#AND earlier in the evening i was dancing near him with someone else and he was dancing with the aforementioned friend

[not-gorgugs-dad]

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[beloveds-embrace]

dukedom!AU but they realize she’s quickly become a type of ‘peoples princess’ outside the duchy

The timeline for this one is before reader tells john her request! I got this ask before part two dropped and already had some of it written. Hope you enjoy, anon! <3

Dukedome au masterlist

I can imagine them realizing it not from seeing it, but from hearing it, maybe during a gala hosted by John and uou. The evening is alive with music and laughter, the grand ballroom brimming with nobles and dignitaries. Yet the chatter revolve around one figure: you.

“She’s truly remarkable, isn’t she?” one elderly countess says, her voice carrying across the marble floors and gleaming ceilings. “Always so graceful, so kind. I am quite glad she is Duchess Price, now.”

John stands near the refreshments table with Simon, and overhears the conversation. His hand tightens slightly around his glass, though his face betrays nothing. Nothing new to be talked about, it was natural. And yet-

“Graceful?” a younger lady chimes in, voice calm and polite. “She’s more than that. Did you hear she personally visited the orphanage last week? Brought food and clothing, spoke to every child. And not for show- she refused to let any journalists near. That’s a true duchess.”

Simon’s brows furrows slightly, his jaw tightening. He exchanges a glance with John, the unspoken thought between them clear: she hadn’t told either of them about that visit. It wasn’t because John didn’t trust you, or that you need his permission; he just wanted to be aware of where you go and which guards you’ll take. For your own safety.

“She’s so approachable too,” a lord adds, gesturing with his wine glass. John knows this lord, he always ends up drinking too much and being too handsy. Why would you need to speak to him? “I spoke to her briefly earlier- she didn’t just listen, she cared. You can see it in her eyes. It’s no wonder the people adore her.”

Adore is putting it way too lightly.

From the other side of the room, Kyle watches as a small group of maids gossip near the staircase. He wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but their excitement is hard to ignore.

“I heard she gave her own jewelry to the head maid’s daughter to help her pay for her dowry.” One of them whispers, clutching her tray.

“That’s not all,” another group are speaking, talking about her as well. “The market vendors say she always pays more than is needed, even when they insist she doesn’t do. Such a lovely woman.”

“Wish the other nobles were like her,” the first maid says with a wistful sigh. “She’s the only one who treats us like people.”

Kyle’s lips press into a thin line as he adjusts his gloves. He prides himself on protecting you, but hearing how far your kindness extends fills him with a quiet sense of urgency. What if someone takes advantage of you and your tender heart?

It’s not just in the main hall that these words are said; down in the kitchens, Johnny is busy ensuring there’s enough food with the rest of the chefs. But still, he can hear two others talking while they work, trying not to sound too snappy or angry while he listens in on them.

As the night continues, the men find themselves more and more aware of how often your name arises in conversation. They hear nobles discussing your fashion choices (Simon secretly preens), others whispering about your visits to the poorer parts of town and the funds that have been allocated into revitalizing the areas, and even rival duchesses grudgingly admitting that you’ve set quite the high standard.

“I heard she stopped Lord Clinton from evicting his tenants,” one man says near the dance floor, though not quite close enough to be drawn into the dancing bodies. He is within John and Simon’s earshots.

“Not only that,” someone else “whispers”. “She made sure they had food and shelter through the winter. commoners love her, and she truly embodies what it means to be a noble. A true people’s princess, I say.”

John’s gaze flickers toward you, standing across the room and laughing softly with a group of nobles. You’re glowing tonight, the light catching in your hair and your smile as warm as ever, adorned in a beautiful dress.

“They don’t deserve her,” Kyle mutters, sidling up to him while holding a plate of finger foods.

John doesn’t respond, but his grip on his glass tightens again. It’s a wonder the glass hasn’t broken et.

Simon’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “The people see her as theirs.” He pauses, his gaze hardening. “But she’s ours first.”

“I cannot blame them.” John sighs. “She is the perfect duchess. But she is also my duchess, and they seem to have forgotten that.”

John means his words, and he knows his men agree with him. The world may love you, but they know the truth: no one else can have you- not the people, not the nobles, no one but them.

The ballroom continues to buzz with conversation, and John focuses back on the two men near the edge of the dance floor.

“She’s wasted on a duchy,” one of them says, swirling his wine with a smirk, more than just a little drunk. “With her charm, she could outshine the Queen herself.”

“Not just charm,” the other adds in, just as drunk. “But Influence.”

Simon stiffens, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Influence” isn’t something he takes lightly when it comes to you. It’s a dangerous thing in the wrong hands- or with the wrong admirers.

“Careful,” John mutters to him. “They’re complimenting her, not threatening her.”

Simon’s glare softens ever so slightly. “Yet.”

Johnny slowly makes his way towards a hidden corner of the ballroom, gnawing on his lips as he listens to the whispers of you.

Did you see the way she stopped to speak with the gardeners?” one of them asks. “She even complimented the hedges I trimmed last week!”

Johnny’s grin fades, his fingers drumming against his thigh. He enjoys seeing people appreciate you, but this feels different. They speak of you with reverence, as if you’re some untouchable figure. But Johnny knows better. You’re no untouchable goddess- you’re his. Theirs. That’s what matters most.

It’s when you step onto the dance floor that the tension truly rises. A duke- one who’s been eyeing you all evening- approaches you with a bow, extending his hand for a dance. You hesitate, glancing toward John out of instinct. He doesn’t move, but his eyes darken, his jaw clenched as he watches you take the duke’s hand.

The music swells and you move across the floor, laughter bubbles from your lips at something your dance partner says. The men see it for what it is: polite, nothing more. But it doesn’t stop the knot of irritation tightening even further.

“She’s a vision,” someone murmurs nearby, unaware they’re being overheard.

“Who wouldn’t fall for her?” another replies.

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

Kyle’s gaze sharpens. Johnny’s grin vanishes completely. Simon’s fists clench at his sides. And John, ever composed, finishes his wine in one long swallow, his eyes never leaving you.

He can’t allow this to go on for any longer.

The dance ends, and as you return to the edge of the ballroom, you’re immediately surrounded by more admirers- ladies complimenting your gown, lords vying for your attention. Or would have been, if John hadn’t started making his way towards you, presence larger than life.

“Your Grace,” he says smoothly, and extends his hand to you, his expression unreadable. “Dance with me.”

The request- or rather, the command- is met with stunned silence. The nobles exchange glances, but a single glance from John keeps them all silent.

You blink up at him, momentarily caught off guard, before placing your hand in his. “Of course.” you murmur softly.

John’s grip is firm but gentle as he leads you to the dance floor, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. The orchestra begins a soft waltz, and he pulls you into the first step, his movements confident and assured.

Around you, the crowd watches, whispers starting anew, though you barely notice. All you can focus on is the intensity in John’s eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’ve been busy tonight.” he says after a moment, his voice low enough that only you can hear. It sends a shiver up your spine- his voice always so nice to hear.

“It’s my role,” you reply, offering him a small smile. “Everyone has been so kind.”

He hums, his eyes flicking briefly to the onlookers before returning to you. “Too kind, perhaps.”

You raise an eyebrow at his tone but say nothing, letting him guide you across the floor. His hand tightens slightly at your waist, and he pulls you even more closer.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Better than I expected, if I’m honest. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. You always seem to surprise me, my dear.”

Your cheeks warm at the unexpected praise, and you smile up at him. “Thank you, John. That means a great deal.”

He leans in just slightly, his breath ghosting over your ear. “The way they look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower. “They can’t take their eyes off you. And I don’t blame them.”

You glance up at him, startled, but his expression is unreadable once again. He continues to lead you effortlessly through the dance, his movements precise.

“But,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “they’ll have to remember who you belong to.”

Your heart skips at his words, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His eyes soften, his grip steady as he twirls you into the final steps of the dance.

As the music fades, he leans in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re exquisite tonight, wife. Don’t let them forget it.”

With that, he leads you off the dance floor, his hand never leaving yours. The crowd parts for the both of you, their gazes following you both as John guides you back to the edge of the room, where the others wait.

You’re still breathless, his words replaying in your mind as he steps aside, positioning himself at your shoulder. Whatever protests the nobles might’ve had about your absence dissolve under his watchful glare.

And though John doesn’t say another word for the rest of the evening, his presence alone is enough to ensure no one dares to crowd you again, and no one comes between you and them. Simon and Kyle keep you busy, chatting happily with them, and Johnny joins later when the guests begin to trickle out and no one would question why a chef is there.

People’s princess you maybe, you are still theirs. John simply had to show and remind everyone of that fact.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Forgetful Flirtation - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Summary: A heavy celebration leads to a husband forgetting his wife. And a team who won't let him forget it.

Warnings: Fluff. Swearing. Slight age gap.

Requested: Yes by anon.

F1 Masterlist

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, valterribottas and others

mercedesamgf1 LEWIS HAMILTON WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX 🇬🇧

13,331 comments

totowolff you did us proud. you deserved this, lewis. enjoy 

landonorris congrats mate

yn_wolff oh, lewis, what an amazing drive. well deserved. i’m so happy for you 

→ mercedesamgf1 we can confirm that she cried 

→ lewishamilton 🫶🏾

pierregasly congrats champ! 

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad’s 

→ yn_wolff it was the luck of roscoe in the garage. maybe we should have him every weekend

→ mercedesamgf1 we agree

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate 🍾 i’ll buy you a round later

→ user1 are they going out together later?

→ user2 wouldn’t surprise me if the whole team celebrated this win

yn_wolff just posted

liked by iamrebeccad, carmenmmundt and others

yn_wolff team dinner to celebrate hubby’s, and especially lewis’, success 

3,644 comments 

totowolff meine schöne frau

→ yn_wolff i love you

francisca.cgomes oh okay so we’re dressing hot tonight?

→ yn_wolff i know you’re complimenting me but don’t make it sound like we didn’t compare outfits for tonight. you even know what kind of underwear i’m wearing! 

→ francisca.cgomes i enjoyed those pictures 

→ pierregasly pardon?

→ user3 yn is such a girl’s girl 

user4 that hand placement though 🤤

→ user5 she’s really not good for toto’s reputation

→ user6 she’s making it look like he’s groping her

→ user7 can you blame him? look at her. she’s hot liked by yn_wolff

user8 um, anyone else find it really unprofessional that she’s publicly admitting to sending images of her underwear to people?

→ francisca.cgomes one person, and i’m her friend?

→ user8 it just reflects badly on her husband who has an image to maintain 

→ totowolff no, it doesn’t. she is her own person

user9 unlike you crying bitches, i love that toto is married to someone slightly younger so that we get this content 

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Weaving through the throng of bodies, you scowled as you dodged another couple gyrating against each other near the entrance to the VIP section. Your glass was empty and your shoes kept sticking to the floor, tacky from a cocktail of spilled drinks. Scanning the crowd, you scowled as you made your way over to the bar. How was it possible to lose a 6’5 billionaire in a crowd of shorter drivers?

Gesturing wildly to a crowd of people, the man of the day caught your eye and you hurried over to him. 

“Lewis, have you seen Toto anywhere? I can’t find him.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip. 

“Last I saw, he was with Bono asking the DJ to play 80s music,” laughed Lewis, recalling the image of his team principal and engineer swaying together, a feather boa draped across the pair of them. 

You thanked him before turning and continuing on your crusade. All around you, familiar faces were wrapped around their partner’s (or women they had just met), dancing to the music or whispering in their ears. Alcohol had been flowing freely for the past three hours and the majority of the people in the club were more than inebriated. The hours had passed and you were ready for a warm shower and for your husband to tuck you into bed. Yet, he had decided to elude you.

Toto’s dress shirt hung loosely off your frame, having been draped around you earlier whilst you stood outside for some fresh air. You had simply rubbed a hand down your arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps that appeared, and there he was, bundling you up. That had been an hour ago and you hadn’t seen him since. Inhaling deeply, his scent surrounded you. The only comfort you had as you began to wonder whether he’d left you here in his drunken state.

Lando was up on the platform flapping his arms in a dramatic manner and messing around with the decks, directing you to where you thought you’d spotted a tall figure shrouded in the shadows. 

“Yn!” Bono greeted, beaming at you through the pink feathers enveloping his face. 

“Having a good night, Bono?” You asked, smiling at the sight of him. “Toto, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Well, hello there,” your husband drawled, peering down at you with a heated gaze. “Come here often?” 

“What?” You laughed, leaning closer to hear him over the music. Surely you had misheard. 

“I would’ve remembered seeing a woman as beautiful as you before.” 

Beside you, Bono was shaking with silent laughter, gesturing wildly at someone in the distance. Probably summoning more people to bear witness to the peculiarity happening before you. Sidling up to him, you wrapped a hand around his bicep under the guise of stabilising yourself. You felt the muscle under your hand flex.

“Careful, Mr Wolff. If you keep being nice to me, I might have to take you home.”

His arms wrapped around your lower back, pulling you close against him. A heart stopping smile filled his face. “I don’t think I’d object to that. I would, however, like your name first.” 

“Is he being serious?” Somebody whispered behind you, earning a wave of raucous laughter from the Mercedes team that had gathered. 

“You smell nice.” Toto continued, nose nuzzling into the ticklish spot under your ear. You arched against his touch. He may not remember your marriage certificate but he clearly knew where best to tease you. 

Running your fingers down his arm, you grabbed his left hand, tracing circles across the back of it. His wedding ring - part of a matching set - glistened in the strobe lighting. Fiddling with his fingers, you raised your hand up to your face, pulling it into his periphery. You twisted the band around his finger, letting it catch the light and his eye. 

“I’m sorry but I don’t date married men.”

You dropped your husband’s hand, sliding out from his hold. Turning away from him, you snaked through the crowd and away from him. Dazed, Toto looked at his left hand in bewilderment. He slid the band off his finger, looking at the date engraved inside. Opposite him, his team continued to cackle at his misfortune. He was in so much trouble tomorrow. 

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yn_wolff added to her story

liked by mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomes and others

georgerussell63 replied to slide 2 at least he remembers you there → yn_wolff you keep teasing him about that and you might seriously find yourself without a seat next season → georgerussell63 don’t say that. i know you’d protect me  → yn_wolff don’t push your luck → i’ll see you for dinner on thursday though? → georgerussell63 wouldn’t miss it

francisca.cgomes replied to slide 3 how are you awake enough to do all that? → i feel like i’ve died. pierre keeps bringing me cups of tea but i can’t even lift my head to drink them  → yn_wolff tbf, kiks, you drank far more than i did 😂 → plus toto has been doing everything for me despite looking like death himself → i think he feels bad for forgetting i was his wife → francisca.cgomes at least you know even drunk you’re the only woman he wants? 

