassian,” you said, laying a kiss onto his stubbled cheek, “they’re beautiful.”

Cassian’s usual confidence gone, it was his turn to blush. Shyly, he tried his luck again, “so about that date?”

You walked over to your door, pulling out your key, turning back to Cassian, twinkle in your eyes, you said, “ask me again tomorrow”.

“That wasn’t a no!” He said, confidence rushing back into him. As you entered your house and peaked through the window behind your curtains you couldn’t help but watch Cassian, beam on his face, as he jumped on the spot. A small celebration that you hadn’t fully rejected him once more. A matching grin on your face as you observed him, you stayed watching until he took off from the ground, large angelic wings spread, wondering what in Prythian was this man doing to you and what sinful things you’d like to do with those wings.

~~~~~

You were sorely disappointed over the course of the next week. Since that evening Cassian had walked you home to the cafe he had not returned. Jadis tried to keep your thoughts positive, saying he was probably away on important Night Court business, being the General of its army and all. After being the one to speak to Cassian about you she was adamant that he was undoubtedly in love with you and he wouldn’t leave you hanging.

It was hard though, when the eighth day of his absence rolled round, not to think that he had found someone more interesting to pursue. Someone who didn’t make him work as hard for their affections. Your mood was so glum that you didn’t even have the heart to read. Why read about love when you’re not sure you believe in it anymore?

You had spent days wondering what you had done wrong. Had you been too forward? Or did he find your obsession with males that weren’t real a little too bizarre? You did your best not to dwell on it but it was so hard not to, the flowers you had placed in a vase on the side table in your library, right next to your reading chair, still flourished beautifully, a constant reminder of the man who crashed into your life only to leave it in shambles.

So here you were, sat on the stool in the cafe, your thoughts being the only thing to keep you busy due to your sudden lack of interest in reading. It had been another quiet day, but it wasn’t long now until Jadis would arrive, you had opened the cafe for her after she asked for a favour so she could spend the night at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome’s, who’s name you had learnt was Arthur. Happy that even if your love life was crumbling, at least Jadis’s was blooming. However, you were thankful you weren’t actually supposed to be working today, not sure if you could survive another shift listening to her unintentionally boast about how perfect Arthur was and how good he is at sex.

So you sat there and waited for her arrival, desperate to go home and crawl into your bed. Without your typical reading to do, you found yourself spending most of your free time sleeping, wasting away the hours you didn’t know what to do with yourself in.

It was finally an hour after the time she had promised to be in for, when Jadis flew into the cafe, bell ringing aggressively at her sudden entrance. Running to where you were at the counter, coat and bags in hand, she was profusely apologising over and over for her tardiness.

“You must have had a good night with Mr Handsome” you teased, trying not to let your slight annoyance at you still being here show. Confusion flashed across her face before she quickly corrected it in realisation, “Oh yeah! Totally great sex, every woman’s dream. Hugeeee dick.”

Opening your mouth, ready to ask her about her odd behaviour, she pulled you from your stool before you could talk. Dragging you out from behind the work area, saying “Come on Y/N it’s your day off, don’t want to be here any longer than you have to be!”

Now you defiantly knew something was off, Jadis typically keeping you an hour in-between shifts to catch you up on everything that has happened since the day before. “Jadis, what’s going on?” You asked cautiously, had something happened between her and Arthur? No. Jadis would definitely tell you if that was the case, or maybe she just didn’t want to make you any more depressed than you already were. Still in that strange tone of voice, Jadis kept pushing you to leave, “Nothings wrong! I’m fine. Now leave, you still have the whole day to do something, go read one of your smut books!”

This confirmed she was definitely hiding something, knowing that you haven’t picked up a book for the past week after listening to your incessant complaining about the matter. If you weren’t so desperate to leave and go rot in bed for the rest of the day you would have stayed and forced whatever it is she was hiding out of her. You decided that was tomorrow’s job, when you had a nice six hour shift together where she couldn’t avoid your pestering.

Shrugging on your coat and promising to yourself you’d find out what she was dodging tomorrow, you left the cafe. Turning your head around to look back through the windows only to be met with Jadis and her crazed eyes watching, as if making sure you were walking in the direction of your house. Unsettled, you followed the streets leading home, praying to the Mother that your friend was alright and you weren’t about to have to kill a man for upsetting her.

Finally, you arrived at your door, turning the key in the lock you were startled to discover the door was already unlocked. You were exhausted when you left that morning but you could have sworn you weren’t so tired that you’d risk your property and your safety like that.

Fear now coursing through your veins, you quietly pushed your door open, scared you would alert anyone in your house that you were there and something bad would ensue. The fae lights in your hallway were all lit, softly casting a warm glow over your home. You stepped inside, and instead of your foot meeting the usual plush of your carpet it was met with a slight crunch.

Casting your eyes to the ground you gasped. There were hundreds of rose petals scattered across your floor, leading towards each of your rooms. Following the trail, you made it through to the entrance of your living room, if your jaw dropped any lower you were sure it’d hit the floor.

The entire room looked as if it had been covered in a red blanket, a sea of roses covering the entirety of your room to the point where you couldn’t actually see anything that wasn’t a deep shade of red.

By this point your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure you could feel your eyes watering, the hundreds of roses placed around you getting blurrier and blurrier. But there was no sign of the man you were sure had placed them.

Turning around you sped into each of your rooms, wanting nothing more than to find Cassian and throw your arms around him. Each room the same as the last, filled to the brim with the most beautiful roses. Lillies may once have been your favourite flowers but you think the kind-hearted man, who had wormed his way into your heart, may have just changed your mind. Roses were perfect.

Still no Illyrian insight you flung open the door to your library. Room decorated just as over the top as the others. And there in the centre of it all, sat waiting for you to return home, is Cassian. He stood quickly, treading on some of the flowers placed by his feet.

“How?” You asked, voice cracking as you tried to hold the tears at bay.

“It wasn’t easy, Jadis let me in.” Cassian said lightheartedly from where he stood across the room, too far from you for your liking, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I wanted to do this the day after we last spoke but I guess I didn’t actually think about the logistics of getting thousands of roses delivered.”

You stayed silent, heart overwhelmingly filled with love for the man before you, the man who had spent the past week getting a thousand roses just to ask you on a date. Taking your silence for something bad, Cassian began to ramble, “My brother Azriel - the spymaster - he helped too…I wanted to make sure it’d be done in time. It’s a mess I get it, I’m sorry, I’ll clear it all out for you I just-“

You cut him off, tears now flowing freely down your red hot cheeks, hands trembling, “it’s perfect Cassian. Nobody…nobody has ever done anything like this for me” At the sign of your tears Cassian made to make his way towards you but was stopped by the fact he just didn’t know where to place his foot without ruining all his hard work.

“Clearly I didn’t think this through very well” he mumbled, arms out to keep him balanced and preventing him from falling. Not wanting to spend a minute more away from him after having to suffer through a whole week, you ran, roses be damned right into his arms. Throwing yourself at his muscled body as he caught you, pulling you close to his chest in midair.

“You’re crazy!” you exclaimed, head tucked into his neck as you rested it on his shoulder.

Cassian placed you down gently, arms still wrapped tightly around your waist but he wanted to look into your eyes for this, “your kind of crazy?” His eyes held that same hopeful desperation that they had when he last asked you out.

“Hell yeah” and with that you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and connected his lips to yours.

The kiss was like nothing you had ever read before in one of your books. It was everything and more. A fire ignited within you, burning hotter and hotter and you just kept needing more. Cassian the fuel to your fire and you were sure that as long as you had him with you it was a flame that would never die out.

It was a messy clash of teeth and tongues, both of you uncaring of how sloppily and uncoordinated were kissing. All you knew was you needed each other like the pages of a book needed ink. You kissed and you kissed, hands wandering until you weren’t sure which parts belonged to Cassian and which to yourself.

The need to breathe forgotten, you continued. Hands running over his back which was rippled in muscles before reaching around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he picked you up once more.

It was only when the need for air was so overwhelming that you had no other option to pull away that you did. Heads pressed together, lips still slightly touching, a trail of saliva linking the two of you together. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms as if you were nothing but a feather, catching his breath he finally began to speak, “So about that date then?”

You giggled, pulling him even closer to you by his neck and laying a soft peck on his lips before drawing away to give your answer, Cassian’s mouth chasing after yours, “If this is how you ask me, I can’t wait to see what you have planned for our first date. Hopefully you don’t ignore me for a month whilst you prepare.”

Barking out a laugh Cassian placed you on the floor of roses, holding your hands to ensure you didn’t stumble. He looked around the room, proud smile adorning his face, he first took in the roses which he had took so long in prepping, screaming at Azriel when he hadn’t placed them down as he had pictured in his head. His gaze then swept your shelves, hundreds of books upon them.

“Ever read about this in one of your books?”

“Nope this is definitely a first”

His eyes landed on the book resting on your table, right next to the vase full of lilies he had originally given you, title in gold lettering along the front of the cover. Fated Frenzy. The book he had read because of you. You laughed as you spotted what he was staring at, his eyes travelling back to you, running up your body with hunger before finally settling on your eyes.

“You into roleplay gorgeous?”

With those words he smashed his lips back onto yours. The promise of an exciting night ahead.

Here, standing in your library entwined with the Illyrian you decided all those characters you have read about were lacking in one thing you never even knew you needed.

They weren’t Cassian.

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

Notes: You have no idea how much I wanted to finish this fic with “And so Cassian did” lol

Happy Valentines <3

#acotar #fanfic #cassian fic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian oneshot #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine

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rustedhearts · 3 months

Text

my funny valentine (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: the hand-written evidence of an affair between high school sweethearts, displaced and reunited after war.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the library

♡ the record store

tags: “darling” used as reader insert name; infidelity; mention of war/violence; darling + steve are 35 at the time these letters are written. the time skip signifies lost letters (as they might, in actuality, get lost over the years)

"you make me smile with my heart...stay little valentine, please stay. each day is valentine's day."

— my funny valentine, ella fitzgerald

May 22nd, 1961

My Darling,

Please excuse this intrusion….I got your address from a neighbor. It was so lovely to see you today. I just couldn’t stand the thought of going one more moment without speaking more to you.

I couldn’t believe you thought me lost to you. Though, I cannot blame you for this train of thought. I was gone so long. It was silly to believe you would have waited all your life. Two years was long enough….I don’t blame you for moving on. But did you need to move to London? My Darling, it’s so far from home. I can excuse the new husband given my absence and its circumstance, but the distance will not do.

Nevertheless, I’m rambling. What I truly wanted to say, what I have longed to say since I boarded that train, and what I have wanted to say all day since seeing you on that wet little park bench in your fur coat….I still love you with all my heart. Is there any chance you still love me, too?

Yours,

Steve Harrington

May 24th, 1961

Sweet Steve,

Of course I still love you. You can imagine how confusing a feeling this is to me. Given the circumstance of a loving, successful husband found after such a long mourning period in which I now ponder the merit of….how could I still love you? It goes against all good graces which that of Almighty God intends for me.

But it doesn’t change the way my heart soars for you. The way it did when I saw you approach from across the pond in that tattered coat you’re still clinging to. Your hair is longer. I find it handsome.

I feel a sting of wrongdoing course through me as I etch these words down. Though I love you, Steve, we must not continue to write. Please tell me once what you endured, and then never more. I must have the answers I went so long without. I am allowing myself this selfishness.

However, when the tale is done, I cannot allow myself the selfishness of going on. My life has altered greatly since our time together, and my duties and responsibilities now lie elsewhere. I hope you can understand.

Sincerely,

Darling

May 30th, 1961

Darling girl,

I will begin first by disregarding the words that pierced me so. I will find it difficult to post this letter and think of it as the last of mine that you will ever read. Perhaps, by the end of it, you will have changed your mind.

When I left for Germany, it was as though we were thrown to the wolves. Peril and anguish and torment were all we knew. Myself, the men boys I fought with. We were all so young. Eighteen, twenty, the youngest seventeen. I cannot explain to you the horror of watching a young man’s arm blown off.

But you do not want to hear this. You want to hear of matters obtaining to you, of course. Answers you asked for and answers you shall retain. You’ve waited long enough.

When I returned to America two months after D-Day, I was bodily unscathed but no longer the man you knew. I found myself bound to fits of emotional and physical violence. Days of hysteria and madness that alarmed even my hostess. I was in no fit state to see you. I was, as well, thousands of miles away in California. So, when we were told to board for our way home, I did not go.

California was far enough that you could not find me and the man I had become.

My Darling, I wish I had sweeter excuses than these. I wish I could scrawl something of manly note, but…I owe you honesty. This, my sweet dear, is the honest truth. I was a hollow shell of the man you once knew. And I was afraid to return home to you.

