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please-destroy · 2 days ago

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Legacy

Natasha Romanoff x Reader + Family

Word Count: 1.7k

You can definitely read this on its own. Or it can follow on from the last few stories I've posted.

You heard the front door slam and winced automatically. Every day seemed to hold another fight between your daughter and your wife.

When Natasha had told you she was picking your daughter up from school, you’d bitten your tongue. You heard the raised voices in the hallway and sighed slowly.

You braced yourself as you rose to join. This didn’t feel like much of a family these days. You felt like more of a peacekeeper than a parent or a partner.

You paused behind the closed door when you heard your daughter yell.

You tried to click pieces into place before you joined them. Something about her hair and her choice.

You heard the low murmur of Natasha’s voice. She always went quiet in fights with your daughter. Some legacy of her past that still made her wary of the impact of raising her voice, of losing her temper entirely.

You couldn’t hear her words but her anger was unmistakable. You opened the door hurriedly. Two pairs of eyes landed on you at once.

Your daughter rushed to get the first word in, as if you were the judge and jury of this argument.

‘I already bought the stuff.’ She told you determinedly. Her fingers gripped her backpack fiercely.

You caught Natasha’s desperate look at you and sighed quietly. Whatever was going on, you knew Natasha was silently asking for your support for a reason.

You tilted your head at your daughter and waited for more information. You hated playing this balancing act.

‘I’m going to dye my hair blue’. Your daughter continued. Her brown eyes flashed suddenly with something that was entirely Natasha.

‘No you’re not.’ Natasha interrupted suddenly from beside you. Her arms moved to cross in front of her. Sometimes, the two of them reminded you more of sisters than mother and child.

There was a pause. You saw the look on your daughter’s face and realised she was trying to prepare herself for her next words. You cringed in anticipation.

‘I know you had blue hair.’ Your daughter accused Natasha abruptly.

The air left the room as you both froze. Your eyes scanned Natasha’s immediately. You hadn’t known that, but you could tell immediately that it was true. Natasha blinked back her obvious shock. You resisted putting an arm around her shoulders. You didn’t want to take sides, but you felt the ache of Natasha’s past like an old wound.

‘I saw the pictures.’ Your daughter added, her arms moving to cross themselves, just like Natasha’s.

An acutely vulnerable and threatened look crossed Natasha’s features. Her eyes were unseeing as more emotions rolled through her. You tensed nervously. She looked murderous. A line had been crossed.

‘Those pictures are private.’ Natasha said in a low voice. A shiver ran down your spine at the sound. ‘You had no right - ’.

‘I’m your kid.’ Your daughter interrupted, her voice rising higher with hysteria. She blinked away her tears angrily.

‘Where are those pictures now?’ Natasha’s voice stayed a growl. You found yourself stepping forward. It was too late to keep the peace, but you felt the situation slipping closer to words that couldn’t be unsaid.

Your hand brushed your daughter’s shoulder.

‘Hey.’ You called calmly and your daughter’s eyes flickered warily up to you. ‘We can talk about dyeing your hair later. Get your mom’s pictures.’

‘No.’

Your jaw clenched in frustration, you took a deep breath. You felt the oncoming explosion, you didn’t know if you could stop it.

You felt Natasha seethe obviously. You loved her well enough to sense how hard she was working to stay cool. You didn’t know the context of the pictures, you were certain of their importance to her.

‘Give them back to me.’ Natasha said one more time, and you knew it was the last warning.

‘I get to have some pieces of you.’ Your daughter declared suddenly. Her voice was wavering obviously, the angry tears still stained her cheeks.

‘You don’t get to have that piece.’ Natasha shook her head fervently. ‘Give me back my fucking photos.’

‘Fuck you.’ Your daughter retaliated, and the words fell out her mouth like she’d been waiting to say it.

Something hardened in Natasha as the words landed, you watched her try and ignore it.

‘Pictures.’ You iterated again, firmly. Your voice stayed level. You knew the unbearable tension couldn’t release from Natasha until she had them back.

You didn’t realise there was more your daughter might say. Her fingers fumbled with the front zipper on her backpack, she rummaged inside and produced a single strip of photos. Your eyes clung to the produced glossy strip of paper as she threw it in the air and floated to the ground.

There were two girls in the pictures and your heart twisted in further understanding. You noted the bright blue hair that caught the eye easily.

Natasha snatched the photos so fast, they hadn’t even reached the ground. You should have anticipated her next move. Your daughter certainly didn’t. Natasha plucked out the box of hair dye from inside her open backpack in one smooth motion.

The outrage in your daughter’s face would have been comical if it didn’t make you so nervous.

‘Fuck you.’ She said again and this time the words came out in a desperately controlled voice. She’d pitched it lower and you wondered if she knew she was imitating her mother.

‘You never wanted me.’ She accused Natasha now, voice cracking. Tears started streaming down her face again as the deeper hurt was exposed.

‘We both know I’m not even yours. Now, you won’t even fucking let me look like you.’

Natasha sagged immediately with the weight of your daughter’s words. You saw the horror and shock weave through her furrowed brows. Her mouth fell open.

Your daughter didn’t see any of it.

She crumpled down to the ground in a motion that ached with familiarity. For a moment, you remembered those first moments of her learning to walk. The strongest part of that memory was Natasha’s smile when your daughter had chosen to stumble clumsily over to her.

You didn’t need to look at Natasha to know she’d felt the words like a sucker punch. You crouched down next to your daughter.

‘You are and have always been the best thing in both of our lives.’ You told her quietly. Your daughter didn’t stop crying. Her arms circled her knees.

Natasha moved closer, hesitancy laced her movements and you could feel the nerves emanating from her. This was everything she’d ever been scared of. You felt her anticipating more rejection from the person who could hurt her most. Your hand moved to brush the back of her nearest leg soothingly.

‘Your mom loves you completely.’ You said simply and your daughter’s chin tilted reluctantly towards you. She shook her head disbelievingly. You saw the deep insecurity and wished desperately to remove it.

‘I always thought I might have children.’ You continued carefully, trying to decide what you could share as you spoke. ‘But, for your Mom, that wasn’t even a dream she was allowed to have.’

Your daughter’s face twisted as she tried to process the words. Her eyes flickered uncertainly up at Natasha. You followed her gaze and caught Natasha’s ashy expression. She was still caught, waiting for more rejection.