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and others

mercedesamgf1 the silver arrows know how to party

4,463 comments

georgerussell63 yeah and our team principal knows how to forget his wife 

→ totowolff george, would you like to stay with mercedes next season?

→ yn_wolff don’t threaten your drivers online, dear

→ georgerussell63 i’m only speaking the truth

→ user10 george, you don’t look like you were in any state to remember things either

yn_wolff can somebody blow that photo up and print it off for me. i think i need it in my bedroom

→ user11 you get to go home with the real thing, leave the photo for us 

→ yn_wolff i almost didn’t

→ totowolff not you as well, liebling

→ user12 what does this mean? 

lewishamilton hell of a party 

pierregasly maybe don’t let your team principal join next time

alex_albon happy wife happy life probably isn’t working for toto right now 

maxverstappen1 i think we should get toto drunk before race weekends, maybe he’ll forget his strategies 

→ user13 what does this mean? let us innnnn

totowolff i’ll be speaking to all your team principals tomorrow about your behaviour 

→ charles_leclerc yes, dad 

→ landonorris oh, no. now we’ve done it 

→ georgerussell63 who do you talk to about mine?

yn_wolff you forgot your wife, mein herz, i don’t think your scary boss act is going to work today 

→ user14 he did what?!

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Requests open for smau's

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[ivy-elle]

“Do you believe in fate?”

His sudden question cuts through the quiet stillness of the bedroom, and makes you halt.

“How much of Childe’s drinks have you had earlier to ask me about fate now?” you retort, while his hand absentmindedly trails through your hair.

“Shut up, you brat. Just answer the question.”

You stifle a laugh. “Alright.” The sheets rustle as you shift in bed. “Well… that depends, I’d say.”

Scaramouche doesn’t scoff like you’d expect him to. Yet his tone is still gruff, but not mocking. “Fate isn’t a conditional concept.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” he says bluntly, “you either believe in it, or you don’t. Simple as that.”

Your eyes drift to the ceiling, tracing the dim veins of light dancing above. 

“You can’t prove fate exists. It’s only real because you believe in it,” you muse quietly. “But as you said, it’s a concept. If I believe in it, it exits in my mind. So why can’t it be conditional in my mind?”

His brows furrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Mhm. Do you believe in fate, then?”

“No.”

“Because you want to be in control of your life?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of someone pulling my strings to their entertainment.”

“So, you deem fate as some sadistic spectator of life.”

“Yes. Which is why I’d rather not give it more power by believing in its existence.”

“That’s an interesting paradox.”

He doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his fingers resume their path through your hair, pensive. Then-

“What do you mean by ‘fate is dependable’?”

You sit up halfway in bed, looking down at him. His hands instinctively settle on your waist, holding you close.

“I mean it like…” You pause, considering on your words, “I like to think of fate as a kind of kick-off. Like a push in the right direction.”

Your finger traces gently along his collarbone as you continue. “But it’s in our hands to find the right path. In the end, we form our own lives.”

“Then tell me,” he mutters, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer, his eyes flickering with intensity, “who decides what’s the right or wrong path? That’s quite the divine arrogance, don’t you think?”

“You’re blind in your utter hatred for the Archons,” you shoot back, lying down next to him again. You rest your head against his chest.

“Can you truly blame me for that?” His arms move around your waist, almost a second nature to have you as near as possible.

“No,” you whisper. “I don’t think I can hold that against you.”

“Whatever damn path I might have been pushed onto, as you said - fate sure has a macabre sense of humour.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but your path isn’t done yet.”

“Precisely. And don’t even think about leaving my side any time soon.”

“Mhm, I wouldn’t dare.” Your gaze drifts back to the lights dancing on the ceiling. “Besides, who else would I talk to about the meaning of life in the middle of the night?”

“Shut up.”

Some time passes in which silence settles on you like a warm blanket, while you both ponder on the conversation. When you think he’s already fallen asleep, you quietly speak into the dim room. 

“I like to believe in fate because it means there’s still a kind of mercy in the universe, that wishes for our souls to find some peace.”

Scaramouche doesn’t respond, but you feel his finger gently resting against the pulse point of your wrist.

You close your eyes, a peaceful smile gracing your lips. 

[jobean12-blog]

Burn for You

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Even though you know Marcus would protect you with his very last breath you still want to learn to defend yourself but what will your husband say when you ask him to teach you?

Author's Note: Just another little story in our happy world where everyone is on the same side and friends haha. This is a stand alone story that I couldn't resist after seeing the new snippets from the movie- and then Pedro himself posts the sword gif and I died all over again. How dare he? It's so hot🔥🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty and tense, he's always soft and perfect, semi public sex, smut, they just can't get enough of each other.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The gold trimmed linen falls over his bare skin, and you smooth your hands down his chest to straighten it.

“When are you going to teach me how to wield a sword General?”

You reach for the fascia, gently placing it over his leg before starting to secure it. When his silence drags on you look up from your kneeling position.

“Are you trying to think of some filthy thing to say right now?” you tease. “I am on my knees.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk.

“If I didn’t know how much you loved being in that position, I might have something more to say…”

“But…” you finish for him as you slowly slide up his body and meet his eyes.

“Your question has surprised me.”

You take his cuirass and press it to his chest with more force than is necessary.

“And why is that husband?” you ask through clenched teeth.

As you begin to tug on the leather strings at his sides he grabs both your wrists, grasping them in one hand and pulling you against his chest, while the fingers of his other press under your chin and hold your gaze to his.

“You think I do not believe you capable?” he asks with his brows drawn in.

“Why else would you not teach me?” you huff.

“Like my heart, body and soul, you have my sword until my last breath and forever after,” he whispers against your lips.

Your expression softens and you press your fingertips to his jaw, delicately tracing the scar just above the dark hair that lines his cheek.

“I know Marcus…”

“But…” he says, echoing your earlier sentiment.

“I wish to learn. I am strong. And I want to be able to defend myself.”

He remains quiet still, releasing your wrists and smoothing his calloused fingers along the curve of your shoulder.

“I could ask Lucius instead…” you start to muse.

“You will not,” he growls.

“He may not have the same reservations you have…whatever they may be.”

Your tone is cheeky as you press yourself closer to him, dancing your fingers down his side to give the leather straps of his cuirass a sharp tug.

He grunts lightly before his lips turn up into a smile.

“As you wish my love,” he murmurs. “I will teach you to wield a weapon.”

“Excellent,” you whisper, loosening your grip and reaching for the Manica to adorn his forearms.

He stops you with a firm hand and you raise a brow.

“On one condition…”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“You will train with me and only me. No other will come near you, touch you.”

“Of course,” you say with a lift of your chin. “Only you.”

He dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he presses you against his body.

“How much time do we have?” he mumbles, kissing you, chaste and soft.

He pulls back, licks his lips, and moves forward again, moaning softly against your mouth.

“Marcus,” you chide but it’s lacking vigor, coming out breathier and desperate.

When his hips rock you feel him, hard and ready and it’s like someone lights a match inside your chest and you curl your fingers into the edges of his cuirass and push him back toward the wall.

The draped fabric at your waist falls open and you gasp as cool air finds your skin where you’re wet and aching.

His roughened palm slides down your stomach and his fingers slip between your legs.

“Want to taste this,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his fingers in and out.

“Ah General Acacius. So good of you to grace us with your presence,” Lucius jokes, his eyes twinkling.

The other men stifle their laughter, clearing throats and shuffling feet when Marcus glares at them menacingly.

You step out from behind Marcus and smile at Lucius, whose surprised expression quickly transforms into one of mischief.

“Do we have a new trainee today General?” Lucius asks with a smirk.

Marcus ignores him and deftly twirls the sword between his fingers as he walks along the row of gladiators.

“My wife…, he begins, “wishes to learn how to fight.”

You can see that the men are trying to restrain their shock, and you meet each of their gazes, holding your head high and your shoulders poised.

“You will not touch her or even come near her,” he continues. “She will train with me and only me.”

Marcus turns his covetous eyes to you, dragging them over every inch of your skin that glistens under the warm sun.

With a hard swallow he gets into position and instructs the men on what to practice, giving Lucius control of the group so he can work with you.

“That will keep them busy for now,” he says quietly as he moves toward you, circling.

He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and slowly sliding his hand down from your shoulder to your wrist. Despite the heat, goosebumps crawl along your skin, and you feel his smile at your neck.

“Focus my beloved,” he murmurs. “You will not win any fights if you are distracted.”

The urge to throw your elbow back and into his side is strong but you refrain and strengthen your wrist.

He places the sword in your hand and maneuvers your fingers into the right position, keeping his hand over yours as he shows you the proper grip.

Every word of command is whispered into your ear and every touch of his hand is both soft and firm. Even with his impressive size and strength, he moves lithely, easily disarming you at every turn.

It frustrates you, motivates you but more than anything, and to your utter exasperation, it arouses you.

“Marcus.” You call his name while in a particularly precarious position and he quickly stands and takes you with him, his gaze concerned as it sweeps over your body.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

He waits for you to elaborate and you step closer. “Perhaps you should work with the men now. I think Lucius bores them.”

His lips tilt upward at your teasing, but he continues to study you carefully.

“Do you need a break then?”

“Perhaps I can work on my stance with Lucius,” you suggest.

His eyes narrow. “We made a deal.”

“I know,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

Then with resignation you throw back your shoulders and get into position. “I’m ready to continue.”

His body heat at your back sends another wave of tension through your body and when his calloused fingertips ghost along your thigh to fix its position you have to fight back a gasp.

“Relax your muscles,” he says as he presses on your shoulders and lower back.

You let out a slow exhale and try to focus on his direction instead of his touch, but the way his voice is low and deep in your ear drags you right back to your lascivious thoughts.

When he’s satisfied with your positioning he moves in front of you, twirling his sword tauntingly and though his forearms are hidden under the armor adorning his wrists you know the muscles flex and shift enticingly.

He beckons to you, and you advance, remembering the foot work well and making good use of your sword.

But before you can make any real progress he has you on your back and beneath him, the sandy dirt rising and floating around your head as you stare up into his face.

“You are doing well,” he assures you, sensing your frustration. “Remember, it is only your first day.”

Sweat coats his brow and you watch a droplet roll down his temple and along the line of his beard. It settles on his upper lip and the desire to lean up and kiss him is overwhelming. His scent surrounds you, sweat and leather, and his touch burns.

“Marcus,” you breathe out.

“My love,” he answers, pushing up and offering you a hand.

You crash into his chest, your eyes dropping to his mouth and your lips parting. “I need you.”

It takes him only a split second to realize the meaning of your words and his head dips to your ear, his growl full of promise.

“Do you need me to fill you my love?”

You barely get your words of affirmation out when he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the training circle.

“Lucius, you can finish off the training for today. I have to see…to my wife.”

Your quarters are too far away, and you tell him so, letting him lead you to an underground alcove in the basilica nearby.

He kisses you until your back hits the cold stone wall and you can feel every inch of armor and cloth that separates your bodies.

His hands grip your face, thumbs pressing urgently into your skin as he kisses you until you’re lightheaded.

Few rays of sunlight pierce the recesses below and you’re bathed in a soft darkness, hidden, but with the sounds of the world going on right above you.

It reminds you that there are other people on this Earth beyond his kisses, his frantic hands, and the way he can’t seem to get you close enough.

Your armor becomes untied, and you reach under his, tugging at whatever you can find to loosen it. Cloth and linen floats to your feet and his fingers skim the curve of your waist, dipping between your legs.

“Fingers Marcus,” you gasp.

He swears, two fingers sliding deep.

Your hips rock into his hand and you hold onto his broad shoulders, on the edge of something that starts in your stomach and slips up along your spine.

You cry out, too loud and breathing so heavy you might pass out.

“I’m so close Marcus,” you whisper. “I want you inside me.”

His eyes lift from between your legs, and you take him in; messy curls, fallen over his damp forehead and sticking to it, his body shining with a light sheen of sweat and dust clinging to his skin.

You almost come at the sight of him. He feels you tighten around his fingers and pulls them free with another curse.

His knee parts your legs and you feel the head of his cock as it slides through you and you’re so wet that with just the smallest push forward he starts to slip inside.

With a grunt, he tucks his head into your neck, takes deep, steadying breaths.

“I need a moment,” he murmurs and holds your hips still.

He straightens, reaching a hand over your shoulder to brace it on the stone wall.

“You feel too good,” he whispers, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. “Too perfect.”

He builds a rhythm, hips rocking against yours, the sound of his armor thudding into yours as he fucks you.

His hand reaches up, holds your face as his thumb traces your lips, the taste of you lingering on his fingers.

“I want to watch you come,” he says, dark eyes moving across your face.

You wrap your arms around his neck, the muscles strained and tight with his restraint, pulling him harder to you.

“Say it,” he growls.

“I want it harder.”

His lips brush yours and he nibbles the lower one, tugging and then soothing with his tongue.

“And…?” he asks, knowing there’s more you want to say. More that you need.

“I want someone to hear us. I want them to know how good you feel.”

He grunts and grips your waist tightly before he starts slamming hard and slick into you.

Voices echo above, the sounds of feet and horse hooves growing louder.

“More Marcus,” you cry out.

You feel so full and stretched and the tight feeling in your stomach grows warmer and hotter until your head falls back against the stone, and you moan out his name as you come.

He follows right after, his movements becoming jagged and frantic before finally stilling with a muffled groan into your skin.

You lean into him, catching your breath and letting your fingers wander over the dips and curves of muscle in his back.

He lifts his head and immediately searches for your mouth, sealing his lips to yours.

When he pulls back his eyes are ablaze, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“What?” you ask, trembling when his fingertips skim along your collarbone, strong but gentle.

They ghost higher, to the hollow of your throat where your pulse beats wildly still, before closing lightly around your neck.

Your breath hitches.

“Was it the fighting that aroused you so?” he asks, pressing his thumb under your chin while he still holds your neck. “Or…?”

You swallow and lick your lips.

“You know what it was General,” you whisper.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s still inside you and he starts to thicken, the throb making your eyelashes flutter along your cheeks.

“You, General. It is you. Always you that fills me with an unquenchable need.”

“Then it is a good thing my hunger for you will never be sated,” he whispers as he begins to slowly rock his hips.

[mindless-existence1]

modern bf sukuna practically breathing down your neck when he sees someone else eyeing you at a party🧎‍♀️‍➡️

Authors note: Thanks for the request! This is gn reader and Sukuna and Reader are in college. This is slightly suggestive at the end and there's like one curse word.

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND!! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER!

In all honesty he didn't even want to go to the party, it was you who had begged him to go with you. He mostly went to play body gaurd against drunk college guys.

You were both standing near some friends of yours and you could feel Sukuna slowly moving closer, somehow, for the last five minutes. He had one arm around your waist and the other in his pocket.

Your friends went to the dance floor but you were too tired to go and Sukuna wouldn't dare go near it. "What's wrong babe?" You ask after taking a sip of your drink. Sukuna was no basically towering behind you. Both arms wrapped around your waist and his hands had a tight grip.

