#I wonder if I could convince my lover to cut me open some day

[neverendingford]

.

[icyminghao]

a-teen!

pairing: bestfriend!seungcheol x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst, idiots to lovers warning(s): mentions of food, reader plays a fem role in a school production word count: 3.2k

summary: you can’t remember life without seungcheol, and so can’t he.

When I was very young I wondered If there was anyone Who could understand me

AGE: 5

Seungcheol has always been alone.

For as long as his five-year-old self has lived, he’s never really had any friends. He’s more than content with it, though, because as much as his mother had been convincing him to “Go approach the other kids first!”, Seungcheol would much rather spend his playtime building sandcastles alone in his little corner.

So when he skipped into the playground on just another day of hanging out by himself during playtime period at preschool, to say he was surprised by the sight of you not only being at his usual spot at the sand pit, but building on top of his painstakingly-built, one and only sandcastle at that, was an extreme understatement.

Seungcheol was furious.

“Hey!” he stomps into the sandpit, and you look up at the commotion. “What are you doing to my sandcastle!?”

You stand up to meet his eye level, mouth opening and closing like a fish having been caught off guard. “Um… I-”

“Seungcheol, be nice to them!” you’re cut off by a familiar voice, and the both of you turn towards the sound to see your beloved teacher, Miss Yoon, standing before you. Miss Yoon smiles softly at the two of you, reaching down to rub a hand on your back.

“Seungcheol, this is y/n. This is their first day here, so they must not have known this was your spot, honey,” Miss Yoon reasons, and Seungcheol’s eyes widen, realising his mistake, before looking down at his feet to hide his embarrassment.

“What should you say, Seungcheol?” Miss Yoon prods, and Seungcheol flares even redder in embarrassment.

“S-sorry…” he mumbles reluctantly, much to his dismay. Miss Yoon chuckles.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then! Be nice to each other, okay?” Miss Yoon beams at the both of you before walking off to another group of kids. You and Seungcheol continue facing each other awkwardly while Seungcheol reels in his embarrassment, refusing to talk to you first out of pettiness.

“My name is y/n!” you reach forward cheerfully, raising your tiny hand up to wave at Seungcheol. Seungcheol stares at you, dumbfounded.

“I know.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, seemingly unbothered. “I’m… sorry for building on your sandcastle. I thought the sandcastle would look better with a roof, so I went ahead and did it!”

Seungcheol glances over at his (or yours? or both of yours?) sandcastle, and as much as he hated to admit it considering he was just humiliated by you a few seconds ago, all animosity towards you before melted away.

“It… does look better.”

Seungcheol swore your smile rivalled the sun in his statement.

If there was even such a thing as love Or who would be the one to take my first kiss?

AGE: 16

Much to Seungcheol’s surprise, the friendship between the both of you survived his petty tantrums in preschool, your emotional dramatics in middle school, and his raging teenage hormones in high school to end up where you both were now.

Looking back on it, your friendship didn’t really make much sense to Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s a soccer jock, and you’re a theatre arts performer. The both of you have always been on two opposite ends of a spectrum, yet somehow, he always finds himself gravitating towards you.

And that’s not to mention your (and his, he supposes?) overwhelming popularity. Everywhere you went, guys and girls flocked to you, vying for just a second of your attention. Yet, (to his glee,) you always choose to direct the entirety of your attention to him time and time again, and Seungcheol just can’t help but take pride in his status as your best friend.

A best friend that he’d maybe want to kiss.

Wait, what?

“What are you thinking about?” you nudge Seungcheol with your toes from the opposite end of his bed, snapping him out of his stupor.

“I’m not thinking about anything!” he exclaims immediately in reply, looking away as you raise an eyebrow at his suspicious response.

“Really?” you scoff, “You stopped answering me five questions ago.”

Oh. Come to think of it, Seungcheol isn’t even sure why he lied.

“Anyway,” you move on from the topic, to Seungcheol’s relief, “I was just asking if you’ve had your first kiss yet.”

Seungcheol turns his head towards you so fast he almost gets whiplash.

“W-what?” Seungcheol barely manages to stutter out a reply, still reeling in shock at the fact that you knew exactly what he was thinking of. Heat slowly creeps up his neck as you examine his reaction.

“Have you?” your eyebrows raise just a little in amusement, and Seungcheol’s brain short-circuits, mouth opening and closing for a solid few seconds.

“Cheol, I’m kidding,” you clarify after a while, an amused smile creeping up your face, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No, I-” Seungcheol replies nearly immediately, “I was just surprised, that’s all…”

“…I haven’t kissed anyone yet, actually.”

Your mouth hangs open. “Really?”

Seungcheol nods in reply, subtly furrowing his brows together. “Have you?”

“No, of course not,” you reply without missing a beat. Seungcheol contemplates prodding you to elaborate, but you beat him to it.

“But… my friends at Theatre all told me it was kind of the norm around here to have had at least some kissing experience, and- okay, stop looking at me like that! I know it’s stupid! But… what if we were each other’s first kiss?” you rush out, eyes focusing on anything but your best friend in front of you.

“You… want us to be each other’s first kiss?” Seungcheol replies, absolutely dumbfounded by your statement.

“Only if you want to, that is!” you rush to clarify immediately after his question, looking down at your fingers in order not to make eye contact with him.

Seungcheol ponders on the request, eyes never leaving you. If it were up to five-year-old Seungcheol, he would have complained about getting the cooties and left immediately.

But he’s not five-year-old Seungcheol. Not anymore.

He leans forward, and you look up at the sound of the bed sheets crinkling. His lips envelope yours completely as you do, catching you off guard. You let out a small gasp in surprise, but make no move to stop him. The butterflies in Seungcheol’s stomach are practically begging to be released, swirling in uncontrollable motions as all Seungcheol can think about is you, you, you.

The kiss is awkward, and clearly highlights the inexperience of both you and Seungcheol.

But it’s both of your firsts, and that’s all that matters for Seungcheol.

The first few minutes after you pull away are awkward, the both of you clearly unsure of what to say to each other having never been in such territory before.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” you pipe up first, and Seungcheol nods immediately. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Cheol, you’re a solid best friend.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol replies, the last two words of your sentence bringing him back to reality, “I guess I am.”

When I look to the side I see you, standing next to me, that gives me courage

AGE: 17

You can’t remember life without Seungcheol. In fact, you like to think your life started when you met Seungcheol, and now you can’t imagine what you’d do without him by your side for every milestone in your life.

Until now, you suppose.

By some stroke of luck (or the opposite), you had been given a golden opportunity to play your first leading role of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, which entailed performing to a sold-out show of at least two hundred. Only, Seungcheol coincidentally has a sports retreat on the same day, three-hundred and twenty kilometres from Seoul.

“I’ll make it,” he had said with unwavering determination, warming your heart to the core with his insistence. “Trust me.”

But as you stand in preparation backstage, eyes glued to Seungcheol’s latest messages, you can’t help but let a wave of disappointment rush over you at the realisation that this would be the first time Seungcheol would miss an important milestone in your life.

cheol </3: i’m so sorry y/n, it’s taking a bit longer than i expected. [19:10]

cheol </3: i’ll make it up to you [19:11]

cheol </3: smash the stage like you always do, yeah? [19:11]

“y/n?” your clubmate and stage manager, Minhee, pats your shoulder lightly, and you jolt a little in surprise. “You’re up soon. You can do this, okay?”

You press your lips together and nod in response, your best friend’s text messages still lingering in the forefront of your mind.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, part of growing up is learning how to be independent, right?

As you step onto the stage, ever-aware of the two-hundred-or-so pair of eyes staring at you. All you can think about is doing well.

And you only have yourself to thank for relentlessly training your acting skills, because it takes everything in you not to drop your jaw in shock at the sight of the person you’d least expected to be among the audience tonight.

Seungcheol maintains eye contact, the intensity of his gaze igniting your body in flames as the world seemingly disappears. Your heart processes his presence before your head does, as you let out the brightest grin while still reciting your lines, your glow lighting up the whole stage for the rest of the performance.

The piece is over before you know it, and amidst the roars of applause and cheers among the crowd, you’re focused on one and only one person.

Beaming at you, your best friend simply shrugs as he mouths, “I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

You’re quite sure your smile rivalled the sun at that moment.

My heart that was as pure as the clouds wants you My poor choice of words express my heart I’m just saying anything, you make my heart pound This strange feeling, seems like it’ll be my first and last Because of you

AGE: 18

Seungcheol is late.

Which is surprising, considering that you’re (more often than not) the tardy one in the duo. Rain or shine, Seungcheol always shows up first at the cafe you frequent every week, laptop already on the table with both of your usuals in front of him.

By the half-hour mark, you’re ready to pack your bags and leave when your best friend stumbles into the cafe, his hair frazzled as if he’d rushed all the way here.

He spots you almost instantly, speed walking towards you as a million apologies roll off his tongue.

“I’m so sorry,” Seungcheol begins as he slides into the seat opposite you. You notice that he’s brought nothing except for himself into the cafe, but don’t call him out on it. “The boys were keeping me from leaving training.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face at the mention of your best friend’s goofy teammates, and you hum, “What did they make you do this time to make you forget to bring your stuff too?”

Seungcheol hesitates for a while before smiling sheepishly, and you stare at him, confused.

“I can’t stay here for long,” Seungcheol explains, picking up a cautious tone, “They set me up on a date in… twenty minutes.”

You don’t know why, but Seungcheol’s revelation has your heart sinking as your brain tries to come up with as many different ways as possible of justifying whatever you’d just heard to you.

It’s not like this is Seungcheol’s first ever date, you try to reason, he’s been on plenty of dates since you’ve been friends, so this shouldn’t be any different, right?

“y/n?” Seungcheol stops your internal spiral, and you jolt a little as you look up from the table to make eye contact with him. “Are you… okay?”

“Y-yeah!” you exclaim a little too loudly, wincing at the volume, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed as he analyses your expression. He opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it, desperate to end the conversation.

“You should go. It’s not good to be late on the first date,” you flash him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, kicking him softly under the table to make a point. Seungcheol opens his mouth again, but you shake your head, nodding towards the exit.

“Have fun,” is all you can manage as Seungcheol slowly gets up from his seat. You feel terrible for worrying him with your actions, but all you want to do is be alone with your thoughts at the moment.

You let the waves of disappointment, sadness, and everything in between crash down on you as you watch Seungcheol leave through the door, and it’s not until many hours later and you’re still staring at the cafe doors that it dawns on you.

You’re in love with your best friend. You’re very sure you’ve always been, and you feel nothing but stupid for only realising this now, when his heart is at risk of being stolen by someone else.

Having a first kiss by the age of sixteen wasn’t even that deep for you or your theatre friends. You’d just brought it up that fateful day because as selfish as it was, you wanted to feel Seungcheol’s lips on yours without ruining your friendship.

Having Seungcheol present at your first big performance was so important to you, because he was important to you. You wanted him to see you shine, wanted to impress him, so much so that the idea of him not being there almost impacted your performance that day.

You’ve been in love with your best friend for as long as you can remember, but you’re quite sure it’s too late to do anything now.

Eighteen, this moment won’t ever come back I’m giving it to you (All in, all in)

AGE: 18

Seungcheol feels horrible, and for many reasons.

For one, he feels horrible for going on the date his friends set him up on, when he’s clearly wasting the other person’s time.

He feels horrible for the short responses he’s giving to his date, and feels horrible that calling his date his ‘date’ feels horrible to him.

But most importantly, he feels horrible for leaving you in the cafe. His heart shatters as he imagines you all by yourself in your favourite booth, and the date is not helping considering the fact that he can’t help but subconsciously compare every detail and every interaction with his date with his interactions with you.

“You know, I was sceptical at first when I heard the rumours, but I’m completely sold now that I’ve had the chance to talk with you,” Seungcheol’s date (Julia, he belatedly remembers,) chuckles.

“Huh?” Seungcheol replies, dazed.

“You and y/n,” Julia explains, and Seungcheol’s eyes light up at the mention of you, “You like them, don’t you? I thought there was a chance you didn’t, since you’ve been friends for so long, but you do, don’t you?”

Seungcheol freezes like he’s been caught, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Julia simply laughs.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad or anything,” Julia says between chuckles, “your teammates did tell me this much when I told them to set us up together.”

“Oh, no, I just–” Seungcheol replies, trying his best to put his thoughts together coherently, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” Julia shakes her head, smiling, “I already knew. I’m not sure if y/n does, though.”

Eighteen, right now This might be my everything Everything, everything

AGE: 18

Seungcheol is almost completely out of breath by the time he’s at your doorstep.

He’d apologised profusely to Julia for that disaster of a date just a little over an hour ago, all while she’d been encouraging him to confess his feelings for you.

Pacing around the corridor, Seungcheol’s heart starts pounding faster as the nerves finally creep in.

What if you don’t feel the same? Will your friendship still stay the same?