‘Do you understand?’ You pressed softly, and your free hand reached out to your daughter’s knee. ‘You are better than she could have ever dreamed.’

You felt Natasha kneel down beside you too, she took the hand you’d had on her leg and held it in hers. Your fingers interlaced automatically and, when she squeezed it, you felt the cool of her wedding ring against your warm palm.

‘Not to mention, you are already so alike. It’s ridiculous.’ You added, letting your tone get lighter. Somehow, just having them sit closer to each other, reassured you.

Natasha outstretched her free hand, with the previous photos purposefully on display to your daughter.

‘You see that other girl?’ She murmured. Her eyes caught yours intermittently, seeking reassurances You squeezed her hand and gave her a careful smile.

Your daughter nodded, silent with the expectation that this was important.

‘She’s my family.’ Natasha stumbled. ‘Or the closest I ever had to it.’ She corrected embarrassedly. She took a shaky breath before continuing.

‘And, that’s why you’re named Yelena. After her.’

Yelena stared back at Natasha, surprise and curiosity entirely replacing her earlier hurt.

‘Where is she now?’ She asked immediately, her voice hoarse from crying.

‘I don’t know. But I love her. You remind me of her every day.’ Natasha answered simply.

I know I’m not your Mom, not biologically.’ Natasha’s eyes met yours and you saw a longing in them that you never wanted to see again.

‘But I want to be.’ She admitted softly.

Your daughter’s hand reached out for her mother’s. Things settled inside your heart, a heaviness lifted from the air.

‘Maybe.’ Yelena started, face filling with a small smile. ‘Maybe I could dye my hair red instead.’

Natasha regarded her with a new softness, the corner of her mouth twitched upwards too. They understood each other so much better than they thought.

You rolled your eyes as you got back to your feet, pulling the pair of them up along with you.

‘Just what I need. Double the trouble.’ You teased, barely able to keep a straight face as Natasha swatted at your arm halfheartedly.

Yelena grinned up at you. Her hand slipped out of yours as she moved to wrap her arms around Natasha’s waist. Her head buried against Natasha’s front. Your daughter was growing up, but she was still so young.

The tentative tenderness in Natasha’s answering hug was more precious than you could ever explain. Her hand slipped out of yours too as she moved to rub light circles on Yelena’s back.

‘I’m really sorry.’ Yelena mumbled.

‘I know.’ Natasha soothed and she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s hair.

Yelena moved back a little and you watched her head tilt up as she regarded Natasha. Natasha smiled familiarly back.

‘Whatever colour you want. I’ll help you dye it.’ Natasha promised her quietly. ‘But, you’re already my daughter. You always have been.'

‘I’m yours.’ Yelena affirmed as her rested back against her mother. Natasha’s lips brushed her hair as she held her tight against her.

The world had finally righted itself and you found yourself sighing in relief.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you

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novaursa · 18 hours ago

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Between Pride and Fire (crossroads)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: flares

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs @barnes70stark

The carved map of Westeros stretched before them, marked with tokens representing their forces, the Greens’ positions, and the uncertain loyalties of lords who had yet to choose a side. Daemon stood at the head of the table, his sharp violet eyes scanning the map with a hawk’s focus, while Jason Lannister stood to his right, his arms crossed over his chest. Both men were visibly tense, their voices low as they debated the next move.

“Corlys and Rhaenys are holding the Gullet well,” Jason said, gesturing toward the token representing the Velaryon fleet. “They’ve blockaded the narrow sea, and with the Driftwood Throne secure, their ships patrol the waters from Driftmark to Blackwater Bay. The Greens won’t be sending reinforcements by sea anytime soon.”

Daemon nodded curtly, his fingers drumming against the table. “Good. But that only holds one flank. The Riverlands remain the key to our cause. Harrenhal must be taken, and the Riverlords must be reminded of their oaths.”

Jason frowned, leaning forward to study the map. “Agreed. But with the queen absent, the Riverlords may hesitate. They’ll want to see her resolve before they commit their swords.”

Daemon’s expression darkened at the mention of Rhaenyra’s absence. “Rhaenyra is grieving,” he said sharply. “She searches the shores for her son, as any mother would. When she returns, her fury will be the fire that ignites this war. Until then, we prepare.”

Jason nodded, though his expression remained grim. “And if she doesn’t return soon? How long can we wait before the Greens press their advantage?”

Daemon’s jaw tightened. “Not long. That’s why we must secure Harrenhal as soon as possible. It will show the realm that the queen’s cause is not stalled, and it will give us a foothold in the Riverlands to rally our armies.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your voice broke through the heavy silence, drawing the attention of both men. You stepped forward, your hands resting on the edge of the table as you met Daemon’s sharp gaze. “Morrath and I are more than capable. My dragon is as large, almost as Silverwing, and I’ve trained with bow and blade for years. I’ll be more useful in the air than any archer or swordsman you have.”

Jason’s head snapped toward you, his green eyes flashing with alarm. “Absolutely not,” he declared, his voice firm. “You’re not flying into a war zone. It’s out of the question.”

You straightened, your own gaze hardening as you looked at him. “Jason, I’m not a helpless girl who needs protecting. I’m a Targaryen. I’ve ridden Morrath since I was fourteen, and I’ve fought alongside you in battle before.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, his frustration evident. “That was different. This isn’t some skirmish in the Westerlands. This is the Riverlands—a region crawling with Greens and traitors. You’d be flying into danger, and I won’t have it.”

Daemon watched the exchange with faint amusement, though his expression remained thoughtful. “She’s not wrong, Lannister,” he said finally, his tone calm but pointed. “A dragon the size of Morrath is a valuable asset, and she’s proven her skill in the air.”

Jason turned his glare to Daemon, his voice sharp. “Don’t encourage her, Targaryen. She’s my wife, and I’ll not see her risk her life for something that can be done without her.”

You stepped closer to Jason, your tone firm but not unkind. “Jason, you trust me to stand by your side in every other matter. Trust me now. Morrath and I can make a difference.”

Jason shook his head, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re not going, and that’s final. I’ll not have our children lose their mother because she felt the need to play the warrior.”

“I’m not playing,” you snapped, your voice rising slightly. “This is our fight, Jason. Our children’s future depends on it. I won’t stand idly by while you and Daemon risk everything.”

Daemon raised a hand, his voice cutting through the debate. “Enough. Jason is right. You’re not going to the Riverlands.”