You hear him grumble a 'nothing' but can tell he's upset about something. "Are you not enjoying the party?" Your voice is lower than before, like it's something just for the two of you. He tsks and groans slightly, "I never enjoy parties." Is all he says while resting his chin on the top of your head.

"You really didn't have to come, you know that right 'kuna?" You turn slightly to face him a bit more and look up. "Of course I have to come, or else you'll have creeps like the one over there trying to take what's mine." His voice is low and has an undertone of anger bubbling up.

It's at this moment you look around the large room and find what looks to be a college fuck boy standing across the room. He's basically undressing you with his eyes.

He waves at you when you look over, his other hand preoccupied with a red solo cup. You hear Sukuna huff and you assume he's rolls his eyes before he puts his head in the nape of your neck.

Moving your head a bit to the side to accommodate his size you chuckle. He leaves kisses there that are slowly building in aggressiveness. "Don't understand how you like these kinds of things. Especially when you have people looking at you like a peice of meat." Sukuna mumbles between kisses.

"He's lucky I don't beat the shit out of him after this." That makes you laugh and lightly push at his forehead with your free hand. "I appreciate the gesture but we are in public right now 'kuna."

He groans but moves from your neck to instead give you a long hard kiss. It takes away all the air from your lungs as he lightly pushes you against the wall you were earlier leaning on.

"Lets leave yeah?" He asks, but it's more of a command then anything. All you can do is nodd your head and follow behind him when he grabs your hand and pulls you through the crowd.

[revelboo]

revel i really love how everything you wrote is connected to eachother in some way its actually so satisfying to read from the very first post and read from there! feels like seeing the bigger picture!

I try to connect the IDW fics or TFP fics to each other when possible, because it makes it more fun for me. This one is a bit earlier than intended, but the reblog tags for the last Jazz bit were killing me 😭

Over It Now Pt 9

IDW Jazz x Reader

• Tracking your passage through the house, his optics follow as lights come on, go out until you reach your bedroom and then the house is dark and silent, leaving him with his thoughts. With his oldest and truest companion, self loathing. Your anger spreading like poison through him as he walks to sit under that ancient pin oak in your yard near your window, head tipped back to look at the hints of stars through the leaves and trying to remember before the war. Back when his smile hadn’t been just a convenient mask to hide behind, he’d been a musician. A singer. He’d been happy then, but it’s been a long time since he was that bot. Sometimes it feels like the memory of a ghost, a life that couldn’t possibly be his. Optics shuttering behind his visor, he tries to picture the street, busy with Cybertronians going about their day. The weight of an instrument in his hands, servos dancing over chords.

• Furious with Jazz and yourself, you lay there in the dark and stare at the ceiling. Wondering why you let him get under your skin when you know the likely outcome. If everything is a game to him, then getting close or allowing him close is only going to hurt you in the end. You know that. So why does that crooked little smile keep slipping into your head? You’re angriest because of how you’d felt when he’d held you like that, safe, precious, like you mattered and it hadn’t been real. Because you’re dumb enough to play right into his little game. At first, the sound is so low you almost miss it. Something aside from the hum of the ceiling fan. Singing, the sound so achingly lonely even as the words mean nothing to you. Sliding out of bed, you limp to the window and peek out through the blinds, spotting the glow of Jazz’s visor beneath the tree, his biolights faintly limning his frame. He’s making that bittersweet sound and even if you don’t understand the language, it’s so full of yearning that it hurts.

• It’s not the sort of songs he’d sang on the streets of Iacon or Praxus, something new. Pouring all the poison in him out into the quiet night, all the things he can’t say out loud. The hurt, the loneliness, and the need for someone to see him, to see past the shiny, smiling veneer and realize that no, he’s not okay. Hasn’t been for a long time. The song sinks its claws into him, a stream of longing and grief, every word a new chain pulling him down with their weight. Because no one really sees him. They never have. Their needs forging him into this so he can do what needs to be done. No matter the cost. A good little spy smiling instead of screaming. The touch of a little hand on his ped breaks him from the song, voice faltering. And you’re right there, head down. Crying as you lean on your crutches, crying for him because he can’t and no one else will.

• You can’t stop crying, because that song is a living thing twisting inside you, all sweetness and barbed wire. This is something real, not a lie and it hurts more than a song should. Then he’s leaning forward, a servo tipping your chin up and then sliding over your cheek. “Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says voice low, big hand outstretched like he wants to pick you up, pull you into him again. But hesitating. And you grab onto his servos, letting your crutches fall as he catches you, lifts you to cradle against him, big hands tucking your little frame against the warm mesh of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to do this anymore.” Pressing your face against him, you’re not sure what he means by that. Maybe not lying. Maybe being real. But maybe you can help him figure it out.

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[scoutswritingcorner]

Burning The Midnight Oil

Alastor x GN! Reader

A/N: Pspspspsps Alastor lovers come get some food. Could be seen as platonic or romantic.

TW: None

Alastor hummed as he walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, he had just finished his latest midnight broadcast when his shadow alerted him to someone in the kitchen. As he got closer he noticed dim lights from the doorway and the smell of something delicious as well as some soft jazz that made his ever lasting smile grow a little softer.

As he walked into the kitchen he noticed how candles were lit around the room but carefully placed to not truly cast any light into the hallway. His eyes were now casted on you, back turned to him as you mixed ingredients together in a bowl. Now what was his Darling doing up at this late hour? He pondered to himself as he lifted his hand up and gently rapped his knuckles onto the door frame to get your attention, “Burning the midnight oil I see.” He commented as you turned his way, a smile gracing your lips. Oh how he down right adored that smile, it made his undead heart beat just a little.

“I..uh..yes, I couldn’t sleep..” You explained turning back to the stove and carefully placing a skillet on top of the burner, not yet turning it on. Alastor walked closer, placing his cane up against the wall as he hummed along to the tune on the radio, “Now what are you making, Darling?” he asked, reaching over to pull up your sleeve that threatened to fall down tapping his foot to the tune. “Oh uh..Crepes! I found a recipe book earlier today and wanted to try some out..would you like to join me?” You smiled up at him before your focus was back onto the recipe you had written down on paper beforehand. He smiled softly watching as you excused yourself to rush around him cleaning up any mess and setting the batter aside to allow it to rest for a few moments as the instructions said to do.

“Crepes?” He hummed out watching as you turned to him, happily giving him all your attention. Oh, how he ate that attention up. “I would love to join, Dearest.” He said as his tail happily wagged underneath his coat but before he could say something else he watched you hold your hands out to him, “Dance with me while I wait for the batter to rest?” You asked, you always gave him the chance to back out if he was uncomfortable with something. You always asked even if you didn’t outright say anything, how your hand lingered near him in a silent question. That’s one of the main reasons he adored you so.

His everlasting grin dropped to a soft smile as he happily placed his hands into yours, “Of course, Darling.” He purred out, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles before allowing you to get situated closer to him. He started to sway with you to the music, watching as you rested your head against his chest, humming along to the next tune that played on the old radio.

The swaying slowly turned into him carefully waltzing around the room with you, happily spinning you away before pulling you back and dipping you into the candle light. Your laughter echoing through the empty halls of the hotel, as the music slowly turned louder and his shadow danced across the kitchen walls. 

You forgot all about cooking the crepes that night. But that was okay, you could always make more if you wanted.

[cutieeva]

Addicted

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞

Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Brainwashing. Sexual assault. Mention of murders. Dubious consent. Detail sex. Blackmailing. Power abuse. Toxic relationship. Cheating. Home Invasion. Stalking.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 死神 ❜ Meeting Light yagami was a mere coincidence yet the several meetings again and again doesn't seem to be anymore because the more (Y/N) observe the more she realize how fake he is yet she fail to be aware of his twisted desires held for her

To be cousin of Misa is difficult could be understatement because it is much more than that, it's heart-wrenching, gulit, frustration and more complex emotions are mixed because watching her sister even if cousin sister break down into (Y/N)'s arms wailing to be back to her passed away parents is heart-wrenching.

Guilt due to the helpless (Y/N) felt for hopelessly comforting her with words that are lies and even have difficulty to be happy with her alive parents in front of her as if she is taunting her sister.

Frustration on her sister's newfound obsession with the serial killer Kira who's praises of anti-hero could be sang at the same time hatred was there for taking law on their own hands. No, (Y/N) isn't saint to think what the kira is doing completely wrong rather her opinion dances between supporting their way of cleaning filth yet hating how they do as they want which was prove by killing the false detective life simply case he hurt the killer's ego. Also a newfound emotion has planted within her manifesting to grow larger and larger which is : fear. Fear for the safety of her sister's alarming love for the Kira just cause they did a good deed of killing her parent's culprit. Fear of her sister ruining her life just to meet the said killer or being taken advantage of bad people in name of Kira.

However expect her surprise when she met Yagami Light, the most intelligent boy she shared her school with came to her house with her sister introducing to be her boyfriend standing beside Misa who squealing quietly just the same way (Y/N) notice whenever Kira's name is mention.

"How odd". She was beyond confuse of how Light was able to peel her obsession with the Kira because as much as she knows he is the epitome of justice even being the son of Yagami Soichiro, the leading head policer of ongoing Kira case. "They are vastly different. How come she is romantically involved with such man despite fangirling over a serial killer ?" She remembers meeting the boy due to the unusual events of that day.

"I am bored". (Y/N) thought with a sigh, unable to hear the boring theories of the professor are uttering as her (E/C) eyes gaze over the window she was sitting near when a quite grasp left her lips seeing a black notebook written something over it fell from the blue sky. "What the ?" Unable to comprehend she decided as soon as the class ended she would surely go outside to touch the notebook for at least to check.

Bell ring indicating finished last period made her quick to be at her feet holding her small black bag and run through the hallway. "These are the advantage of not having friends". She chuckle finally drumming over the dust and in front of the very same black book she saw earlier. "Death note". She read out loud about to touch when her sight saw someone else's palm hold the mysterious notebook as she look up meeting beautiful bronze eyes belonged to Light, her classmate.

"Is that yours ?" She asked pointing her finger to the notebook.

"Oh ! Of course not. Rather I saw it from the distance while walking outside the gate and thought to pick it up and deliver to the police station". He elaborate smiling gently as she always saw him in front of his friends, professors and each person alike.

"Oh".

"Well, seeing you ask me if it's mine automatically prove it's not yours right ?" (Y/N) shook her head, smiling nervously.

"Okay, then please submit the notebook to the police station for it's rightful owner to claim. I will take my leave". Feeling awkward and having nothing more to converse she decided to leave and finding his nod as a permission she left. Unaware he stayed until her figure disappeared.

"(L/N) ? Right ?" Light's voice ripped her from the clouded thoughts to find the boy sitting in front her, on the desk chair Misa uses.

"Uh, yes". (Y/N) nod, straighting her wrinkled clothes to appear at least presentable when seconds ago she was in mist of drawing a art that occupied her mind when the door burst open revealing cheerful Misa with her least expected classmate.

"Is her aunt your mother ? Judging from the different surnames". He asked further taking a look at her from head to toe discreetly as she sat on her bed.

"Yup ! She looks nothing like the lovesick girl". Ryuk pointed out Light's thoughts.

"Yes. My father is foreigner from (C/N) while mother is Japanese so you could say I am half Japanese". She smiled, still having doubts of their relationship. "So, could you say how you two met ? You know, love story ?" Misa laughed sitting beside her and linking their arms together.

"Well, it was love at fight sight for me". The blond girl shamelessly unraveled looking at her love, her savior, her lover ignoring the fact their relationship is an play. "I was in awe how a man could be both handsome and intelligent so I persistently tailed behind him until he couldn't deny me". Lies spewed her lips so smoothly (Y/N) belived while Light holding the urge to roll his eyes knowing they rehearsal the script beforehand.

"And when we were in relationship he slowly fell for me and I fell more". (Y/N) doubts were beginning to waver and smile soften spotting her cousin's eyes adoring cupid heart and her lips coated with sweet nothings.

"She loves him". Hearing each and every word from her lips speaking proved that, failing to noticing her single moves are observed and calculated by a certain brown head boy. Light from his correct understanding has known the classmate he clearly recall from their first meeting from finding the death note and discovering she is her cousin who has soft spot for Misa could be useful in upcoming events just like the another foolish shinigami, Rem but hopefully she doesn't become a thorn in his way otherwise he must pitifully execute her like the rest.

"Misa, can you bring some snacks from downstairs ? I am hungry". Light narrowed his eyes at the sudden request. "Also Yagami-san, would you like to have some too ?" He nod smiling a little.

"Okay ! Wait for me and oneesan do not try to talk behind my back ! Do you understand". The girl warned walking away giving her a playful glare earning a chuckle from (Y/N) that made Light stare at her.

"She look nothing like Misa nor is her behavior". Light had heard her name from Misa before meeting today yet fault due to not paying attention he couldn't recall her until he came inside the room meeting an familiar face from their few days intractions washing away all the expectation he had of how more irritating her sister could be. "She is gullible enough". He thought.

"So, Yagami-san, do you love her ?" The question was expected since he had re-think multiple questions to begin with. Smiling the perfect facade he replied in beat "Of course".

"And what is the points you like about her ?" (Y/N) watched his perfect facade carefully where he crafted to smile nervously and fidgets his fingers when in reality he is getting annoyed by her piling questions. She is annoying.

"I, like her everything. From her way of dressing to the way she cheerfully talks to her way of handling people and most importantly the fact she is so brave even after her parents has left the world. She is still hanging strongly as ever". The girl's smile dimmed at the mention of her dearest relatives death yet she paid attention to the sincerity unaware of the fact he made just for her to see.

"So, she shared her parent's death with you ?"

"Yes". No. It was the first reason she is attached to his hip. A nuisance death what he thinks.

"If she shared such vital topic that must mean she trust you enough". (Y/N) sigh, looking at his eyes. "Then you must also know her obsession with Kira ?" His muscles tense but he kept the act of nodding.

"Indeed. It was in the first weeks of our relationship I got to know her unhealthy obsession with the serial killer". A bitter taste left by the negative word he used at last.

"What do you think about Kira ?" Now, he won't lie about this question coming expected but that doesn't mean he can't speak the right words in set. The words she might want to hear.

"I will be honest with you". His serious bronze eyes stare at her. "My own moral compass is little bend. Still that doesn't mean what they does is correct instead they only acts upon what they deems is correct and that thinking itself is terrifying and must be put stop to it". Hearing such words from a boy who's son of a national police agency and multiple times announced to the teachers of his dream of becoming one along observed his visible hatred towards criminals should have felt right but why does it feel so wrong ? Her raw human instinct is settling anything but safe and good. All the words sounds distant and wrong.