“Cheol?” your familiar voice breaks him out of his inner turmoil, and the way you call him by his favourite nickname has him smiling subconsciously. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh—” he rubs the back of his neck, nervous, “I wanted to see you.”

You tilt your head in confusion, moving to stand in front of him. “Are you not supposed to be on your date right now?”

Seungcheol winces at the implicit reminder of him leaving you at the cafe, looking at you with the most apologetic expression he can muster.

“Yeah… she ended it early.” Seungcheol explains, and you furrow your brows together.

“Why? Were you too boring?” you’re suppressing your laughter now, and Seungcheol can’t help but smile along with you.

“Not funny, y/n,” Seungcheol huffs, “But you might be right, yeah. I may have been a little boring intentionally.”

You look at him quizzically, urging him to continue. “I just— I like someone else, y/n.”

“Oh.” is all you reply as Seungcheol mentally chastises himself for how horribly he’s steering this conversation.

the “Um, it’s pretty late now, so you should go back,” you pipe up after a beat of silence and turn to go into your apartment. Seungcheol rushes to stop you, hand reaching out to grab your wrist.

“Wait, I—” Seungcheol takes a deep breath, eyes boring into yours.

“I’m in love with you,” Seungcheol breathes like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder, and you, too, let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I probably have been ever since you fixed my sandcastle for me back in kindergarten, and I’ve never stopped. I’m just stupid enough to realise only now that I love you so much, and I really, really hope you do too because—”

Your lips are on his before he can finish his sentence, and his eyes widen a little before he leans into you, kissing you back with full force. Just like the first time, the kiss sets off a million butterflies in Seungcheol’s stomach, and he embraces the feeling, reaching up to cup your face in his hands as he closes the nonexistent gap between the two of you. Seungcheol can only hope this is enough to convey his love and longing for you.

“I love you too, idiot,” you breathe out as you pull away, giggling as Seungcheol chases after your lips. “I wasn’t going to fix your sandcastle, you know, but Miss Yoon told me to make friends with you, so I did.”

“Well, thanks for fixing my sandcastle that day, then,” Seungcheol thumb brushes gently across your cheek, as if committing the feeling of your skin to memory.

“Your sandcastle building skills are horrible,” you huff as an attempt to divert attention from your burning cheeks.

“You’re so mean!” Seungcheol pinches your cheek and he puffs his in mock offence.

“But you love me,”

“I do,”

Your laughter travels down the corridor as the both of you continue bantering, just like when you were both sixteen and hopelessly pining for each other.

Seungcheol’s heart is full as he looks at your beaming self. He’s loved you for more than a decade, and he’s only just begun.

a/n: finally posting something after so long!! this has been in my wips for really long, and i lowkey don’t like how it turned out :( really missing every one on here though!! how have y’all been </3

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[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hiiii! I was wondering if you could write an Astarion x reader where Astarion cant go under sunlight yet he misses it so much. And maybe he comes across the reader who’s soaking in the sun and he admires them and then later he tells them that he misses the warmness of the sunlight and the reader cups his cheeks with their hands, letting Astarion feel the warmness that was left by the sun on the readers skin. Idk if this makes any sense but it’s a cute concept in my head 😭🫶🏻💕 thank you!!

You Are the Sun to Me

pairing : astarion x (female) reader

summary : astarion watches as you do the thing he longs to do the most, bask in the suns warmth. you allow him to feel it through your skin.

When you arrived in Baldur's Gate you figured your life would be different. And when you killed Cazador with Astarion by your side, you were sure that nothing would ever negatively affect the two of you again. So when the time came to defeat the elder brain, you were happy and excited. 

But when you found out that Astarion’s tadpole was no longer protecting him from the sun, your heart broke. Aching for the young man, the two of you fled from the city. He liked life on the road more anyways and you were willing to sacrifice the city for the wellbeing of your only love. 

Besides, camping around had its perks. Astarion was usually in charge of picking a spot for the night, and thankfully his taste was unmatched in everything he did. He always managed to find the most beautiful scenery. 

“I could never allow my lover to sleep on some shabby deer path, or in a smelly bog. What kind of man would I be? I know you’d enjoy a spot with a beach so much more,” He would say the most convincing words, kissing your hands, when you tried to convince him the spot you had first found was going to be fine. He would have no such thing, wouldn’t even humor your idea.

And of course, he was right, as he always was. When he finally picked a spot, a large open space for your tent and fire, and the defining feature, a river cut off from the world by a line of trees. It was like the world had put it there for the two of you alone, and he knew exactly where to find it. 

Throughout the day, when Astarion would spend his time reading inside of the tent to hide from the light, you would sneak off to the nearby river bank. 

With your clothes thrown haphazardly along the shore, you would lay in the sand and bask in the heat of the sun's light. It was your time to yourself, to relax, a time when you could let your guard down.

But Astarion had always been one to take advantage of an unsuspecting eye. So while you lay, with your eyes closed, relaxed in the sun's light. He would watch from the tree line, pupils wide with adoration.

A part of him was filled with envy of your ability to lay so freely in the sunlight. Another part was saddened to think that he would never be able to feel its warmth against his skin any longer. As bad as it was to have his mind violated by the tadpole, he missed the sun more than he had the first time. With the tadpole he had gotten another taste, but he never would again. 

Within all of his anguish, Astarion still found himself able to look at your figure taking in the sunlight, and still find your beauty of far more importance. It was hard to be envious of such a beautiful creature. 

“Astarion?”

Startled by your voice, he snaps out of his trance, and finds your eyes. 

“Sorry my love. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Just wanted to appreciate the scenery.” He settles his arm against the tree beside him to hold him up as he converses with you from afar. 

Slowly, you stand up to walk over to him with wobbly legs, tingly from not walking. 

“I can come back to camp if you want. I just need a moment.” 

“No no. Enjoy the sun.” Your heart aches once more as you see a sudden sadness glaze over his eyes, his lips purse as he holds back the emotions he truly feels. 

“Are you okay?” You approach his body now, standing under the darkness of the trees, hands reaching up to hold his face in the warmth of your hands. His face lifts, cheek pushing against your hand as he tries to get closer to the heat.

“You're so warm, my dear.” His cold fingers land atop your hand, a heavy contrast against the heat you had collected from the sun, “I miss this feeling.”

He feels his eyes begin to collect water but he swallows back any sadness, choosing to indulge in your warmth. You pull him into your body, his hands reaching around to feel at your back. Even though you had been laying on your back it was still warm, far warmer then his hands which sent a shiver up your spine. 

“I’m sorry.” You place your face into his neck, gently kissing his collarbone and neck.

“For what, darling?” 

“You’ll never get to walk in the sun again.” Your own eyes start to brim with tears, empathetic for his inability to feel the sun. He pulls away just enough to look down at you, slender fingers playing with the flesh on your waist.

Slowly he lifts his hands to wipe away stray tears sliding down your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, “As far as I’m concerned I never need to walk in the sun again while I have you on my side, my dear. You are the sun to me. You give me all the warmth I need, and your smile, gosh, I don’t think the sun could match how it brightens my day.”

His words send heat to your cheeks, which he takes advantage of by placing his hands on either side of your face, pulling you in to kiss your lips gently. 

“We could come back out when the moon is over us. Moonbathe, no sun needed.” He chuckles at your attempt to reconcile the fact that he can’t join you as you sunbathe.

“I would love nothing more.” 

[jaimeslanisters]

the pawn in every lover's game (part ten)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 6.4k notes: late update which is 100% on me so my bad! but anyways, a lovely and beautiful anon made a playlist for this fic so give it a listen! here's a nice reprieve after the drama of the past chapters (:

Once, as children in your library, you had tried to convince Aemond to read the tale of Lady Jonquil and Florian the Fool. He had scoffed at you - it wasn’t the usual history or philosophy the two of you poured over together. It was a silly romance story, nothing to do with the important matters of state he was obsessed with understanding, but you had pressed it upon him to read.

You can still remember pushing your book of songs over his own book about the maesters of the Citadel, determined to present your case. ‘It’s not quite as serious as everything you like to read but it says something about men, I feel. Ser Florian may have been a fool but he was wise where it counted.’

‘Singers and bards are invested in us thinking that, my lady, but I don’t think it’s true,’ he had responded, rolling his eyes, but he had taken your book and read it. He had never once talked about it with you though, simply returning the book to you the next day and distracting you from asking him about it by dragging you into a debate over whether or not Lann the Clever was the bastard son of Floris the Fox or even Rowan Gold-Tree, a topic sure to rile any Westerlander, leaving you to completely forget about silly love songs as you had argued over your ancestor’s own ancestry.

‘I am as great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight’ Ser Florian had told his lady when he had crowned her. ‘All men are fools and all men are knights where women are concerned.’

With as much love as you have for the songs, you never could quite believe that line, could never make it quite click in your head.

But now, with the screaming all around you, as Aemond stands at your side, arm in arm and having crowned you with a crown of bloodied roses, you wonder if he’s remembering the songs as well as you are, if he’s realizing that maybe the singers were right in some respect.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask, pushing away your thoughts of the Lady Jonquil and her fool of a knight, in favor of looking over him anxiously. He’s bloodstained but you can’t tell how much of it is his and how much of it belongs to his opponent. His dark armor hides most of it, preventing you from picking out any clear wounds or injuries, and, out in the open like this, you can’t glide your hands over him to try and feel any out.

Aemond looks down at you, his eyes soft as he takes in your worry. “No, not hurt. Bruises here and there, some cuts and scrapes that my mother will drive herself insane worrying about, but nothing serious.”

You sigh in relief, leaning against him slightly, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and pull him close. You allow yourself a moment there, pressed against the hard armor, before you pull back, conscious of the eyes of all of King’s Landing watching the two of you. There’s a flicker of disapproval on Aemond’s face when he notices, his jaw tightening just a tick, and he shoots a baleful glare at the crowd.

It reminds you all too much of the way little Loren’s face would scrunch if anyone tried to pull his blanket away from him, right before he let out loud screams and wails that sent the entire household running to his side, and the odd comparison makes you laugh out loud.

Aemond’s brow furrows but his gaze softens once more as he watches your obvious glee.

“My father will be chomping at the bit to arrange a meeting with your mother,” you say after a while, smiling fondly as you look back toward the crowd. The royal box is emptying out and you know you only have moments before both of your families descend upon the two of you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to secure an… understanding for right now. At least, until Cerelle’s marriage is public knowledge and Tyshara and Lord Tarly announce their own betrothal.”

Aemond huffs, showing a flash of impatience that makes you beam. “Hasn’t there always been an understanding? It’s been his and your goal ever since you came to the capitol.” You blink, confused for a moment, before shame and horror blossom on your face as you realize he knows. His eye watches you, openly amused, and he leans down, mouth by your ear, voice so low you can barely hear him over the still-roaring crowd. “You’re clever, my love, but it’s only in recent years that you’ve become skilled at deception and manipulation. I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.”

Heat explodes in your cheeks and you pull away, gaping up at him openly. He smirks at you, infuriatingly smug, and, suddenly uncaring of the eyes around you, you open your mouth. To say what - you’re not entirely sure. A denial? An explanation? An apology? No matter what you plan to say, you still want to say something but you’re cut off when Aegon all but slams into his brother, knocking him from your grasp, and sending the two of them skidding slightly in the dirt.

“I’m a rich, rich, rich man,” Aegon crows, arm flung around his younger brother as he gives him a firm shake, looking elated. Right behind him, Daeron is excitingly bouncing on his heels, looking like a little boy in all of his joy.

“Haven’t you always been a rich man?” Aemond snipes back, no real bite behind his words, and Aegon merely grins wider, looking impossibly pleased as if it was he himself who had fought and defeated all the opponents his brother had faced.

“Yes but now I’m a richer man,” he corrects, even as the rest of his family arrives to crowd around you all, forming a wall between you and the rest of the world. “That was family wealth, brother. This is personal wealth now - mine entirely.”

You watch them, torn between laughing at their interaction or panicking at the fact that Aemond knows, before Helaena tugs on your hand to call your attention. When you turn to her, you jerk back slightly as she reaches up to your face with a handkerchief, wiping at your chin gently. When she pulls it away, you blink at the blood staining the white fabric.

Aemond’s hand. When he grabbed me earlier.

It should horrify you but instead, something in you roars with satisfaction. In front of all of King’s Landing, he had claimed you and he had crowned you and he had marked you. It calms you but only barely.

He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care for me too. If he didn’t think I was honest you try to reassure yourself but it’s still difficult to convince yourself of it. A part of you wants to be indignant at the idea he could judge you for seeking him out in marriage - the two of you had always agreed about the importance of marrying for your house rather than personal pleasure. You had just been lucky that for you, those two desires managed to be one and the same.

A larger part, however, is just scared. You can still remember, plain as day, the little boy who had seemed baffled that you wanted to spend time with him, that you even cared to speak to him. Aemond is grown now, more confident and sure of himself than he had ever been as a child, but you don’t want to hurt him. You never have.

You need him to know that. To know that you’ve always been honest in wanting him and only him.