You turned to him, your eyes narrowing. “Daemon—”

He held up a finger, silencing you with a look. “This isn’t about your capabilities. It’s about the perception of the realm. If you fall, the Greens will spin it as weakness, and we cannot afford that. You’re needed here, for Rhaenyra and for your children.”

Jason exhaled sharply, clearly relieved by Daemon’s agreement. “For once, we’re in accord,” he muttered.

You glared at both men, your hands clenched at your sides. “Fine,” you said tightly, though the anger in your voice was evident. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll just sit and wait if things go awry.”

Daemon smirked faintly, though there was no humor in his eyes. “We wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Jason placed a hand on your arm, his grip firm but gentle as he met your gaze. “You’re staying here, with our family. That’s where you’re needed most.”

You pulled away from his touch, turning your attention back to the map. The fire in your chest burned hot, but you knew they wouldn’t be swayed. For now, you’d remain on Dragonstone—but you swore to yourself that if the tide turned, you’d do whatever was necessary to protect your family and the queen’s cause.

Daemon straightened, his gaze sweeping over the gathered lords. “Once Rhaenyra returns, we’ll march. The Riverlands will know the might of House Targaryen.”

The lords murmured their assent, though the tension in the room lingered as the plans solidified. And though you said nothing more, your mind churned with the weight of what was to come. The Riverlands would soon see fire and blood, and you’d ensure that the legacy of your house endured—no matter the cost.

The skies above Dragonstone were heavy with gray clouds, the threat of rain looming as the sharp cries of dragons filled the air. From the courtyard, the returning forms of Vermax, Vaelora, and Silverwing came into view, their wings slicing through the mist like blades. The sight brought a strange mix of relief and uncertainty to the castle—relief that the children had returned, and anxiety at what news they might bring.

You stood beside Jason, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, watching as the dragons descended. The weeks had felt like an eternity since Rhaenyra’s return with only a broken wing of Arrax, her grief a palpable weight that hung over the castle like a storm. Now, the return of your daughters and Jacaerys brought a flicker of hope, though it was dampened by the shadows that lingered in everyone’s hearts.

As the dragons landed, their riders dismounted quickly, Vermax roaring low as Jacaerys stepped forward, his face a mask of sorrow. Leona and Aemma followed close behind, both cloaked in crimson and gold, their expressions wary but composed. Jason took a step forward, his eyes fixed on his daughters, though his usual confident demeanor was tempered by the weight of the moment.

“Leona,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you broke into a run. “Aemma.”

Your daughters turned at the sound of your voice, and for a moment, the guarded expressions they wore melted away. Leona was the first to step forward, her golden mask reflecting the dim light as her arms opened to meet you. You enveloped her in a fierce hug, your hands clutching at the fabric of her cloak as though to ensure she was truly there.

“I’m here, Mother,” Leona murmured, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “We’re both here.”

Jason was just behind you, his strong arms wrapping around Aemma as she reached for him. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders trembling slightly as he murmured quiet reassurances, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“You’re safe,” Jason said, his voice thick with relief. “Thank the gods, you’re safe.”

Aemma pulled back slightly, her wide eyes meeting her father’s. “We did as the queen commanded, Father. We spoke with the lords of the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale. They’ve pledged their support.”

Leona added, her voice sharper but laced with exhaustion, “The North stands firm with us. Lord Stark gave his word—and his men. The Riverlands will follow once Harrenhal is secured.”

Jason nodded, though his hands didn’t release Aemma. “You’ve done well, both of you. But this was not an easy task. You should never have had to carry it.” His green eyes flicked toward you briefly, a shared understanding passing between you.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you cupped Leona’s face, her mask cool beneath your fingers. “Both of you. You’ve proven yourselves as strong as the dragons you ride.”

Leona smiled faintly, her pride shining through the weariness in her posture. “We did what was needed, Mother. For the queen—and for our family.”

Jacaerys, who had lingered behind, stepped forward then, his gaze sweeping over his mother’s chamber window high above. His face was pale, grief etched into every line of his features. “I must go to her,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with pain.

Jason nodded, stepping aside to give him passage. “Go to your mother, Jace. She needs you now.”

Jace inclined his head and made his way toward the stairs leading to the private chambers. The weight of his grief was evident in every step he took, his shoulders sagging beneath the burden of his loss.

Leona and Aemma exchanged a glance before turning back to you and Jason. “How is she?” Leona asked, her voice quieter now. “The queen?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the darkened window of Rhaenyra’s chambers. “She grieves still,” you admitted. “But she holds on—for all of us.”

Jason placed a hand on Leona’s shoulder, his touch grounding. “And now, you’re here. That will give her some strength.”

Aemma stepped closer, her voice small as she asked, “What of Lucerys? What happened to him?”

Jason’s face darkened slightly, and his grip on her shoulder tightened. “He’s gone,” he said quietly, his voice heavy. “Arrax was torn apart above Storm’s End. Rhaenyra found only a broken wing on the shores.”

Aemma’s lips trembled, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “The Greens…” she began, but her voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Leona’s jaw tightened, her amber eyes blazing behind her mask. “They’ll pay for this,” she said sharply, her tone cold. “Aemond will answer for what he’s done.”

Jason exchanged a glance with you, his own frustration mirroring hers. “And he will,” he said firmly. “But for now, you both need rest. You’ve done more than enough.”

You nodded, pulling them both into another embrace. “Come. Let’s get you inside. You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”

As the four of you began to make your way back toward the keep, the weight of the weeks apart and the grief of what had been lost hung heavy in the air. But for the briefest moment, the relief of having your daughters home was enough to push back the encroaching darkness. Together, you would face whatever came next. Together, as a family.

The Painted Table glowed faintly under the light of the many torches burning in their sconces. Around it stood the most trusted of Rhaenyra’s council: Daemon, Jason, and you at one side; Jacaerys, Leona, and Aemma at the other. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of the war that loomed ever closer.

Jacaerys stood at the head of the table, his shoulders squared but his expression tight. He was clearly trying to present himself as composed, but the strain of his grief and the enormity of the task before him lingered in his violet eyes. Beside him, Leona stood tall and steadfast as she offered him silent support.

Daemon leaned forward, his palms flat against the table as his sharp gaze swept the room. “Well, boy?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Do the Vale, the Riverlands, and the North stand with the queen?”

Jace nodded, though his hesitation was evident. “Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support, though…” He glanced toward Leona before continuing. “She asked for a dragon to strengthen her position in the Vale. She believes a dragon would solidify her rule and deter any rebellion.”