"Yagami-san, please tell me your real opinion not the one you would tell to hide your real ones". Breaking the silence she didn't know was there flicker her eyes deeply into his. He merely look down and back up with a soft chuckle disregarding Ryuk's raspy laugh.

"Smart girl". He jollily commented already being entertained.

"I guess I was caught". His eyes lifted with his lips. "Okay, I do support Kira's actions of killing criminals but I do not support their killings against innocent civilians because I think the innocents do not deserve such way of death to heaven". Light appeared to be shameful of his way of thinking when in contrast his fingers were itching to write her name on the death note and erase her existence from the earth. She is getting inside his skin. The second person to thoroughly caught his lies aside from the mysterious detective L.

(Y/N) eyes dart at the door hearing the upcoming footsteps of her sister to her classmate. "I understand". She did. Understood her intitution was right about the white lie he spoke moments earlier.

"But could you also share your opinion". Light oddly enough desire to know her thoughts for the sake of knowing her better. Or so he claim.

"Umm...nothing simply than the fact I have observed the person has fragile ego proven the moment he killed the fake detective just cause he was provoked such an impulsive decision". The brown head boy's eyes twitch at that sentences.

"That was good". Ryuk full on indulging the second person who doesn't fall for his facade easily and insult so bluntly at the same time could be the fast reason of her own demise he pitefully felt bad.

"Also I notice how the name Kira means killer at the same time shining in Japanese if I am correct then it must mean if the killer themselves liked to called killer in more fashionable way that proves they are aware they are nothing more than a killer but judging from the past killing of both the fake detective and police officers it seems the killer has forgetting it's identity and wants to be some sort of justice hero". She finished titling his head.

"I like her". The god of death openly admit his favoritism wanting more to see what becomes of her in the near future. Hopefully she survives after this situation for his want of fun. However Light doesn't share the mutual feeling. His lips part to say when Misa barged in holding plate of delicates and snacks.

"Have bites". Little to no noises were made placing the plate on top of the little table.

"Thank you". (Y/N) took one bite into the cookies before diving into what he was suppose to say if Misa didn't came so abruptly little did she know the blonde girl was standing behind the door since the topic came what he likes about her by successfully fluttering her heart and leak hundred butterflies inside her stomach.

For Light after eating and talking some meaningless strings of sentences he care not to remember only seeing red by the moment those words this bitch utter immediately put an natural end to their meeting, waves their hands goodbye, somehow got rid of the another bitch, Misa. He so restelessly want to strangle her neck to the point he could see life fade from her eyes, pale body fall limp for eternal. Once he got home excusing himself with a strained smile and fake soften eyes to his mother and sister.

In no seconds the death notebook was laid open and a pen fist between his fingers tightly about to write her name that no one would stop him expect "I have observed the person has fragile ego proven the moment he killed the fake detective just cause he was provoked such an impulsive decision". It flashes across his eyes itself pausing his movements.

"Ha !" He mockly laughed. Laughed more and more and more and more that it scared the shinigami watching how wicked the laugh turned to his eyes pure evil red. "If she thinks of death was an implusive choice I made then how about I taste her hell ?" He smirk planning to get closer to know about her in order to completely destroy her.

The following day of her colliding with Light Yagami at the school gate to return home was again awkward but this time for the reasons he was romantically involved with her cousin, she still has suspicious about due to all her gut feeling screaming the boy dangrous. A danger.

"Would you like to walk home together ?" He suggested wearing his usual charming smile.

"So direct ?" The god of death snicker.

"Okay". Well, no excuse she has to decline his kind offer other than the fact her house is at different direction from his. Soon she find herself walking with the least expected boy she often seen and came face to face once in a while. The walk itself was silent surrounded by comfortable noises like their walking foosteps, few cars driving, birds chirping on their nest over the tree.

"Why did you invite me for a walk ? We aren't so close enough yet". Her quite voice break the train of thoughts of Light who for the first time after getting hands on the death note has been in peace.

"To get to know you better". (Y/N) was taken aback, flicker to his eyes to find them already intensity watching her. She flinched. He noticed.

"Oh". Quickly her gaze turned away only to fall on top of a cute cafe she has been eyeing for a long time which Light has notice too.

"Want to go inside ?" She glance to check his expression where he smiles and she nods going inside together. Few people were seated and she chose the closest seat to the window. He sat opposite of her. "This cafe is nice". He compliment watching her nod carelessly and look around the cafe. "Seem to be the first time of her".

"Welcome to Cutieeva Cafe, here is the menu for you to order and please press the bell to call an waitress or waiter". A woman wearing her black mix white cloth elaborate smiling ear to ear and place two menu on their table.

"Thank you". (Y/N) thanked her taking one between the two menu to check what she would be ordering to end up with Katsu sandwitch, manju and iced matcha latte while Light ordered egg salad sandwich and iced coffee with milk.

They waited in the same silence boring the god of death.

"Didn't you said you would talk to her ? If you don't talk then how would you know her weakness ?" Ryuk crossed his legs and sat floating in the air with hand under his cheek knowing how the male human ignored him.

"I will charge apples for this boredom". Light tune out the whining of the supernatural creature focusing on the girl in front of him who never ready to met his gaze if not necessary he even remembers being baffled in their first encounter how she run away unlike others he has came across his life to be talking to him in any possible way or reason. The food plate were served and the moment his requested food entered his mouth did he felt the disgust raising. "It's a trash". However he didn't let the negativity express over his face, glancing over to (Y/N) who ate just fine. To ease the disfavour he drank his drink "They didn't add milk and it's bitter". His lips threat to twitch.

"You shouldn't force to eat something you dislike". Light froze. His mind for a second was blank and non-calculative words blurt out.

"What do you mean ?" He stare into those (E/C) he found yesterday night in his dreams.

"The way you only bite some of your food and immediately turned to drink then look at your food makes me think you might not like your order. Maybe I am wrong but I simply want you to know that you shouldn't force yourself to like something for the sake of others". If before he wasn't intrigued then he certainly is now.

"And what would happen if I force myself ?" The words escape eager then he wanted. Looking forward to her next sentence, looking towards to her next expression, to their next eyes met.

"If you do, it will only hurt your own self that might later be forgetton if you are so used to the mask". (Y/N) utter not confident anymore feeling her unspoken secrets exposed by the words she speak from her personal experience. Feeling his burning gaze yet stick to looking at her meal.

"Sounds like an personal experience to me". Click ! His brozon eyes gleefully when she looked at him. At his eyes. Only at him.

"Ah ! What a interesting turns of events". Ryuk observed each little things. Feeling tension built just like his entertainment settling.

"Because it indeed is". (Y/N) look away turning his gleeful to a frown. The first slip up of his expression he is happy to be not caught.

"Could you share with me ? Because sometimes sharing helps to ease the burden". His eyes soften along his voice quiter. After all he would hate to let others know about something that meant only for his ears to heard or else too bad he has know each their names and wipe their existence with the power he have as an new god of the world.

"I—" (Y/N) suck breath. "I think I— will take my leave now". Quickly without checking at the other she took her bag, place her order of payment and left hurried failing to notice his hand in air with the intent to grip her wrist and stood up from his seat watching her back becoming smaller and smaller and smaller. All her mind had filled with her dull past of her friends smiling in front of her but sneering and spatting lies behind her back, preventing others students of befriending her, isolating her before comforting her with web of deceit how others are cruel and mockingly laughing at her face when in dispair she learnt the truth. Even stealing her right of cutting her ties with them instead the trio announced of leaving such a pathetic person as (Y/N) herself when she asked the reason behind such cruelty were offered because "It was fun". A measly toy she was to them when to her they were her friends, her non-blood family.

It left a scare to never able to look at other people with the same pure faith she had on people. Refusing to believe be rewarded by good people and doubting each mutters coming out of their tongues. Paying more attention of their behavior after all what the bitterness of betrayal is given by an alley not an enemy that's the first reason she notice Light's off putting behaviors.

Meanwhile Light was left clenching his jaw and fury rush in his head to whisk away all the plates from the table, lash out his boiling anger. How could she left him ? All alone and not even sharing her past when she talks as if she knows him.

"Someone's angry". Ryuk stood up on his feet, lacing his arms behind his head in an laid-back position in contrast of the human's emotions piling. The death note user held back to glare at the hideous creature he deems and walk to the counter paying both of their order and taking her money on his palm. Touching the corners that her fingers have touched. He gently smiled walking out of the horrible choice of cafe to his house letting his head cool by the breeze kissing his face away and eyes on guard for any followers. This realization made his eyes slightly wide at how dangerous loosen his guard was staying with (Y/N) not care of the world, his world, his concerns.

His sole focus on her locked world he seem to unable to step inside unlike countless others he has done. Within seconds to days his result was the same. Victory but with her he tasted not only failure yet desire too. The desire to be seen, to be known. As much as he despite of someone knowing his true self to exploit or use for their own gain like Misa or expose him as Kisa like the annoying detective L. She is different, she wants to know him, she seen right though him, his unspoken flaws to perfections without a hint of scorch. She sees him for who he is and tell him to embrace it even if it means risking her life by sharing her nagative thoughts. Giggy feeling spread like vines over his body, dipping into his flesh to find it's way to his heart. Just imagining how she would react of him being the Kira, her cousin is obsessed with and the real reason she is with him already makes him yearn for her. Want to see her, see how more these measly feelings could grow ? But if it becomes a obstacle then he must cut the root of it all. Nothing would stop him from becoming the god.

Then how ? How come every single day from the day on he set up accidentally meetings with (Y/N), making time to be with her rather than his usual duty of writing criminal names on his death note to create a better place, be with her than Kira most of the time even going as far as to disguise Misa as a way of entering an certain (H/C)'s head girl house little by little. He simply can't seem to stop this twisted pleasure of inserting himself on the picture life beside (Y/N) without any filth or that bitch inside.

The longer he spends time, the longer those feelings distinct where the god of death teases him when the girl of his wet dreams arrive and she is getting clever with her excuses better than the precious one but how adorable ? When the one being lied is the master of lies himself. He has impressively maintaining the almost perfect double life as a student and the infamous Kira that lies from small to big holds no surprise to him anymore. So, albeit knowing her little amusing lies his patient, one of his strong suit has been helping the thread from being cut off however he is growing impatient. Astonishing him and proving his desire for her was greatly underestimated and that strong suit of his apparently doesn't work related to (Y/N) who is passing day, week is scared for her life.

She might be little oblivious— but not blind to his increasingly uncomfortable advances towards her about inviting her to his home when his parents are out, touching her at every chance he gets, leaning closer than a boy having girlfriend should be, whispering into her ear, creating one-sided plan without Misa, tried holding her hands—claiming it's for her safety from strange men attacking her. Ironic ? when he himself is no better than the 'strange men' he described. Perhaps more dangerous he was because the dreadful day arrived. The day where their pretense of nothing happening is ruined. The say where his patient put to an end along his desire begin to woven the fate of their to seal together. Branding (Y/N) his.

"Good thing I ran out of the class when he was called out by the teacher". She sighed of relief finding no sight of an certain brown head behind her. For some strange reasons the deity might want to punish her or else why the accidental meetings with him keep occurring ? Or "This is a set up ?" No, what would he want from her ? Surely he isn't thinking of cheating on Misa— no. (Y/N) shook her head from digging into the topic far too liking from her.

Ultimately without any difficulties she calmly reached her house, stretching her arms and walking upstairs to her room when her eyes went to Misa's room and memories of her moving to their house after her parents death flooded to how late at night whimpering, wailing could be came from her room and (Y/N) helplessly call her parents to help Misa. Only if her parents weren't killed, if only her cousin lived happily, only if Kira didn't exist, only if she didn't developed unhealthy obsession then perhaps Light wouldn't be able to came into her sister life and have the chance to cheat on her. "No, no. I am again imagining things. He wouldn't cheat on her".

Quickly her toes step upwards to her roon and her fingers touch the cold doorknob only to twist and open it with a creaking noise and the straps of her bag fell with a thud on the ground while her eyes remained on the ground. "I need a shower". She closed the door behind her and about to head her attached bathroom when her (E/C) eyes met his rather red alike ruby eyes fondly.

Light sat on her bed flipping her art pages. "W-what ? A-are you doing ?" He silently spin a key around his finger. Not any key but a key to their house.

"Gifted by Misa". His gently voice revealed however the girl oppose of him felt her head spinning, rounding around her head, heart pumping in fear.

Fear.

Terror.

Disgust.

All the negative emotions she ever felt was surfacing over her face Light could see, he was like an magician reading her thoughts, her emotions, her fears and he would surely use them. Make them his weapon.

"This is disgusting". (Y/N) with a sneer about to run out—

"Do you not fear for Misa's life ?" Her all actions stop in air. Breathing escalated, hard to inhale, hard to feel, hard to express.

"What do you mean ?" She turn to face the man she thought could be trustworthy for Misa. "What do you mean ?" She yelled louder for him to reply her yet all he offered was a wordless smile. A smile nothing alike an polite gentleman instead a victory smile, a smile only those offer when they know all the power of the pawns on a chessboard are on their palms and she was a pawn destined be to at his control. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ?" She cried, run towards him and yunk his white collar.

"She is your lover ! How could you threat her life ?" How could he ? How dare he ? How heartless he has to be not caring about others ? Especially of his loved ones, the ones who would do anything for him, sacrifice for him, fight for him, be with him. Tears well in her eyes merely imagining Misa's perished body in front of her.

"If you dare to touch my family I will kill you". (Y/N) threaten, fisting onto his thin cloth. A family is what Misa is to her. A sister. A cousin she will do any limits of protect. Even if it means killing hi—

"Even if it means sacrificing yourself ?"

"What ?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I never liked her let alone romantically viewed her. She is nothing but a nuisance, a thone, a mistake, a pest in my life. I never wanted her. She did and forced me". (Y/N) refuse to believe the words coming out of his filthy lips. "The one I want is you. I desire you". He breathless confessed his hidden want. Leaning over her face while her grip on his collar crumble, she lean away astonished.

"No. You don't". She step back gazing at his yearning eyes, cleared bronze eyes held reflection of her, just like his mind filled with her, his heart filled with her. His larger hand grip her wrist from stepping away any further than she already was in the past days. Another hand circle around her waist pulling closer.

"Don't leave me. You must be mine. You should be mine". He mutter leaning his head to her heart, ear pressed to the racing heart, pulses of her veins and his right hand intertwined with hers like their lives were now. "You are the only one who truly understood me. Seen me how I am. Never forced me. Criticized me, always bluntly told my flaws to my perfections. You are someone to be my queen. To be mine entirely and eternally". He closed his eyes pressing against her chest— to her heart racing because of him. Her breathing halted because of him. Her pulse rushing because of him. Everything she feels because of him. He is equally in her roots just like she was in his.