Time in California fell like a whirlpool. A year had passed, and then two. By the time I had some handle on my fits, had worked through my madness and set home for you, you were gone. Your mother said ‘off to London,‘ and with a new beau to accompany you. A husband.

Something I was supposed to be.

Where I failed, I suppose he thrived. I hope you are happy, sweet girl.

Please, feel obliged to reply.

Yours still,

Steve

June 12th, 1961

Steve,

You always knew just how to sweeten the bitterness of goodbye. So much sweetness that I grow too sick to move through with it. Alas, that is why I’ve picked up my pen to write again. Curse you, Steve Harrington. You have such hold over me.

Now, I think it only right that I answer the questions you have not asked, but that I know you are curious of. Reggie is my husband, and we met two summers after the end of the war. I went so long pale and sick with grief, thinking I lost you to Heaven. I had come to terms with this, buried any idea that you might come home.

Reggie was a businessman, in town for dealings. He hails from London, which is the swift explanation for my immigration here. Our love was quick and easy, and when he asked me to marry him on our fifth date, I had no reason not to say yes. You were, in the mind of a young girl engaged to a soldier that did not come home, gone. There was no vow or promise being broken.

I would, however, be breaking all promises of honesty under God if I were to say I have not thought of you in these past years.

I feel an indescribable ache for your suffering, and all the suffering of young men in a similar state to yours. I take your words as oath, as I promised to do so many years ago...which is why I can assure that my heart weeps for you so. Not just for your suffering, but for your company. I think it always might.

Might we allow ourselves one more act of selfishness? An act in the park, Sunday afternoon?

Please return soon.

Darling

June 14th, 1961 Darling,

I would be happy to oblige you in the park on Sunday. Will 2:00 do? Though, you were always an admirer of early morning strolls. Perhaps 10? You always did love a bird call.

Every post from you makes my heart soar, Darling. Did you know? The prospect of keeping your company for even a few hours has me yearning for a busy week, if only to keep the impatience at bay. I meant it truly when I wished your happiness. Fondly, Steve

June 15th, 1961

Steve,

Yes, 10:00 will do. I will be there, wearing my fur coat.

Eagerly awaiting,

Darling

June 20th, 1961 My Darling, Oh I cannot scrub my mind free of this torment. Our act of selfishness I knew to be tempting, but now I am delirious. If I thought my need for you was strong before, it is insufferably so now. You were so beautiful in your coat, in your plum dress. The color compliments your skin so well. I have not seen your eyes that closely in years. Only in photographs, that I horde and selfishly admire in the depths of dark nights, have I seen those eyes of late. And now here they were, staring up at me. With such blatant love as they did once before. Yes, my Darling, I saw all of it there. Are we to go on lying to ourselves, saying we're better off? Our time has passed, it has been so long, yes. Yes, I know it. But I know also that I cannot go another day without making up for the time lost between. Darling girl, please be selfish with me. Please live our days selfishly for as long as we might have. Yours, Steve

June 22nd, 1961

Steve,

I pride myself for honesty, so I will satisfy you with my brief agreement. My heart thumped so wildly in the park on Sunday that I thought it might break free from my body. Would you catch it in your hands if it had? Would you crush it? Oh, Steve, it has always belonged to your hands. The love you detected was not an illusion. It never died, not even across the sea.

Yet, what of Reggie? I love him dearly, as well, though maybe never quite like I did you. He is, nevertheless, my husband. We have grown to live such a wonderful life. And yes, we cannot have children, but we are finding ways to fill this void. The void will only grow, I fear, if I continue to be selfish with you. I will find new gaps and black holes in our life together, and I cannot be unhappy in a marriage that is sufficiently content.

Please do not ask this of me. My heart cannot bear to say no.

Yours,

Darling

June 24th, 1961 Darling, I know you are frightened, but might our love be stronger than this fear? Please do not deny me, I might break entirely apart. Do you not see the predicament we are in? To lose so many years, yet find each other in a completely different part of the world from where we were born. Is it not an act of God stringing us together again? One night, my sweet Darling. If not an eternity as we once intended, one night will suffice. Please do not say no. Yours waiting, Steve

June 27th, 1961

Sweet Steve,

I have been awake for days, ailing over your proposal. Know I do not intend to make any decision without a full realization of every consequence. To deny you would leave me with an ache like no other forever plagued on my heart. To accept, I would part ways with the very peace of mind that my marriage is pure of all faults as it is now, and was before you.

Attach the address of your hotel.

Yours,

Darling

June 29th, 1961 Oh my Darling, I believe I read over your words so frequently and at such a swift pace that my eyes are still sore. Attached is the address of my stay, and know I will be waiting no matter the hour. Come as you please, whenever you wish. I will be at the door. To hold you in my arms again is all I can live for in the hours between. Yours, Steve

July 3rd, 1961

Steve,

The loveliest of nights has passed between us, and yet I feel sick with the wrongness of our sheer audacity. Entangled in your arms, wrapped in those cotton sheets just feeling your breath and your flesh as it always was...I cannot think of a better mercy. For our suffering, for our loss. But will I obtain God's forgiveness when the day is to come? For what I have done to Reggie, I think this always a stain on my conscience.

Yet, some sort of delirium has come over me since that night. I seem incapable of clear thinking. If it is stained, let it be stained.

Please write to the attached P.O box from now on. I cannot risk interception, but I cannot risk a silence from you.

My darling Steve, will you stay?

Yours entirely,

Darling

July 5th, 1961 Darling, You cannot fathom how long I have waited to hear these words. Yes, I will stay. Yes, I will be yours, if you shall be mine. The hours allowed to us are the brightest of my days. I will find permanent residence somewhere in traveling distance so long as it allows me proximity to your love. Please come soon. I miss you terribly. Love, Steve

September 19th, 1961 Darling, You were upset last we parted, and my wish to quell your ailing grows stronger by the hour. I have grown to know your marriage and your Reggie as you have told, and I know now he cannot make you happy. I could make you happy, delightfully happy. The children you have always wanted are in our future, I know this is true. Please, change your mind and say yes, and we can have it. The future you crave, the future you deserve. Adventure, and intrigue, and passion that he cannot fathom. I have stared into the depths of your soul, and have bared all parts of my own. Can you say the same of him? Please, my Darling girl. I only think of you. Yours, Steve

September 22nd, 1961

Steve,

It is with aching eyes and a sore, sinking heart that I have prepared this for you. Know the walk to post it felt like a march to the death. In some way, this is death. Part of me, sealed away by your sweet kisses, and tender touches, and all those long hours whispering secrets in the dark. Part of me will always live in these moments, and that part of me has died.

I cannot leave Reggie, and your request of such leaves nowhere for our selfishness to go. We must not go on like this. Not if we are to live full and fulfilling lives without secret and pain. It is too much for one heart to bear. Were we to go on, it would kill me entirely. I must sacrifice a small part to save the whole. Oh, my love, I hope you understand. I hope you can forgive me.

Yours, now and always,

Darling

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader

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bellewintersroe · 9 months

Text

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader- smut

Part 8?! Holy shit, I’m enjoying writing this series so much.

Warnings: Explicit mentions of sexual intercourse, angst, slight argument? I don’t want to give too much away…

Slightly prompted by @urfriendlywriter with “look at me when I'm making you feel good, baby" with Daniel because 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Daniel and y/n reunite and he’s a nervous wreck. Although being overwhelmed with the anticipation of the Hungarian GP looming, he’s still torn about their secretive situation. He is weak in the knees, however, and can’t help but end up back in her Hotel room for the night. Any confusion is momentarily dispersed, until she brings up a topic of conversation that has Daniel feeling on edge.

“Daniel!” She giddily exclaims, greeting the taller man for a hug. For an onlooker, including her dad, it would just look like an exchange between two friends reuniting, to them however, it meant something completely different. His heart was pounding as he greeted her into his arms, the smile undeniable hard to resist as his stomach turned to mush whilst her body pressed up against his. She smelt so good, he thought, and she looked beautiful, his hands were clammy and she offered him a smile before they broke apart. With her face so close to his, Daniel thought she might kiss him. That was until her embrace was then placed on Checo, embracing him in what seemed to be an equally happy greeting. She knew different, her hug with Daniel was something she’d been dying for all week. It was now Thursday, a day before the practice rounds for the Hungarian GP, and time for her had moved so, incredibly slowly. “C’mon you, have you finished your work?” Christian then asked, stopping her chatter with Checo. “Ah-“ she turned around, embarrassed by the comment. “Yes, dad. I’m not 12.” She blinked with a funny tone causing a couple of the men around to crack up. Daniel saw the saw the way men around here would look at her, eyes quickly glancing down her dress clad body, they’d gaze at her face longingly, giggling like kids whenever she’d walk in a room. He always cringed at it, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness- but then he’d come to the realisation he was just the same as them.

“Ah, you’ll always be my baby.” Christian responded, ruffling her hair slightly as she grumbled out, scurrying away to avoid further embarrassment. Daniel felt his eyes follow her, his head even tilted a little seeing her disappear out of the room quicker than he’d liked. “She’ll chat your ear off.” Christian joked, looking Daniel in the eye. The Australian snapped his attention back, forcing a laugh and shaking his head nervously. He couldn’t give him eye contact, he’d been railing his daughter for the past several weeks now…

——————————————-

God, it had felt like months since Daniel was last inside of her. She looked fucking angelic as he pushed his cock into her, arms pinned above her on the bed as he swung his hips harshly into hers. “Daniel!” She gasped, hands nudging to be released before she grabbed at his bare back, head lolling around in pleasure. With each thrust her tits bounced leaving Daniel mesmerised, squeezing and groping at them. Her lips were slightly parted, sweet moans escaping as her fingers moved down to rub over her pussy. Any of Daniels prior panicked thoughts had been quickly displaced when she began rubbing her ass into him during an extremely busy lift ride up to the room.

Daniel growled, feeling himself stupidly close to cumming despite being inside of her for a mere two minutes. He pulled out, replacing his cock with his fingers as he sunk two of them into her dripping cunt. “Fuck!” She squeaked, attempting to squirm her way up onto her elbows. Daniel’s free hand pushed her back down to the bed. “I love it when you’re like this.” She gasped, eyes slightly wide as he swallowed thickly at her words, scanning over her face that he couldn’t get enough of. If he wasn’t so desperate to have his cock inside her, he’d fuck that little mouth of hers so good.

He was panting slightly, mouth agape as he watched her with a hungry expression, one she simply couldn't resist as she cried out, feeling his fingers twitch inside her. “Yeah?” He responded, almost cockily to her little whines. It’s like she’d coerced him out of his shy exterior, and spending some time apart riled him up like no other. “That good?” He muttered, quickening the pace as she choked out a cry, nodding, her head turning away. “Fuck.” Daniel cursed, feeling how tight she was around his fingers. Her cunt was so deliciously tight, in fact, he knew he’d never been with somebody who wrapped around him so good.

“Look at me, baby.” He then repeated, desiring to see her desperate eyes on him before he fully fucked her with his fingers. “Daniel!” She whined out, head rolling back up but her eyes were still closed. He reached forwards, taking her by the jaw and pushing her cheeks together slightly.

“Look at me when I'm making you feel good, baby.” His voice came out as more of a demand, to this she obeyed his order and her eyes opened again. “Harder.” She pouted. “Good girl.” He exhaled against her lips, kissing her harshly before increasing the pace as he fucked his fingers in and out of her so overwhelmingly fast she found herself screaming, Daniel not letting her cover up one sound that left her lips as she squirted all down his veiny arm. “Good girl!” He repeated, clearly proud as he moved down for another kiss.

“Fuck me, Daniel.” She hushed, snatching his hair as he let out a soft moan at the painful tug. He couldn’t resist as he crawled back between her legs, pushing his cock with ease into her lubricated pussy. He continued with the same pace before, arms at either side on her as she reached up, stroking at the back of his neck and then his cheek. The act made Daniel soften inside, dropping his head with a curse before he’d slowed his pace and found himself lifting her closer to him.

“C’mere… up here, baby.” He whispered, needing her body flush against his as he lifted her into his lap. “You want me to ride you like this?” She cooed, beginning to rock her hips teasingly over the outside of his cock. Daniel searched each of her eyes, feeling all control leave his body as her fingers trailed over the tip of his cock.

“Do you?” She repeated, barely a whisper. “Yeah.” He hushed, moving closer to give her a kiss but she purposefully moved her away. “Please.” He repeated, a little harsher as a smirk grew on her face, sinking down over his cock, listening to the delicious moan she’d pulled from his chest.