Daemon smirked faintly, tilting his head. “Of course she does. And what did you tell her?”

Jace’s jaw tightened slightly. “I told her we would consider it. The Vale’s loyalty is crucial, and if the queen decides it’s worth the price, we can spare a dragon egg.”

Daemon grunted but said nothing, his expression unreadable as he turned his attention back to the table. “And the Riverlands?”

“The Tullys may need more persuasion,” Jace admitted reluctantly. “Lord Grover Tully is old and cautious. He wavers, though his heirs may be more easily swayed. The Riverlands are divided, but they’ll fall in line once Harrenhal is secured.”

Jason’s green eyes narrowed. “And the Ironborn?”

Aemma stepped forward, her voice calm but determined. “The Greyjoys will not be a problem, Father. Silverwing flew over the Iron Islands, and it was enough to remind them of what dragons can do. They won’t rebel—not now.”

Daemon chuckled darkly, clearly pleased. “Good. Fear is a language the Ironborn understand well.”

Then, Daemon’s attention turned to the northernmost part of the map, his hand brushing over the carved figure of Winterfell. “And the Starks? Did the wolf remember his oaths?”

Jace hesitated, glancing at Leona and Aemma. The three exchanged a brief look, one heavy with unspoken meaning, before Leona stepped forward, her voice even and composed. “Lord Cregan Stark promised ten thousand Greybeards. They will march south when the time comes, but winter is upon the North, and he cannot spare the rest of his forces until it passes.”

Daemon frowned, though his tone remained measured. “Typical Northerners. Stubborn as stone and just as slow. Anything else?”

Jace glanced toward Jason, his voice quieter as he spoke. “There is… another matter.” He hesitated, looking briefly to Aemma, who shifted uneasily beside him. “To further strengthen the ties between the North and the South, an agreement was made.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What agreement?”

Jace’s gaze darted toward Leona, as though hoping she would intervene, but it was Aemma who stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. “I am to marry Lord Cregan Stark, once I come of age.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

Jason’s reaction was immediate and visceral. His expression twisted into something akin to horror and disbelief, his hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You what?” he said sharply, his voice rising.

Aemma raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Father, please—”

“No,” Jason snapped, stepping around the table to face her directly. “Absolutely not. This is madness! You’re not marrying a Stark.”

“Father,” Aemma began again, her voice calm but insistent, “Lord Cregan is an honorable man. He is strong, wise, and loyal. This union will strengthen the queen’s cause—”

“I don’t care if he’s the Seven reborn,” Jason interrupted, his voice tight with emotion. “You are my daughter. My child. I will not have you sent to the frozen North like some pawn on a chessboard.”

Daemon, who had been watching the exchange with growing amusement, leaned back in his chair with a smirk as he turned to you. “It seems your lion has found his roar, niece.”

Jason shot him a glare, but Daemon only chuckled, clearly enjoying the display.

“Father,” Aemma pressed, her tone growing more insistent. “This was not a decision made lightly. Lord Stark offered this alliance, and it was the right choice for the realm. I agreed because I believe in this cause. Please, trust me.”

Jason stared at her, his jaw working as he struggled to find the words. His green eyes flicked to you, his expression a mix of frustration and desperation. “And you?” he asked, his voice softer but no less strained. “Do you approve of this?”

You hesitated, your heart aching at the sight of his turmoil. “Jason,” you said gently, stepping closer, “Aemma is right. This union will solidify the North’s loyalty, and Cregan Stark is a good man. He will honor and protect her.”

Jason turned away, running a hand through his curls as he muttered under his breath. “Protect her? The North is a wasteland. What protection does she need in a place where the snow never melts?”

“Enough,” Daemon said, his voice cutting through the tension. His amused smirk had faded, replaced by the sharp authority of a commander. “The decision is made. The North stands with us, and Aemma’s betrothal will ensure that alliance holds.”

Jason clenched his jaw, his shoulders taut with frustration, but he said nothing further. Aemma stepped forward tentatively, placing a hand on his arm. “I promise, Father,” she said softly. “This is what I want. Please don’t be angry with me.”

Jason sighed heavily, his hand covering hers as he finally looked at her. “I could never be angry with you,” he said quietly, though his voice was laced with sorrow. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like this.”

Aemma smiled faintly, relief flickering in her eyes. “Thank you, Father.”

Daemon leaned back against the table once more, his smirk returning as he addressed the room. “Well, now that that’s settled, shall we move on to the part where we burn Harrenhal to the ground?”

Jason shot him another glare, but this time, he said nothing.

Jason stood near the window of your chambers, his back to you, his hands gripping the edge of the stone sill as he stared out into the night. His shoulders were taut, his hair disheveled from the way he’d raked his hands through it repeatedly since you’d entered.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him silently for a moment, your own emotions swirling within you. The news of Aemma’s betrothal to Lord Cregan Stark had been a blow to both of you, though you were trying to find solace in the fact that your daughter had made the decision herself. Still, Jason’s reaction had been far more volatile, his protective instincts battling with the political reality of the situation.

“Jason,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He didn’t turn, his voice low and tight as he replied. “How could you stand there and agree to this?”

You sighed, rising from the bed and moving toward him. “Because it wasn’t my decision to make, Jason. Aemma is no longer a child. She made a choice—for herself and for the queen’s cause.”

Jason finally turned, his green eyes blazing with frustration. “She shouldn’t have had to make that choice,” he said sharply. “She’s barely more than a girl, and now she’s to be shipped off to the frozen North to marry a man she barely knows.”

“She knows enough,” you countered gently, reaching for his arm. “Cregan Stark is honorable, Jason. He’ll treat her well.”

Jason pulled away, pacing the length of the room with restless energy. “That’s not the point,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again. “She’s our daughter. She deserves more than being used as a tool in this damned war.”

You stepped closer, your voice soft but firm. “And do you think I don’t feel the same way? Do you think I don’t wish we could shield her from all of this? But that’s not the world we live in. She made a decision, Jason. A wise one. One that shows just how much she’s grown.”

Jason stopped, his gaze meeting yours, his frustration giving way to a flicker of pain. “She’s too young,” he said quietly, his voice cracking. “Too young to leave us. Too young to face the cold and the wolves of the North.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him, the strong, confident Lord of Casterly Rock brought low by the thought of losing his daughter. You reached for him again, this time taking his hands in yours and holding them tightly. “She’s strong, Jason,” you said softly. “She’s your daughter. She has your courage and your fire.”