Helaena knocks you with her shoulder and you startle, looking at her with wide eyes. She smiles, soft and gentle as always. “Don’t get lost in there,” she says, reaching up to tap at the side of your head.

You manage a smile. “I won’t, princess,” you promise, fingers itching for something to grab and squeeze in your nerves.

She eyes you and you know that she can see right through you.

You wonder who else can.

There’s a slight commotion and you look up in time to see the Queen descend upon Aemond. Unlike you, she’s well within her rights to brush her hands over him, searching for any wounds that he might be hiding. She looks equal parts relieved, exasperated, and proud as she crowds her middle son and, though you’re too far to perfectly hear her quiet voice over the still rowdy crowd, you can only imagine that she’s scolding and congratulating Aemond.

You only get a moment to watch their interaction when someone drags you into their chest in a facsimile of a hug and you let out a loud yelp. Aemond immediately turns at the sound, hand flying to his sword, only to have to force himself to relax when he catches sight of who it is.

“Your prince did well, sweetling,” Jason murmurs in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze, and you swat him away, fighting down a pleased smile. When you turn to face your father, he reaches up to touch the crowd on your head and, when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are tinged with red. “A Queen of Love and Beauty crowned twice in one tourney by two different men. You’re in rare company now, sweet girl. Not even Lady Jonquil can claim that honor.”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks go hot. Behind him, Tyland walks up, having been speaking with Lord Ormund. Even he looks victorious. “Are you talking about how our little lady and the Dragon Prince have ensured that the singers will be well-fed for the next few months?”

“Hardly,” you retort, knowing as you say it that it’s a lie. Victor and Aemond both crowning you, a Queen of Love and Beauty twice over, the Dragon killing the Fox. Individually, they were all things that would invite the singers to write their songs. Combined? You’d be lucky if it ever stopped. The bards must have been frothing at the mouth during the tourney and now that they’ve been given their perfect story, there is little doubt in your mind that they will take every advantage.

You wonder if centuries in the future if the songs would still mention you and Aemond like they mention Jonquil and Florian. You wonder what they would say.

I hope they’re beautiful songs, you think, feeling a girlish sense of joy spread throughout you, something you haven’t felt in quite some time.

“Now,” Jason says, grinning as he squeezes you again. “I have to speak to the Queen. See about arranging a meeting.”

“Not tomorrow,” you warn. “Helaena is to spend the day preparing for the wedding and I’m to assist her with it. It’ll have to be after the wedding.”

Your father laughs. “I doubt we’ll have a problem if we postpone a little, sweetling. Like Lord Tarly, Prince Aemond strikes me as an exceedingly patient man.”

You bite your lip as you think about the look in Aemond’s eye at the moment after he had crowned you - when he looked as if he wanted to devour you.

No, father, you think as you watch Jason walk to the Targaryen princes and their mother, his gait slow and confident like a predator that has finally cornered his prey. I don’t think Aemond is very patient at all.

“What did the court say?” You finally ask, tearing your eyes away from them to meet your uncle’s watchful gaze. “Positive? Negative? Will I be tarred and feathered during the feast tonight?”

He sighs, rubbing at his beard. “Excited, to say the least. There’s little the court loves more than scandals such as this one. This will sustain them for some time and I wouldn’t be surprised if some especially nosy ladies reach out to organize teas or take you out riding and hawking just to try and pry some gossip from you. I’d keep an eye out for it.”

You smile, shaking your head. You open your mouth to ask for more detail when there’s a screeching wail, loud enough to reach your ears but not quite loud enough to call the attention of the rest of the grounds. You look over and freeze, feeling as if someone has poured ice water over you, dowsing and chilling you completely.

Two servants stand awkwardly to the side as a woman sobs over Victor Florent’s body, her dress soaking in blood, staining its delicate blue beyond saving. A man is holding her, pulling her back, his own cheeks streaked with tears as he stares with despair down at the broken body of what once was a knight.

And Erren Florent stands, almost perfectly still, eyes boring into Aemond and his family.

His brother and good sister you realize as you watch their grief, your stomach twisting into knots. For all his faults, they must have loved him something fierce.

You want to look away, want to look and see anything else, but your body won’t let you. Is it penance? Is it a poor attempt at an apology?

You crush the thought as easily as it arises. Not an apology. Never an apology. This was a tourney. This was the melee. Men died as easily as flies and Aemond had been well within his rights to kill Victor. If it hadn’t been Victor, it would have been Aemond and his life is worth all of the lives of the entire Florent line. You’d rather have to personally rip their House out from their seat of power, root and stem and seed, than have to face what could have been today.

No. Not an apology.

Guilt.

If Victor Florent was the only victim, you would sleep easy. You would sleep happily. But he had a family. You didn’t care about Erren Florent - the man deserves to be knocked down like this, deserves to see his ambitions lying pitifully in the dirt - but his brother and good sister were innocent. Their only crime was loving their family.

You don’t even want to imagine the state you would be in if you lost one of your siblings. If Helaena or even Daeron or Aegon had paid the ultimate price.

If Aemond.

As much as you don’t want to think about it, the thought rises in your mind and you know what you would feel, what you would want, if you were in the position of Victor Florent’s loved ones.

Because of that, you turn back to your uncle, finally pulling yourself free from the Florents’ show of grief. “Send them our condolences,” you say, voice quiet but firm. Hardened. There can be no room for doubt. “But see if we can pay a servant in their party to loosen their tongue. If they decide they want more than our well wishes… We will move from there.”

Tyland watches you, careful and analytical. He’s looking into you, peering around as if he’s looking for something. You meet his gaze with determination, lifting your head up, and eventually, your uncle smiles. It’s a gentle smile even as his eyes flash with satisfaction and pride. “Of course, little one,” he replies, holding his arm out for you to take. You take it and he does you the favor of ignoring the slight tremor in your body. “Your will is my command.”

I am a Lion of the Rock and foxes cannot frighten me.

——————————–

Unlike the dinner before, you dress in your house colors tonight, shining in a gown of deep maroon with veins of an even darker red embroidered on the thick fabric. A corset forged out of gold, more decorative than serving any true purpose, cinches at your waist, a lion’s head embossed onto the delicate metal.

No one is looking at your dress, however. They hadn’t looked at your dress when you had entered or when you had bowed before the royal family. Even when you sit down to eat, your family all around you, your cousins and distant uncles don’t look at your dress or even your face.

Instead, they all stare up at your crown. You’d been near obsessively careful with it on the journey back from the grounds and, when your handmaids had been helping you dress and fix your hair, you had insisted on being the one to handle it. When one of them had suggested cleaning it, to ‘make the gold shine, m’lady’, you had had to bite your tongue to hold back from lashing out in anger.

Gold isn’t the only color of my House, you had said, firmly and without room for doubt or misinterpretation. I mean to do them both honor.

The crown of golden, bloodied flowers sits on your head, pristine and perfect. It’s a clear message. It’s a loud message.

When you had greeted the royal family and Aemond had seen that you were still wearing it, he had very nearly smiled, his face brightening up - not to the point that anyone else would recognize but so glaringly obvious to you. The Queen and the Lord Hand had personally congratulated you and Aegon and Daeron had even toasted you. Their acceptance of you as a Queen of Love and Beauty along with your clear preference for one crown over another has essentially tied you to Aemond publicly even if no betrothal has been announced.

An understanding, indeed You think to yourself.

It was truly no wonder that the eyes of the court stayed focused on your crown rather than you yourself.

There was one member of the court, however, who was not staring up at the red and gold flowers. Instead, Erren Florent was staring right at you.

There’s no expression on his face. Not grief, not rage, not even annoyance. His face is blank, an expressionless mask, and it was all focused on you. He sits alone. His son and good daughter must have sat out to mourn in peace but he had come.

He had come to watch you.

His gaze is heavy, oppressive, but you refuse to let him see you flinch. Instead, you straighten up in your seat, throwing your hair back, and meet his eyes coolly. His gaze sharpens, cold and cruel, and you know that if he could, he would leap across the throne room and slit your throat himself.

But he can’t. Not here, in a room where the most powerful people were allied to you. It must rankle his nerves, agitate his very soul.

How hateful, you think, to have to watch your son die while the world cheers around you.

You’d feel pity if you didn’t already dislike the man. You’d feel guilty about his pain if you weren’t cautious about the look in his eyes; the wild, crazed, desperate look.

You and Aemond have made your beds and burned down any chance for anything resembling friendliness with the Florents. Now you would have to lie in it, in the ashes of what the two of you had done.

Erren finally looks away, turning his gaze to some poor well-wisher that’s approached him to offer his condolences, and you join your cousins’ conversation. Still, you remain sitting straight, your posture so perfect that you’re sure that your old septa is somewhere beaming with pride, lest he turn his stare back on you.

Your cousins are predictably talking about the tourney - they’re gossiping about the melee and all of the handsome knights that, while unable to win the event, had proved themselves to be skilled and capable. A few of the more confident ones scheme about how to bump into the knights to see if they could manage to coax a dance or even a tea out of them. All of them keep cooing over your crown, most of them tactfully ignoring the blood staining the golden roses.

Surprisingly enough, however, Jocasta is the only one to bring it up. “Our House colors,” she quietly murmurs, still skittish under your gaze. “The Gods must have blessed Prince Aemond so he could be the one to give you this crown.”

She doesn’t meet your eyes but you smile warmly at her regardless. She’s a sweet girl, after all.

The actual feasting part of the feast wraps up fairly quickly and, when the dancing begins, you excuse yourself from your family and walk up to the royal table. This time, no one stops you and no one gets in your way and, soon enough, you’re sliding into the chair next to Helaena, smiling at her and Aemond both.

An awkward silence descends on the three of you - you’re not entirely sure on how to act now, not in this new reality where your and Aemond’s intentions have all been laid bare. Hours away from any Targaryen have calmed your anxieties - he’d never have crowned you if he hated you for the truth - but now you’re unsure how to approach talking to them, unsure if you should bring up the rather big elephant in the room.

“Are you ready to spend all of tomorrow in prayer?” You ask Helaena, grasping for a topic to talk about, and she sighs in response, her hands coming up to play with the ends of her hair.

“It should be a nice reprieve, to be honest,” she says after a moment. “It’ll be quiet. Relaxing.”

You nod, finding that you agree. “It will be nice to get away from the chaos of the rest of the wedding. Pity that we’ll miss the archery event though - Tygett seems pretty confident that he’ll win in that event.”

“Is he a skilled archer or are Lannisters naturally inclined to succeed when there’s gold on the line?” Aemond asks drolly and you shoot him a glare, ignoring how your cheeks warm when he chuckles at your dark look.

“I don’t say why we would be,” you say in your most haughty voice, tapping your fingers against the table. “We’re already richer than every other House in Westeros.”

“There is no limit to Lannister pride or ambition,” he quips back and you preen. You had heard the phrase lobbed at your House in the past, usually used to insult or scorn, but coming from Aemond, it feels more like a compliment than it ever has in the past.

A companionable silence falls over the three of you and you turn your attention back to the throne room, watching as the court mingles. This late into the night, people are slowly drowning deeper and deeper in their cups and you begin to wonder how anything ever gets done. It’d be easier to list everyone who isn’t drinking and it’s nothing short of a miracle that people are able to wake up in the morning in order to even attend the wedding festivities.

You’ve never particularly liked alcohol and usually could only tolerate a goblet or two of wine before begging off and asking for water. Aegon seemed to be somewhat invested in getting you drunk at least once but, as you watch your father flirt with a coquettish Lady Tyrell as her increasingly annoyed husband stands at her side and watches, you wonder why anyone bothered.

“If the feasts are already like this, I can hardly imagine how the actual wedding is going to go,” you grumble and Helaena laughs.

“Aegon will start drinking tonight and he won’t stop until after the wedding. I’ll thank the Seven if he manages to make it down the aisle.” She says, amusement evident, and you turn to smile at her even as your stomach squeezes at her response.

She’s fine with it, you remind yourself, wishing that the reminder would bring you any comfort. He’ll keep to his practices and she’ll keep to hers. It’s duty. There’s honor in doing your duty.

Aemond sighs. “Aegon will be there, Helaena. I’ll personally ensure it.”

“No choice,” she responds, almost chirping. “No choice at all.”

You watch her, heart beating fast in your chest, before she shakes her head firmly. She blinks hard before rising to her feet.

“I’m tired,” Helaena says, not sounding very tired at all. “Shall we leave?”

“So early?” You ask, looking over her carefully as you rise to your feet, suddenly anxious that she’s grown uncomfortable and you haven’t noticed. “Should I inform the Queen?”

Helaena shakes her head again, smiling. “No. I’m sure Mother will understand - getting an early jump on prayer and contemplation and all of that. Perhaps we should head to the gardens, actually. Enjoy the night air.”

After a moment, you nod, glancing over to see if you can spot the Queen regardless. She’s with her father, speaking to Lord Borros Baratheon, her emerald dress making her stand out even deep in the crowd like she is. “Of course, Helaena. I imagine the gardens are lovely right now.”