(Y/N) slowly looked at him to find his eye lids opening and all she found was madness, chaos, desire and her reflection. From the moment they met her intitution already announced him danger, bad news and fake. But she brush it off, ignoring the voices within her mind pointing how intensely he looked at her. How he behaved with her but she pretend to be unaware, run away from the reality that something was off with him all for the sake of her sister's happiness attached to this man yet it lead nothing else than her own downhill.

Before she realize the danger surrounded her, it was too late. She was caged. In his palm as a pawn of desires and caged in his arms. "Be with me and Misa will be alright. Be my queen and no harm with be done. My love, you don't know what can I do to disappear a person". Her knees gave up only for Light to hold her. "Do not worry. I am here. Give yourself to me and everything will be alright".

With a thud her back touch her once safety of a bed along the destroyer of her life, the killer of her soul, the ruiner of her body above her. His intelligent gaze replaced with full of lust. Adulation adoration "What would you do if I don't obey you ?"

"Kill Misa and I promise I will get away with it". Light honestly revealed, he has already plan to get rid of the good for nothing god of death, Rem with Misa. The only reason she wasn't dead to his inconvenience of the Rem but to own (Y/N) he will make it possible and crowned her his queen.

School white shirt disregarded baring her upper skin and her breast under the bra. Hungry eyes drank at the sun ray's kissed (S/C) skin. A divine present she is to him. The perfect love of his life. Insteadly he pressed his lips to hers earning a groan from himself due to how good it felt. Her lips were smooth, soft featherly and creamy like the pastries he likes. His tongue invade hers, tasting her tongue, twisting them together and sucking her, taking all her sweetness to himself, blending their saliva together and moving in rhythm of their love song ignoring how she remained unwavered.

When air became a need, a way to breath he decided to separate his lips from her leaving a lace of sliver saliva thread onto their lips— an evidence of his passionate kiss. He smirk finding her (S/C) cheeks decorated with crimson hue, lips gleaming his saliva and tears build on those hatred eyes.

Light insteadly latch Into her skin, curious if her body taste as sweet her lips does and he wasn't disappointed sucking her chin, neck, collarbone banding her his with the butterflies kisses and purple hickeys. However only whimpers, choked tears were tuning his ears unlike the music of moans he was awaiting. How could she ? Contrast to he was in heaven, the hell was brought for her on earth. Torturing her with those burning hands, soul-sucking kisses and purple scars on her body. The ruiner of her ripped the bra she used as an shield presenting her vulnerable and helpless.

Her breath hitched and eyes shut feeling wet lips coating her buds and he indulge his fantasy of his sleepless night come true even better beyond his tricks of imagination. He lovely bite and circle the buds with his tongue to earn any sweet noise from (Y/N)'s pretty lips. Showering devotion to their love making. "She is so perfect". Her head to toe was a goddess in a human's body. All of her flaws and hatred he viewed in her turned into rose tinted glass. Quickly those purple and blue bruises painted over her breast and his other hand kneading her breast as he continue to mark her down and down until his eyes sparkle with excitement and hers with terror.

He slowly dragged her cloth all together letting harsh breeze touch her second most private part which he delightfully touched. "So delicious it looks. All for me to have". Blood painfully rush to his own private part palming her small sex and lean his mouth inside the flesh. Finally the held tears of her roll down, crying at her cruel deity. At the cruel fate written for her. "Please help. Somebody, anybody help". How sad. Pitifully she quiver under Light who was enjoying the taste of her, the liquid she made from, created into.

"I can't". Crazed blood rush into his mind that he no longer take his slow time to worship his queen within a blink of an eye his own lower pants gone and without preparation, without protection he slammed his cock into her virgin flesh filling himself tight around her walls. "How sweet. All your first is me and I will make sure your last is me too". He bite his lips, gripping her naked thighs hard that she felt her bones would break.

"But my soul is broken". She screamed her pain of being raped. Agony of taking his part into her pussy so suddenly and forcefully. It hurts. It hurts more when he moved inside her, thrust again and again. Brim of bile threat to pour out of her throat as he continue to pleasure himself using her body— no a body belongs to him.

"So good, love. You are the sweetest. The most divine queen you will be". He chuckle thrusting faster. In mind to impregnate her. Yes, he will make sure to lock the shackle around her ankle well and the lock will be their sweet child which she soon realize when his hips slowed and strings of white liquid was released inside her womb.

"No. No. No. No. No. No". (Y/N) screamed at his face, red from anger. "I will kill this child if it grew". But all he did was lean and kiss her lips.

"Then I will kill Misa, your family and each person you come to care one by one". He shuss her by kissing her adorable protest only he can heard and see not even that Ryuk who is not here from the beginning busy devouring his addicted apples.

Just like he is slave to his (Y/N) "I am—". He kiss her. "Addicted".

FIN

[applepie-enthusiast]

imagine prom night in a high school modern setting

giyuu sits on a corner near the table with the food, alone as his classmates are either hanging out and having fun with their friends OR dancing

tengen and shinobu harmlessly joking about a making a bet whether someone would ask giyuu to dance or not. others join in, and sanemi overhears it. he doesn't join but he doesn't stop them either, just casually glancing at giyuu who seems to be thinking deeply about something.

if he were his younger self a few months ago, he would totally join in with the bet, but now, he's having second thoughts, especially when he had spent a significant amount of time getting to know giyuu due to being paired with him on various projects... as a dare by his friends too.

now, overhearing more about the bet, he can't help but feel slightly pissed off. he cursed at his own hypocrisy, but he figured he wanted to do something for tomioka this time.

just as he already made up his mind to ask giyuu for a dance, he was slightly caught off guard to see someone else already asking giyuu to dance.

It was none other than sabito, giyuu's childhood friend.

"giyuu, may I have this dance?"

sanemi didn't quite hear it clearly due to the distance and the music playing throughout the venue, but he saw how sabito's lips moved, and the hateful way in which tomioka's eyes lit up immediately after. thereafter giyuu flashed a gentle smile towards sabito.

sanemi felt an unusual tight feeling in his heart at how it wasn't directed at him.

he heard his friends mumble incoherently, probably talking about tomioka and his bestfriend.

but sanemi didn't care about his friends now, he didn't even know what was running in his mind when his legs moved on its own and he rushed in front of giyuu, making sure to bump his shoulder with sabito, who gave him an unreadable look.

"actually," sanemi cut in, "he's with me since earlier."

sabito snorted, earning him a glare from sanemi.

"funny you'd say that," sabito paused, taking giyuu's hand on his, making the latter follow and stand beside him.

"when you and your friends have been hanging out, completely ignoring giyuu for as long as I can remember today."

sabito wraps his arms around giyuu's waist, the latter making a confused look, oblivious to the tension building up.

"not so manly of you, huh?" sabito threw a look on sanemi's way, making sure to send a condescending smirk not long after.

[star-wrote]

After Midnight

Characters: Stanford!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: The club lights make the mysterious stranger at the bar look even more kissable.

Warnings: drinking, cussing, a mean guy at the bar, dancing, making out, a little suggestive but no smut

A/N: just a short lil writing piece based on the song “after midnight” by chappell roan <3 written by someone who has never been to a club or had alcohol LOL.

Word Count: 1.1k ish

(divider from @strangergraphics )

The DJ at the club was spinning some track from the 90’s when you and your friends finally got through the long line. It had been cold outside; with winter break just around the corner, so it wasn’t the most comfortable to wait in your short dress. Luckily, the body heat from the people dancing in the club warmed you right up (and the shot of tequila that you had just drank).

Your friends had gone off onto the dance floor, leaving you standing at the crowded bar, waiting for another drink. There were many people around you, all of them shouting their orders at the poor bartender, except for one man. He seemed out of place standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his brown hair framing his face. He was wearing a frown, seemingly displeased with the situation in front of him.

You wanted to kiss the frown right off his face. But maybe that was the alcohol talking.

The burst of courage that came with that one shot of tequila made you approach the stranger.

“Hey, are you waiting on a drink too?” You said while standing next to him, pretending to also watch the scene at the bar.

He glanced over at you and raised an eyebrow in what looked like surprise at you talking to him. “Uh, no. I was going to ask but the bartender looks overwhelmed.”

You nodded, smiling slightly at the sympathy he seemed to have that the other club-goers lacked. “Yeah, they’re being pretty rude tonight.”

“I guess finals make everyone desperate for alcohol,” the man says with a chuckle.

The frantic bartender called your name and slammed your drink down at the bar. While you were walking up to get it, another customer quickly looked around and grabbed your drink. When he turned around to snake off into the shadows with it, he was met with you holding a hand out for your drink.

“Thanks for grabbing that for me!” You quip while reaching to grab the glass in the thief’s hand.

He pulls the drink away. “No, this shit’s mine.”

“I’m pretty sure we don’t share the same name, Brian.” You point to where his name tag printed his name clearly across his chest.

“Look princess, I’ve had a long day at work and I just wanted a free drink, okay?” He rolls his eyes at you.

Suddenly, the cute boy from earlier walks up behind you and nods in greeting at Brian. You couldn’t help but notice how much taller he was in comparison.

“You want a drink? Wait in line like everyone else, man.”

Brian stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel his breath on your face. “Make me.”

Out of instinct, you pushed up on the full glass, spilling the drink all over him.

The brown haired boy quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you away as Brian sputtered. He saw you grinning in achievement at the man and laughed. “C’mon, let’s not start a bar fight.”

He led you to a table near the corner of the room, where the music was quieter and the lights were dimmer.

“Oh my god, did you see that!” You giggle as he lets go of your hand and sits down in the booth.

His smile didn’t leave his face as he says, “I’m just surprised that you dumped your own drink on the guy.”

“Well, he was being a dick,” you shrug.

He nods while smiling and looks down at the table. A beat of silence passes before he looks back up at you.

“You have a pretty name, you know. I heard the bartender say it.”

It was your turn to smile and look down at the table where your finger was picking at the chipped paint. “Well that’s not fair!”

He tilted his head in questioning, his smile still ever present on his face.

You look back at him and continue. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours! Even after we’ve gone on an adventure together.”

He chuckles. “I’m Sam. And I’m sure I could take you on way better adventures.”

“Is that an offer to go on a date, Sam?” You wink at him, the low pink lighting making you feel flirty.

The beat changes into one that you recognize as your favorite upbeat song, and you perk up.

Sam must’ve noticed because he says, “Right now, it’s an offer to go to the dance floor with me.”

You and him stand up, grab each other’s hands, and worm your way through the sea of people on the dance floor. He stops in the middle, right under the disco ball, and spins you. You two spend the rest of the song dancing together.

The song ended and a slower song filled the void. Sam’s warm hands immediately find your hips as you start to sway together. It must’ve been after midnight, because you started to feel like you were falling in love. But by the look on Sam’s face, he must’ve been feeling it too.

“Can I kiss you?” You suddenly blurted out.

Instead of responding, he leaned down and met your lips with his own in a sweet kiss. The DJ switched to a more sensual song as the slow dance faded out. Sam deepened the kiss as you sighed into his mouth.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand, leading him back to your cozy corner. You guided him to sit on the booth and you straddled his lap. He only had a look of surprise on his face for a second before he brought his hands up to your cheeks and pulled you into a kiss. You bit on his bottom lip and he let out a grunt and a breath of air out his nose. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction.

He pulled your head away to allow you both to breathe. You leaned your foreheads against each other. He saw that your dress had ridden up, so he pulled it back down to your upper thighs for you. You breathe out a “thanks.”

“I’m not sure we can continue in public without getting arrested,” he says. He gets a shy look on his face. “You wanna go back to my place?”

You stop and think for the first time that night. You had been too good this semester. You got good grades on all of your finals, and the cutest boy alive was asking you to go back to his place. You could afford to be not so good for one night.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his lips before getting back on your feet. “Sure.”

Everything good happens after midnight.

[seullovesme]

slow dancing in the dark » bae irene

pairing ⥬ joohyun x reader

genre ⥬ angst (fluff + smut)

summary ⥬ on her date, joohyun comes to the realization that there's nobody that she wants other than you. hopefully, she's not too late.

warnings ⥬ dom reader, sub irene, oral (idol receiving)

WC ⥬ 5.5k

part 1 | part 2

joohyun watched junmyeon's lips move as he talked on and on about his business deals at work. she would say she was listening to him, but she knows better than to lie. to be completely honest, her mind was in a different place.

this date was way different than the first.

their first date had felt so much more easygoing and fun, but only now she could tell the romance was missing. it felt like he was only talking about himself. she adjusted her hair and her dress, feeling oddly uncomfortable. this is not the same sweet charming guy she talked over phone with, and she was starting to see through his facade.

she was thinking of inviting you to join them earlier, before she had left, but obviously she wasn't going to make you tag along on their date because she didn't want you to actually meet him until they were officially dating like she had done with her other relationships. seeking your approval was always her number one priority because you knew her more than she did herself, and you were a little protective. nevertheless, you always closely examined each guy she brought to you, making sure that they had good intentions, checking if she had misjudged their motives. you were like the shield to her warrior.

maybe that's why she felt a little more awkward, or uncomfortable. she knew your presence made her feel safer and she was starting to feel uneasy with the man, sensing that he was slowly getting cockier and more rude as time passed. you never made her feel like this, never made her feel so little or inferior. clearly, he was trying to do that by flaunting big business words and bringing up his famous clients.

she knows that if you were here, you would've set him straight and told him off for making her feel upset. she blushed as she thought about you defending her like you usually did, always being straightforward and scolding someone if they even dared to hurt her. you were always the one to protect her, so of course she would've wanted you here tonight. she also would've enjoyed the dinner more if she could hear you talk about something dumb rather than this snooze-fest of a topic.

she also thought about whether you did want to come and were just afraid to ask. she's brought you on dates before, usually when she meets up with someone she doesn't know well. though, those relationships never lasted, they always ended it because they "knew her heart belonged to someone else".. anyway, you usually did everything together so it wasn't that odd for that to be the case. you did look quite down when you left her place.

"joohyun? you okay?" startled, she was brought back into the moment when she heard him.

joohyun locked eyes with the man in front of her, "hm? yeah i'm fine, why do you ask?" she put on a forced smile, trying to pretend like she wasn't ignoring his rambles.

he inspected her face. "it didn't look like you were really listening." because she really wasn't. this entire time she had been trying to figure out why this date was just boring. she hated to admit it, but this was not what she expected the date to be like. she thought it would be like the movies where she'd come to the conclusion that she had finally found her soulmate.

she could tell that he wasn't anywhere near to having that title. she needed a way out of this, any second longer hearing about how his business clients tried to finesse him and she may go crazy. "junmyeon, you're a good person but i really can't sit here and waste your time." she sighed at his shocked face, his ego clearly damaged. "i don't think this is working out for me."

"what? wait hyun—"

"don't call me that, there's only one person who's allowed to call me that." she said sternly. his eyebrows shifted and he wore an upset expression, but she didn't care. that was the nickname you gave her, so she never allowed anyone but you to call her that. not even her parents. it ticked her that he did, she always made sure that the precious nickname was reserved for you.