Jason let out a heavy sigh, his head bowing slightly. “And what of us?” he murmured. “How do we watch her go? How do we let her fly to a place we may never see again?”

You stepped closer, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you tilted his head to meet your gaze. “Because we raised her to be strong. To make her own choices. And because we trust her to find her way.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his green eyes searching yours. “You’re proud of her,” he said quietly, though it wasn’t a question.

You nodded, your lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile. “I am. And I know you are too, even if you can’t admit it right now.”

Jason exhaled sharply, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “How do you always manage to make me see reason, even when I don’t want to?”

You smiled softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Because you love me,” you murmured against his mouth. “And because you know I’m right.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, though it was tinged with sadness. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he buried his face in your hair. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I hate that this war is tearing our family apart.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hands smoothing over his back in a soothing gesture. “But we’ll endure it, Jason. Just as we always have.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands framing your face as he kissed you again, this time with more desperation. You returned the kiss, your arms looping around his neck as you poured every ounce of comfort you could into the embrace. For a moment, the weight of the war, the grief, and the uncertainty melted away, leaving only the two of you.

When you finally parted, Jason rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and rough. “Promise me we’ll find a way through this. That we’ll see all our children safe again.”

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint stubble there. “I promise,” you said softly. “We’ll see this through.”

Jason sighed deeply as he held you close, his forehead still resting against yours. The weight of his earlier frustrations seemed to lift slightly in your embrace, but his expression remained pensive. His fingers absently traced the curve of your waist as though grounding himself in the moment.

“There’s something else,” he murmured, his voice hesitant.

You pulled back slightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Something else?”

Jason hesitated, clearly reluctant to speak, before he let out a humorless chuckle. “Daemon. Your charming uncle keeps insisting that when Rhaenyra gives the word, I fly with him atop Caraxes to Harrenhal.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickering across your face. “Caraxes? He means to take you with him still? I thought you talked him out of that.”

Jason shook his head, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Apparently not. Daemon Targaryen isn’t a man who easily forgets his plans—or relents once he’s set his mind to something. And for some gods-forsaken reason, he insists I go with him.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head in disbelief. “He must have a great deal of respect for you, Jason. Daemon doesn’t suffer fools or cowards. That’s a high compliment.”

Jason snorted, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “If this is his way of showing respect, I’d rather he didn’t. I’d rather face a battlefield than be strapped to that damned saddle with your uncle. Caraxes is terrifying enough; flying with Daemon is a whole other level of madness.”

You smiled, a playful glint in your eye as your fingers moved to the laces of his tunic. “Flying on dragonback with my uncle to take an old, haunted castle does sound dangerous. And a long trip, no less.” You tugged at the laces, your voice softening into a teasing lilt. “We should make the most of the time we have in the meantime. Don’t you think?”

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment as he processed your words, but then a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. His hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Are you suggesting we spend some quality time together, my love?”

“Am I not always full of good suggestions?” you replied with a smirk, slipping his tunic off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Besides, you might need the memory of this when Daemon inevitably throws you off Caraxes to suit his own plans.”

Jason laughed, his earlier tension melting away as his hands moved to the laces of your gown. “If that happens, you’ll need to avenge me,” he teased, his voice low and warm. “But perhaps I can convince your uncle not to kill me with the promise of your wrath.”

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up to rest on his bare chest. “Oh, Jason. You’ll survive Daemon’s schemes—if only to come back and gloat about it.”

His hands worked deftly at the laces of your gown, his smile turning wicked. “Well, if I do survive, it’ll only be because I have such a remarkable wife who keeps me grounded—and distracted.”

“Distracted?” you repeated with a mock frown, your hands tangling in his curls. “Is that what this is?”

Jason leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “Always, my love.”

The kiss deepened, his hands sliding the fabric of your gown down your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet. You pressed against him, your earlier amusement giving way to the intensity of the moment. Jason’s fingers traced your bare skin, his touch both gentle and possessive as he guided you toward the bed.

As he laid you down, his green eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and affection. “You’ll keep me sane through all of this,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Through the war, through Daemon’s madness… through everything.”

You cupped his face, pulling him down to kiss him again. “And you’ll do the same for me, Jason. Always.”

The rest of the world faded away as his lips trailed down your neck, his hands exploring your body with the familiarity of a man who had loved you deeply for years. For a time, there was no war, no council, no dragons or castles—only the two of you, lost in the solace of each other.

His body moved against yours with a fervent, familiar rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through you. His hands gripped your hips with a possessive urgency, pulling you closer as though he could never have enough of you.

You arched beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you gasped, your voice breaking through the charged air. “Jason… even before we met, I thought you were unbearably annoying.”

He stilled for the briefest of moments, just enough to raise his head and smirk down at you. His green eyes gleamed with amusement and that ever-present arrogance that hadn’t faded over the years. “Did you now?” he teased, his voice rough but laced with smugness. “And yet here we are, my love, with you beneath me, calling my name.”

You rolled your eyes, though the fire in his gaze sent a thrill through you. “You were too arrogant. At the hunt—before we even spoke properly—you strutted about like you owned the world.”

Jason leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was both mocking and tender. “And yet you dared to insult me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “Without a hint of fear or decorum, and you didn't send me away. That’s when I knew what I wanted.”

Your laugh turned into a gasp as he thrust into you again, his movements wild and untamed. “You didn’t care at all, did you?” you managed to say, your voice trembling with both exasperation and pleasure.

“Not a bit,” Jason replied smugly, his hands sliding up your body, tracing every curve. “You can call me arrogant, unbearable, whatever you like. It changes nothing. I knew the moment you opened your mouth that you were mine.”

His words sent a shiver through you, and your response was lost in the throes of passion as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. Your hands tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as your bodies moved together with a frantic, desperate need. The years had done nothing to dull the fire between you—it burned as brightly as it had the first time you had been together, igniting every nerve and consuming every thought.

“Jason,” you gasped, your voice breaking as you clung to him. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back to me—to our family.”

He groaned softly, his movements slowing for a moment as he met your gaze, his green eyes fierce and unyielding. “You think I’d let Daemon throw me off a saddle and die before I’ve had my fill of you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “Never.”

“Promise me,” you insisted, your hands framing his face, pulling him closer. “I need to hear you say it.”