His hips also rocked against hers, arms wrapping around her waist as they embraced, making out whenever they could as she sucked on his tongue. “Want you to cum like this, inside me- fuck, you feel so good.” She kissed at his jawline, Daniel keeping his head against her shoulder out of pure comfort. “Inside you?” He repeated as she lifted her hips higher, causing more of a friction for them both whenever she dropped back onto his cock.

“Inside me, Danny.” She let out a moan as he gripped her close. For a few moments they were just enjoying the fucking, moaning back to one another as they shared moments of intense eye contact. Daniel stroked over her cheek, holding her face so he could watch each expression he drew from her whilst he rocked his cock into her.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” He then asked. “Fuck yeah… I do.” She responded, dropping onto his shoulder with a deep groan when his actions caused her stomach to do knots. “You like it when I keep you close, hm?” He nudged her face back up, stroking down the back of her head. “I love it.” She choked.

I love you… thought Daniel. The thought kinda scaring him as he watched her with a desperate expression. He shook it to one side, well, he tried to. She’d started sucking on his finger, the wet sensation of her lips being the only thing that tugged him from his distraction. When she pulled off his finger he pulled her back into his body, a little stunned at the intrusive thought.

“You okay?” She panted, noticing he’d looked a little dazed. “Hm?” He turned to look at her lightly. “Yeah, I’m good.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, his brows furrowing in a slight worry as he pressed his forehead against her temple. He loved her, fuck he loved her.

When she’d finished, Daniel came inside of her with a groan muffled into the crook of her neck, dropping his head there as he came down from his high, shuddering at the aftermath. They remained like that for she didn’t know how long. He had his arms wrapped firmly around her and seemed pretty content cuddling her close. She liked it, the feeling of his fingers drawing gentle patterns on his tanned skin. I love you.

Daniel thought again as he sat up looking directly back into her eyes. She’d kissed him gently, offering him a gentle smile as he took a deep breath, glancing down seeing as he was still inside of her. She attempted to move but he didn’t want to lose the contact, nor did he want the overthinking to start again. “Just-“ he held her gently down, so lightly that she could’ve moved if she wanted. “-Stay like this for a minute.” Daniel shushed her gentle moan as she sunk back down onto him, feeling him pull them onto their sides as she watched him with softened eyes.

Her eyes fluttered close as he traced the outline of her lips before moving closer and kissing them gently. They remained like that for a few more moments before she’d cleaned herself up and they remained cuddling one another close. His arm was slung over her waist, pressed up against the squeeze of her breasts, whilst the other lazily remained under her neck. It was her favourite, position, feeling so close to him.

Y/n wasn’t sure what overcame her, maybe how comfortable she felt with him, or the fact she was half asleep, but she let those words fall off her lips without thinking.

“Do you think we’ll always be a secret?” Daniels eyes shot open.

The same inner conflict he’d been battling with all week returned as he slid out of her hold sitting up slightly. “What’s wrong?” She panicked, turning over to watch him. “Nothing, just…” “Just what?” He looked freaked out, and she felt panic arise on her chest just from the look on his face. Was he not ready to hear that yet? Had she pushed it too far?

“I was just thinking about it for- for a couple days now.” Daniel rubbed his arm, staring at it as a distraction to avoid anything but those beautiful eyes of hers. Now she’s mentioned it, it made the topic much easier to discuss. She remained silent, waiting for him to continue, there was the worst anxiety building in her stomach, she didn’t like it.

“Like is telling people about what’s going on? Or-or just being more open about it.” Daniel didn’t really know where his words were headed, “yeah?” She straightened her back, finally seeing him meet her eye.

“I don’t know it would be right, y/n.” Whatever she expected him to say, it most definitely wasn’t that. Her stomach sunk and she broke all means of eye contact. Daniel felt harsh, he knew it was and couldn’t shake the regret that filled him, but it was true. How could it be okay? “Wouldn’t it?” He watched her, staring at the bedsheets looking as though she was gathering her thoughts. “How would your dad react?” He finally blurred out.

“I- he’d get used to it… are you saying you just wanna keep going on hiding everything?” The stammer in her voice made it difficult for him to look at her now, the last thing he’d wanted to do was cause her any distress, but he’d be a fool to think that wouldn’t happen. Her stomach was in knots, emotions screaming to be let out, but all she could do was sit and stare at the bed they’d just had sex in. Something about it all felt very very slimy.

“No, that’s not possible.” He slowly spoke as she felt her breathing increase. “So we’re just gonna stop then.” She jumped out of bed, retrieving some clothes off the floor, desperate to cover her modesty whilst he sat naked and pathetically in the bed.

“Well I didn’t say that-“ Daniel attempted to respond, but he realised shortly where he’d dug his grave. Had he made a mistake? It just felt so sudden, the whole conversation, he’d thought about it for all those weeks and now she was coming to the conclusion it was over between them.

“Then what do you want?” She snapped, Daniel’s attention quickly back on her. Bad idea, she had glassy eyes and there was a tension in his jaw he’d never seen before. What do you want? I want you, Daniel thought. But it wasn’t possible. “God, you’re making this so difficult, Daniel.” She turned her back, staring out of the window in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to spill at any second. He hated the way she spoke to him, of course he was well aware he deserved it, but the sound of distress in her voice was something so unfamiliarly uncomfortable to him.

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep going on with pretending I don’t have feelings for you.” Her back straightened at his words, she had a bad feeling this wouldn’t last, it was overly complicated, there was an age gap and they’d never once discussed what was going on between them.

“To keep that all hidden, it just feels wrong. I love you, y/n.” Daniel released the tension off his chest, her own heart bulging out of his chest. Whatever reaction he expected, it was not for her to burst into tears.

“You can’t tell me that after saying you want to end it!”

“I don’t want to end it though, not if things were easier.” He hurried to pull his clothes on, sensing she wouldn’t want him around for much longer. He felt like a major douche, and he was.

“But they aren’t.” She swiped at her eyes, turning away from him. “Don’t-dont come back and sleep with me just to tell me all this.” She let out a painful sigh as Daniel felt her words punch directly into his gut. “I’m sorry, fuck, I didn’t think it all through.” He pinched the top of his nose, feeling the urge to cry himself. Daniel wasn’t a crier, but there was something about knowing he’d hurt her that really induced tears.

“Just go, Daniel, it could’ve been easier.” She wiped at her eyes, attempting to slow the tears. “No, m’ sorry.” He touched her back, attempting to console her but she stepped away. “No, I want you to leave.” She was humiliated, and how couldn’t she have been?! “Please, Daniel.” She whispered, the two of them standing face to face.

“Y/n, I love you-“ he sighed out, but her face palm indicated she was done with the conversation.

“That doesn’t make anything easier, Daniel, please, please leave me alone.” She begged as he fought a mental battle with himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He began backing off. One part of him wanted to stay and just take back everything he’d said, another side knew he couldn't continue hounding her like this.

He’d broken her heart, and only when he left his room could she fully break down. Daniel heard it from outside the room, it was a sound he never ever wanted to hear, it made him sick to his stomach, especially knowing he was the cause of that.

Everything had happened so quick, she felt more upset over this than she ever did going through a break up of 2 whole years. Daniel didn’t know if he’d made the right or wrong decision, but it currently felt like the worst decision he’d ever made. Was there even any coming back from this?

————————————————————————

@mccall-muffin @benbarneslut @dinodumbass @allabouthappiness @ricciardhoe-3

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader smut

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neonovember · 17 days

Text

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93 @cynic-spirit

Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood.

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier.

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place.

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long.

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name.

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit?

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness.

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist?

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means.

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not?

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut.

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom.

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before.

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home?

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa?

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days.

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door.

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with.

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him”

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features.

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face.

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call”

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure”

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex.

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

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doxypsychlean · 1 year

Note

Aegon II Targaryen x reader who is manipulative and uses the motherly love he never got to get her own way. They both love each other but in a toxic yandere kinda way 😂

Wrapped around your finger

Yandere!Aegon ii Targaryen x Yandere!Reader

Headcanons|

Warnings: none? pls tell me if I've missed sth

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Aegon and Halaena aren't together in this one. It's also pretty sweet, despite their ?yandere? tendencies.

Oh, he really thinks he's that good.

Then you come around.

You, a lady of noble descent and a member of one of the greater houses in Westeros, are also one of his greatest rivals when it comes to having the worst reputation in all the realms.

At first, it's just harmless fun. Nothing too serious.

But then you become a witness to the way his family treats him.

You work your way into his heart and head. I mean, who in their right mind would miss out on the opportunity of being Queen of Westeros one day, amirite?

He bites the bait pretty quickly.

Aegon is obsessed with the way you shower him with affection and love.

He'd be spending most of his time in your arms, begging for you to tell him how much you love, how unfair his mother is to him.

Alicent hates you at first.

The hatred turns to admiration with time, seeing as you gain complete control over her son and mold him to your liking.

But there's more to what she's feeling towards you- fear. With the way things are going, all it would take is for you to snap your fingers and Aegon would kill them all. For you.

You never do, thank the Gods, and for that you have the Queen's utmost respect and gratitude.

She never lays a hand on him again. She doesn't have to, but she's also too scared to do it.

He still drinks, maybe not as much as he did before, but he no longer chases after the servant girls. As if you'd even allow it to happen.

The first time you realize what you feel for him might be actual love, is when you order for some noble lady to be "displaced" from the Red Keep. You didn't like the way she stared at him. Cue, girly losing her eyes for that one.

He was yours and the only way to get him away would be to pull him out of your cold fingers. And you had no intention of dying any time soon.

Aegon rarely goes out of the Red Keep anymore and when he does, you're always with him. The Prince has glued himself to you, whether you like it or not.

On the rare occasions of you two not being present in the castle, golden scales could be seen shimmering high above King's Landing. Sunfyre loves you, the golden beast could feel the strong bond between his rider and you.

Expect lots of expensive gifts- lavish dresses, the rarest perfumes from Essos, jewelry, books, horses, ginormous bouquets of your favorite flowers, commissioned portraits of you two, gold, sweets, etc.

You want it? You'll have it. Simple as that.

He'd never thought of himself as a jealous man, but the second he sees his brother talking to you and you laughing... All Seven Hells break loose.

Aegon turns into a sniveling, whining mess, hands wrapping around you as if his life depends on it.

All the while shooting daggers at Aemond behind your back, daring him to come closer so he could claw his remaining eye out.

Few soft words from you and he's melting.

You love him. He loves you. Everything is more than fine. He completely forgets about Aemond, who's slowly backing away from you two.

You get married not long after. Neither one of your families is brave enough to say a word against the union, seeing as ...

You absolutely never tried to hide it from the public.

You're all over eachother for the most of it.

Both men and women are dropping like flies around you, if they just as much as stared at either of you for a second too long.

Both yours and his family are equally scared and would rather keep away, than try and separate you.

Word spreads around quickly. You're with child.

Aegon's over the moon. You're his. He's yours. Completely.

The prove pops out not long after. Then another. And another.

He would 100% elbow the midwife in the face if she tries to keep him away from you while you're giving birth.

"My Prince, you cannot..."

"Out of my way, you old hag, my wife is in there!"

He was there while you were making them, he has every right to be there while you squeeze them out.

Definitely cries his ass off when he holds your firstborn.

His tunic is discarded quickly as he holds the small bundle close to his bare chest.

Then he wraps one hand around you, almost crushing your neck with how strong he's squeezing you.

Same thing goes down every single time- he storms in, kid comes out, he's bawling his eyes out at the sight.

You pick the dragon eggs for each and every one of them together.

Aegon's just as obsessed with your children, as he is with you.

Gods forbid someone makes one of his little bundles of joy cry...Heads will be flying in all directions, no matter who they belong to.

Not even the Stranger would be able to pull you apart.

Even in death, you'd find a way to be back together.

#hotd fanfic #hotd #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd headcanon #headcanon #yandere #but not really #idk yall will be the judges #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #accepting requests #dance of dragons #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second

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samasmith23 · 8 months

Text

Iceman Almost Came Out as Gay Back in the 1990s

So prior to Brian Michael Bendis revealing Iceman (aka, Bobby Drake) was gay in the pages of his All-New X-Men run from 2015, apparently writer Scott Lobdell had planned to have Bobby come out of the closet two decades earlier but was unable to go through with his plans. Lobdell did however, lay the ground work for Bobby coming out during his time on the X-books in the mid-to-late 1990s.

Specifically, during an encounter with Emma Frost back when she was still a villain, the former White Queen of the Hellfire Club briefly took control of Bobby’s mind and actually used his mutant powers in more creative ways than he ever had done before. Emma accurately pointed out that Bobby was intentionally holding back the true potential of his powers, and was using humor as a shield to mask his own insecurities due to his conservative upbringing by mutantphobic parents.