“Either way, I’ll inform Mother. I’ll also let Lord Lannister know as well, my lady,” Aemond says, glancing at you, and you quickly thank him, giving him a small smile as he nods his head at you.

“Join us after, brother,” Helaena calls out after Aemond has already made his way down to the ground, and, though her brother made no indication that he heard her words, she beams as if he’s already agreed. She turns to you, light entering her eyes and making her seem more like the little girl the two of you used to be rather than the women the two of you were. “Shall we go?” She asks, holding out her arm for you to take, and, after a moment, you loop your arm with her, grinning.

——————————–

The gardens are, predictably, empty with not even a token servant wandering its grounds. The moment you step into the cool night air, Helaena pulls free from you and, tugging at her skirts from the side to pull up her gown, darts into the maze-like hedges, her long silver hair streaming in the air behind her.

��Helaena!” You call out, immediately chasing after her, but the princess only laughs, delighted. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the garden are her giggles, punctuated by your cursing at your own gown as it snags and snares on every stray piece of foliage you pass. Mercifully, she finally slows to a stop, near the paved terrace that overlooks the rolling waters of Blackwater Bay.

Helaena sits, perched on the wall that separates the gardens from the rocky cliffs that jut out beneath it, face turned towards the waters. Slowing to a halt, you stop next to her, trying your best to calm your breathing from the sprint she had dragged you on.

“Look,” She says after a moment, pointing out towards the rocky outcrops in the middle of the bay, far in the distance. You follow her finger, eyes straining against the dark, until it lights up like day.

There’s a brilliant burst of flame, bright and hot enough that you can feel the heat crash against your body as if it was a physical wall ramming into you. A massive body, larger than anything could have the right to be, crashes into the water, sending up a massive wave that could swallow most ships you’ve seen whole.

Vhagar is hunting.

You watch, mesmerized with wonder and fear, as she rises up into the sky, clutching a whale in her claws. It’s a colossal thing, big enough to seemingly drag Vhagar down back to its home in the deep, but the Queen of All Dragons is stronger than that. The leviathan is writhing in her grasp, fighting with all its might to escape, but Vhagar’s claws are longer and sharper than any spear any man could ever hope to hold. She curls her talons in and you can hear the whale’s wail even from miles away, can see the rivers of blood that fall through the air like rain.

Vhagar flies up, up, and up into the sky where even her tremendous size can appear small, disappearing into cloud cover. Even in the dark, however, the moonlight casts her shadow and she looks monstrous, even hidden from view how she is. You watch until you can’t anymore until she finally disappears into the inky darkness of the night.

“Where does she feed?” You ask Helaena, hands coming down to the wall so you can lean, pressing deeper in the cool air as if you’ll be able to see her if you stretch.

“At an island deeper in,” Aemond’s voice answers and you nearly topple over in your shock, spinning around to see him smirking at your surprise. Next to him, Daeron is pinned under Aegon’s arm, both seemingly trapped by his older brother and also being the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. Aegon, for his part, looks mighty pleased, a wine bottle clutched in his hand.

Aemond walks closer, standing by your side and looking out towards the Blackwater. His eyes are focused, narrowed, and you get the idea he knows exactly where he’s looking at. “It’s a small island, past the spears of the merling king. From what I can tell, it used to be covered with trees but she’s razed most of it down to make her roost.”

“She’s far too big for the Dragonpit I suppose,” you reply, curling your fingers against the stone.

“She was too big a hundred years ago,” he hums. “Vhagar could fit - if she had any desire to. Once Balerion the Black Dread passed, she never returned to it. The island is her home now.”

You smile sadly at the thought of Vhagar leaving the Dragonpit forever once her brother had passed. Perhaps it hadn’t been her size that had driven her out but rather her grief. It seemed strange that such a creature, as ancient and destructive as she was, could feel such emotion, such heartbreak, but somehow that little detail has warmed you up to her more than anything else ever had in the years since Aemond has claimed her.

After a moment, you glance up at her rider. “How do you summon her?” You ask, feeling slightly embarrassed that the simple question had never once occurred to you in the near decade since Driftmark. Vhagar had always been an abstract figure in your mind - the prize that Aemond had bought with his eye. You had never stopped to think about the simpler details of her bond with the prince.

Aemond, noticing your sudden curiosity, gives you a half smile. “She always knows. My lady Vhagar will come flying if she senses I have a need for her. She’s always in my mind like I’m always in hers.”

You frown, looking back over the bay. Vhagar is no doubt far from here now but you can still see her in your mind: a massive beast that took up the entire sky. You wonder if, even as deep in her meal as she surely must be, she can still feel Aemond’s presence in her mind. “How does that work? What if you’re chilly one night and offhandedly think that you’d fancy a fire to keep you warm? Would Vhagar come bearing down on us and crush the Red Keep beneath her?” You question jokingly, laughing slightly.

“A dragon is not something you can call accidentally. You can try to summon one but it’s not some dog that’ll come running at your beck and call. Dragons will only serve those they want to serve,” his words are heavy with intent and, sharply inhaling, you meet his ever-watchful eye.

I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.

“Was I really that obvious?” You breathe out, heart pounding in your chest. Your voice is low, quiet enough so that the other Targaryen siblings, lost in their own conversation, cannot hear you, but he can hear you perfectly. The look gleaming in his eye tells you all you need to know. “How long have you known?”

He smirks in response, looking rather like the cat that finally caught his prey. “Since you arrived. Lannisters notoriously stick together and daughters of the Rock are usually treasured rather than shipped off. If your uncle wanted company from his family, he would have sent for some distant cousin or another and not his ten-year-old niece. You only would have come to marry and, with your family pushing for you to be Helaena’s companion, there were really only two real targets.”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks flush in shame and embarrassment. “Are you angry?” Do I need to apologize? Do you want me to spill out my heart here?

“After I got over the fact that a pretty girl actually wanted to spend time with me, I wanted to ignore you, but Mother made me promise that I’d give you a chance,” he says easily and you openly wince, feeling a pang of regret shoot through you. “You were difficult to avoid, however, always showing up at the library when I was studying, always willing to talk to me about whatever book you were reading. It wasn’t hard for you to worm your way into being my friend.”

You ruefully smile, shaking your head. “It wasn’t as if it was a chore, my prince,” you respond, the truth coming to you easily. “If I didn’t like you for you rather than the prince my father wanted me to claim, I wouldn’t have read nearly as many books as I did. I certainly wouldn’t have given you the sapphire necklace. That… It was the first gift my father ever gave me himself. During all my earlier name day celebrations, his gift would be mixed in with the ones from everyone else and sometimes he’d look as surprised as I was at whatever it was he had given me. I’m sure his old steward was the one always picking it out for him. But that necklace… It’s tradition, you see, in House Lannister, to give a maiden jewelry when she begins her search for a husband.”

“And you gave it to me,” Aemond says, no question in his voice - only the absolute truth of it.

“And I gave it to you,” you echo. “At the time, it was the only thing of value I could think to give you. That and my word. A promise from a Lannister is as good as any jewel.”

Aemond laughs at that. “Your word is as good as any jewel, my lady. Better even.”

You grin, relief washing over you when you realize he isn’t upset. “Perhaps. Maybe Lannister words aren’t worth as much as I say but all of us take our debts very seriously and your debt is mine.”

“And yours is mine,” he replies, as steady as the Red Keep itself.

I am yours and you are mine.

Before you can say anything, however, the too-familiar call of your nickname calls your attention and you look over to see Aegon waving his bottle of wine in the air, narrowly missing smacking poor Daeron in the skull with it.

“Brother! My shining Lady of Lannister! Come join us for a drink!” He shouts as if you’re across the Blackwater Bay itself rather than standing only a few scant feet away.

You can practically hear Aemond’s frown in his voice. “‘Join us’? You’re the only one drinking.”

Aegon laughs gleefully. “Come now, Aemond, we should be celebrating your victory! You may not be able to claim the true prize yet without bringing an entire kingdom down on our heads for defiling a lady of the Rock but you can drink!”

“He just wants to congratulate you,” Daeron rushes to say, no doubt recognizing the stormy look on Aemond’s face after Aegon’s less-than-subtle insinuation. “You’ve won a great victory and brought yourself much honor.”

“The hand will hold the iron,” Helaena sings even as she kneels down on the ground to play with a passing millipede.

“If you do not want a drink, though, it'd make you much more enjoyable to be with,” Aegon continues, shaking his head as he moves closer to you and Aemond. “Then your Queen of Love and Beauty will drink for you.”

You huff, sidestepping the bottle stretched out in an offer and gamely holding yourself back from smacking him away when his free hand reaches for your crown. “I thank you, Prince Aegon, but I’d rather not enter a full day of prayer and contemplation tomorrow sick from drink. I’m supposed to be praying for a blessed marriage with your sister after all.”

Aegon scowls at the reminder and you instantly wish you had chosen a different word to call Helaena. She’s his sister and his betrothed. Both are true no matter how much we all wish they weren’t. “If you’re praying for children for us, there’s nothing prayer could accomplish than a cask of the finest Arbor Gold could not.”

“Enough of that,” Aemond snaps, no doubt displeased with his brother’s blasphemy. “No one else will be drinking.”

“Daeron had a drink,” Aegon replies mutinously and Daeron’s eyes go comically wide. You laugh at his almost bug-eyed stare as you sink to the ground next to Helaena, sensing that Aegon will not allow anyone to leave before his fun is finished. Helaena beams at you as she grabs the millipede, bringing it up uncomfortably close to your face to show you.

“I had one,” Daeron hotly protests, no doubt missing how his older brothers, despite their discord, exchange amused glances at his overly forceful defense. “And you made me do it.”

Aegon grins. “I don’t know, little brother… You did trip on a rock on our way here.”

“Because you tripped,” Daeron shoots back.

“Mother would be disappointed to see how her baby dragon’s turned out,” Aemond says, voice as serious as if he’s discussing policy with the Lord Hand. “She had such high hopes for you.”

“But I-”

“I saw him wobble a little just now,” Helaena volunteers from the ground, not even looking up from the millipede crawling all over her hands.

Daeron whines, sounding like a little boy rather than the near-grown man that he was. “I didn’t!”

You grin up at him, shaking your head. “It’s alright, my prince. As long as you can hold your drink better than Prince Aegon, the Queen would find no fault within you.”

“There’s not much hope of that if he’s like this after one,” Aemond replies, quick as a whip, and even he cracks a smile as Daeron loudly protests his innocence.

The five of you stay in the gardens long after Aegon finishes his wine, basking in the glow of the moonlight.

[bhaalbabebardlock]

~ Ruin ~

||One shot, single chapter; 3,859 Words. Reader (f!Tav) x Astarion

Important tags: major character death warning, sad smut, explicit, F/M ||

Masterpost | AO3 Link

Summary:

Five years after walking away from The Vampire Ascendant and everything he offered to you, you've returned to stop him from wreaking havoc on Baldur's Gate. That turns out to be harder than you think.

You let him press you against the wall, his hands coming up under your thighs. Lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist, another echo to when you both didn't know yet what you would become.

Each other's ruin.

Back in those woods, in those early days. As his fingers trailed over your skin for that first time, his eyes wide with lust and desire and an adoration that tasted so sweet, you wanted to hold onto it forever."

Some is under the cut, the full story is linked on my AO3 below.

Tumblr Masterpost | Ruin on A03

**************

Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It had been five years, and you knew you wouldn't find what you were looking for. Not really. Even if it looked like him, it would be a cruel joke. One that you had played on yourself only too many times as you attempted to mask the wreckage he had left behind.

You had left behind.

You're not the man I love anymore.

Good. I would have ruined your love anyways.

You didn't know then how those words would haunt you. How you would lay in your bed at night and when you closed your eyes you would see him leaning forward to kiss you. See him the way he looked when he was bathed in moonlight the night he whispered into your ear that he loved you.

Was he still there? That Astarion? Your Astarion? You didn't know. It was a question you asked yourself every day until the day you left and it was a question you had asked yourself every day since.

He had not kept quiet though, and he was causing havoc in the city. So of course they reached out to you. Everyone was aware of the hero of Baldur's Gate who had walked away from the city, from her title, and from the man who loved her. He had not been peaceful, in his attempt to get you to stay. You had refused him anyway.

You expected hostility maybe, or a cool indifference. What you received instead was almost worse. As you opened that door and stepped into his hall and his eyes found yours, you could feel yourself fighting the urge to run to him. To fall into his arms. Gods. He was just as achingly, painfully beautiful as you remembered. As if he had been carved from stone, a lethal beauty etched into every muscle of his body. His snow white curls perfectly framing his face, the flush of his cheeks as he pulled a smarmy smile at you. It made you want to fall to your knees and tell him how wrong you had been. How much you had missed him.

“Did you miss me that much, darling? Finally come to beg for my forgiveness?” There. There was the reminder you needed that this was not your Astarion. That this was a different man even if he wore your lover's face. Funny, that after half a decade you would still call him your lover, your Astarion. But he always would be, wouldn't he? And in so many ways, you would always be his too.