Jason grinned faintly, his lips brushing yours before murmuring, “I promise, my love. Though I’ll admit, it’s mostly because the idea of leaving you and our children in Daemon’s care terrifies me more than war ever could.”

You huffed a laugh, your eyes bright even as tears threatened to spill. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he replied, his voice softening as he kissed you deeply, stealing the breath from your lungs.

His pace quickened again, and the two of you lost yourselves in each other. Your nails raked down his back as his name left your lips in a broken cry, his hands gripping your thighs as though anchoring himself to you. His movements were wild and unrelenting, a desperate, consuming passion that spoke of years of love and desire that had only grown stronger with time.

When the peak finally came, it was like a storm breaking—a chaotic, beautiful release that left you both trembling in its wake. Jason collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as the two of you lay tangled together, your breathing heavy and uneven.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the crackling of the fire and the steady beat of Jason’s heart beneath your ear. Finally, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “I’ll come back to you, I swear it. Nothing will keep me from you.”

You closed your eyes, your hand resting over his heart. “You’d better, Jason Lannister. Or I’ll ride Morrath myself and drag you back from the Seven Hells.”

Jason chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. “I’d expect nothing less from you, my fierce dragon.”

The hollow interior of Dragonmont echoed with the low growls of restless dragons, the air thick with the heat of volcanic vents. The massive cavern was dimly lit by the flickering glow of molten lava that seeped through cracks in the stone. You stood beside Jason, your hand resting lightly on his arm, though your grip tightened when the sound of heavy wings reverberated through the chamber.

Ahead of you, Daemon stood with the poise of a man entirely at ease in the presence of dragons. His sharp eyes were fixed on the crimson form of Caraxes as the dragon slithered into the chamber, his elongated neck snaking through the air like a serpent. A handful of Dragonkeepers trailed behind, their expressions reverent as they guided the beast closer.

Caraxes let out a low, guttural rumble, his golden eyes gleaming in the low light. His saddle had been altered, now featuring two seats instead of one—a sight that sent a pang of unease through you. Jason shifted beside you, his jaw tightening as he stared at the monstrous dragon.

Daemon turned to face the small gathering, his silver hair catching the faint glow of the lava. His gaze settled on Jason, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Lannister,” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly in the cavern. “You and I will take Harrenhal. We’ll secure it and hold it until the queen’s armies arrive.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, his green eyes narrowing as he took a step forward. “Just the two of us?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “How exactly do you plan to take and hold Harrenhal with just two men?”

Daemon’s smirk widened slightly, his confidence unwavering. “We’ll have Caraxes,” he replied simply, as though the dragon’s presence alone was answer enough.

Jason let out a sharp breath, muttering something under his breath about the Targaryen penchant for madness. He turned toward you and your daughters, his expression softening as his gaze lingered on each of you in turn. “Well,” he said quietly, “it seems I’m off to seize a haunted castle with your uncle and his overgrown lizard.”

Leona stepped forward, her amber eyes gleaming behind her golden mask. “You’ll come back,” she said firmly, though her voice carried the weight of her concern. “You always do.”

Jason managed a faint smile, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s the plan, my little lioness. And while I’m gone, you’ll keep your mother in line, won’t you?”

Leona smirked faintly, though her lips trembled ever so slightly. “If I must.”

Aemma moved closer, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. “Be careful, Father,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Jason knelt slightly, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I will,” he promised, his voice gentle but firm. “And you’ll look after your sister and mother while I’m gone. Deal?”

Aemma nodded quickly, her wide eyes brimming with tears. Jason straightened, turning back to you with a faintly forced smile. “And you,” he said, his voice dropping as he stepped closer, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Don’t let my absence drive you mad.”

You reached up, placing your hand over his. “I should say the same to you,” you replied softly. “Come back to us, Jason. No matter what happens, come back.”

“I will,” he promised, his voice rough with emotion. “Even if Daemon tries to throw me off Caraxes, I’ll find a way.”

Behind him, Daemon chuckled, his tone laced with dry amusement. “You’d best hold on tight, Lannister. Caraxes doesn’t take kindly to passengers who lose their nerve.”

Jason shot him a sharp look before returning his attention to you. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, though the anxiety in his voice betrayed his unease.

Daemon turned his gaze to you, his expression softening slightly—an unusual sight. “Guard Dragonstone,” he said firmly. “Guard the queen. She’ll need her strength now more than ever.”

You nodded, your heart heavy as you watched Jason step toward the massive dragon. Caraxes lowered himself slightly, his serpentine body coiling as Daemon climbed into the front seat of the saddle with practiced ease. Jason hesitated for only a moment before following, his movements slower and less certain.

The Dragonkeepers worked quickly to secure the straps, their hands steady despite the immense presence of the beast. Jason glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of determination and longing. Then, with a deafening roar, Caraxes unfurled his massive wings, the wind from the motion whipping through the chamber.

The dragon launched himself into the air, his elongated form twisting as he soared upward through the volcanic shaft. The sound of his wings faded as he disappeared into the sky, leaving the chamber eerily quiet.

You stood there for a long moment, your heart aching as you stared at the empty space where Jason had stood. Leona and Aemma moved closer, their presence a small comfort as you forced yourself to turn away.

Daemon and Jason were gone, and now, all you could do was wait—and hope.

The wind roared around them as Caraxes soared high above the Riverlands, his massive wings slicing through the air with every beat. Jason clung to the saddle behind Daemon, his grip firm but cautious as he adjusted to the surreal experience of riding atop the Blood Wyrm. The landscape below stretched endlessly, a patchwork of fields and forests that blurred together in the dim light of dawn.

Jason leaned forward slightly, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Targaryen,” he began, his tone edged with curiosity. “The second assassin—the rat catcher. Did he escape?”

Daemon’s head turned slightly, though he didn’t look back. “He did,” he replied, his voice calm, though the words carried a sharp undertone. “The rat vanished into the bowels of the Red Keep. But it doesn’t matter. The debt has been paid.”

Jason’s brows furrowed, his tone more pointed now. “You think killing Helaena’s son is payment enough? What about the one who got away? He could still be a threat.”

Daemon scoffed, his grip tightening on the reins as Caraxes tilted slightly in the air. “The debt was son for a son, Lannister. Lucerys is avenged, and the Greens will know the pain we’ve endured. The rat catcher is insignificant.”

Jason frowned, leaning back slightly as he considered Daemon’s words. “Insignificant,” he muttered under his breath, though the roar of the wind drowned out the rest of his thought.