"joohyun," he corrected himself, "can't you just give me a chance? for me, this date has been great and i think ending things here would be stupid! i'm really the perfect boyfriend for you." he pleaded before reaching for her hand, but she dodged it, scoffing at his childish behavior.

she begins gathering her belongings, trying so hard to not roll her eyes at him. "who are you to decide what the 'perfect boyfriend' is for me? maybe i'm not wasting your time but rather my own." she stood up, looking down on him like he was scum.

he clicked his tongue in annoyance. "should've known a girl like you was only good for her looks." he muttered under his breath and leaned back in his chair.

she's fuming. "don't call me or contact me, or else." joohyun took her bag off the chair and began to speed walk away.

"or else what? you're going to get your loyal puppy you call your best friend to come and fight me?" that made her pause and she could hear him getting closer as he followed. "she'd probably do whatever you command her to. after all, she clearly just wants to get in your pants just like the rest of us."

a slap echoes in the now silent restaurant.

everyone watched as joohyun struck junmyeon right across the face, the sound of her hyperventilating and a couple of murmurs the only audible noises to her. she was mad, livid even.

"it is not your business what y/n does, nor is it okay for you to judge her like you know anything about her. you must have some nerve to think everyone is as much of an asshole as you. i've known her for years. i've been her best friend for years, and i've seen every side of her. i'll decide what her intentions are with me." junmyeon held his hand right over the cheek she slapped, bewildered by how hard she hit and how defensive she was of you. she muttered some other insults under her breath as she collected herself.

she took a deep breath and looked around, realizing that everyone was looking at the two of them. she felt a little embarrassed, not about defending you, but because she was disturbing the innocent bystanders who were just enjoying their dinners. she gave a small bow to apologize for making a scene, and glared at the man who was still standing there not saying anything.

she needed to leave asap. she felt so angry that she wanted to cry, so upset that she got involved with someone like this. at times like this, your consolation was all she needed to make the anger dissipate. "once again, don't try to contact me." joohyun made clear before storming off.

the moment she reached home, she took off her heels, switching them with house slippers, and threw her purse onto her counter after she got her phone from inside of it. she called her only pinned contact and waited to hear your voice.

instead, she heard her own voice in the form of a custom voicemail, the same one she made for you when you both were still in high school. "hello! if you are trying to reach y/n, she can't pick up the phone probably because she's too lazy to... anyway leave a voicemail or call again later!" why was it sending her straight to voicemail? joohyun was confused because you would always wait for her call, especially if you knew she was going out with someone in case of an emergency. it wasn't like her calling you was out of the blue, it was a regular thing. she could even recall the days you stayed up all night, saying you couldn't sleep because she didn't call.

she called once more and ended up with the same outcome. at this point she was already extremely upset, mostly with what went down at the date, and she wanted your comfort. she grabbed her keys and decided she would just go to you. either way, she wanted your presence, no, she needed it. it was like an urge that she could just not brush off, she needed to talk to you. without changing into her shoes or even changing her outfit, she got into her car and drove off.

once she reached your street, the first thing she noticed was that your car wasn't in your driveway. when she typed in your passcode to your door, she also noticed your shoes were also missing. usually when she came over, she would scold you for leaving your shoes all over the place as she put them away.

but this time, there weren't any shoes for her to pick up.

where could you have possibly been at 9 pm? the fact that you were more of a homebody made it even more odd.

joohyun went to your bedroom to lay on your bed, planning on just waiting for you to return. minutes that felt like hours passed and she felt herself nodding off, your comforting scent on your pillow lulling her to sleep. she was out cold by 11, still in her red dress as she didn't bother changing because she thought you'd be back sooner. otherwise, she would've just slipped into one of your baggy tees.

but as the sun rose and shone through the window of your room, you were still nowhere to be found. she shot up in a daze, looking around to see any trace of your return. nothing. you were still missing and she was starting to get nervous.

joohyun opened her phone and tried your number again, the same outcome. she called your parents, thinking it was probably the only place you would have been overnight, but even they said they had no clue where you were and that you weren't answering their calls either. joohyun apologized for calling so early in the morning and it was probably nothing to worry about, hanging up. she didn't want to drag them in and make them worried too, ultimately deciding to search for you on her own.

she was out of ideas, she had no idea where you were and joohyun was sick to her stomach just thinking about what dangers you could be in. you could be lying dead on the floor for all she knew. she curled up in your sheets and snuggled close to your pillow again, seeking comfort in it by hugging it and smelling it, imagining it was you. praying you were safe, she took a nap despite having just woken up.

five days had passed and joohyun was still in your bed. she only ever got up to cook something to eat using what you had, which was mainly instant foods because you relied on joohyun as she loved to cook you your favorites. when she met your mom for the first time when you were younger and she learned about all of your favorite dishes, she promised that she'd make all of them for you even if you grew up and learned how to cook on your own.

great. now she was crying again, it's like she was reminiscing memories of someone dead. she hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed. her worries got the best of her and she was not only worried now but also scared. it had been almost a week and there was still no sign of you anywhere, on your socials, your dms, nowhere. she felt like she was dying not being able to do anything but wait in your home.

she already called the people she knew and they didn't know, called your favorite places to go and they couldn't recall you ever showing up, and she didn't know what to do other than wait. was she supposed to report you as a missing person? joohyun was so lost, not knowing what to do. she sniffled as her tear ducts were completely drained and a wave of sleepiness hit her like a truck. your pillow was decorated by her tear stains and she just hugged it closer, wishing you would just send her a message that you were okay.

she fell into a deep slumber as it felt like the only thing she knew how to do in this state of mind. not even the sound of the front door being opened woke her.

when you had returned, you spotted joohyun's car in your driveway almost instantly having seen it so many times. what was she doing at your place? why wasn't she out with her boyfriend?

you quietly entered through the main entrance. even if it was your house and you could've come in as loud as you wanted, you wanted to avoid startling your sensitive best friend, assuming she was somewhere in here. there, you were at it again, unconsciously caring for the girl who belonged to another. reality sucked and you felt embarrassed that you cared so much when she didn't reciprocate your feelings after all.

the house was dead silent so with soft footsteps, you walked around in search of joohyun. as you passed the hall leading to your bedroom, you noticed how the door was wide open when you remembered shutting it when you left. for a second, you thought about the possibility that she had brought him to your house, but she knew you rarely let people into your house, let alone a total stranger.

you peered through the open door and saw a joohyun sized lump in your bedsheets with one of your pillows missing. silently, you fought the urge to just jump on top of her and throw away the five days of your friend's "therapy sessions" (you just cried on their couch and explained everything in incoherent words). you were supposed to be working on moving on, but seeing her again made it feel impossible.

you approached her as quietly as possible as she was quite the light sleeper, sitting on the empty space beside her. you gently peeled the blanket from her face, praying you won't be stepping over any new boundaries. she was just as pretty as you thought she was, but her eyes were puffy and a little red and there were faint tear streaks on her cheeks. you found your missing pillow, but it was stained with tears as well. not only that, but joohyun was still wearing that red dress she looked so beautiful in. that was what she was wearing when you last saw her though..?

before you put the puzzle pieces together, joohyun began stir awake. she felt the bed had sunken into and turned around to see you sitting there with a confused look. she stared at you blankly for a moment. "hyun?" it took a second for her to process that you were finally home and when she did, she launched herself at you, wrapping her arms tightly around your torso. you were taken aback by the force of her tight embrace, but you melted in her arms, rubbing her back as she started to cry into your shirt.

"you're back.." she mumbled into the fabric, inhaling your natural scent mixed with the scent of fresh laundry.

in a sudden burst, she put both her hands on your chest and shoved you back, forcing you to get up off the bed and stand as her breathing got heavier. her sweet expression quickly switches to an angry one and you are so confused by the change in her demeanor. you try to get closer to her given the distance she made, but she moves farther away on your bed.

shit, you should've known you were getting too cozy when she's already taken. you've gone and made her uncomfortable. nice one, dummy.

"hyun, i'm.. i'm s–"

"how could you..?" joohyun asked, her voice quivering as her eyes brim with tears. you felt a tightening sensation in your chest at the sight of the distressed girl. and to even think that you had hurt her when you worked so hard to protect her heart from all pain.

"hyun, i'm sorry. i–i truly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i was just thinking about myself."

she furrowed her brows. "what?"

"there's obviously a line and i didn't mean to overstep it, nor did i mean to disrespect junmyeon. i was just so used to our usual skin-ship that i wasn't thinking about it" once you say that, joohyun begins seething.

"are you stupid?! that's not the problem!" she blows up. "the problem here is that you decided to leave out of nowhere without even calling me or messaging me once! i called everyone, even your parents!! and i felt so hopeless not knowing what to do."

she had it wrong, you didn't think it was going to be this hard on her. you just wanted to fix yourself and heal your broken heart. "hyun, i wasn't–"

"i was here panicking when you were probably frolicking around, partying with other people, enjoying yourself. you just disappeared and i was worried.. i was so worried." the tears spill over, and she's now a crying mess. the gears in your head went into overdrive trying to understand her. she thought you were out having a blast, being a party animal? you..?

now you're upset. "me? 'frolicking around'? what, you think i was out clubbing or going to bars, doing something fun?" you asked with a mad tone.

the switch in your vocal tone caught her off guard."yes.."

you scoff. "seriously? that's not even close to what i was doing, but okay, whatever you want to believe joohyun." you ran your hand through your hair, sighing deeply, trying not to get mad with the way she accused you of something stupid. she was clearly not okay and you weren't going to get upset at her. "i'm going to leave, call me when you want to talk."

she fist tightened, her nails digging into her palms. "of course you are, you're good at leaving." she felt a surge of emotion through her veins. anger, sadness, she felt it all when you said that and she gave up. you bit your lip, feeling like you were about to boil over. she read into your expression of disbelief, "you know how hurt i was?"

"you were hurt?!" you yelled. joohyun flinched at your volume, which you noticed, but you couldn't just bottle this up forever and act like you were okay just to protect her. "what about me? i was hurt too when you made me sit through that date, watching you flirt and laugh with some man you met a few days ago. i was hurt when i watched you talk to him over the phone when we were supposed to be hanging out. i was hurt that someone you spent so little time with managed to steal you away from me so easily, even though i've been by your side for years."

you quickly tried to wipe the streams coming from your eyes, but they just kept pouring. joohyun sat there so lost, perplexed by your shouts.

"what.. what are you–"

"for years, i've been in love with you, joohyun."

joohyun's eyes widen and her arm that was holding her up gave out for a split second. her puzzled face made you want to laugh in pain. you spun around and made your way out of the room, desperate to get out as quickly as possible.

you snatched your keys off your kitchen table and stuffed them into your pocket, slipping on your favorite pair of shoes that you left randomly placed at the front door.

before you could even put on the first one, joohyun slammed you into the wall, pinning you against it. if it were any normal day, you would have let her do her thing and just stood there flustered, but you were over it. "joohyun, move." you command, trying to gently pry her off of you.

"no!" she cried, doing her best to prevent you from slipping out of her grip. she was really afraid that you were going to leave her this time.

"joohyun."

"so stupid.." she mumbles and you furrow your eyebrows. soon, you were going to get wrinkles.

"me, stupid?"

"you are! you really think i want that bumbling idiot?" she growled.

"well, yes? i saw how bright your eyes sparkled when you talked to him. you love him, i can tell." you remembered how stoked she was after the first date, spending her days on her phone, talking to him.

obviously, that's not how she recalls it. "how are you going to tell how i feel?"

"i'm not stupid joohyun."

"well maybe you are because i'm in love with you too."

you both just gaze into each other's eyes, feeling the tension lingering in the air. your eyes slowly shifted down to her lips that were slightly apart, listening to her breathing pick up its pace. you wanted to kiss her so badly, her plump lips so tempting to taste. seeing that you weren't going to make the first move, joohyun placed both of her hands on your cheeks and inched forward, capturing your lips into a kiss.

the leisurely kiss slowly turned into a heated make out. the sounds of your wet kisses were deafening, the entire place dead silent otherwise. she was starting to pin you more by leaning her body onto yours, pressing you completely into the wall as her hands snaked around your neck. it was making you dizzy, feeling her body on yours. you tilted your head and bit her lip, allowing you to slip your tongue in to explore her mouth. joohyun let out a small moan in return, surprising you.

you broke the kiss, your lungs crying for air as you try to figure out if this was going the way you hoped it was. scared she did something wrong, joohyun looked down and frowned. you put a hand on her chin, lifting her head up so you could continue. "joohyun. do you really want this?" she nods eagerly, her excitement showing through how quick she responded. "i need you to say it out loud."

"yes, please, i want this." she pleaded. without wasting a second, you latched onto her neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks behind. she tried not to moan in fear of making you stop again, which she did not want at all. the pleasure was overwhelming for her, overwhelmingly good at least. you picked her up and she yelped as she wrapped her legs around your waist, your hands supporting her underneath her thighs. while you carried her to your room, she pushed back your hair and pressed kisses on a sensitive spot under your ear.

you opened your door with your foot and went straight to the bed, laying her down on her back. "turn over." she listens to you and flips onto her stomach. you go for the zipper of the dress and slowly pull it down, revealing her silky skin and pink laced bra. you hum in approval of her choice on undergarments, enjoying the view from behind. she whines, protesting your speed, urging you to hurry up.

she brings her hand to yours on her back to take over, but you slap it away. "don't rush me, joohyun." the authority in your voice makes her quiver, the heat between her legs intensifying. "i'll make sure you know how to be patient by the time we finish here." you say with smirk, loving how you can affect her so easily as she lets out a breathy sigh.

once the metal reached the end of the zipper, you placed your palm on the lower part of her back, making her flinch at the contact. you pulled down the sleeves of the dress and undressed her, revealing her pink lingerie set which amuses you. you toss the dress to a corner, careful not to ruin it as it was a cherished gift of yours. your eyes traced her fame, admiring how gorgeous her body was in pink.

"you wore this to your date with that douche? you got all prettied up for him?" you ask, a little mad just thinking about her wearing such a lewd thing for someone other than you. she nodded and pushed herself up with her elbows, shifting to face you, a little shy that you were seeing her in this. she puts her arms over her chest and groin. you grab her arms firmly and move them out of the way, allowing you to see her completely. "funny you think he deserved any of this."

you let go of her arms and grope her right breast, to which she lets out a squeak. "this," you give her a squeeze, making her moan out. "is mine. understood?" she just nods again, eyes closed as she focuses on the works of your hand. you move your hand around to her back and feel for the hook of her bra, undoing it with one hand. you tugged it off, the sight of a topless joohyun absolutely one of your favorites.

you forced her back until she was laid down flat, latching your lips around her perky nipple. the new sensation made her throw her head back, her nipples very sensitive. she felt your teeth gently bite on her nub and soothe it with a swipe of your tongue. at some point, she stopped caring about being loud or not, it was very obviously going to be impossible to be quiet when you knew how to pleasure her so well.

your lips left her chest and slowly worked its way down to her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses every inch of the way. you looked through your eyelashes and saw that she was just watching you so intensely, clearly waiting for you to relieve the ache that was only growing the farther down you went. just to tease a little more, you started to go the opposite way of where she wanted you to go.

joohyun whined for the nth time and pushed your shoulders back until you were face to face with her clothed pussy. there was already a wet spot forming on her underwear, the smell of her arousal intoxicating. with your pointer finger, you press onto the wet patch. her whole body seems to react as she tenses up, crying out, and you snicker at how sensitive her body was.