“Astarion, you've been changing people. Too many people. It hasn't gone unnoticed.” He only smirked back at you.

“Why little love, have you come here to kill me then?” You hadn't. Sort of. You had a little, but you were hoping that you could get away with a warning. That small part of you that hoped he was still in there. You still weren't sure which way you were going to need to go. Could you even convince him that what he was doing was wrong? He had been explicitly clear when he told you he was not the same, that he would never be that weaker version of himself. The version you loved. The version that haunted your dreams in the most deliciously painful way possible. This is a gift, you know.

You wondered what might have been different if you hadn't helped him ascend that day. If you had listened to yourself when you looked into his thoughts and saw how afraid he was. That this was desperation and a brute desire to break his chains, and that maybe there had been a better way. Maybe you didn't save him after all, even though that was all you wanted.

Maybe you damned him, in the end.

You weren't really sure.

You took a step back as he took one forward, his eyes dancing with a predatory gleam that you knew only too well. And then he was in front of you. You'd forgotten how quickly he could move now. Be in one place and then another. You don't let him show you it unnerves you to have him this close again, to smell that familiar crushed bergamot scent and feel like you've just walked into your home after having abandoned it for so long. You swallow around the pain of it, reminding yourself this isn't him. Not really. That only gets harder when he leans in, his voice caressing the shell of your ear.

“Tell me, darling, why are you here then?” Did he miss you too? Did he think about you as often these last years as you had thought about him? Did he too walk through the pieces of your relationship, wondering if there was ever a moment where you could have salvaged the love you both so desperately wanted? Promised to each other?

No. Probably not. But couldn't you pretend there was? For a moment, couldn't you let him lull you into believing that this is no different than the man who held you gently in his arms, kissing your temple while he whispered to you that he wanted something real? You could pretend that he had never told you he would ruin all of your love for him. Because it was still there anyways. All of your love for him. It was always real, to you at least. Every moment of it.

The rest of this can be found here on AO3!

[simonxriley]

Whats Your OCs Role In A Tragedy?

I was tagged by the wonderful @corvosattano to take this uquiz for some of the disaster kids. Thank you! 💜

Tagging @playstationmademe @nightbloodraelle @nightwingshero @detectivelokis @jinfromyarikawa @chuckhansen @baldurrs @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @kittiofdoom @voidika @shegetsburned @sstewyhosseini and anyone else who wants to do it!!

Unassuming Extra

you had maybe 3 lines but you will forever own my heart. you play a very minor role, one often forgotten about (not by me tho bby, i'll love you forever). however, your significance in the story is pretty big. something about you propels the story forward in a way no one else can do. you tend to blend into the background, and you probably like it that way. you want a simple life, free from the drama of the main characters. unfortunately, your story is almost always cut short. your role is usually a death that kickstarts the plot. going unnoticed did not save you, but it probably did bring you some peace of mind.

Misunderstood Villain

prepare for an onslaught of both the most dehumanizing and hateful takes, and flood of thirst comments. you are chronically misunderstood. whether or not you're actually evil is debatable. you may be acting out for revenge, to defend someone you love, or even just to protect yourself. you're a pretty jaded person. you don't trust or even really like most people. maybe you did at one point. but that part of you is gone, and you don't go a single day without grieving it. you think a lot about what your life could have been. you're stuck in the past. you're angry and maybe you don't even want to be, but this is the only way you can see to survive. you're open, but less in a trusting way and more like a wound. you don't like to let people see you, but the hurt spills out of you before you can stop it. you're impulsive, even as you try hard to plan and prepare. maybe someday your side of the story will finally be heard. until then, you can convince yourself that being hated is safer anyway.

Tortured Love Interest

you're so hot. sorry about the horrors. you're the kind of person people immediately notice. whether you have a distinct style, are more outgoing, or are just plain beautiful, you make an impression. people usually feel the need to protect you, which probably frustrates you to no end. you're not weak! you're not fragile! you're not helpless! but the people in your life tend to disagree. maybe it's your lover, the protagonist, trying to keep you out of their own turmoil. maybe it's someone responsible for you in some way, keeping you away from your lover, while they head down an increasingly dark path. regardless, all you really want is a sense of autonomy! unfortunately, you're very likely to die before that happens. the audience will be so caught up in the grief your death causes the protagonist that they forget to grieve you as a person. you deserved better, but unfortunately this is not your story. maybe it should have been.

Misunderstood Villain

prepare for an onslaught of both the most dehumanizing and hateful takes, and flood of thirst comments. you are chronically misunderstood. whether or not you're actually evil is debatable. you may be acting out for revenge, to defend someone you love, or even just to protect yourself. you're a pretty jaded person. you don't trust or even really like most people. maybe you did at one point. but that part of you is gone, and you don't go a single day without grieving it. you think a lot about what your life could have been. you're stuck in the past. you're angry and maybe you don't even want to be, but this is the only way you can see to survive. you're open, but less in a trusting way and more like a wound. you don't like to let people see you, but the hurt spills out of you before you can stop it. you're impulsive, even as you try hard to plan and prepare. maybe someday your side of the story will finally be heard. until then, you can convince yourself that being hated is safer anyway.

[rafor]

Chapter 35 - Experiment - The Glitch

Elementless crystals were in short supply, and the deliveries were slower than expected. I found myself with nothing to do as Kari granted me some days off. I decided to look for a place where I could practice my combat skills in my new form. I inquired of some royal advisers about an arena or a similar facility where I could test my elements. They dismissed my request and suggested that I attend some lessons first. I tried to convince them that I had already received training, but they were incredulous. My only option was to ask Freya again, and she agreed to escort me there personally. She ordered the guards to stay behind and guard the palace while we were gone. She regaled me with stories of her life, and then the conversation turned more intimate. I wondered why she was opening up to me. Maybe she was just being friendly or benevolent, but there was something else in her voice. A lover’s tone that she used constantly, flirting, probing, and inviting me to share more about myself. I felt nothing for her, so I treated her with the respect and deference that a royal queen deserved. We arrived at an arena where several adult dragons were training with their elements. They were all wind dragons, except for a wyvern among them. A young wyvern that I had never seen before. They greeted the queen respectfully when they saw us, and then she asked them to vacate the arena for me as a special guest. A whole arena just for me. I felt guilty for disrupting their practice because of me. I didn’t want to impose. But now that I had the space, I could experiment with anything that came to mind. The queen encouraged me to show her what I could do. She didn’t leave and wanted to see my elements in action. I didn’t oblige her right away. First, I summoned some ice and smashed it with my brute force. I tried to replicate the attack that Fyrenthos used on me by creating a thick wall of ice that fire couldn’t penetrate, then I tried to summon fire around me, but it was not my strongest element. I punched the wall again with my bare hands, but it didn’t budge. Instead, I hurt myself. The queen burst into laughter, and I felt embarrassed. Then she said, “Use your head.” I asked, “Literally or figuratively?” She looked at me and pointed at my horns. I clarified, “You mean literally?” She said, “Yes, big head.” That was crazy advice. What did she expect me to do? To charge at the wall of ice like a student in a duel, hoping to break it? That sounded risky. I was afraid that I would crack my skull on it, but she kept cheering me on and waiting for me to do it, so I decided to trust her advice and prepare myself. Head down, aiming for my target, I launched myself forward. A few seconds before hitting the wall at a very high speed, a layer of ice formed on my head near the horns. It felt cold, but it didn’t freeze my head. I hit the wall, and it shattered into a thousand pieces, but I didn’t stop.

I stumbled clumsily over the base of the shattered structure, plunging headfirst to the ground and scraping my knees and tender belly. The queen’s laughter subsided into a faint chuckle as she said, “Careful, don’t spoil your beauty.” I was about to reply, “Don’t worry,” but I paused and pondered her words. Distracted by my cuts and wounds, I waited for them to heal as usual before standing up, since rising too soon could worsen the damage and increase the pain. Eventually I found the courage to respond, and I said, “Thank you, my mistress.” I moved on with something else.

I resumed making my targets out of ice, and this time I conjured ice shards. Using my wings as usual, I hurled them at the target with precision. I obliterated it again. The queen asked me, “May I ask you, what is your favorite element yet?” I thought about it. I knew that she would favor “wind,” but my true preference was ice, so I answered honestly, “My favorite element? I’d say ice. It’s great with the wind.” She said, “Ice, what a lovely element! How about you conjure them, and I guide your shards to a target?” I was surprised by her offer to join me, so I said, “Are you sure? Ice shards can be dangerous.” She said, “I’ve never been more certain.” As she approached and prepared to throw the ice shards, I said, “Alright, then I’m going to conjure just a few at first in front of you. I’ll start counting, so you can get ready for it. What do you think?” She said, “Conjure more than you can. I can handle them.” Intrigued, I said, “If you say so, as you wish, my queen.” I started a countdown: three, two, one, and then I unleashed a swarm of ice shards. I made sure to conjure them neatly, in order, in a circle. She unleashed a powerful gust of wind at them. The wind didn’t cease, and the ice shards followed it. She kept guiding them and making them soar higher in the air. Then she divided them into two groups, and while controlling both, she flung one of the groups at the target. I was distracted by it and marveled at how well she was manipulating them, and I lost track of the second group of ice shards. Then I noticed her swiftly giving me a menacing look. After that, I looked at the sky above me. The ice shards were hurtling toward me at a very high speed. I instinctively tried to shield myself with my wings. The ice shards landed all around me in a perfect circle. I could hear them pierce the ground like daggers. I opened my eyes and scanned for any kind of damage. Not even one grazed me. I was terrified and amazed at the same time. I didn’t utter a word. She broke the silence. “So, what do you think?” While trying to catch my breath and calm down, I said, “Wow.” I waited a moment and added, “I’ve never seen the wind element used like that. You’re really good.” She said, “I could teach you that if you wish.” I said, “Really? Sounds great. Thank you.” She asked, “How good are your skills with wind?” I told her, “I was trained by Cyrus for less than a month, but I think I’m somewhat good. I could beat every wind dragon at the academy, but I didn’t have this form.” She said, “Alright, then we’ll see. I hope you’re already as good as you say.” We occupied the arena for the whole day. She gave me a quick refresher on the basics, then we moved on to more advanced skills. I learned how to control the wind much better than before. In just a day, I could conjure ice shards while flying and keep them around me without losing them while moving. But I didn’t learn on the first day what she had shown me before. On the second one, I attempted everything she did except for the splitting of the shards into groups. I couldn’t control them after that, and I’d always lose one of them. But I was determined to learn it. Sooner or later.

[acacia-may]

Hello Acacia _may I saw you were doing a song recommendation thing and I was wondering if you had any songs for Jessie and James 😉 hope your well

Hi Eggs! Hope you're doing well! 💕 Thank you so much for ask! I don't get a lot of Pokémon ones so this is really exciting for me, and I'll admit I had a little too much fun going through my old Rocketshipping playlist from way, way back in the day! (It's so old it doesn't even have a Spotify equivalent lol 😂). But yes, excellent pairing and lots of wonderful memories!

Your song & headcanons are below the cut! Thanks for playing my song + headcanon ask game! 🥰

So, in another life (long before I had a Tumblr), a much younger Acacia was just elbow-deep invested in Rocketshipping, and your ask has gotten me all squealing and kicking my feet up in the air about them again. I had lots of fun going back through my old playlist I made for them, though I'll admit most of it was pretty on the nose and/or cheeky with a bunch of criminals in love kind of songs (who knew there was such a genre of that 😅😂). One of my favorites of those has always been "Ocean City" (YouTube) by Charming Disaster. I feel like it really has this Jessie and James vibe to it since it starts of as this kind of bouncy, jaunty pseudo-love song about a couple on what we think is a romantic getaway only to find out by the refrain that these lovers are actually on the run from the law! 😁

It's a fun song so I think it's worth mentioning, but I decided to go for a more serious choice so I can write some related headcanons for you and picked "I Caught Myself" by Paramore which has always felt like a Jessie song to me in the context of Rocketshipping. I feel like the complicated feelings of the singer are very similar to how I imagine Jessie would feel about James and pursuing a romantic relationship.

So without further ado here are some of my "Jessie falls in love with James" headcanons:

Jessie has lingering abandonment issues from her childhood which have made her jaded and guarded. She really struggles to open up to others and even when she has someone in her life (like James) who is so devoted to her and has been such a constant presence in her life, she still struggles to truly accept and believe that he's always going to stick around so she's always looking for the "emergency exit" or that "escape hatch" in case things go south and she goes out of her way to convince herself not to care too much so she won't end up getting hurt.

Despite being so independent and headstrong and so guarded about her feelings, Jessie does feel this almost-undeniable closeness to James and feels this connection, but she stops herself from really exploring that or pursuing it. She does have these moments where she's really beginning to think "Oh, wow! I could actually be falling in love" but then she "catches" herself and doesn't really let herself feel that and just buries her heart deeper and deeper away from him, struggling to admit just how much he means to her and how much she cares about him.