Writer Sina Grace actually followed up on this old plot point from the 90s during his Iceman solo-series which immediately followed Bobby being outed by the time-displaced Jean Grey in All-New X-Men. In addition to depicting Bobby becoming more comfortable with his sexuality and gradually out to his fellow teammates, ex-girlfriends like Kitty Pryde, and especially his bigoted parents...

...Grace finally allowed Bobby to fully embrace his potential as an Omega-Level mutant. Not only did Iceman singlehandedly defeat the unstoppable Juggernaut in combat after after overcoming his greatest fear by coming out to his parents, but he began using his powers in more creative ways than before such as constructing ice-shuriken and multiple ice-clones and kaju.

Furthermore, Grace also revealed in his run that yes, during that time Emma Frost had mind-controlled Bobby back in the 90s, she actually did learn that Bobby was gay. But unlike the time-displaced Jean Grey, Emma never outed Bobby’s closeted sexuality to him or anyone else, and instead respected his privacy due to her own tragic experiences with her older brother Christian Frost being forced into "gay conversion therapy" (aka, torture...) by their abusive father.

Essentially, all of the people who try to argue that Iceman coming out makes zero sense or that it somehow "ignores/erases several decades of past continuity" (I'm looking at you homophobic Comicsgaters!) completely miss the fact that both Bendis & Grace were simply building upon the foundation that was already put in place by Lobdell back in the 90s! That’s NOT “ignoring or erasing several decades of continuity,” but the exact opposite!

And if you still need further proof that Bobby was always gay, just a reminder that during his very first appearance in X-Men (1963) #1 by Stan Lee & Jack Kirby, Iceman was the only person who was not acting like a horny jack-rabbit at the mere sight of the then-new student Jean Grey.

In other words... Iceman was always gay even as far back as his inaugural issue! Suck it Comicsgaters!

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kckt88 · 27 days

Text

The Lost Dragon IX - Displaced.

Summary:

The Queen reclaims her throne and Aemond accepts his fate.

Warning(s): Angst, Beheading(s), Upset, Allusion to Sexy Times, Heartbreak.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 7322

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“NO” screamed Vaelys as she sprinted forwards and threw herself between Aemond and Daemon, her body a barrier between them.

“Stand aside daughter. NOW” ordered Daemon.

“If you want to kill him, then you’ll have to kill me too” said Vaelys.

“Vaelys. No” exclaimed Aemond.

“Please. Your Grace. Spare him” begged Vaelys as she turned to face her mother who’s gaze was indecipherable.

“You will do as commanded. Your marriage to this treasonous cunt will be annulled” snapped Daemon.

“No, please” cried Vaelys.

With a subtle gesture, Daemon motioned to one of his men standing at the edge of the throne room, his expression conveying a silent command.

The man nodded imperceptibly before swiftly moving into action. With practiced efficiency, he approached Vaelys from behind, his movements calculated to catch her off guard. Before she could react, a pair of strong arms seized her, dragging her away from Aemond's side.

Vaelys' scream of protest echoed through the throne room, her struggles fierce and desperate as she fought against the iron grip of the guardsman. "No! Let me go!" she cried, her voice filled with anguish and defiance.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the guardsman continued to hold her firmly, heedless of her struggles. With a determined expression, he began to pull her away from Aemond and Daemon, his grip unyielding despite her efforts to break free.

Once Vaelys was subdued, Daemon stepped forward with purpose. Dark Sister, gleamed ominously in the dim light as he unsheathed it, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. With deliberate precision, he placed the edge of the blade against Aemond's exposed neck.

As Aemond knelt before Rhaenyra and Daemon, his gaze couldn't help but wander to the sidelines where his wife Vaelys stood struggling against the grip of the guardsman and his daughter Sovia nestled in the arms of Helaena.

Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he beheld the sight of his family.

Meeting Vaelys' gaze, he whispered softly, his voice barely audible above the solemn air, “Avy jorrāelan” (I love you).

“Aemond-“ sobbed Vaelys.

“Jurnegon tolī issa byka grēges” muttered Aemond (Look after my little bug).

Closing his eye, Aemond braced himself, his heart heavy with resignation yet buoyed by the love he held for his wife and child. In that moment of quiet acceptance, he awaited the inevitable strike that would bring an end to his life, knowing that even in death, his love for Vaelys and Sovia would endure.

Daemon raised Dark Sister high above his head, the polished steel glinting ominously in the dim light of the throne room. His grip tightened around the hilt, muscles tensing as he prepared to deliver the fatal blow.

His expression betrayed no hint of hesitation as he swung the sword downward with lethal intent, the arc of his strike swift and unyielding.

Vaelys lurched backwards, her head colliding with the guard's face with a sickening thud.

A sharp cry escaped the guard's lips as his grip faltered, momentarily loosening. In that split second, Vaelys seized her chance. With a surge of adrenaline, she propelled herself forward, throwing her body between Aemond and her father, just as Dark Sister descended.

The air seemed to freeze as the razor-sharp edge of the sword hovered mere inches from Vaelys' throat. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, every fibre of her being praying for her father to stop.

Daemon's eyes widened in shock as he halted the blade's descent, his gaze flickering between his daughter and Aemond. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged breaths echoing off the stone walls.

Slowly, Daemon withdrew Dark Sister, the tension in the room dissipating like a storm passing. He stepped back, his expression unreadable as he regarded his daughter.

Vaelys' chest heaved as she stood her ground, her eyes never leaving her father's. Though she knew the danger had not passed entirely, she also knew that she would do whatever it took to protect Aemond, even if it meant defying her own blood.

"Swear your loyalty to me. Declare me your Queen and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne" ordered Rhaenyra stepping forward with purpose in her gaze.

Aemond met her gaze, his expression resolute. "I, Aemond of House Targaryen, do hereby declare that my sister Rhaenyra Targaryen is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I pledge my loyalty from this day, until the end of my days."

As the words left Aemond's lips, a sense of finality settled over the room. Rhaenyra nodded, acknowledging his pledge, before issuing her next command.

"Bind him," she ordered, her voice firm yet tinged with sorrow. "Take him to the black cells."

The guards moved forward, encircling Aemond and restraining him with chains. Despite the gravity of the situation, Aemond remained composed, accepting his fate with a stoic resolve.

As he was led away, the weight of his decision hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the throne room.

“Mother-“ whispered Vaelys.

“Sweet girl” replied Rhaenyra as she swept her daughter into a hug.

“P-Please understand, he’s not the monster you think he is”.

“He took you from us-“ muttered Rhaenyra.

“-What’s going to happen to him?” asked Vaelys.

“Aemond will be dealt with sooner rather than late-but I must insist that we have a long conversation when your ready”.

Vaelys nodded and stepped away from her mother, resuming her spot next to Helaena who placed Sovia in her arms.

Rhaenyra's gaze swept over the throne room, her heart heavy with the weight of her newfound responsibilities. With determined steps, she made her way towards the Iron Throne, the symbol of power that had once been her father's. The intricate metalwork seemed to gleam in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across the room.

As she approached the imposing seat, memories flooded her mind—memories of her father's reign, of the battles fought and the alliances forged. But now, it was her turn to sit upon the throne, to rule the Seven Kingdoms and uphold the legacy of House Targaryen.

With a steadying breath, Rhaenyra turned to face the majestic seat, feeling the weight of centuries of history pressing down upon her. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the cool metal, before finally lowering herself onto the throne.

The moment she settled into the seat; a sense of solemnity washed over her. The throne seemed to mould itself around her, as if recognizing her as its rightful ruler. She glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of those gathered there—courtiers, advisers, and loyal subjects alike.

"It is done," she declared, her voice ringing out with authority. "From this day forth, I, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, claim my place as the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will uphold the honour and integrity of this realm, and I will lead us through whatever trials may come."

With that proclamation, Rhaenyra settled back into the throne, her posture regal and resolute. The weight of the crown rested upon her brow, but she bore it with grace and determination, ready to face the challenges and responsibilities that lay ahead.

Now seated upon the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra exuded an air of authority that seemed to fill the entire throne room. Her eyes, a reflection of the Targaryen fire that coursed through her veins, were fixed upon the grand doors through which Otto Hightower would soon be brought.

With a subtle gesture, she signalled for her guards to fetch him. Moments later, the doors creaked open, and Otto Hightower was escorted into the throne room, his expression a mix of defiance and apprehension.

"Your Grace," Cregan began, addressing Queen Rhaenyra with a tone of respectful urgency, "May I request that the younger children be moved to another chamber? These are matters far too weighty for their tender hearts and impressionable minds to bear witness to."

His words carried a wisdom born of experience and a genuine concern for the well-being of the younger generation. Cregan knew all too well the toll that the brutality of politics and power could take on the innocent, and he was determined to shield them from such harsh realities as much as possible.

"Young eyes should not be subjected to such things," he continued, his voice firm but gentle. "It is our duty to protect their innocence, to ensure that they are spared the burden of these dark deeds."

Rhaenyra, though focused on the matters at hand, nodded in understanding, acknowledging the wisdom of Cregan's request. With a gesture, she signalled for the younger children to be escorted from the throne room, away from the judgments that awaited.

Once the doors had been closed Rhaenyra returned her attention to Otto.

Rhaenyra regarded him coolly from her seat, her gaze piercing through the air as if assessing his every move. "Lord Hightower," she began, her voice carrying a weight that demanded attention. "You have stood against me, against the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. You have conspired and plotted, seeking to undermine the rule of House Targaryen."

As Otto Hightower stood before Rhaenyra, his demeanour still proud despite the gravity of the situation. "Your Grace," he began, his voice firm, "While you may have been named the heir by King Viserys, it cannot be denied that Prince Aegon was his firstborn son. What I did, I did for the good of the realm. The stability and peace of the Seven Kingdoms must always be our foremost concern."

Rhaenyra's laughter cut through the tension like a blade. "Oh, Lord Hightower," she said, shaking her head with a wry smile. "You speak of stability and peace, yet you conspired against the rightful heir, against me, in the name of your own ambitions."

She gestured around the throne room, where the banners of numerous noble houses adorned the walls. "Look around you, Lord Hightower," she continued, her voice ringing with conviction. "Do you see the banners of House Velaryon, of House Stark, of House Arryn? Do you see the support of House Celtigar and Houses Darklyn, Massey and Bar Emmon? They stand with me, not out of obligation, but out of belief. They recognize me as their queen, and they are ready to follow me into whatever challenges lie ahead."

Otto Hightower's expression faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his features as he surveyed the assembled nobles who had rallied behind Rhaenyra.

"In the end," Rhaenyra concluded, her voice steady and resolute, "It is not the gender of the ruler that matters, but their strength, their wisdom, and their ability to lead. And I will prove to the realm that I possess all of these qualities and more."

With that, Rhaenyra settled back upon the Iron Throne, her gaze unwavering as she awaited Otto Hightower's response, confident in her claim and the support of those who stood by her side.

"Lord Otto Hightower," she proclaimed, her voice echoing through the throne room with a regal authority that brooked no dissent. "For the crime of treason against the Crown and the realm, I hereby sentence you to death."

A hush fell over the assembled courtiers as Rhaenyra's judgment reverberated throughout the chamber. But there was one who welcomed her decree with a dark and eager anticipation.

Daemon stepped forward; his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity as he accepted the queen's command. He had waited for this moment, the chance to mete out justice to those who had dared to challenge the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

"As you command, Your Grace," Daemon said, his voice resonating with a chilling certainty. Without hesitation, he drew Dark Sister from its scabbard, the blade glinting in the torchlight as he advanced towards Otto Hightower.

There was a grim finality to the scene as Daemon positioned himself before the condemned lord, his grip tightening on the hilt of his ancestral sword. With a swift and practiced motion, he raised Dark Sister high above his head, ready to carry out Rhaenyra's sentence with cold and unwavering resolve.

The sound of steel slicing through the air was followed by a deafening silence as the blade descended, severing Otto Hightower's head from his shoulders in a single, clean stroke. The head rolled to the ground, a silent testament to the consequences of betraying the Iron Throne.

"Bring forth Jasper Wylde, Tyland Lannister, and Maester Orwyle," she declared, her tone firm and unwavering.

The guards swiftly obeyed, ushering the accused before the Iron Throne where Rhaenyra sat, her expression a mask of regal resolve. Jasper Wylde, Tyland Lannister, and Maester Orwyle stood before her, their faces a mixture of defiance and resignation as they awaited judgment.

"You stand accused of treason against the Crown and the realm," Rhaenyra proclaimed, her voice echoing through the chamber. "You conspired with Otto Hightower to undermine the rightful rule of House Targaryen.”

The accused men remained silent; their guilt apparent in the weight of their silence.