"stop teasing me, please." she begged.

"fine." you began rubbing her heated cunt through the fabric, and all the tension left her body. her small whimpers fueled you to get straight to the main course. you take her panties and rip them, tearing them off of her so you could have full access to her sopping pussy.

"hey!" she sits up halfway using her elbows, "do you know how much this set was?!" it was like steam was coming out of her ears. joohyun always valued everything and took care of her stuff with care so that they would last longer. you just laugh and look at her, the fact that you didn't give a shit was written all over your face.

you hold up her torn underwear with one finger, "baby. i can buy you as many as you want, but you are not keeping this." you take the pink laced set and tossed it to the side. "as if i would let you wear this lingerie after you bought it with the intention of having someone else take it off of you." you muttered.

your eyes take in the sight of her fully nude with her legs spread open, her wetness glistening in the light. once again, she felt shy under your gaze and forgot that she was even mad in the first place. she tried to close her legs, but you palmed her crotch, your hand getting covered in her juices. the pressure you apply makes her moan as she slowly begins moving her hips, grinding against your hand.

you let her do her own thing for a moment, taking the chance to get impossibly closer. you remove your hand and replace it with your tongue, giving small kitten licks to her bundle of nerves, each paired with a small whine. joohyun gasped as you sucked her clit and swirled your tongue around it.

"fuck! h-haah, why are you so good at this.." she asked between breathy sighs. you let go of her nub with a small pop before dragging your tongue down her slit. she was soaked. you slurped up her wet, slick juices and dipped your tongue into her, making her emit sounds at a pitch you didn't even know she could reach. you pick her thighs up and put them on your shoulders. as you devour her, you circled her clit with your thumb.

her mind is foggy, the unholy thoughts of having you ravish her all day, every day being the only thing she can think about. no one knew how to treat her like you do, how to pleasure her, how to make her feel good. comparing you to her past relationships and few one-night stands, there was really no one better than you.

you pausing made her perk up, unhappy with the loss of contact. "no one better than me, hm?" your teasing smirk infuriated her, realizing that she let her last thought slip out. she put her hand on your head and pushed you back down.

"shut up, i didn't say that." she lied.

you took it as a challenge, a taunt. "oh really? so you need me to prove that there will never be anyone to please you like i do? consider it done, bae joohyun." you stopped talking and dove in, clamping your lips around her engorged bud. without warning, you plunged two fingers into her sopping pussy. she screamed out in surprise by the complete 180, going from soft and gentle to rough in the blink of an eye. the mix of your fingers thrusting in and out of her with the biting and licking of her clit brought her closer to her climax within minutes.

"fuck-!!" she put both of her hands onto your head, raising her hips trying to press herself harder against your face. "gonna cum, i'm gonna cum!" she warns, but her higher pitched tone with her antsy movements gave it away already. you sped up and curled your fingers into the spongy flesh. you pressing onto her g-spot sent her over the edge, her back arching as she gasped.

she went silent before her body started shaking violently, her soft, warm thighs crushing your skull in order to keep you in place and she came. you removed your fingers, but continued to lap up her gushing juices, making sure not to let a single drop go to waste. coming back down from cloud 9, she loosened her hold on your head, scared she hurt you because she needed an outlet for the pleasure.

all worry was wiped clean as you came upon with the biggest smile on your face, looking like a kid on a sugar rush. around your mouth and on your chin were the remnants of her orgasm, the thin coat shining in the light. she hummed, "i think you got a little something on your face." she joked, pointing to you. you poke your tongue and cleaned your lips, wiping the spots you couldn't reach with the back of your hands.

"all gone?" you ask. she shakes her head no and leans in, licking a strip on your face.

"there, all gone." she says innocently as she bats her eyelashes at you. she was so close that you could feel her breath on your face. she was so clearly staring right at your lips so you close the gap, smashing your lips into hers, allowing your lust and love take over. when you broke it to prevent yourself from suffocating, you saw how she's surprised by your energy. "what?"

"you thought i was done with you, hyun? i still have years of daydreams and fantasies that i need to fulfill. unless you're too tired?"

her surprised face transitioned to a snarky one, her energy matching yours now. "i'm never too tired to make up for lost time." she shoots back before pouncing onto you like a hungry fox hunting its prey.

the whole night was dedicated to you showing joohyun just how much you needed her, wanted her, and she got your message. she felt it in every touch and in every whisper.

you finally got the chance to express your deep and unwavering love for her. no more slow dancing in the dark.

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love &lt;3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house. 

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy. 

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–” 

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes. 

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it. 

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds. 

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.” 

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.” 

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.” 

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–” 

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.” 

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.” 

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him. 

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

– 

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill. 

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing. 

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath. 

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready. 

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers. 

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?” 

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.” 

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.” 

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.” 

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

– 

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.” 

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–” 

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.” 

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star. 

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong. 

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?” 

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.” 

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.” 

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: It's A Full Moon Outside, the Weirdos Are Out [Smiling Man x Reader]

Title: It's a Full Moon Outside, The Weirdos Are Out [Smiling Man x Reader]

Synopsis: You probably shouldn't get drunk and take a walk in the woods on Halloween, but you do anyway.

For Horrorfest request: reader meets smiling man on halloween night when they're with their friends at like a party or adult trick or treating or smth

Word count: 1500ish

notes: reader gets drunk, female reader, implications of being worried about getting murdered?? not much else

You are buzzed, edging in on drunk–in that sweet boozy-woozy zone where your chest is warm and your face is warmer, and people seem extra nice and everything (and everyone) tastes more delicious than they would be in light of a sober day.

But what is Halloween for, if not drinking and dancing the night away while dressed in a patchy witch costume you found at the thrift store? So that’s what you’ll do, while remixes of the same old Halloween songs blare in the open-ended rental house someone booked just for this evening. 

It’s a cool place, out near the woods. The kind of place you’d love to have rented as a teenager to do just this sort of thing, but with the added thrill of the forbidden. 

There’s no thrill in your stomach now as you slide open the patio door and step out into the cool night air. A few couples are hanging around on the patio, lit only by the dim glow of some cheap lanterns someone put there earlier this evening.

You give a wave to someone who might be one of your friends leaning against the railing–it’s hard to tell, in the dark–and keep going, carefully stepping down the stairs and onto the cool grass of the lawn out back. It’s quieter out here, with only the dim sound of the party inside, the quiet conversation of the couples on the patio.

Beyond the yard is the woods, lit by the moonlight, by a smattering of stars that are more visible here than back in town. You’ve missed those stars. When you were little, hell, even when you were a teenager, you could see the stars so clearly, even from your house. Now they are faint things.

Nostalgic, drunk, your hand reaches up for the sky, wanting to touch the stars you used to see back then. Bottle them up and keep them under your pillow so you can look at them before bed and remember when. 

If only you could do that, keep this feeling with you; retain that something that you lost as you got older. If only, if only. And with that thought comes the silliest of memories; that mantra you used to stammer out as quickly as possible whenever you saw the first star of the night as a kid.

And you’re alone, more or less. Why not? Why not focus on those stars and whisper it: 

“Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” 

“The stars look even better from the woods,” says a voice, and your drunk self almost twists an ankle on the grass in response.

“Sorry,” says the voice, and hand on your chest, you turn around to see your friend from the patio. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Well. You think it’s him. It’s dark, you’re drunk, and he’s really not that great of a friend, anyway. Even through the filter of booze. A rush of shame flushes through you at being caught in the act of something so silly, but he doesn’t say anything about it, and you let it fling away. 

“I was gonna go for a walk,” you say, without knowing that you’d been planning to do that before. But maybe you were, and that’s why you didn’t stay on the patio. Why you came out to the yard and stared at the sky and thought about the woods beyond. 

“Alone?” says your friend, a hint of wariness in his voice. “I’ll go with you.”

Oh, yeah. Maybe not walking alone in the middle of the woods, drunk, during a house party filled with friends, strangers, and people you vaguely remember being not-so-nice in high school wasn’t the best idea.

The idea seems sensible enough, so you shrug and gesture for him to lead the way, and he does. He keeps his hands in his pockets as he walks ahead.

He’s not even wearing his costume from earlier in the night anymore, and you pin a mental reminder to tease him about this. The pin will be forgotten, thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system, but still. 

The forest does have a trail, well-worn and unpaved, but easy enough to navigate with your friend walking in front of you. So far, anyway. The moon is full, thank God, but the farther you get away from the house, the harder it is to see.

You’ve been walking for an awfully long time, you think. It’s hard to know, when you’ve been drinking. Time gets all slurry.  

“I should’ve brought my phone,” you say, nearly tripping over a branch. “We need a light or something.’ 

Your friend hums up ahead. “It wouldn’t have worked out here anyway. Few things do.”

The reception wasn’t that bad at the party, but maybe your friend has been out here more and would know. You’re not as close with the host as you used to be (fuck, it is hard to keep friends as you get older) and you’re sure you get left out for some events. 

A wave of bitterness, and maybe it’s reflux from the alcohol, too, rushes up your stomach.  You shove it down because you’re supposed to be enjoying the night and getting a better view of the stars.

Speaking of–

You crane your neck upward, eager for that pinch of nostalgia, and–

There are no stars at all.

There’s not even a proper sky. Where the open sky should be is mottled by gnarled trees, all dark and twisted, looking for all the world like some sort of twisted cage keeping you in. On instinct, you whirl behind you, and where there should have been a clear path through the trees, there was only dense forest.

Something’s wrong, very wrong, and your friend just keeps on walking up ahead. You call your friend’s name, a whimper at first, then louder–scared.

He stops. 

And turns.

And as he approaches, step by step, the thought occurs to you that your friend isn’t quite this same build. And his hair is darker, isn’t it? 

The man in front of you isn’t your friend at all.  You don’t know this man, and yet he keeps on coming. You can’t see much in the dark, but you can see the barest hint of his features; you can see his smile. 

“My,” he says, voice taking on a charming lilt. “You really are inattentive, aren’t you?” He sticks his hands in his pockets, and keeps on smiling. “But I suppose the alcohol plays a part.” He snorts, now. “People really do make it easier for me, with that.” 

“Easier to do what?” You ask, throat tight. You don’t have a weapon. No keys, even, to tuck between your fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck, you shouldn’t have come out here, what were you thinking? You’re a grown ass adult, you know better than this. 

Now you’re going to get murdered and left for dead in the woods, dressed like a witch. They’ll find your blood-soaked witch hat a few feet away from your body or something ridiculous like that.

Tears spring to your eyes and you must mumble out some sort of plea, because the strange man takes a step back, puts his hands up.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he says, almost softly. Almost enough to make you stop thinking your final thoughts, blurred and drunken though they are. “I promise.” 

Things other than killing come to mind, and you look behind you, hoping for an escape route. All you get is the forest, unrelenting and thicker than it ought to be.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. It makes you bristle, and you get the alcohol-induced audacity to point a finger at him, glow-in-the-dark nail polish standing out in the dimness.

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

The man’s smile flickers into frown. “Such manners,” he sighs. He adjusts his stance, sticking his hands back into his pockets. “I’m offering you a bargain. I don’t always make such personal calls on All Hallow’s Eve, you know.” Something like a stuffiness nestles in his tone. “It is a very busy evening for me.” 

You don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, or if he’s crazy–presumably so–but you do know that there is nowhere to go. 

“What… kind of bargain?” Maybe you can stall for time. Someone will notice you’re missing, one of the couples on the patio will say they saw you walk into the woods with some guy, and that will be that. 

If you can ignore that the trail has vanished when it couldn’t have possibly done so; if you can ignore that the sky has been replaced by a cage of trees. Sure. This might happen.

His smile returns again, and he gazes up at the stars-that-aren’t-there. “Your wish, from earlier.” 

His gaze turns back to you, and you’re struck by the sudden, awful sensation that he knows exactly what you want. That he knows you. That he’s known you far longer than tonight. That he knows something that you will never know, and it keeps him smiling.

It’s not just the booze, and somehow, you know that, too. 

The gnarled trees above, blocking out those stars you used to see, and the forest behind you, keeping you from going back. 

And–

In front of you is a smiling man with his hand outstretched and a bargain on his lips. 