This sometimes even goes so far as her consciously or perhaps subconsciously sabotaging her own chances at happiness by pushing him away. When she feels James is getting too close to her, she sometimes lashes out--feeling it's better to just stop anything that "could be" before it became something and she lost her heart only for it to be broken (or so is her fear)

For this reason, she never expresses her feelings or inner turmoil on this topic despite her affection growing not only in intensity but also in undeniability [to the point that by the time they actually do pursue something romantic with each other, everyone in their lives are just exasperated like "FINALLY. It's about time"].

It's James who confesses first though it is inadvertent and accidental. Confronted with the fact that he actually loves her, Jessie has a sort of existential crisis, but eventually allows herself to believe him. She allows herself to be loved, and it's in that moment that she reaches true acceptance that she loves him too.

I Caught Myself - YouTube

[medicus-mortem]

@ikkaku-of-heart​ asked: "I come bearing your annual chocolate and to ensure you're not half-assing your outfit for the party," Ikkaku declared, handing Law his anatomically correct, heart-shaped chocolates. In the box were also coffee-filled truffles shaped like brains, white chocolate skulls, and more white chocolate truffles painted to look like eyeballs. Morbid and delicious, just as she felt Law would like, and even more delicious than years past thanks to Sanji's tips on tempering and adding flavor.

Peering through her heart-shaped sunglasses of judgment, she appraised Law's attire before nodding in approval. "You meet the dress code, as always. Need to set an example for our sadly unfashionable knuckleheads, after all. You, me, and Kawauso are sadly the only ones who get the importance of dressing to impress." Even if said outfits could very well end up a bit worse for wear after the potential drunken and high adventures that could very well ensue during a Heart Day rager. It was the principle of the thing.

With a bright smile, she pressed a kiss to Law's cheek, glad to be spending Heart Day with her crew rather than wasting it on dates like some schmucks. Lovers came and went but nakama was forever. "All the other preparations are set for the party. Seems my 'dates' over the past week cut a good chunk of the labor in half. Seriously, Jean was able to just kick back and relax because I'd convinced Zoro that loading all the boxes of party supplies onto the ship was great strength training. Oh, and Clione's frying up some calamari we caught. Told you my little 'Valentines' applications were for the greater good."

Unprompted

   “Gotta look my beast, even when I’m aiming to get absolutely plastered,” Law says, opening his arms in a dramatic presentation of himself. He gives his engineer a lopsided grin, the doctor most definitely looking forwards to the party celebrating his crew. Although, his attention is quick to drop to the chocolates Ikkaku made for him.

    He opens the box, humming in appreciation as he plucks out a coffee brain and pops it into his mouth. A chew and a nod telling her he indeed approves of this batch of chocolates. They’ll be wonderful for those moments in the near futures when he’s too busy to remember getting a proper meal so he’ll just dip into the massive stash of Valentines chocolates he tends to retrieve on this day. Already got a few tucked away in the drawers of his desk.

   She goes on to explain how her catfishing dates the week prier worked towards adding to this day and Law’s features glaze over a little. He’s not particularly interested in who she dates or why, not unless they’re a threat or problem to the crew or his lovely engineer but he can appreciate that she’s using them to great affect, particularly for the celebration of the Heart Pirates.

   “Hmm, good and fine,” he says before striding past his engineer and out of his office. “Let’s go have some real fun and stop talkin’ about people that aren’t this crew and family, yeah?”

[loveandmurders]

Michael being your painkillers headcanons

Hello everyone! I would like to thank you all for the attention you’re giving to my little stories, it makes me very happy! Today, I post some headcanons about Michael soothing your pain away (you got shot, sorry about that).

Also female reader, with no description (not even for the outfit)

Warnings: NSFW (female reader receiving), murders, blood, reader being shot, one or two strong language, morally grey reader.

You couldn’t believe you were at the hospital, two cops in front of your door, just in case you tried to escape… or more likely in case your boyfriend tried to get you back.

It all started pretty well: you were at home with Michael and you had convinced the man to watch a movie with you. 

You were snuggled by his side, enjoying the moment. 

You weren’t sure what he was thinking about this all, but the fact he kept you close was a good sign to you. 

He from time to time seemed to grow distracted as he looked outside the house, but you caught it each time and you warned him he would have to deal with a very pissed girlfriend if he dared move his ass from the couch. 

He groaned each time but didn’t leave your side.

Until you heard some couple outside giggling and making out. You pouted as you could tell they were going closer to the house. Michael tensed. 

If he was already killing whoever was going inside his home or close to it before you arrived in his life, now he was slaughtering anyone walking down the street. 

It was quite safe for you to walk at night in their neighbourhood now, because everyone was too scared to go there.

You sighed and let Michael go when the couple leaned against the portail of the house to grope at each other. 

You heard Michael grabbing his knife and you watched him go “Be careful, baby!” you screamed after him. You barely saw him nodding at your words. 

You grabbed a blanket, cold without him, and continued to watch the movie, but it wasn’t as good now he was gone.

You were used to Michael's antics, and even though you had first been scared he would kill you too, he never laid a finger on you. It was as if, somehow, you were off limits, even in his mind. You more than once wondered why, but you were too happy about it to complain.

You turned the sound of the TV up, hoping it would smother the screams of his victims. 

It did… until one of them found his way inside the house. 

You jumped when a bloody body almost collapsed on top of you. You jumped from the couch and saw the man. 

He was deeply cut on the face and torso. He was trying to ask you for help, you could tell, but he was unable to talk anymore. 

You had no idea what to do so you started to scream for Michael. 

He must have heard you because he came back inside, holding the girl by her hair.

He saw your panicked expression and let the girl go to grab the man. He sliced his throat open without any hesitation and you felt sick. 

But the sensation didn’t last long because the girl grabbed a gun from her boyfriend’s vest and aimed at you. 

You just had the time to hear “you killed my lover, I’ll kill yours!” She screamed as she fired. She aimed you in the stomach and you collapsed instantly. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were at the hospital. 

Michael must have let the girl go for her to call 911. He had let them take you away from him, just for them to take care of you.

At least, you hoped it was what happened.

It was the morning already and you knew he wasn’t going to come get you before the night. You felt alone and for the first time you wondered what the fuck you were doing with a serial killer. 

You slept most of the day, until Dr Loomis came to see you

He was with the sheriff and they both looked at you with pure curiosity. They sat next to you, as you stayed silent.

“Do you remember what happened?” Loomis asked and you simply nodded.

“We have been told that you were Michael’s… girlfriend? Well, at least the girl we saved last night thought you were. She said she saw the way he urged back when you called for him and the way he looked at you. She even said he let her go just to save your life. What do you think of that?” Loomis continued

“Did he force you to stay at his house?” the sheriff asked you, sending a disapproving glance at Loomis for his lack of diplomacy.

You weren’t certain to know what to answer, but because you trusted Michael was going to get you soon, you simply said “He didn’t force me. I’m happy with him, as his girlfriend. You guys should be careful though, because he might be pissed off right now. And grumpy Michael is quite dangerous”

And you were definitely right about it.

Loomis and the sheriff had tried their best to reinforce the hospital security, but there were only going to be more dead bodies at the end of the night.

You heard some screams, and you were the only person to not be scared. 

Actually, you were quite relieved to know he wasn’t leaving you alone at the hospital. You wanted to be back home.

But you also wanted some med, as you were groaning in pain when he finally arrived in the room.

“You killed everyone?” you asked. He nodded. “Even my nurse?” He nodded again. You weren’t too happy right now.

He stared at you, tilting his head to the side, before coming closer. He was about to scoop you in his arms but you stopped him, and pushed him away. You were quite weak, so you didn’t do much, but he didn’t force anything. 

He continued to stare, patiently waiting for you to elaborate.

“I’m in pain, idiot. Find me something or I won’t follow you” you replied. You could tell that he was pretty clueless behind his mask.

He tried to scoop you again, and you pushed him away “you let her shoot me, so now find something to ease the pain” you snapped.

Your words were angrier than you wanted to, but the pain wasn’t making you a very nice person.

He stared again, a bit lost for a while. But you knew he agreed you had a good point.

He finally shrugged and removed the blanket from your bed. 

You gasped in surprise and annoyance and settled more against the mattress, your arms crossed against your chest.

You didn’t know what the fuck the man was doing and you didn’t have time for his game right now.

And your eyes widened when he climbed up the bed, topping you. His hands were quickly on you, checking your wounds to see where he needed to be careful.

You relaxed under his rushed and yet gentle touch, trusting him.

“You usually undress me when you’re on top of me” you teased.

But he did approve and started to remove the hospital clothing from you.

You watched him, wondering if that was really happening.

Your wetness was betraying how aroused you already were. Pleasure was definitively what you needed to feel better, especially if Michael was in a more gentle mood than usual.

You wondered if he felt bad about what happened, but it was hard to tell behind the mask.

“Is that how you’re going to take care of me, Dr Myers? By undressing me?” you teased even more, hoping no one was going to interrupt you.

He didn’t say anything as he finished removing your panties. He carelessly threw the piece of clothing away.

He would usually pin your wrists above your head and / or wrap his hand around your throat but he decided you were too hurt for that, and deep inside he knew he needed to make it up to you.

You never stopped watching him and his gestures. You were too unused to this side of him.

It was true he never hurt you, but he could sometimes be rough during sex. 

For once, he simply cupped your sex and started to stroke your clit.

You opened your legs even more, to give him more room. You also settled more comfortably against the pillows as you let yourself go.

You closed your eyes because his nonstop staring was making you feel a little bit shy. You were used to him watching you, but the intensity was different tonight, all focused on your pleasure.

You felt he wanted you to feel better, so you dared to grab his wrist to control the pace.

He followed pretty well what you needed; he started slow before slowly being quicker. But it wasn’t rough for once.

You moved your hips to match the pace, as your face screwed up in pleasure. 

You could even forget where you were, who you were.

The pain was being replaced by relief and pleasure, and you soon came.

But the man wasn’t done with you.

You didn’t complain when you felt two of his thick fingers moving inside of you. His palm was pressed against your clit. He resumed to stroke you, but his fingers were now also pressing against your spot.

He knew your body too much for your own good.

You bit into the pillow to stay quiet as you felt more pleasure washing over you. Your legs were trembling and your toes curling.

Michael was doing you good, his eyes always on you to make sure he was taking good care of you. He loved the power he had on you as well.

The pace was perfect and you were cumming on his fingers in no time.

He continued to pleasure you through your orgasm and you had completely forgotten about the pain now, as you were driven a little bit crazy with the nonstop pleasure.

The man would have continued to play with you all night, if you hadn’t stopped him after the third orgasm.

He reluctantly removed his hand from your sex.

You panted and tried to calm down.

When you looked up at him, he was standing beside you once again.

“Home now?” you asked and he nodded, before grabbing you and carrying you away in a bridal style.

You snuggled into his chest and relaxed. 

“You won’t let Loomis take you away from me, right?” you mumbled.

He looked down at you, not hiding his surprise. He finally shook his head and held you closer.

“Good, because you’re the best painkiller I’ve ever had” you murmured before falling asleep in his tight embrace.

[banditcoyote]

Wrangled and Tangled

Sasuga stood by the sink washing the last of the dishes from tonights meal. She smiled softly to herself as her tail flicked behind her, happy about the sets of cups and plates she had picked out, feeling domesticated and settled looking over the two sets of dishes her and her lover had shared, something about them in the drying rack felt almost romantic to her. But maybe it was just the way the sunset was showing so pink and purple over the water that was making her feel that way, the cool summer breeze blowing in from the open Lanai. She hummed to herself a little as she dried her hand and reached for the first plate, ready to dry them herself, when the dish cloth was plucked out of her hands swiftly.

“Let me take care of that.” Simon said perching himself onto the counter and starting to dry one of their plates.

“All the left overs put away?” she asked leaning against the counters and bringing her wine to her lips.

“Most of them.” he said with a nod. “Except for the second helping I couldn’t resist, which is now residing in my stomach.”  

She laughed lightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a nod, moving to cozy up to him just a little bit, her eyes full of warmth, and maybe a bit of mischief. “Maybe we can enjoy some other things when you’re done putting those dishes away.” She said with a curl to her lips.

Simon returned the smile and took a moment to lean down to kiss her easily, drawing back with a little hum. “I can think of some things for sure.” He added. “But before we get too distracted.” He placed the clean plate down on the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box and placing it on the counter next to her hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Sasuga froze at the sight of the small velvet box and her large eyes went wide, slowly looking up into Simon’s face, searching for the meaning.