"For your crimes," Rhaenyra continued, her voice ringing with authority, "You shall face the punishment befitting traitors to the Iron Throne."

"Daemon," she said, her voice carrying a cold edge, "Carry out the sentence."

Daemon stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a fierce determination as he unsheathed Dark Sister, the legendary Valyrian steel blade glinting in the torchlight. With practiced precision, he approached the condemned men, his movements swift and purposeful.

In moments, the swift justice of the Iron Throne was meted out. The heads of Jasper Wylde, Tyland Lannister, and Maester Orwyle rolled to the ground, severed from their bodies by the swing of Dark Sister.

The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of the queen's judgment, a stark reminder of the consequences of betrayal in the game of thrones. And as Rhaenyra watched the execution unfold from her seat upon the Iron Throne, her resolve remained unshaken, a testament to her determination to maintain order and justice in the realm.

“-And now the Dowager Queen” breathed Daemon gleefully.

The guards moved swiftly, dragging Alicent from her place beside Helaena, forcing her to her knees before Rhaenyra. With a mixture of defiance and fear in her eyes, Alicent lowered her head, unable to meet the queen's unwavering gaze.

"Even though your crimes against the crown are unforgivable, I have not forgotten the love we once held for one another-and as such your life will be spared" Rhaenyra proclaimed, her voice ringing with authority. "I hereby condemn you to spend the remainder of your days confined to quarters, where you shall reflect upon your actions until the end of your days."

With a gesture, Alicent was dragged away, her fate sealed by the queen's judgment. And as she was led from the throne room.

Daemon stood by Rhaenyra's side; his expression masked in a veil of impassivity as he witnessed her decree regarding Alicent. While outwardly he maintained his composure, inwardly a storm of conflicting emotions raged within him.

Rhaenyra's leniency toward Alicent grated against Daemon's sense of justice. He had witnessed firsthand the depth of Alicent's machinations and the extent of her treachery. To him, her crimes warranted a far harsher punishment than mere confinement to quarters.

Yet, Daemon understood the delicate balance of power within the court, and he recognized the importance of presenting a united front before the realm. Any disagreement voiced in this moment could sow seeds of discord and weaken Rhaenyra's authority.

Suppressing his own misgivings, Daemon kept his thoughts to himself, his silence a testament to his loyalty to the queen and the realm. Though his inner turmoil threatened to consume him, he remained resolute in his duty, trusting in Rhaenyra's judgment, even when it clashed with his own.

Rhaenyra's gaze softened as she turned to face Helaena.

"Helaena," she said, her voice gentle yet commanding, "Come forward and swear your loyalty to your queen and sister."

With a solemn nod, Helaena knelt before the throne, her voice steady as she pledged her allegiance to Rhaenyra and the crown. "I, Helaena of House Targaryen, swear my loyalty to you, my queen and sister," she declared, her words ringing clear in the hushed silence of the chamber. "I shall serve you faithfully, now and always."

Rhaenyra's heart swelled with pride and gratitude as she acknowledged her sister's pledge.

"You have committed no crime, sweet sister," Rhaenyra proclaimed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority. "Go forth with my blessing and know that you shall always have a place by my side."

"What of my children?" she asked, her gaze pleading as she awaited Rhaenyra's response.

Rhaenyra's brow furrowed slightly as she considered her sister's question, her thoughts drifting to the innocent lives caught in the tumult of their family's struggles for power. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as she weighed her words carefully.

Then, with a solemn nod, Rhaenyra spoke, her voice carrying the weight of her decision. "Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor," she declared, "Shall continue to live within the Red Keep, under my protection. They shall know no ill will or strife, and their happiness shall be safeguarded."

A sense of relief washed over Helaena as she heard her sister's decree, gratitude shining in her eyes. With a heartfelt nod of gratitude, she thanked Rhaenyra before resuming her place next to Vaelys.

Rhaenyra's eyes swept across the throne room, her thoughts lingering on the absent figure of her youngest brother, Daeron. Though their paths had diverged, she could not ignore the blood ties that bound them together, nor the importance of his allegiance to the crown.

"Send word to Oldtown. Tell Daeron that his presence is required at the Red Keep. He is to come at once and bend the knee, pledging his loyalty to his queen and his rightful ruler."

The attendant nodded briskly, hurrying to carry out the queen's command as the rest of the court looked on, murmuring amongst themselves at the prospect of Daeron's return to the fold.

With the raven dispatched, Rhaenyra's gaze turned back to the throne, her expression one of determination and resolve. She knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but she was determined to secure the loyalty of her brother, to strengthen the bonds of their family and ensure the stability of her reign.

And as she awaited Daeron's arrival, Rhaenyra steeled herself for what was to come, namely the conversation with her daughter Vaelys who had not spoken a word since Aemond has been taken from the throne room in chains.

In a private meeting chamber within the Red Keep, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen sat at the head of a long table, flanked by her most trusted advisors and loyal lords. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation as they gathered to discuss matters of state and the future of the realm under her reign.

"My lords," Rhaenyra began, her voice commanding attention as she addressed the assembled council. "It is imperative that we establish a council of loyal lords to advise and support me in the governance of the Seven Kingdoms. We must ensure that my rule is secure and that the interests of the realm are protected."

The councillors nodded in agreement; their expressions solemn as they considered the weight of their responsibilities in the tumultuous times ahead. But as the conversation turned to the matter of Aemond, the mood grew even more sombre.

"Your Grace," said Jace, “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but keeping Aemond alive poses a threat to the stability of the realm. His actions have caused great strife within our own ranks, and his loyalty to the crown is questionable at best."

“What do suggest we do?” asked Rhaenyra.

“You should annul the marriage between Aemond and Vaelys” replied Jace, his tone firm and unwavering.

Rhaenyra's brow furrowed with concern as she contemplated Jace's proposal. However, the memory of Vaelys' fierce defence of her husband in the throne room weighed heavily on her mind, a testament to the depth of their bond.

"Vaelys would never allow such a thing," she asserted, her voice firm and resolute. "Her loyalty to Aemond is unwavering, as we witnessed in the throne room. She stood by his side without hesitation, willing to defy even her own family for the sake of their union."

“Mother-we cannot ignore the truth of the matter. Aemond's actions speak for themselves. He kidnapped Vaelys, and forced himself upon her-the child she birthed proof of his cruelty”.

Rhaenyra's brow furrowed as she considered Jace's words, the weight of his accusation settling heavily upon her. She knew that the evidence against Aemond was damning, and yet a part of her couldn't shake the memory of Vaelys' impassioned plea in the throne room.

‘Aemond isn't the monster you think he is’. Vaelys had insisted, her words ringing with a sincerity that Rhaenyra could not ignore.

“Mayhaps we shouldn’t condemn Aemond completely-let’s not forget that he deliberately placed himself in harms way during the battle of Rooks Rest, if it wasn’t for Aemond both myself and my grandmother Rhaenys would be dead”.

“One good deed doesn’t make up for all the bad, he took Vaelys against her will and kept her away from her family for two years-” said Jace.

"-Instead of debating over the genuineness of Aemond's intentions or the severity of his actions," Cregan continued, "Let us hear from Vaelys herself. She is not a pawn to be moved at your whim, but a woman with her own thoughts and desires. We owe it to her to consider her wishes before making any decisions that could impact her future and that of her daughter".

"You speak wisely, Lord Stark," conceded Rhaenyra, her voice tinged with concern. "Vaelys' well-being must be our foremost concern".

Yet, even as Rhaenyra agreed to Cregan's suggestion, a nagging worry gnawed at the edges of her mind. Vaelys' silence troubled her deeply.

"She has been reluctant to speak with anyone," Rhaenyra admitted, her voice heavy with concern. "Preferring instead to seek solace in the gardens with her daughter”.

“Mayhaps speaking to someone who isn't family might be of some comfort” suggested Cregan.

“I appreciate your willingness to help. Vaelys' well-being is of the utmost importance to me, and your insight may prove invaluable in reaching her."

Cregan inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression one of solemn determination. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Your Grace," he replied, his voice tinged with empathy. "I am more than willing to lend an ear."

Rhaenyra nodded in gratitude, a sense of relief washing over her as she realized that she did not have to face this challenge alone. "Thank you, Lord Stark," she said, her voice sincere. "Your support means a great deal to me. Please, speak to Vaelys with compassion and understanding. She is in a fragile state, and I fear what revelations may await us."

Cregan walked slowly down the winding paths as he sought out Vaelys. The scent of blooming flowers hung heavy in the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, as he scanned the verdant surroundings in search of her presence.

And there, beneath the dappled shade of a sprawling oak tree, he spotted Vaelys, seated upon a weathered bench, her gaze fixed upon the delicate blooms that adorned the nearby flower beds. Her arms wrapped around her daughter.

Approaching with a measured pace so as not to startle her, Cregan cleared his throat to announce his presence, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. "Princess” he called out, his tone respectful yet firm, "May I have a moment of your time?"

Vaelys turned to regard him, her expression guarded yet curious as she recognized the Warden of the North. "Lord Stark," she greeted him with a nod, her voice soft with surprise. "Of course,”.

"Thank you, Princess” Cregan replied with a nod of gratitude, taking a seat beside her on the bench. "I hope I am not intruding, but I wished to speak with you about recent events. Your well-being is important”

Vaelys regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, her gaze searching his face for any hint of judgment or reproach. Finding none, she offered him a tentative smile, the corners of her lips curling upwards in a gesture of gratitude.

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Stark," she admitted, her voice tinged with emotion. "These are trying times, and I find solace in the tranquillity of these gardens, away from the chaos of the court."

Cregan nodded in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of her need for refuge in such troubled times. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. "But I also believe that sometimes, sharing our burdens with others can help lighten the load."

“I know what they all think” replied Vaelys and she gently rocked Sovia.

“-And what is that, Princess?”

“That Aemond forced himself on me” said Vaelys.

“Did he?” asked Cregan quietly.

“No-not once did Aemond force me to do anything that I didn’t want to do. I laid with him because I chose too, because I wanted him in a way that a wife wants her husband”.

“But he brought you to Kings Landing against your will?” questioned Cregan.

“Yes, he did-but from the moment he brought me here, he endeavoured to keep me safe, even when Aegon insisted that the bedding be witnessed, Aemond kept me covered”.

“An honourable thing to do for his wife” muttered Cregan.

“He has his moments” said Vaelys smiling.

“They want to annul your marriage” said Cregan.

“Did my display in the throne room not convince them of my devotion to my husband” exclaimed Vaelys.

“Concerns have been expressed about Aemond’s proximity to the crown. Upon your mothers natural passing, you will ascend the throne and Aemond would be your King consort”.

“If that’s the case then I will give up my claim in favour of Jace or Luke” replied Vaelys.

“Aemond really means that much to you?” mused Cregan.

“We’ve endured so much these last two years-“ said Vaelys.

“A burden shared-is a burden halved” replied Cregan.

With a deep breath, Vaelys recounted the tale of the threats, the fear and the poisoning that had claimed the life of her unborn child.

"And then there was Aegon," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "Aemond's brother. He-he tried to force himself upon me, to take what wasn't his to take."

The memories flooded back with painful clarity, the fear and desperation she had felt in that moment threatening to overwhelm her. But she pressed on, determined to share the truth with someone who might understand.

"And Aemond," she said, her voice catching in her throat, "He-he killed Aegon to save me”.

As she spoke the words aloud, a flood of emotions washed over her: gratitude for Aemond's sacrifice, and guilt for the burden she had placed upon him.

Cregan listened intently, his expression one of solemn understanding as he absorbed the weight of Vaelys' revelations. He knew that her words carried a truth that could not be denied, and he felt a deep sense of empathy for the woman who had endured so much in silence.

"Princess," he said, his voice gentle yet firm, "Your courage in sharing these truths with me is commendable. You have faced trials that would break lesser souls, and yet here you stand, resilient and strong."

“Technically I’m sitting, but I appreciate your sentiment all the same” replied Vaelys a hint of a smile gracing her features.

“The truth you've shared with me is both powerful and poignant. But I believe there is one person who needs to hear it more than anyone else: your mother, the Queen”.

Vaelys' gaze faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "But-I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "To speak of such things, t-to my mother”

Cregan reached out a reassuring hand, offering her a sense of strength and support. "I understand your hesitance, Princess," he said, his tone gentle yet unwavering. "But consider this: the truth has the power to save Aemond”.

He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "If the Queen knew the extent of Aemond's sacrifice, if she understood the truth of what transpired that day, she may see him in a different light”.

Vaelys listened intently, the weight of Cregan's words settling upon her like a mantle. She knew that he spoke sense, that the truth had the power to change everything. And yet, the prospect of revealing her darkest secrets to her mother filled her with a profound sense of dread.