The two lapsed into silence for a time, the only sound the rhythmic beat of Caraxes’ wings and the distant howl of the wind. As the sprawling ruins of Harrenhal came into view, Jason spoke again, his tone shifting to something lighter, though no less deliberate.

“When we reach Harrenhal,” he began, “let me do the talking with Lord Simon Strong. My charm is far more convincing than your... let’s call it directness.”

Daemon barked a short laugh, the sound carried away by the wind. “Charm, is it?” he retorted, his tone dripping with mockery. “The only person who finds you charming, Lannister, is your wife. And even she must have her doubts from time to time.”

Jason smirked faintly, leaning forward again. “I’ve charmed more people than you think, Targaryen. And in case you’ve forgotten, we need Lord Simon and the Strong forces if we’re to hold the Riverlands.”

Daemon didn’t reply immediately, his focus shifting to the dark silhouette of Harrenhal looming on the horizon. When he did speak, his voice was colder, more resolute. “We’re not coming to Harrenhal to negotiate,” he said bluntly. “We’re going in, killing anyone who stands in our way, and taking the castle. If Lord Simon wants to talk, he’ll have to be very convincing.”

Jason sighed heavily, muttering under his breath again, though this time Daemon caught it.

“What was that, Lannister?” Daemon asked, his tone edged with amusement.

Jason raised his voice, his frustration more evident now. “I said you’re about as subtle as a dragon in a dining hall. Maybe if we didn’t kill every potential ally outright, we’d find more people willing to support Rhaenyra.”

Daemon smirked, though his eyes remained fixed on the castle ahead. “Subtlety has its place,” he said, his voice smooth. “But not here. Harrenhal isn’t won with words, Lannister. It’s won with fire and blood.”

Jason shook his head, though his grip on the saddle tightened as Caraxes began to descend. The jagged towers of Harrenhal grew larger with every passing second, their scorched stone walls standing as a grim reminder of the castle’s cursed history.

“Well,” Jason muttered, his voice low but resigned. “If this is how we’re doing it, let’s make it quick. I’d rather not be here longer than necessary.”

Daemon’s smirk widened as he guided Caraxes toward a crumbled section of the castle’s outer wall. “Don’t worry, Lannister,” he said, his tone laced with dark humor. “You’ll be back on the ground before you have time to lose your nerve.”

Caraxes let out a deafening roar as he descended, his massive claws raking against the stone as he landed with a bone-shaking thud. Jason swallowed hard, steeling himself as he prepared to dismount.

“Fire and blood,” Daemon murmured, his voice barely audible over the dragon’s growls.

Jason exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath as he followed Daemon’s lead. “More like madness and mayhem.”

Daemon chuckled, the sound low and dangerous as the two men prepared to take Harrenhal.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #house targaryen #house lannister #between pride and fire #hotd jason #jason lannister #jason x reader #jason x you #jason x y/n

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hanaeriin · 14 hours ago

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MELTiNG SNOW, UNCONDiTiONAL LOVE. kageyama tobio x fem!reader ノ winter holidays , fluff , sfw , established relationship , potential ooc. ノ WC. 1.2k

SYNOPSIS. the coldest season had arrived and the whole nation is on good spirits. On this rare occasion, a simple love story is told under the light snowfall; the heartwarming tale of you and your beloved spending the day away.

NOTE. my submission for @pixelcafe-network 's secret santa event !! a fluffy gift for my dearest little elf, @shouyuus da da dan, hii rain, I'm your secret santa !! surprise? I hope you are because the gift that I've prepared for you is finally here !! it's my first time writing for hq and I'm hoping I get his characteristics right cuz it's been so long since I last watched the anime...>~< also special thanks to my sis for proofreading!!

It was late in the evening in mid-December, one of those unusual days when your boyfriend had the day off. To maximize that precious time, you typically utilize it either by going on dates or relaxing at home based on your mood. At present, you were shopping for groceries when you noticed that it was snowing outside.

“Oh, it's snowing!! The weather prediction was accurate this time!!” You shouted, nearly glowing with happiness at the sight of the winter paradise ahead of you, watching your breath create small clouds in front of you as you talked. The snowflakes danced down from the sky, forming a winter display of small butterflies that appeared truly enchanting. Your ears perked at the gentle crunch of the snow beneath your feet, while the biting cold caresses your cheeks, making them flush.

“It's becoming chillier out here; are you okay with only that?” Your boyfriend, Tobio was strolling beside you, carrying plastic bags in one hand as you twirled around, arms wide open in an ecstatic stance, with snowflakes swirling around you. From the perspective of an outsider, it appears as if you were dancing with the snow, yet to him, your features in the cold could easily make you seem like a fairy.

‘She looks great in white,’ he thought, gazing at you with eyes full of love, and then his face flushed pink as the realization hit him. What was going through his mind just now?!? In the meantime, you, oblivious to his flustered condition, eagerly moved forward to explore the shops, calling out, “Tobio! Check this out! It's a cupcake shop with a Christmas theme!” Your eyes shine like a child's eyes brighten when they encounter something extraordinary.

You exclaimed, indicating another shop before darting away once more, “Whoa! Oh, oh, check that out over there! Isn't the window display in that store incredibly adorable? Oh my gosh, they even have polar bear ones?!”

“Could you slow down a little...?” Tobio was following closely, ensuring he wouldn't lose you in the throngs of people. “If you don't pay attention to where you're headed... you'll find yourself face down on the ground.”

“I'll be fine! I'm not a child or anything—waah?!” After stubbing your toe on the bumpy platform, Tobio grabbed you before you could fall onto the floor. “Haaaaah, I’m fine!” You got up, completely unharmed as if you hadn't just been plummeting to your demise moments earlier...

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head as you grinned, scratching the back of your head. “But Tobio, come and check this out—ACHOO!” You emit a loud sneeze, your nose reddening slightly as you cover it with your right hand. He exhaled deeply, setting the bags onto the snowy platform, gradually peeling off his scarf. “You gonna get catch a cold”

“B-But! You're going to catch a cold as well.” You looked at him with worried eyes.

“It’s okay,” he mutters, his face tinged pink from the chill while you remained frozen in shock as he began to drape the lengthy scarf around your neck, when he finished, he took your free hand before lifting the bags from the icy platform. “Let’s head home.”

You found it hard to look away from him, slowly blinking as a soft blush crept over your cheeks. “Y-Yeah...”