Simon at once realizing what she might have thought smiled and blushed. “I know we’ve talked about it, but this is just a promise ring.”  Sasuga let go of the breath she was holding with some relief. He picked the box up and opened it. “See?” inside was a thing gold band with a small rose quartz crystal cut into the shape of a heart that side horizontal to the finger. He reached for her left hand and slid it on to her ring finger kissing it into place. “I love you Sasuga, I know that this might not be perfect, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Sasuga looked to the ring on her finger, feeling tears pull at the corner of her eyes. He hopped down from the counter “Oh no….is it too much? I know we said we weren’t going to do anything, that dinner was enough but-“

She shook her head “Don’t be stupid.” She said choking back her emotions. “I love it. I love you….Thank you.” She looked at the ring again before reaching up to tug on one of his horns pulling him down into a kiss. “Forget the dishes….come on.” She said, her tail already snaking up around his waist to guide him toward their bedroom.

Coyote woke up with a start, staring up into the dark ceiling above him. He contemplated for a moment what that dream could have meant, and his jaw tightened in his face. Did Sasuga sleep with Simon while he was away, it was the only rule he had given. Or maybe that had made the whole thing more enticing for the two of them. Still, why would Sasuga end up with Simon, he had the feeling he was absent, that house not looking familiar to him in the slightest. He closed his eyes again, almost willing it to come back to him, but some of the finer details were already fading from his memory, and all he remembered was the way the pair looked longingly at each other before they kissed. He gave a little growl and pushed himself up quickly to throw on some jeans and a shirt.

“Coyote?” Shishi asked lifting his head from where he was curled up on one of the pillows. “Where are you going?” he asked rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“I’m heading back to the Makai” he told Shishi as he pulled his shirt down over his torso.

The imp eyed the view appreciatively before his senses snapped back to him. “Should I be worried?” he asked knowing of Coyote’s sometimes prophetic dreams, and he wondered if he had some type of vision of Sasuga’s fights. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Coyote shook his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that it’s….” only he wasn’t entirely sure he could begin to really understand it himself. He shook his head “Sasuga’s fine. I just need to see her. I only had that one other show at the end of the week anyway, stay here, I’ll go tell Russell to pack everything up and head on home. You’ll be fine finding a flight right? I mean, stay the night, don’t leave on my account.”

Shishi laughed “Oh it was that kind of dream was it?” he grinned. “Okay, Well, tell her I said hello and get back safely.” He said as he yawned and laid back down to sleep. “I’m sure Kurama and Gatlin will be happy to have me home, if they haven’t torn each other apart yet…”

Coyote slapped on his cowboy hat and grabbed a jacket though he felt his skin burning. “And you remember what we said about this right?” he asked as he headed toward the door.

“My lips are sealed.” Shishi murmured. “Not a word to anyone”

“Especially to Sasuga.” He confirmed hand on the door.

“Especially Sasuga.” Shishi promised “She’d probably be more upset with me than you anyway” and waved him off.

Coyote found himself easily at his ring manager’s trailer, pounding on the door. He felt bad to be waking Russell up like this but he knew he couldn’t just disappear in the middle of the night and leave Shishi to explain for  him, things looked weird enough having him around. Russell answered the door, looking as if he was still blinking back sleep. “Coyote, everything alright?” he asked looking around.

“No…Um no, there was a fire back at the ranch.” He said lying on his feet. Thinking easily of the fire at Thom’s he could use as a cover even if the time line wouldn’t match up. He figured it would never get back to Russell anyways. The manager looked concerned. “It’s nothing big, a small one thank god, no one hurt, but I really should get out there, I know we only have the exhibit at the end of the week so I was just going to head home now. Would that be too much of a pain for ya’ll to handle?”

Russell cleared the sleep from his eyes with his hand “Yeah, yeah I can handle it no problem. Take care, hope it’s as small as you say.” He said and headed back to his bed.

Coyote made one more stop, saying farewell to Poncho in his trailer, before he headed towards the nearest portal in the woods, which was still pretty far, and Coyote had to be careful no one saw him as he slipped into the woods and transformed, having to sprint as fast as he could to reach the portal before daylight. He was glad he had the foresight to try and keep his motorcycle as close to him as possible, as the only other way he could have gotten there was to fly back home and then race to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being on a plane the way he was feeling.  All cooped up without being able to run or move, or do anything. It would have been torture, not like the past few weeks hadn’t been. The time away from Sasuga had been harder than he’d like to admit, and he already knew he would never plan on being away from her like this again. All the time away from her he had felt like pulling his skin off. He had helped Thom around her house before he left, and at the rodeo he did more of the manual work than anyone really wanted him to. He ran Poncho as often as he felt he could without causing the poor animal too much strain, and then would run laps as fast as he could as long as he could well into the night. But it was never enough, the women that tried to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the rodeo corral still enticed him to the point he had to nearly run back to his RV. All that hair, perfume, and how the hell where they making such good bras now adays? Though he was sure that some of breasts out there weren’t only held up by a bra but maybe some type of surgery, that didn’t sway him away any. Then the fact that in some of the more populous areas there were actual demon women in the crowds, and those he really had to avoid. He was sure they’d sense something about him, and he was doing his best to be incognito. Luckily his prior years of fooling around with plenty of the women at these things rarely had any of his crew spotting him being social, so now that he was hiding out on his own it went unnoticed. Coyote tried to run himself ragged, exercise, the rodeo, his variety of plants and a few sex toys paired unironically with the body pillow he had snuck on board, none of it had done the exact trick. Which had then led him to call Shishi. It had been a long shot, but it didn’t take much convincing getting him to come out to see him in secret, even if he was a bit miffed at having to mostly stay hidden at the events. Coyote let him have the pass into where the wives or girlfriend’s normally sat, and he posed in his refinery during the events when it fancied him. It had helped tire him out, but he still hadn’t been getting enoug

He thought he could remain out here for the full month, and they had gotten so close, it was almost silly to run now. But after the dream with her and Simon he just couldn’t deny the ache he felt for his mate any longer and he had to find his way back to her. Dawn was just about to break as he reached the portal and he wasted no time heading through it and heading towards where he had hidden his bike. He felt like a dog that had gotten a scent, and he wasn’t going to rest until he got to her. **** Four days later still hours from dawn, Coyote stashed the bike behind the hotel, barely taking care to hide it, and stumbled into the lobby. He had all the faith in the world that Sasuga was still in the tournament, and held the most hope that meant she was still in the hotel room that he had the key stashed for. He limped into the lobby where the clerk paled at the site of him. “Sir….” He said rushing around the desk and towards him. “Do you need a medic?” he asked looking him over.

Coyote didn’t waste the energy to speak to him and only shook his head as he stumbled forward before catching his balance again. He knew what he looked like, but wasn’t stopped as it was clear the clerk in his pristine uniform was afraid to touch him at all.

“Is there someone I can call?” he said walking along side him as Coyote shuffled to the elevator, bracing himself against the lobby wall and causing a smear of blood to press into the wall paper.

Coyote considered it for a moment, but shook his head again. If Sasuga was still in the tournament this late in the game there was a chance she was injured as well, and he wanted her to save her strength for fighting. He’d be okay. He just needed a shower, some stitches, and her.

The clerk did not follow him into the elevator, being the main hotel for the tournament he was surely not the only injured guest they received, and he retreated back to their desk, probably to call for maintenance to clean up whatever other mess Coyote had left behind him. He leaned against the wall as it started it’s ascension toward the upper floors, again leaving a smear of dirt and blood where his shoulder braced himself. A few droplets of blood dripping from somewhere onto the floor. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach it’s destination, the doors pausing once as a couple was about to get on, but after seeing him let him go on without a question. Coyote almost passed out, unsure if it was from blood loss or exhaustion, but the dinging and wooshing of the doors riled him, and he staggered out into the hallway. Knowing he was so close to Sasuga spurred him on, and he was relieved to find that the card key still worked. He let himself into the hotel room, finding it dark and quiet and he did his best to move with stealth into the bathroom. He passed the bed and spotted Sasuga sleeping peacefully by herself, he was grateful for this because with the rage that was still somewhat in his veins if he had found Simon with her he might have taken a regrettable action. In that moment iat took everything in him to not simply cover her with himself, though with how dirty he was he knew it would only concern her more. There was blood in his mouth and under his fingernails, matting his hair down and sticking to his hat. Better to clean himself up first, and he shut the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light.

He did his best not to look at himself in the mirror, but finding it a necessity to assess some of the damage. If he had made it this far like this it couldn’t have been too bad. Still he was in rough shape. Not only was his face cut, bruised, and swollen, but he had also lost enough weight that he appeared gaunt under the torn and dirty clothes he wore. He slowly undressed, assessing each wound, fresh bruises forming on top of old ones, some cuts that were still bleeding every time he moved, gashes that would no doubt need to be closed up. He hissed as some of the clothing stuck to him where blood had dried, let his effects fall to the floor, his gun empty and tucked back in his holster, and stepped into the shower letting the water strike at his feet until it was warm enough to step into. He braced himself against the wall, letting it flow over his hair and down his back, feeling the sense of relief start to fill him as well. He had made it, he was close to resting, and he was close to his mate, that was all he could ask for right now.

[yeeunjia]

hello Yeeun!!! i just got new lizards and i'm super happy about it, and it made me wonder what enhypen's reaction to their s/o having/getting a not normal or creepy pet would be (could be spiders, cockroaches, snakes, lizards, etc, whatever ur comfy with!!) if this ask is a bit out of ur comfort zone then pay no mind to it!! i know some ppl don't really like reptiles and bugs 😊

⩩ · (𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍) ✰ REACTION TO THEIR S/O GETTING AN UNUSUAL PET ♡︎ ٫ ot7 x idol!gn!reader | fluff & crack | slight swearing & mentions of bugs + spiders + lizards + snakes !!

𓆩♡𓆪┊ THE WAY THIS REQUEST TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE?? im sorry!

희성 // heeseung

sees you happily walking in the room with a cockroach in your hand. expressions literally went '( 0⌓0)' along with jay's. "what are they doing?...." jay shrugs. "y/n? do you need me to throw that out for you?" heeseung asks and you stare at him in disbelief, making both him and jay confused. "this is ____! managernim allowed me to keep him!" your boyfriend's eyes went wide, "like... A PET??" you pout, "yeah? what's wrong with that?!" you noticed him nervously looking at the cockroach and you grabbed his hand and placed it on his palm. "c'mon, hee. it's not that bad!" heeseung just shrieks, closing his eyes and looking away. jay does the same too <'3

‎‎ਏਓ continue reading / others under cut !! ⸻

제이 // jay

the poor guy just expected you to be on the sofa, playing with your phone after your dance practice. and he saw something he never expected to see instead! he felt like his heart was about to explode when he saw a snake on your arm! but you didn't mind that, there were no signs of discomfort too and it wasn't much of a surprise for jay. he knew that you've always found snaked interesting, after all. "you actually got one?" he plops beside you, giving your forehead a peck before observing your new pet. "of course! do you like it?" the way you smiled almost made him melt. he just nodded. jay soon saw it as your child too :'DD

제이크 // jake

he saw your vlive and how you talked about getting an insect as a pet and jake thought that you weren't being serious. he also found out that you were alone in your dorms so he decided to visit as he wanted cuddles <'3 and when he opens the door to your room- what did he see? his lover holding a mantis. "OH MY GAWD Y/N!!" jake screeches and trips on his own foot. you placed your mantis on the side of your table and rushed to help your boyfriend "jake, you seriously need to keep it down!" you groan and he just tightly wraps his arms around you, peeking at your pet, "y/n....WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???"

성훈 // sunghoon

hoon knew that you planned on going out to finally get a pet. he was having a vlive and you finally came back. fans immediately knew that it would be you so they immediately asked to see you and hoon immediately called you. "y/n also got a new pet! i can't wait to see what they g- HOLY FUC-" his chair falls as soon as he sees you holding a cage with a spider in it. you chuckle, "relax hoon, its in the a cage!" your boyfriend pouts, "but why... a spider?" "it seems unique so why not!" you smile. it would take a few days of convincing hoon to at least just take a look at the poor spider <//3

정원 // jungwon

he saw you talking to txt's soobin! he knew that you two suddenly just became close, but he paid no attention to that. when you finally said your 'goodbyes' , won decided to great his sunbaenim and approached you. "i saw you with soobin sunbaenim earlier." you nod your head, "mhm! i wanted to ask him about a few things!" this is when won became curious, "like...?" you led him to a room, not giving him a clue just yet. "well, i got a pet!" his eyes lit up, visibly feeling excited, "really? what animal?" you flash a smile, "you'll see!!" you took a cage out, revealing the pet. "a hedgehog! i named it ____" jungwon honestly looked more excited than you. he immediately went closer to it! "it's cute. cuter than you." he smirks and you pout, "fair enough!"