"But what if she doesn't believe me?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "What if she thinks I'm lying or delusional?"

Cregan's gaze softened, his expression filled with understanding. "Trust in your mother's love, Princess," he replied, his voice infused with quiet reassurance. "She may surprise you in ways you cannot imagine”

With a sense of resolve coursing through her veins, Vaelys nodded in agreement.

In the quiet solitude of Queen Rhaenyra's chambers, Vaelys found herself facing her mother, her heart heavy with the weight of the truths she was about to reveal. The air seemed to crackle with tension as she gathered her courage, knowing that the conversation ahead would not be an easy one.

"Mother," she began, her voice trembling with emotion, "There are things you need to know”

Rhaenyra regarded her daughter with a mixture of concern and curiosity, sensing the gravity of her words. "Vaelys," she said softly, her voice tinged with apprehension, "Whatever it is, you can tell me”.

With a deep breath, Vaelys began to speak, her words pouring forth like a floodgate opening. She spoke of the poisoning, the miscarriage and Aegon trying to force himself upon her.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened as she listened to her daughter explain how Aemond had killed Aegon. He had chosen her over his brother and bore burden of slaying his own kin for her.

As the truth of her daughter's words sank in, Rhaenyra felt a wave of emotions wash over her: disbelief, horror, and above all, a fierce protectiveness for her child. She reached out a trembling hand, grasping Vaelys' tightly in her own, a silent reassurance that she was not alone in her pain.

"Oh, Vaelys," Rhaenyra murmured, her voice thick with emotion, "I had no idea-I am so sorry, my sweet girl. W-We all believed that Aemond was the one who-“

“No mama. Never” said Vaelys.

“I guess it makes sense now-why you would throw yourself into the path of your fathers blade”.

"What Aemond did-it was an act of great courage, there's no denying that. He risked everything to protect you, to save your life. And for that, I am eternally grateful."

She paused, her gaze searching Vaelys' face for any sign of understanding. "But despite his intentions, Aemond still committed a grave act of treason. He aided in usurping the throne, and he kidnapped a Princess of the realm, no matter what came after, it cannot go unpunished."

The words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the harsh realities of their world. Rhaenyra knew that as Queen, she had a duty to uphold the law and ensure that justice was served, even when it pained her to do so.

"I know this is difficult to hear, Vaelys," she continued, her voice soft yet resolute, "But Aemond's actions cannot be excused. He must face the consequences of his choices, for the sake of the realm and the integrity of House Targaryen."

Vaelys nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. She knew that her mother spoke the truth, even if it was a truth, she wished she didn't have to face.

"Please don’t take his life” begged Vaelys.

In the halls of the Red Keep, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation as Aemond was brought before the throne room, his hands bound in chains. The clinking of metal echoed off the stone walls, a twisted echo to when his own wife had been dragged into the throne room bound in chains.

As Aemond entered, flanked by guards with steely expressions, the room fell silent. His gaze remained steady, though there was a flicker of defiance in his eye, a silent declaration of his unwavering resolve.

Queen Rhaenyra sat upon the Iron Throne, her expression a mask of solemn determination as she regarded her brother with a mixture of sadness and resolve. Beside her stood Daemon, his presence a reminder of the weight of the law and the need for justice.

Vaelys stood next to Cregan, her eyes never leaving Aemond, praying that her mother would be merciful.

"Aemond Targaryen," Rhaenyra's voice rang out, commanding attention as she addressed the man before her, "You stand accused of kidnap and committing treason against the crown. How do you plead?"

Aemond's jaw clenched, his gaze never wavering as he spoke, his voice firm and unwavering. "I plead guilty to the charges brought against me," he declared, his words echoing through the chamber.

As Aemond's confession echoed in the throne room, Rhaenyra's gaze shifted to her daughter, Vaelys, her expression a mask of anguish and uncertainty. In that moment, a tumult of emotions roiled within Rhaenyra's heart, each one vying for dominance in the tumultuous sea of her mind.

Her eyes lingered on Vaelys, her beloved daughter, and a pang of guilt gnawed at her conscience. It would be so easy, she thought, to give Daemon the order to take Aemond's life with one stroke of his blade, Dark Sister. The realm would be rid of a traitor, justice would be served, and the threat to her family's safety would be extinguished.

But as she looked upon Vaelys, a mother's love and instinctual protectiveness surged within her, drowning out the clamour of her doubts. She could not ignore the pain that would sear through her daughter's heart if she were to witness the execution of the man she loved, no matter the crimes he had committed.

No, Rhaenyra realized with a heavy heart, she could not subject Vaelys to such anguish. She could not bear to see the light extinguished from her daughter's eyes, to witness the shattered remnants of her spirit in the wake of such a devastating loss.

For a mother's love was a force beyond measure, a bond unbreakable and enduring. And though the weight of her duty as queen pressed heavily upon her, Rhaenyra knew that she could not forsake the love she bore for her daughter, nor the promise she had made.

“Aemond Targaryen-“Rhaenyra continued, her words deliberate and measured, "I sentence you to Exile. For a period of two years. During this time, you are forbidden to set foot in any territory under my rule, and you are prohibited from communicating with your wife, Princess Vaelys."

Aemond's jaw tightened, and Vaelys gasped at her mothers words, the tears running down her cheeks.

"Should you defy this exile and return before the allotted time has passed," the Queen continued, her gaze unwavering, "You will be executed-I hope this serves as a reminder that loyalty to the crown is paramount, and any betrayal shall be met with the harshest consequences."

A hushed silence fell over the hall as the gravity of the queen's judgment sank in. Aemond, though outwardly composed, couldn't hide the shadow of disappointment and bitterness that clouded his eye.

"May this sentence stand as a testament to justice of the realm," Queen Rhaenyra declared, rising from the Iron Throne “You will leave Kings Landing on the morrow-I will permit you to spend your last night in the Red Keep however you choose”

“Your Grace-mother please” begged Vaelys.

“ābrazȳrys” muttered Aemond (Wife).

“Aemond-“

"Vaelys, my love," Aemond spoke, his voice echoing through the vast hall. "The Queen, has made her decision and I accept that punishment."

“Two years” whispered Vaelys.

“It could have been much worse” replied Aemond as a guard shuffled forward and unlocked his chains.

“You may want to make use of the time you have left to say your goodbyes,” said Rhaenyra.

In the dim glow of candlelight, Vaelys and Aemond found solace in the sanctum of their chambers, the weight of Aemond's impending exile hanging heavy in the air. Their daughter Sovia, lay nestled between them.

As they lay together, Aemond's gaze lingered upon Sovia, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would soon be parted from his beloved daughter. He traced the delicate curve of her cheek, committing every feature to memory, as if to etch her image upon his soul.

"She will be over two names days old when I return," Aemond murmured sadly, his voice thick with emotion. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the time that would pass in his absence, and the moments he would miss as Sovia grew and changed.

Vaelys reached out a hand, her touch gentle and comforting as she intertwined her fingers with Aemond's. "We will make the most of this night," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "And when you return, Sovia will know the love of her father, just as she does now."

Sovia's tiny hand reached out, her chubby fingers grasping Aemond's thumb with a surprising strength. Aemond's heart swelled with love and pride as he looked down at his daughter.

And then, in a soft and sweet voice, Sovia uttered her first word: "Da-da."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his daughter's sweet voice. He exchanged a stunned glance with Vaelys, their eyes meeting in shared wonderment at this momentous occasion.

"That's right, my sweet girl” whispered Aemond his voice trembling with emotion as he brushed a gentle finger against Sovia's soft chubby cheek.

“Da-Da. Da-Da” cooed Sovia.

“My little girl-“

Vaelys reached out, her hand finding his in a comforting gesture. "Always," she whispered, her voice tinged with love and pride.

Tears glistened in Aemond's eye as he looked upon his wife, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the love and unwavering support she had shown him.

As Sovia nestled into the arms of Ceci, Aemond and Vaelys watched with tender affection, knowing that their precious daughter was in good hands. With a reassuring smile, Ceci promised to stay with Sovia throughout the night, ensuring her comfort and safety.

With Sovia settled, Aemond and Vaelys found themselves alone in the quiet of their chambers, the air thick with anticipation and desire. They exchanged a knowing glance, the weight of their shared experiences binding them together in a silent understanding.

In the flickering glow of candlelight, Aemond and Vaelys came together in a passionate embrace, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss that ignited a fire within them both. As the night stretched on, Aemond and Vaelys savoured every touch, every kiss, knowing that their time together was precious and fleeting.

They made love to one another as many times as they could that night, neither one of them wanting to sleep, time was precious, and they didn’t want to waste a single second.

Aemond took Sovia in his arms and held her close, his nose buried in her messy silver curls "Daddys go to go away for a little while-be good for your mother byka grēges" (little bug)

As Aemond spoke, he pressed a tender kiss to Sovia's forehead, savouring the softness of her skin against his lips. He could feel the precious seconds slipping away, each passing moment carving a deeper ache within him.

Aemond enveloped Vaelys in his arms, holding her tightly against him as if trying to etch her presence into his very being.

“Nyke kivio issa jorrāelagon bona nyke jāhor māzigon arlī naejot ao” whispered Aemond (I promise my love that I will come back to you).

“Avy jorrāelan olvie” replied Vaelys (I love you so much).

Tears glistened in Vaelys' eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. "Aemond," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the silence. "May the gods watch over you and guide you back to me safely."

With one last lingering kiss, Aemond reluctantly pulled away, his resolve steeling him for the journey ahead. As he made his way towards Vhagar, but stopped when he caught sight of Helaena standing with Daeron who it seemed had only just arrived, given his dragon Tessarion was looming ominously behind him.

"Helaena, Daeron," Aemond called out, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of apprehension. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Helaena turned towards him, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Did you really think that you could leave without saying goodbye" she replied, her voice soft but resolute. "We wanted to see you off, to let you know that you are not alone in this."

Daeron stepped forward, his gaze meeting Aemond's with a steely resolve. "You may be embarking on this journey alone, brother," he spoke, his voice steady and unwavering, "But know that our hearts are with you every step of the way. We stand beside you, now and always."

Aemond felt a swell of gratitude wash over him as he looked upon his siblings, their unwavering support a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. He stepped closer to them, a sense of solidarity enveloping them in their shared moment of farewell.

"Thank you, Helaena, Daeron," Aemond said, his voice filled with emotion. "Your presence here means more to me than words can express. I will carry your love and support with me, even in the darkest of times."

With a solemn nod, Helaena reached out, embracing her brother tightly, while Daeron clasped his arm in a gesture of brotherhood and solidarity.

“Before I leave- Daeron, I must ask that you protect and watch over Vaelys and Sovia, they are my most precious treasures.

"You have my word, brother," replied Daeron, his voice unwavering with determination. "I will watch over Vaelys and Sovia and I shall ensure their safety and well-being in your absence."

Aemond's shoulders relaxed slightly, a sense of relief washing over him as he heard Daeron's solemn vow. "Thank you, brother”.

With a final, lingering glance at his wife and daughter, Aemond made his way towards Vhagar.

As he began to ascend the net ladder to her saddle, Aemond spared one last meaningful look back at Vaelys and Sovia, their figures bathed in the soft light of dawn.

With a heavy heart but a steadfast spirit, Aemond mounted Vhagar's back, ready to soar into the unknown.

Vaelys stood on the grassy plain with Sovia cradled in her arms, their eyes locked on the diminishing figure of Aemond astride the mighty Vhagar.

The wind carried the distant echoes of Vhagar's roar, mingling with the silent sobs that threatened to escape Vaelys' chest.

Sovia, as if sensing her mother's grief, clung to Vaelys, her small arms wrapped tightly around her mother's neck. Vaelys pressed a tender kiss to Sovia's forehead, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. As they watched Aemond disappear into the horizon, a knot tightened in Vaelys' throat, the weight of separation settling heavily upon her shoulders.

Vaelys smiled through her tears, brushing a strand of Sovia's hair away from her face. "He'll soar through the skies, and you'll see him again, my sweet Sovia. Your father will return, I promise."

As Vhagar and Aemond became a mere speck in the distance, Vaelys whispered words of love and hope into Sovia's ear, a mantra to carry them through the days of longing. They remained on the grassy plain until the last glimpse of dragon and rider disappeared.

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gsirvitor · 1 month

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https://nationalpost.com/news/no-joke-ottawa-to-give-ukraine-4-million-to-fund-gender-inclusive-demining

The press release that went out Saturday makes mention of $3.02 billion in financial and military support to Ukraine in 2024, but it also outlines a number of smaller, targeted initiatives.