[urhoneycombwitch]

U just haaaaad to go and make another eddie for me to be feral over didn’t you? I need to know everything about roommate eddie pls 🤲🏻

IM IN LOVE W HIM TOO. thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak on it bc I have an origin story for roommate!Eddie with nowhere to go… until now 😈 here’s my other blurb of him btw linking in case others wanna see!! 🫶

so in this nebulous roommates!au, I’m imagining you’re besties with Robin. Eddie is besties with Steve. and of course since Robin and Steve are Ultimate Besties (in every world. in every universe.) they plot to get their respective Others together somehow. like, you’re offbeat and fun and so is Eddie!! should work out great right?

wrong. u and Eddie just don’t hit it off. you think he’s too loud and brash and godforbid he gets more than one beer in him ‘cuz he’ll be pulling you to the dance floor or making his own and embarrassing the everloving shit out of you. and he thinks you need to loosen up and get out of your head, which he decides is his new job that he takes VERY seriously.

eventually Steve and Robin stop trying to force it and yours and Eddie’s relationship just turns into casual frenemies. (a la Harry Met Sally) like, ah yes, You Again. the best friend of my best friend’s best friend 😒 you’ll hang out casually at various house parties and bars but always with a buffer, otherwise you’ll be at each other’s necks with (mostly) playful arguments and hot debates.

and it seems CRAZY at first that you’re gonna live in the same space but holy shit rent is so expensive in the Big City where you all moved to and it mind as well be with someone you know. you’re really worried about the set up but Eddie turns out to be real responsible with monthly payments and has a general respect for shared spaces (his own room is a black hole and it baffles you that he manages to have so many successful one night stands in that hell pit but you’re never in there so who cares.) plus it helps to have a man around fr, to spook the landlord into doing his job 👹 and also to fix things! and to give you lifts to work! and share snack duty! you find a rhythm and it’s great.

the night that he falls for you tho? you’re at group karaoke 3-shots deep and pick a cheesy Beatles song just to piss him off. simpering over your shoulder while you croon into the microphone, giving him a one-man-show that you hope triggers an earworm and irritates for days to come 💖 but actually he’s gripping his beer for dear life on the nearby barstool getting hit with the sickening realization of being in love. like oh fuck, this is bad. I cannot be falling for my pal’s pal. whom I also live with. what a fucking mess.

the night you fall for him? a second date goes sideways and you have no one else to call but Eddie. he fully leaves the solo gig he was about to play because you sounded so upset over the phone (doesn’t tell u that, tho!) and he could be a total asshole about it when he picks you up on the street corner but he absolutely isn’t. chews out your date, tho, with a viciousness that both delights and scares you. makes you a proper meal at home and wraps a strong arm around you on the couch and watches your favorite romcom and laughs at all the parts you laugh at. and you’re pressed up all close, wheels spinning in ur brain, unknowingly going through the exact same thought process Eddie had about a month earlier. Oh No. He’s My Bestie. Whom I Live With. This Cannot Possibly End Well.

aaaaand that about brings us up to canon speed, thus far! you and Eddie date around and have sex in your shared apartment but NOT with each other and if sometimes you get off to the sounds he makes when he’s fucking someone else and if sometimes he gets off to the noises of you in the shower well … no one’s business 🙂‍↔️

like why are u even asking about something soooo personal. like Robin you don’t get it it’s not like that I just wanna be near him all the time. that’s normal and what friends do. no, Steve, you’re not listening, we look at each other’s nudes as buddies. sorry you don’t understand how friendships work 🙄

(Robin and Steve have to set up weekly debriefs to compare notes and make sure they’re not going fucking crazy)

[sageyxbabey]

Whiskers & Wishes - Gaz x Reader (1)

jesus christ, i can't believe i'm doing this...

two of the images used are renders done by loneghostwolf88 (@loneghostwolf ) and BettyBRenders3D

Gaz x F!Reader, eventual smut (final chapter only).

this is: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | (TBA)

Summary:

Gaz knows you very well - he's been in love with you for the better part of a year. So when he jilts the wrong woman and ends up being turned into a cat for his troubles, surely the person who knows him best will recognise him, even like this... right?

You know Gaz very well - you've been pining over him for the past year. So when he disappears without a trace and a strange cat appears at your apartment, the little coincidences that remind you of Kyle are just your anxious mind making false connections... right?

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Kyle kept his head down as he made his way to the pub near your apartment, rain slipping down the slope of his nose. 

This was his last night of leave, and he had spent the entire day with you, the same way he had for each time off he’d had for the past year of his life. Outside of his task force, you had become his closest friend. To his heart, you had become something more. You were the lightness in his chest, threatening to float away with his heart in tow every time you smiled. You were the warmth that settled over his skin when you hugged him hello and laughed at his quips. You were safety and peace. You were still and mundane compared to his working life. And with a job like his, God only knows how magical the mundane could be.

But he could never tell you this. He couldn’t tell you this because you were his best friend, and you had been for a year now. A year spent spinning in your orbit and eclipsing you in sweet, soft moments. He had flirted, he had touched, he had watched. And now, in this dance of yours, he had spun you out and waited for you to keep the waltz going, but the longer he stood with arms outstretched, the less likely it seemed you would spin back into him. Being with you but not being with you was the sweetest torture. Your blade was carving him up, but all he wanted was to kiss the hand that held it. 

Sergeant Garrick was trained to hold up under pressure, but Kyle was about to crack. He knew he had to move on for his and your sakes. For better or for worse, Kyle needed you in his life now, and if the only way he’d get to keep you was as a friend, so be it. So, he pushed open the door of the Crossroads Hotel and bought himself a goddamned drink. 

And when he finished that one, he bought another.

And another. 

A hand grazed his wrist when he raised the bottle to his full lips for one last swig. 

“You’re drinking awfully quickly there, handsome.” Kyle turned to find the owner of the voice. She was nothing like you.

Maybe that would make it easier.

He leaned one hip against the bar and grinned, “Is this you offering to get my next one?” 

“Maybe, what are you offering me in return?” The woman purred.

“Hmm… Where to start? I have several talents, you know.” Kyle moved in closer as the stranger laughed. This was why he was here. He needed to try to shift his attention to people who would want him back. This bout of flirting went back and forth like a tennis match, and felt like one, too. It was performative, a hollow game. When she excused herself to the bathroom, Kyle was on his sixth drink and still just as drunk on thoughts of you. 

When he turned to scan the bar (hypervigilance was a serious work hazard), he spotted someone else who looked so similar to you… How could he resist? It was a terrible idea, but he was already feeling terrible. He approached this new player and started the same kind of game as he had before. His only prize was frustration at himself.

“Well, you don’t waste time,” a sharp voice groused – the woman from earlier.

In his self-pity and irritation, he said the words that he would both curse and praise himself for later. “No offence, but I don’t exactly owe you anything, do I?”

The woman cocked her head to the side, her smile just on the wrong side of inhuman. When her grey eyes locked onto his, he felt a shiver down his spine. “Fine. Since you’re so concerned with getting pussy, maybe you’d enjoy being one instead.” 

Gaz let out a grunt as the woman’s palm smacked into the centre of his chest, an odd sensation spreading out from his heart to the tips of his fingers and toes. By the time he collected himself, both women he’d been speaking to were gone.

He was alone. Wonderful…

With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, he closed his tab for the evening.

Shuffling back out into the cold and biting night air, Kyle made his way towards the end of the block. Nausea was setting in. God, how hard did that woman hit him? ‘ Clearly, the alcohol isn’t helping ,’ he thought, as an aching started in his head and joints.

Then, there was nothing but excruciating pain. If Gaz could’ve screamed, he would. But he could not breathe. He could not think. He felt like his bones were being pushed to breaking, like his skin was tightening in on itself.

Snap.

Now he screamed.

Crack, snap.

Holy shit, his bones were breaking. They must be because he knew that sound all too well. What the bloody hell was going on? Gaz moaned out in pain, shaky breaths getting smaller and tighter as he closed his eyes to try and brace through it.

As suddenly as it had started, it was over. 

When he opened his eyes, everything looked… wrong. Colours were not what they should be, and things were too clear for this time of night. That streetlamp was also… a lot bigger than it had been a moment ago. Kyle went to stand before freezing when he caught a glimpse of himself.

Was that a fucking paw ? Why was it moving when he tried to move his left arm? Kyle swung his head around to see not his torso and two legs but a cat's body and a full, long-haired tail. A glossy brown-black coat of thick fur.

‘I didn’t think I’d had that much to drink…’ Kyle thought. He was dreaming. He must be dreaming. But he felt very much awake, very much in pain, and he knew he had not made it home yet. Oh God, home. How the fuck was he supposed to get home? His clothes and belongings were not lying around after his… episode? Transformation? The half-an-hour taxi back to his place was now out of the question, and – assuming this was real and he wasn’t just having a fit in the gutter – he was not about to get very far on foot. On paw?  

“Shit…” Kyle tried to mutter.

“Meow…” was what he heard. 

Oh… you’ve got to be having a fucking laugh.

He was a soldier, a problem-solver. He just needed to think and find a way out of this. He needed help. He needed…

You. 

He’d come from your apartment, not two blocks away. Your building was pet-friendly, and he remembered the little dog door leading onto your balcony. Bless you – even when you didn’t know it, you were helping him. If he could get to your apartment, get inside, and figure out how to convince you who he really is, you could help him.

If this were all a dream, he would wake up in his bed tomorrow morning and laugh it off. 

If this was real, you were his only shot at getting out of this mess.

Moving was strange. Kyle’s brain was thinking about moving his limbs the same way he usually would, but the sensations he was getting back were all wrong: the strange tingling from the wind  moving in his fur and whiskers, the lightness of his body, and his shifted centre of gravity. 

He was grateful for how easily he could jump once he reached your block – scaling up the tree to your balcony with sharp claws. In one leap, he landed at the glass door. He ducked his head into the plastic dog door…

It did not budge. Locked. Shit . 

‘Hey!’ Kyle called out in his head. A loud ‘mrrow’ came out instead.

– – – – –

You startled at a strange flurry of taps and yowls as you tugged on your sleep shorts. You followed the noise with cautious steps out into your living room and breathed a sigh of relief when you spotted the culprit. The cutest little long-haired cat with wide hazel eyes stood on its hind legs, tail swishing eagerly with front paws pressed into your sliding balcony door. 

“Aww! Hi there, kitty!” you cooed. In response, you received a string of pathetic meows. 

“Do you live here? Did you get stuck outside, silly?” 

Your building was pet-friendly. You had a few neighbours with cats who liked to laze around outside on the warm pavement. The cat batted a paw at the small dog door. “Demanding little thing,” you laughed and reached down to unlock the flap. As soon as you did, your new guest darted through in a chocolate-coloured blur. The cat’s fur was shiny, and it looked well-fed. It was definitely not a street cat. ‘No collar…’ you thought, ‘Odd.’ You sent a quick message to your building tenants' group chat to see whose cat you’d accidentally acquired. 

In the meantime, your fluffy friend was mrow -ing up a storm as though you’d personally offended them. You knelt down on the carpet and offered your hand for a sniff. “Hi, baby,” you cooed. The cat stopped meowing and stared at you, blinking. You gently scratched behind their ears, watching how their eyes closed and head tilted in pleasure.

— — —

He knew you didn’t realise it was him, but hearing you call him ‘baby’ in that soft voice had floored him for a moment. 

He’d been chatting your ear off, hoping that something vaguely human-sounding would get through, to no avail. He was going to start thinking up Plan B, he swore, but then you’d kept cooing at him and scratching behind his ears – Oh, that feels very good, thank you – and before Kyle knew it, he’d leaned so far into your touch, he was flopped on his back, purring. You giggled sweetly, and Kyle felt his heart melting in his chest. 

“Oh, what a sweet baby! You’re such a pretty girl,” you fussed.

Kyle’s eyes opened, and he let out an indignant chirp. 

“Hang on, are you a girl?” He watched you lean forward with a surreptitious gaze before realising your intent. Kyle yowled and flailed away, but you had seen enough. “Oh, pretty boy. My mistake.”

You were completely unfazed. 

This was the most mortifying moment of Kyle’s life. 

In all the ways he’d imagined you seeing him naked for the first time, this was never one of them. Oh, God… was he technically walking around naked the whole time? No… ‘The fur counts as clothing! The fur counts as clothing! ’ he thought. That was the only way to stop himself from curling up into a ball and dying of embarrassment.

You’d gone back to patting him at some point during his existential crisis, complimenting his fluffy tail and chest. “What a handsome little man!” You praised, stroking a gentle finger down his nose. 

He was going into cardiac arrest. He just knew it. 

“Where do you live, little guy?”

Your question snapped Kyle back into action. With a chirp, he was up and running across your living room.

— — — 

You watched the cat bound past your couch to sit in front of your TV console, right next to the framed picture of you and Kyle from the day you’d helped him move into his apartment. The cat just flicked his tail, looking at you almost expectantly. 

“What?” 

“Meow!”

“What!?”

He sniffed at the picture before turning back to you.

“That still doesn’t answer my question, mister.”

This time, the cat turned to paw at the photo of you and Kyle, and you jolted upright.

“No, no, no, we don’t touch that!” You took him into your arms and carried him back to your couch. He meowed in protest the entire time. “That’s a very special picture, pretty baby, so you leave that alone.” He flopped onto his side, the image of dejection at being denied the chance to cause chaos. You checked your phone to see responses from most of your neighbours; no one recognised the cat. “Well buddy,” you sigh, “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the moment. How do you feel about chicken for dinner?”

“Mrrp!” His tail twitched. 

You narrated your cooking process to him, picking him up to show him the pans on the stove. Your little sous chef sniffed the air before giving his approval, but complained the second you put him back down. “What’s the matter?” you whispered. His pleading eyes bore into yours as he pawed at your calf. “You wanna come back up? Okay, you big baby.” You supported his weight with one arm, his front legs resting on your shoulder while he watched you cook, tail swishing lazily. Now and then, you pulled a strip of chicken off the grilled fillets and fed it to him, laughing as he licked your fingers clean. You ate your dinner on the couch as he sat beside you, staring at your face the whole time – strange cat…

You may as well enjoy this little fluffball before sending him on his way. 

Your new friend gave a quiet chirp and nudged your hand where you had been absentmindedly scratching his chin. He rolled over to show you his belly when you looked down, blinking up at you expectantly. 

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “I see how it is. You’re just using me for cuddles, huh?” You hesitantly ran your hand down his tummy, barely brushing the soft fur. You’ve had one too many cats lure you in with this trick, only to scratch and bite you when you give in and pat the sensitive spot. You pulled your hand away from his belly, not wanting to risk a finger. He wiggled and meowed at you – almost petulant in tone – and you returned your hand to his stomach, feeling a purr vibrate against your fingertips. 

This odd fellow was changing your perception of the typical cat. “You are such a weird little guy!” He mrrped back at you and stretched out lazily, presenting more of his belly to you. You couldn't  help but laugh. “Cheeky little bugger,” you muttered before pressing your face into the long fur of his chest, dropping obnoxiously loud kisses there whilst you scratched his sides. You reached up to rub behind his ears before sitting up to grab your phone. 

“I’ve got to tell Kyle about you; he’s never going to believe this!” You starte dtyping out a message, but soon, a chocolate-coloured tail obscured your vision. Your new friend frantically meowed, demanding your attention. 

You hushed him, stroking his back with a soothing hand until his cries ceased. You briefly re-read your texts with Kyle. Normally, he’d have told you he was home by now and maybe sent you a meme or two before heading to sleep. You hope he’s just knocked out after packing his bags to leave tomorrow morning. This deployment wasn’t supposed to be a long one, thank God. 

You’d already started missing him before he left your apartment earlier today. You used his goodbye visits as an excuse to hold him tighter, like you could press him into your chest and keep him there if you tried hard enough. 

Your eyes flicked to the time. It was getting late.

“Alright, pretty baby, I think it’s time for you to go home.” You picked up the cat and walked towards your balcony door, but he wriggles out of your grasp for the first time tonight, darting back to the couch. You kneeled next to the small cat flap, holding it open. 

“Come on,” you coaxed. “You need to go home, little kitty. Your people will miss you!” The cat kept staring, unmoved, even as you pspsps to try and get him closer. You sighed, resigning yourself to leave the little plastic covering unlocked. “Fine, I guess you’ll leave on your own at some point.” You stand and make your way towards your bedroom before freezing in your tracks. You turned back to point a stern finger at your feline friend. “Do not. Shit. In my apartment.” You stared each other down in silence. Satisfied with your quiet agreement, you turned and crawled into bed. 

Half an hour later, you were fast asleep when silent paws padded into your room and leapt onto your bed. You didn't feel it when a gentle weight sank into the pillow next to you, one paw stretched out towards your face.