선우 // sunoo

he's been scrolling thru twitter for hours. a tweet talking about your new pet then catches his attention. you never told him about getting one, after all! he immediately stood up, running to the door and sprinting to your dorms. he had no idea about what the pet was- and when he bursts in your room, he screams. "Y/N- IS THAT LIZARD EATING YOUR HAND!?" you roll your eyes, "firstly- how did you even get in here!? and no! of course not!" the poor boy seemed terrified but then even proceeds to be interested in it! he would even act like its parent after a few days- often asking about it and even giving it a proper eating and sleeping schedule TT

니키 // niki

this boy is absolutely fearless (stan le sserafim <'3). he loves exploring things as well- so he can't help but feel excited when you told him that you got a stick bug. he searched it up and honestly found it cool! barges in your room and immediately plops down beside you, staring at your new pet. he'd ask to touch or hold it right away! he'd also ask TONS of questions! niki probably posts about it more too

ENHYPEN MASTERLIST // REQUESTS & MESSAGES  ʚ♡ɞ

ও. PERMANENT TAGLIST (open) : @kpoplover718 (side note: i am NOT sure if those who asked to be in my permanent taglist when i didn't have one yet still wants to be added which is why they aren't included here yet! still, do feel free to send an ask or dm me if you still wish to be added <3)

[danger-noodle-uwu]

I'm new to tumblr so is this how you do request? May I request the brothers forgetting mc's birthday and later remembering it. How would they react? Maybe they were busy or something. Your choice if you wanna do the dateables too.

Trigger warning

Mentions of Angst/sad/slight comfort

Lucifer

Busy almost all the time, the first-born barely spent time with our dear Mc. He would try to finish the work only for more to be slammed on his desk.

Never would his brothers acknowledge his efforts or the sacrifices he made for them. Instead they'd mock him. Mock him for being absent at all family times. Mock him for doing what he does.

It was once again such a time, such a day. They didn't bother to care what the day has held for his beloved. It was their birth.

The birth of the one who truly changed his life along with his brothers. It was such a blessing yet he forgot about it. Entirely.

The Avatar of pride was strong, Lucifer wasn't. He was weak. Vulnerable. Especially against his brothers whom he adored with his entire being.

And the mocking words had stabbed him deeply, which made his current state as to how it was. Drunk. Wounded. Crying.

Rubbing his eyes, he awoke to a mess of his office which screamed the need for cleanliness.

During the process, he found the calender. A sweet calender gifted him by his doll.

A smile had crept on his face as he lifted it for what? Perhaps to calm the unsettling feeling in his bones that told him to run but where he didn't know?

While their lover was, Mc wilted much like a delicate flower would if the sun stopped shinning, they were laying curled on the floor of his room. Mc needed him.

How could he forget his own lover's birthday?! even after he promised... it hurts.. so much...

Yesterday. The poor human cut the cake wished themselves a happy birthday when he didn't...crying...in pain...

The realization hit hard. He ran to Mc's room as fast as he could. A shiver ran his spine and the horror in his stomach grew as each and every step was taken.

Yet could not find them, so he went over to his office expecting a fuming Mc.

He was once again not right, for his beloved was breaking down as he took them into his arms. Consoling.

He apologised and comforted them. Reassuring them over and over again. Reminding them his heart still is with them and no-could ever take it away.

He later threw a party, just like how you wanted. You. Him. And the growing fragrance of the candles surrounding you both.

Though late as it may have been, it was the best birthday the innocent human had. Smiling while he kissed your knuckles, he asked for your hand in marriage.

Never had you expected this...

"I Found the reason for my smile, the day I found you. Will you let me be the reason for your smile and marry me, my love?"

Mammon

As most had expected, he forgot your birthday due to witches or the modeling gig, he did not.

Instead he forgot about preparing your birthday gifts. His excitement had always gotten the best of him.

The Avatar of greed did not have enough budget to prepare the gift you dearly wished for, therefore multiple part-time jobs and skipping RAD became more often.

Despite the scolding, he didn't bother and worked on, just imagining the smile you'd make once you saw what he got you.

''I'll make Mc smile. Just one more hour extra and the budget would be*chef's kiss* '' he thought as his co-workers packed their belongings up.

It was late night and the moons shined brightly over the streets of devildom however he wasn't much worried because it was not like your birthday the next day. (it was)

Stretching his arms, he woke up around 1:35 pm due to his fucked up sleep schedule, only to be greeted by your excited figure cuddling him.

Grey-haired demon thought it was the Delirium before the day itself. He was wrong.

At first he acted totally oblivious to the fact any special day was just around the corner. He knew that surprises even more better!!

And then your great mammon ignored you for a while to rid of the risk of you following him to the destination.

Though his plan was to get your hopes down, he ended up making you cry. It hurts a lot especially when the love of your life forgets your birthday afterall you gave him everything he wanted on his.

The visit was successful. He even had extras left to treat you!!!

The was big achievement for someone who hated working to the slightest, to work for 3 weeks and multiple jobs!!!

But before he left, the seller mocked him about being a damned day late for this gift could have been sold at a better price if not booked.

That is when it all clicked and he panicked. Today was your birthday! Oh shit!!

He rushed home back to you. As he ran, he planned how to ask for your forgiveness.

" Oi Mc I'm sorry!--Oh hell no!!" "Mc I fucked I am sorry, please forgive afterall I'm your first man.--fuck this shit imma just play smooth."

Panting, he paused right before the door of your room and knocked lightly. Seeking your permission to enter.

You lazily opened the door for him, tired after shedding many tears for him.

Mammon instantly knew what to do. "Oi Mc I'm sorry for not wishing ya' a happy birthday earlier but I was busy buyin you somethin', here darlin' close your eyes."

Hearing his apology, you felt oddly happy and followed his request. Soon you felt a soft cold metal cling to your wrist. A bracelet, huh.?

"Open y'er eyes, human." On your wrist was bracelet that said 'His human' and another matching one was on his wrist which said 'Their stupid' . (Now isn't that adorable?)

"I was savin' up for this, so ya' better appreciate it. Hmph!" Giggling you yelled 'I love you' at him making him blush immediately.

However, when he spoke, he spoke genuinely and not in tsundere.

"Ya' make my life worth living. You bring smiles to my face, and y'er touch shows me how much you love me and care for me. Y'er my friend and my lover. Happy Birthday!"

Leviathan

With envy filled to the brim, Leviathan was very focused upon you and having your attention only for himself. To not let anyone snatch you away for they could better be than him, he'd make notes to treat you like royalty and improve his guilt-tripping habits.

Guilt, regret, shame. His heart screamed within the confines of his chest, as he rubbed your back assuring you that he still loved and will continue to do so.

It was his envy. It had always been his envy. Who always held him captive like a bird in a cage, he struggled to break free. He just couldn't.

The fault was his for if he hadn't given in to the jealousy named poison, you would be happily celebrating your birthday rather than crying in his embrace.

The fault was his for if he hadn't screamed at your friends who just came to congratulate you about getting in a relationship with the demon you very much loved and to wish you a birthday.

They left because of him. Not because he humiliated them but he forgot his own lover's birthday and called them a pathetic cheater, as they didn't feel like reminding of what the day was. They had left off with their friends, returning at HOL at night only to get yelled at.

Caring friends as they were, they tried convincing Mc to leave which his love refused. So, they left pitying the poor human.

No-matter how much Mc begged her companions to stay, they didn't.

Oh the suffering for His Normie, they ran upto him vulnerable-ly and started hitting him weakly, breaking down. Why was he? Why was he like this?! Why must he always leave you crying due to his envy?!

"Hey easy...calm down please, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, please forgive me and I promise I will make everything right. Please." "How..?" "Please trust me. My love." "Are you sure..?" "Yes...yes...I love you..."

Could you really trust his statement? You wondered. He could forget his word much like how he forgot your birthday.

The great admiral of hell's navy was true to his word, and successfully united you again with those who almost abandoned you or it seemed like--but no they were just disappointed. They were never going to do such a thing.

The meet went smoothly, and soon the the sun was setting casting shadows along with dying light, it was a dreamy sight for anyone.

Leviathan had known that he still had to make upto you properly and therefore, he took you to the cosmos of frodane.

Red, blue, yellow, any colour you could possibly think of was there, shining as brightly you were.

Taking in a shaky breath, the Avatar of envy gave you a bouquet, each flower consisting different scent which complimented the other.

The shimmer in your eyes gave you away and he gave you a sweetly addicting kiss while mumuring...

"I always cause some mess. It is never your fault. I’m sorry for making you feel unhappy. I cannot believe that I cause hurt to you. You are my only hope for my life. I promise you that I will do my best to make a better version of myself for you, my 3rd waifu~"

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

And here we go... the pain and the suffering. Lol

Hope you like it and stay safe everyone. ♡♡♡

Have a good day!

[soulwillower]

semi-charming •  bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew

[katacanons]

hii i love a good love letter event. may i have a nsfw letter from kid to an old lover who has left to pursue their own thing? and could it be addressed to gloria pls! thank you!!

Hi Ares!!! thanks for the request. this is the first time I've ever written Kid but I hope you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun writing this!  💜

Kid x fem! OC character

WARNING: Kid and Gloria, a bounty hunter, are former lovers. They haven't seen each other in a while but Kid's curiosity gets the best of him when he sees her in the newspaper. Kid is a little bitter (and a lot jealous), some pining within

Canonverse, Minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT⚠️

CW: NSFW. SMUT. Toxic relationship. Possessiveness. Marking. Unprotected sex. Degradation. humilation (?), name-calling, implied pet play, friends with benefits, open relationship, cursing, spanking, choking, so many other kinks, etc. Low-key stalking

Word count: 680

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Fox,

What is this I’ve been hearing you’re an actress now? 

I was having a fine morning til I got the papers with your face right on the front page.

You may fool the World Government but I know those jewelry when I see them. I know because I made them

“Geneva: Aphrodite Reborn” Has a nice ring to it. Has bounty hunting finally bored you? You never did like commitment

But it sounds a little desperate even for you, don’t you think?

Huh. Way to make things interesting, Gloria

Do those guys you’re with know where those piercings came from? I wonder if they know that you think of me whenever they suck on them

Do they know how you cried like a baby when I pushed the metal through your plump skin?

How you cried and gagged when I pushed my cock deep in your warm, needy throat?

How you got goosebumps whenever I held your body in place at the workshop all naked?  

How you sweetly suggested to wear a metal collar so I can choke you with it with my powers?

How you moaned whenever I ate your little hole out, always so fucking wet and tight and delicious for me? Do you miss my taste, fox? You always seemed too eager to please when it was just the two of us

How you begged me to fill you up nice and swell with my cum, not caring if it’s in your mouth or cunt so long as it’s inside?

How you’d greet me every night by being on all fours at the bed, chest down, ass up with nothing but that fucking thong

That stupid fucking thong you left as the only goodbye the day you disappeared

You were always a tease. Is this one of your games, Gloria?

I wonder if those men know how at the end of every session you’d be too fucked out to clean yourself, my cum marking every inch of your body

How we’d fuck for hours on end we’d lose track of time?

How you’d laugh as you bounced off my cock, lewd sounds coming out of your mouth and pussy, chasing your high. Clawing at my chest while your hot cunt convulsed around me… Dammit

I still have the scars to prove it

How your little mouth would suck at my fingers so damn hard just so the whole crew wouldn’t hear you scream my name outta sheer pleasure? Which I told you was useless when everyone could hear the bed knocking against the wall anyway

Don’t tell me you don’t miss being filled up until I can see that bulge on your stomach as I fucked you raw and rough that your legs gave out? I had to carry you to the tub a dozen times

How I took such good care of you afterwards?

We may have fought all too often for my liking but even you’d be lying if you said our sex life wasn’t fucking fantastic

It’s no use trying to make me jealous, I already know how much you want to see me. Why else would you fucking pull off this stunt? 

Funny. You were always so cold at one point I even convinced myself you didn’t have a heart to begin with. But this is low even for you

By the looks of it, it seems like you forgot all our happy memories. Maybe I’ll forgive you if you can keep up with me

All I need is a day to track you down. Anyone who wants to get in my way can go to hell. I won’t believe anyone til I hear the truth from you. I just know you can’t lie to me, not when you’re too busy being too blissed out from pleasure underneath me. My good little “Aphrodite"

Let me be so kind to remind you again of our fun times. You can just thank me in person with your mouth

I wanna see if your perky little nipples still have those rings on ‘em

I’ll find you

Kid

[chiwhorei]

the folly of man

pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.6k

tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff

a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)

hymn: angel by finneas

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost

He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.

You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?

A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.

Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”

Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.

“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”

The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.

Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.

He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.

“What is your biggest inspiration?”

The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.

Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.

Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.

You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.

“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”

Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.

It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.

Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.

***

There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.

Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.

Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.

“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.

Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.

“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.

Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.

You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.

His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.

Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.

Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.

None stood out to him.

He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.

“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.

“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.

You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.

Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner

The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.

“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.

“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.

“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.

“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.

“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.

You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.

Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.

His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,

“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”

A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.

“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.

“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.

“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.

Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.

You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.

“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.

You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.

There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.

Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.

He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.

He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.

“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.

Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.

He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.

“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.

Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.

You’d let him.

“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.

“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.

He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.

Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.

He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.

The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.

And Enji is a fool in love.

The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.

As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.

Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.

“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”

Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.

“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”

Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”

You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.

“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.

You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.

Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.

He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.

No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.

The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.

It has to be your quirk.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️