One of these, listed as “Gender-inclusive demining for sustainable futures in Ukraine,” has a funding budget of $4 million.

“This project from the HALO Trust aims to safeguard the lives and livelihoods of Ukrainians, including women and internally displaced persons, by addressing the threat of explosive ordnance present across vast areas of the country,” the item reads.

“Project activities include conducting non-technical surveys and subsequent manual clearance in targeted communities; providing capacity building to key national stakeholders; and establishing a gender and diversity working group to promote gender-transformative mine action in Ukraine.”

The buzzword-laden final phrase caught many off-guard, and social media began filling up with queries and jokes about what it could mean.

People’s Party of Canada leader Maxime Bernier was perhaps the most straightforward when he tweeted a picture of the policy in question, adding: “No joke! YOU’RE ALL PAYING TO PROMOTE GENDER-INCLUSIVE DEMINING IN UKRAINE”

While the phrase “gender-transformative mine action” proved the biggest stumbling block, with some on X wondering if landmines themselves had a gender, the notion of gender-inclusive demining is actually quite simple.

As the website of The HALO Trust explains, “Clearing landmines inspires confidence by making land safe. It is also empowering for men and women alike. With training and a living wage, they can take control of their destiny.” The HALO Trust is a U.K.-based non-governmental organization dedicated to clearing landmines in conflict zones around the world.

Canada’s announcement does seem to be somewhat fixated on gender issues, with the word “gender” appearing seven times in the press release, including a mention of “gender responsiveness” in funding for resilient food systems; fighting gender disparity in Ukrainian media; and “gender-responsive” community priorities in reconstruction efforts.

Charlotte MacLeod, a spokesperson with Global Affairs Canada, told the Post that, thanks to HALO’s lobbying efforts, the Ukrainian Ministry of Defence in 2017 approved the employment of women as deminers, something that was previously banned by Ukrainian labour laws.

In a factsheet on the country, HALO notes: “Ukraine has seen the heaviest landmine and unexploded ordnance contamination in Europe since WW2, with an estimated 6.1 million people at risk.”

It estimates there are hundreds of thousands if not millions of actives mines in the country, and notes there have been more than 1,000 civilian casualties from mines there to date, and around 300 fatalities.

Because of social and economic roles, men and boys are more likely to be injured or killed by landmines. However, in some societies women and girls are expected to take on a caregiving role for survivors, or they may be taken out of school or married at an early age in response to the loss of a provider.

>men most likely to be killed and injured by landmines

>women most affected

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mxlfoydraco · 1 year

Note

Hi!!! Do you know any fic where Draco join the Golden Trio in their Hocrux Hunting in 7th year? Thnx

Hello! I know some,

Horcrux Hunting

Temptation on the Warfront by Alizarincrimson (180k)

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Chronological Displacement by bookinit (89k)

In which Harry and Draco have a time-turner accident, and many things go wrong, but a lot of things also go right. Featuring: reptilian bonding night, canon-inaccurate animagus lessons, and a fuck-ton of pining.

aka the fic where Harry finds his family, and fights to keep them.

Consequences of Redemption by bobbirose (120k)

When Draco makes an impromptu decision to rescue Harry Potter from Malfoy Manor, the two find themselves completely alone and facing the looming climax of the war against Voldemort. Harry must start from the beginning with Draco–and starting over has more consequences than either of them anticipated.

Finite Incantatum by Alysian_Fields (153k)

What should have happened after ‘Half Blood Prince’! It’s the autumn after Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters are steadily gaining power, and Harry and his friends are desperate to find the remaining Horcruxes. But then Draco Malfoy arrives at Grimmauld Place, traumatised, starved and drained of all his magical ability. It falls to Harry to show the Slytherin how to adapt to his new way of life, never guessing that Draco has a few things to teach him in return.

The Sum of Your Scars by Tessa Crowley (4k)

Draco will never forgive Harry for making him a better person, and will never forgive himself for falling in love with him.

Earthbound Spook by cest_what (57k)

Two months after Draco Malfoy was reported dead, Harry and Ron found him tangled in Strangler Ivy on the grounds of Hogwarts.

The Serenity of His Rage by Lomonaaeren (152k)

AU of HBP. Narcissa never made Snape swear an Unbreakable Vow, and in the end, Draco decides to accept Dumbledore’s offer of sanctuary. But when Narcissa dies and Dumbledore declares his intention to create a soul-bond between Harry and Draco mainly to get rid of the Horcrux in Harry, Draco becomes enraged. He’ll use the soul-bond and the sanctuary Dumbledore gave him. But not exactly in the ways that Dumbledore anticipated.

Vulnera Sanentur by Zzzara (51k)

When Harry Potter fires a deadly curse at his "arch-enemy", he has no idea what the curse does. He has no idea he will soon beg Draco Malfoy's forgiveness and try his best to atone. He has no idea that the ugly bathroom incident he would rather forget will tangle and bind their lives together with no chance of escape. Navigating a treacherous path between Dumbledore's lies and Voldemort's orders, Draco is trapped and considered to be dead by both sides of the Wizarding War. Against the Golden Trio's wishes, he joins them on the Horcrux hunt. Except that he has no idea what he is hunting for. This is a love-story, a fight-story, very much compliant to the 6th and 7th 'Harry Potter' books and yet, very, VERY different. Because this time - after the Sectumsempra incident - Harry visited Draco in the hospital wing and tried to apologise.

Men Who Love Dragons Too Much by @fencer-x (522k)

[Extensive re-telling of Deathly Hallows] ‘Kill Albus Dumbledore’ is less a challenging task and more a suicide mission, so when Draco Malfoy is presented with the option to either dispatch his Headmaster or suffer an excruciating and most ignominious death of his own, along with his parents, he reaches deep into his black little Slytherin heart and manages to scrape together enough courage to go with option C instead: Spend Sixth Year secretly studying Animagecraft in the hopes he’ll turn into something sufficiently imposing even the Dark Lord himself won’t be able to keep Draco under his thumb. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter.

Speak (and may the world come undone) by @shealwaysreads (26k)

The war is on in earnest, and the hunt for the Horcruxes has begun. Harry receives help from the least expected person, and must decide whether he can trust the enemy he knows best. A story of grey-tinged loyalty, the silver of trust in the darkness, the agony of courage, the unexpected richness of secrets, and the vast unknown of survival.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Bad Faith by jad (224k)

Four years after Dumbledore's death, Draco Malfoy shows up on the doorstep of number twelve, Grimmauld Place looking for Harry Potter. Torn between his own self-preservation and his family's pride, Draco finds himself alone on a battlefield and has nowhere else to turn; and Harry has to learn that sometimes you don't put up walls to keep other people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.

The Eighth Tale by lettered (12k)

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

The Hush of War by @lol-zeitgeistic (351k)

Voldemort has made a bargain with Harry to stop killing muggles and muggle-borns (when at all possible, of course) in exchange for Harry's cooperation. While Harry thinks he's using the time to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord, he will realize that Voldemort is always one step ahead, and so long as he isn't killing anyone...what's the big deal? He has bigger things to worry about now, anyway. Includes dementors, pureblood culture, the prophecy, what exactly happened with Lily's sacrifice, magical breakthroughs, children Death Eaters, and portraits of family. Final pairing: H/D. Sequel to Black, in the Smothering Dark.

Brave Though The Stars They Make Me by @dwell-the-brave (108k)

After the events at the end of his Sixth Year, Draco Malfoy has been kept all but prisoner in his childhood home, Malfoy Manor. Alone, terrified, and desperate for some way out, he begins to have strange dreams - dreams of Harry Potter. Are they a trick of his mind? Or are they a way to change his fate, and a chance at redemption?

A Slight Inclination by @jilliancares (48k)

When Harry Potter is ten years old he accidentally winds up in Knockturn Alley, where he runs into a man named Lucius Malfoy. Harry is thus thrust into the wizarding world and makes his first ever friend, Draco Malfoy. Years later, Harry is on the hunt for horcruxes with his most trusted friends, Draco, Ron, Blaise, Hermione, and Pansy. Still, being in love with his best friend is bound to make their mission a little bit more difficult, isn't it?

Paradox series by kerfuffling (84k + 34k)

Thanks to a clever bit of magic and the help of an old acquaintance, Draco is given the chance to relive his years at Hogwarts with the knowledge of what exactly is in store for the future. However, when things tumble out of Draco's grasp, he finds himself losing his memories of the life he's already led as everything takes a startling turn away from what he'd always assumed to be his destiny. - Just because Draco's somehow gotten himself involved in Potter's suicide mission to defeat the Dark Lord doesn't mean he has to go quietly and actually act like a Gryffindor fool. And sure, he and Potter have some sort of relationship going on, but Draco's still a Slytherin, and he's going to bring his own brand of cunning to this cockamamy fool camping trip Potter's gone and got himself stuck in trying to save the world from evil lockets, gingers, and badly cooked food.

Death Comes for Us All by @lumosatnight (5k)

Burying his face in Draco’s hair, he can smell the smoke from the cigarette, can taste the ashes lingering in his mouth. Harry finds it comforting, a reminder that Draco has seen his worst and still chooses to stay.

Secrets by Vorabiza (395k)

Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side. H/D post-HBP ~~Complete~~

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #drarry reclist #draco malfoy #drarry fic recs #my recs #fic recs #hpdm #harry potter #horcrux hunting

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hail-brod · 6 months

Text

A Chance and Beyond (1)

Next chapter: (Chapter 2)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Loki x FReader

Set after the events of Thor: Ragnarok and begins with Infinity War when the spaceship containing Thor and the other Asgardians were spared from the supposed attack of Thanos. Meaning, Loki is alive. But the threat still looms.

(Also, let's just pretend Hela didn't destroy Mjollnir :DD)

Spoilers for Loki season 2!

Warning/s: Just some cursing

WC: 3.3k

When you realized that your existence is in great trouble, you do your best to find a way to get back to where you were previously encapsulated as a time criminal. After all, they're the reason why you're fucked. But, seems like you'll be needing the Avengers' help first. And Loki's.

"What the fuck."

Was all Tony Stark could managed to say after being abruptly interrupted by a terrifyingly distorted figure appearing right in front of him, evidently disrupting the banter he was having with the so-called God of Mischief, Loki. The other avengers surrounding the two men were no different, frozen on their spot as they gather round in the sophisticated compound, loss for words at the woman who happens to appear uninvited.

You stood there breathless.

Without any second thoughts, they made their move directing a fighting stance at you, as if expecting a sudden attack. Just what you'd expect from the Earth's mightiest heroes.

Minus Loki.

Though, not without a hint of confusion delighting their faces.

After you had successful regain your balance, although still dreading the feeling of being ripped apart through time, you slowly flayed your hands up in defeat. Panting, you surveyed around.

You were in the Avengers' compound.

"What...in the hell was that?" the one who seemed to have said that was actually the only one hesitant to attack you, knuckles upfront him with an obvious unsureness as his eyes warily scanned you. Gaping, he continued. "Did I...Did I hallucinate that or...? Oh, god, am I going mad?"

"I don't believe that is the case here, Banner." boomed Thor, holding out Mjollnir threateningly. Eyes stern at your panting form.

Alright, how fortunate to see a very familiar face.

"I hope so. Or else, I might as well decide that being on a whole different planet for a whole year and being part of a godly family crisis has already altered my mind in many different ways."

"Bruce, calm down." a bearded blonde man with a shield said. Steve Rogers. You recall. "Just be thankful that isn't the case here because it certainly isn't."

You wish you could snort at the exchange but you have other matters to focus on at the moment. Though, you held Banner's terrified gaze with a wary of your own as you think for a moment who Banner is but you brush it aside.

You can't afford to dilly-dally with such questions and just preferably, avoid starting a needless fight.

With Stark now a few steps back from you, hands enclosed in his iron red gauntlet with the center of his palm alight, he eyed you suspiciously. He pointed at you, threatening to blast you on your spot. Not even sliding the chance to put out a snarky comment. "I don't know about that Cap. I think we've all gone mad."

"Shut it, Tony." the blondied woman in a black armored and leather suit remarked, eyeing the freaked out Banner. "Now's not the time."

He only gave her a stern look before returning it back to you, although not without muttering something under his breath. You can almost make out the mocking smile he had before seriously staring you down.

That's also when you perfectly noticed the raven haired God at your other side. Just like Stark, he was a few steps away. Your hands were still in the air as you didn't waste a second to slowly shift your eyes to the God who you we're just with a few hours ago.

Technically, it isn't him and also, you're not even certain if that was a few hours ago. TVA has victoriously displaced your sense of time and you have no choice but to set that aside for now.

First and foremost, let's not die in the hands of these worldly — and otherworldly — renowned superhuman Midgardian people.

"That was no sorcery." was all Loki could utter, blaring a suspicious glare at you. At this point, you can say that everyone here is glaring daggers at you with so much suspicion after just witnessing you appear uncannily right in front of their eyes. Loki's trusty daggers points at you with such intensity that you can't help but freeze on your spot entirely. You garner that moving further might just cause him to pounce on you and successfully cut your throat out.

Such a Loki trait. You consciously note. At the same time, it pricks a sense of oddness to you.

"For once, I can agree with you." this time, it was the man in a red cape. His hands projecting a some sort of fiery circular engravings — Or markings, it seems — that you were not familiar with. Although, it did felt familiar. "Who are you and why have you come here?"

Finally asking the right questions, everyone else anticipated your response.

"I'd really thought you'd ask how I did get here but, fine." your attempt at settling everything down with a little humor earned nothing. You only strained a smile. "You can put your guard down now. I doubt I can even inflict damage to any of you when I am outnumbered, don't you think?" You say with a nervous shrug.

"Wait.." Thor started. "You are an Asgardian."

Ah.

"Wait, what now?" a conflicted Banner turned to him with a frown. "Where did that come from?"

"Her clothing." it was Loki. Tilting his head, he slightly squinted at you. You can already feel their movements break from their stance but nonetheless, was still on guard. "But I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions if I were you, brother. A lie or two is easy to miss." he says that in a lowered and slick tone, eyes prying deep in your existence.

"Good preach, God of Lies, but why don't you myth brothers figure something out if she'll massacre us or join the party. Is that good or is that impossible?" Stark commands.

"That's-" Thor tries to say.

"I can do that." Oh no.

Without hesitation, Loki readies to attack you with a knowing smirk. You want to say that you expected that but in terms of fighting physically between you and him, he always precedes. Except when it comes to sorcery.

Yet, his daggers haven't spelt your doom when suddenly, you fell.

You fell and landed in a bright room enclosed with the very bright color of white. Norns, help me. At this point, I'm not even surprised if Midgardian structures could be capable of blinding me. Humans and their taste in design.

Before you could jump to assumptions whether you time-slipped again, you heard the sound of sizzling above you as you turn to look only to see a yellow ring close.

Oh. You thought. Of course. How can I forget that doctor wizard and his parlor tricks? I can do better than that.

But before you could prove it to no one in particular by trying to dematerialize a wall for your way out, which you expected to be unbreakable because, well, this is the Avengers' territory — you felt the familiar twist of your body as you closed your eyes, getting ready for what's to come. You're time-slipping. Again.

When you opened your eyes, you don't know if you should be relieved or not because you were still in the same spot.

I am seriously starting to despise this more than anything. You say in your mind, cranking your head in pain.

As if the universe has heard your impulsive thoughts for wanting to pride yourself as the better sorcerer, one episode of time-slipping has managed to avert your thoughts to a different one. There's really no point in trying to escape when you'll be thrown off eventually to a different timeline thus, relieving you off of this situation. At least you hope you'll have that kind of luck, considering that you're here imprisoned and untrusted by heroes. For the meantime, you painfully have a lot of questions.

The fact that you are time-slipping outside of TVA is making you feel wary and disoriented.

Not just that, because you're not being tossed around through time in one place like before in TVA, but because you're being tossed around in different branches of time. You can't help but overthink, a blooming panic erupts in you. If what you heard from Ouroboros was true, about the possibility of being lost to time, then maybe you can consider that that's what's occurring to you. Adding to that, how can Loki and the others track you when there's a number of branches exceeding spontaneously and you're amongst one of them — inconsistently appearing through one branch after another.

To hell with this time-slipping phenomenon.

Such thoughts have managed to waver your poised will. You don't want this. After everything that's happened, you're now overwhelmed by incomparable fear, enough to cover the pang of grief that you successfully tried to keep a hold off during the dangers you have encountered. And that causes you to resume the fear of losing something again. If before you've lost the right to exist in your own timeline, then now seems like you're losing more than you could think of.

A chance. The chance to only exist without the burden of being a criminal to time.

The Loki you met ensured you that. And you're scared to lose the hope you unconsciously held so close that he had given you.

You're scared that you're bound to be stuck in time, alone and nowhere to belong to.

You're just a displaced speck of entity in the vast timelines of universes, an error meant to be rid of.

Is this truly the ending that you deserve?

Just lost to time. For eternity.

After everything that you've been through, you think of the fact that your Nexus event was a fickle thing in the grand scheme of things. A mere sentiment, and now it's a fault that you apparently cannot undo.

Would you have regret it?

Ah. You think. That's the problem,

I don't.

For the love of Buri, what is happening?

You have already time-slipped thrice in a row now, and you're still where you stood afoot a few minutes ago.

You hitched your breathing as you relished the acquainted feeling of distortion, you exhaled in distraught. Your mind trying to run a million miles per second thinking of an explanation on the same bloody concept of time as well as your timely old friend, time-slipping. Marvelous.

But before you could sit down and relax on the cushions edging on two sides of the opposite walls which levels above your knee, you caught in the corner of your eye the wall you tried to dematerialize earlier; now fading from white to being transparent like glass.

And behind the glass wall stood your captors.

You tried to ground yourself with the wall beside you, but you pushed your body to the side so that you can at least have the decency to look like you aren't struggling so much. Because you definitely aren't.

"Good catch." remarked Stark. "We have so much going on today with Earth being threatened by a goofy alien that's apparently so much more dangerous than we could know — and now, you add more questions and trouble to that just for appearing out of nowhere like a grated spaghetti."

You almost missed the way the blonde woman rolled her eyes at Stark's words but nonetheless, you focus on what he said.

Earth being threatened by an alien.

"Do you mean to say... Thanos?" you ask. Doubtlessly aware of his feats and reputation in your timeline. Their heads perked up at the mention of the said Titan.

"You know of him?" quite surprised at the familiar voice, you turn to look at Thor.

Parting your lips with slight hesitation, you reply. "No. No, I do not. At least, not personally. He is called the Mad Titan, a galactic conqueror. Tis but a.... common knowledge where I come from."

"Which is Asgard, is it not?" Loki tauntingly says.

Oh, well.

He eyes you in victory for having caught your lie and the foolish words you had unintentionally slip. But he continued. "Or perhaps, my brother and I are mistaken to assume that you are a kin of our people. As well as considering that of your knowledge of this Mad Titan, you seem to know more than just that." you slightly stiffened, noting the lofty tone he had, slowly strutting his way forward with his hands tucked behind him. "Keep hiding your secrets but your eventual lies will get you nowhere when I'm here, imposter."

"Brother..."

"No, no, let him. It's great that we have a lie-detector in the team." Stark muses, earning an unamused head shake from Rogers.

Your gaze lingers a tad bit longer than you intended to at the raven-head, deciding whether you should even admit your unruly situation to them and potentially double their troubles a hundredfold by stating that their lives are also in danger from a timeless phenomenon and being at risk for the possible collapse of their existence altogether.

Probably not a good idea.

Moreover, you don't want to let yourself fall in the luxury of pitting yourself with fellow Asgardians and perhaps attain the old life you had when you woefully know that you have no place in any kind of reality no more. Your heart clenches at that.

But how can you possibly deny your origin and the non-sorcery distortion materialization, also called—

Your body aches and twists as you grit your teeth, shutting your eyes and reliving the ripping portion of this damned time-slip. As it ended, your breath wavers as you pant, shoulders crooked at the fleeting sensation it brought. Expecting that maybe you have been transported to another timeline, you peek one eye out.

You see the same faces and surroundings except this time, their reaction contorts to a series of pained and horrified expressions. Even Loki looked uneasy.

You exhale. "Pardon me, that must've been very unsightly." you eventually say.

"That just happened again." Banner gawks.

"Are you alright?" a stern voice asks. You turn to meet the concerned eyes of Rogers. "I assume that doesn't happen normally. Not even for Asgardians." you caught the quick glance he gave at Thor before focusing back on you.

You reply, nodding. "No, no, you're right. This is no common occurrence amongst the people of Asgard. It is simply just.... " you puff your body back up in a poised posture. "No, not simply." you let out a strained chuckle, confliction can be traced on your face. "To be painfully honest and blunt, I am lost through time and I haven't got a clue on what exactly I shall plan to do in these circumstances. Although indeed, I am an Asgardian but, from a different...let's say, reality. So rest assured because I don't plan on harming heroes I've accompanied in battle."

You were ready to receive their doubtful phrases and looks, but the sorcerer who brought you in this cage steps forward. Almost like he disapproved everything you had just mentioned.

"Time-travelling is not something to be tampered with. Unless, you're adept at the arts of time sorcery, and to be able to manipulate it without damaging our reality is rather a big feat for a sorcerer." he explains. This time, he frowns at you. "But no. Whatever's happening to you, it doesn't feel like magic."

You take in his words, holding his unrelenting stare. "You're right..."

You know Doctor Strange and his capabilities as the Sorcerer Supreme, and as you thought of the fact that he also possesses the Time Stone, maybe you can do something with his help.

Even though you know the chances of successfully using magic against a complication from TVA is way below the odds, you'd wager.

He raises a brow but before he could add more, you spoke. "Time-slipping." you pause, scanning his expression, hoping that maybe someone who knows so much about the expertise of time in terms of magic could help you discover your way back to TVA. Though, his face doesn't show any hint of knowing so you pushed further. "I've been repeatedly tossed around multiple branches of time against my will, but not because I time-traveled. For now all I can say is, I am stuck here in your reality and, well... with a distorting body."

"Great. Sure. Magic and sorcerers exist, even Gods, so why the hell would I not believe anything about time-traveling now? Tell me, Doc, is she making any sense to you?" Stark walks towards the said wizard. You slightly frowned at the tone he used. If this is how Tony Stark reacts to someone he doesn't trust just like how a particular individual mentioned to you, then you're glad that the Stark that you know favored you well.

Not that it matters anymore.

"I've never heard anything about that kind of problem. Especially now you do confirm it doesn't root from magic." the Doctor answers.

Stark hefts up his hands, looking around at everyone else, as if showing that his point has just been proven.

But from the corner of your eye, you noticed the way Loki haughtily rolls his eyes with a sigh and you perfectly know what irked him at that moment.

"As if a second-rate sorcerer could know anything more beyond the complexion of sorcery and time."

The only woman other than you sighs in slight frustration. "Oh, no. Someone please stop him."

If you weren't in a tight spot, you could've laughed at her compliant. Although, that earned her a glare from the trickster with crossed arms. For once in a while, it's nice to see Loki act so indifferently.

Strange only gave the God a pointed look before resting his eyes back on you. "Okay. If what you say is true, time-slipping as you would call it and to consider there's no magic tapping into this, what exactly do you plan on doing now?"

There it is. "I need your help."

"Are you shitting me right now?" Stark loops in.

"Even if with just your help, Doctor Strange. Please." you plead, firmly stepping closer to the glass barrier.

"How can you assure you're not just after something from us, specifically from him." Loki tips his head in Strange's direction. You know well that he caught unto your intentions as he spares a quick glance at the necklace of the said wizard.

Cocky snake.

At that, everyone stares at you sharply that if looks could kill, you'd be a dead corpse that has been stabbed with various types of weaponry magnificently forged by dwarves.

"You're not entirely wrong if you think that I'm after the Time Stone but for argument's sake, there is a reason why it is called the Time Stone." you explain, trying not to waver for being the receiving end to their eventual wrath. For a second, you thought you'd gain another yet of Loki's condescending retortions, but you're surprised that he only eyed you down impassively. Observing you.

Banner joins in. "If you admit it and put it like that then, I don't even know if you're lying or not anymore." he sits down on one of the metallic chairs by the semi-circular machinery in the middle of the room. "Even though that last part sounded dumb for an excuse; which is exactly why I'm having second thoughts."

"That's... I appreciate that — I think." you say, slightly frowning. It is dumb. You don't blame him though.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile which disappears immediately. "Yeah, no, it's fine."

Stark looks at him incredulously, as if he truly felt betrayed. "Bruce, what the hell?"

The others quirk confusingly at the exchange before you spoke again. "But to be clear again, that wasn't an excuse. Not for deception, at least."

It actually didn't sit quite well with you that the one who usually loves to deceive is standing idly in silence when you mentioned his expertise.

But you know that calculating gaze of his.

"Fine." you bat an eye at the person who spoke. "But you are to be restrained until we deem you trustworthy. One wrong step and you might just end up somewhere other than a cell."

A weight lifts up from your chest, somehow. You eye Strange in relief, almost a hint of exhaustion engulfs your expression but you blink it away. "I am grate-"

Your body contorts and twists once again.

Next chapter: (Chapter 2)

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