“We're home!” You call out into the vacant corridors, causing a faint echo to ripple across the apartment. It was completely dark when the two of you got back to your home, removing your shoes before heading to the living room to turn on the lights, but something drew your attention and you shouted as if recalling something crucial, “Oh wait, Tobio!! Come over here for a moment!”

“What is that?” You could hear his gentle footsteps nearing the living room, and before long, you could see his head peeking through the doorway.

“Oh...you have one of those warm tables with a cover, a kotatsu?” He gazed at it with shining eyes, appearing as if he was about to plunge in and snuggle up inside; it made you smile softly. “Sure, I figured you would enjoy it since you mentioned staying home for a few days, so I went ahead and bought it at the mall.”

“Wasn't it.... overly priced for you to purchase them?”

“Oh, it's okay... your needs matter more than my wallet, anyway.”

“What was that about?”

“N-Nothing at all...”

Feeling flustered, you attempt to shift the conversation to conceal your embarrassment, “Let's give the kotatsu a try!” You're still chilly from being outdoors for such a long time. You were so thrilled that you quickly sat down under the kotatsu. “Ah, it feels so cozy~”

Tobio couldn't resist chuckling a bit as he watched you sink onto the heating table, settling down himself beneath the cozy blanket. “Would you like a mikan orange?” You take an orange from the little basket in front of you and gradually start peeling it.

“Sure, I'll have one”

“I feel like taking a nap first...I'm feeling all snug and comfortable from this warm kotatsu...”

“Did you forget why we're doing today?”

“But it's so nice here, and I don't want to move yet...” You sulked, using your most sorrowful puppy dog eyes to appear as pitiful as you could.

“Alright...” At that moment, he appears extremely forlorn, resembling a kicked puppy due to his downcast eyes as he gazes at the table before him, intermittently darting glances between you and the kitchen with a look of hope, nearly pleading for your attention. For a large man, his face really affects your poor heart. So unfair. You rose abruptly and moved toward the tall man with an expressionless face.

“W-What is it?” Tobio glanced at you, puzzled by your abrupt shift in emotions, and you quickly kissed him on the lips, surprising him. “You know it's unfair of you to use that face against me”

“Whuh-?”

“Alright, let's head to the kitchen now! Time doesn't pause for anyone!!!”

He could only observe as you quickly dashed to the kitchen, loud sounds echoed from the spot where he was seated.

“She's like a storm...” He couldn't resist smiling gently as he approached you while you scurried around gathering ingredients for a feast. The sound of bare feet echoed on the kitchen floor, darting around quickly as you began to open numerous...and numerous cabinets, trying to grab something concealed within it.

...hence the start of a journey filled with challenges and mistakes, concluding the day with laughter and happiness. The moments shared with cherished individuals embody the real essence of a winter miracle...

#❝ 🌆 ノ hanae's perfume.#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #hq x reader #tobio kageyama x reader

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rednleafff · 11 months ago

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Part 1 out of 2

PART 2

This scene from the lion king never fails to sting my heart and make me tear up till the eventual tragedy, and yet this moment is so important and sweet - I knew I’ll eventually draw it with my favorite father daughter pair Leo and Yummi <3

• Mona is Donnie’s oldest daughter in the AU- meaning , Yummi’s cousin:)

#oh I love them so much #I’m prepared to lose my right arm for them #they are literally my everything #if anything happened to them -#I swear #let’s hope the next part won’t do anything I will regret #🤡#Yummi Hamato #rottmnt Yummi Hamato #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt oc #rottmnt good? future #rottmnt good? future au #rottmnt future Leo #Leonardo Hamato

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tojisun · 9 months ago

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so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly

thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.

it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself��doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.

they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.

it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?

simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”

and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?

if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—

it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.

“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.

“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.

simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…

nothing.

he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.

you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.

simonsimonsimon—

your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.

(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)

you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.

“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.

“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”

his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.

“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”

simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”

he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.

“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”

“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.

simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—

“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.

it’s so good! so, so good!

simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.

fuck! fuck—

sorta pt 02

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #suns #q #giggling omg this is.. filthy #(writing is just as sloppy as reader’s hole—)

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lockheed-martin-unofficial · 3 months ago

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Buckle up, folks, and prepare yourself for spoilers!

Because we’re going to be analyzing this scene today. And I’m going to explain why Starscream could’ve won.

After D-16’s initial attack, Starscream falls back to recover, and quickly counters with some skilled aerial maneuvers. Here’s a post so you can appreciate it better. Starscream is taking full advantage of his flight ability here. He’s leading the high guard, of course he’s going to be good at flying.

Side note: we don’t know if Starscream is the official leader of the high guard, do we? Maybe he just claimed leadership after they went into exile. It would be fun to think about.

As an extra note: Starscream is using his thrusters to carry both of them, holding D-16 up by the neck.

Extra extra note: D-16 kicks Starscream between the legs.

Now look at this. Here’s when D-16 transforms his foot to kick starscream off.

It all happens in a split second, but I tried my best to get screenshots.

Do you get what I’m trying to show?

Starscream angles his body forward, with the thrusters still on, before D-16 makes contact with him. He sees the kick coming, and he moves to counter it. When he realises he’s not fast enough to counter, he lets go of right D-16 before the impact in order to make sure he’s flung backwards instead of being injured. If he was still holding on, the damage would’ve been far more severe.

Sure, I find it a little surprising that a guy who can fly would fall in his butt, but I think I can explain it away. The thrusters are turned off when he’s kicked, but they return while he’s flying away. I think that may have been accidental. Maybe he intended to right himself midair and fly away but was unsuccessful, maybe he didn’t mean to activate them.

Either way, it contributes to him landing rougher than he would’ve intended. While I’m here, I want to point out D-16’s little swing off the wall to land next to Starscream. Very graceful.

Right before and right after getting punched in the face. There is momentary surprise, but no fear. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t take time to recover. One second of scowling, and then “HIT ME!” He doesn’t even need to catch his breath.

Slowing the scene you can see the punches have Starscream’s neck bent at an over 90 degree angle. Not only does he not react to the pain at all, but he also KEEPS ENCOURAGING HIS OPPONENT.

His body language and behavior is confident while he’s being punched. Only when D-16 turns his attention to the crowd does Starscream attempt to free himself.

He’s intentionally antagonizing his opponent, making D-16 drop his guard and focus on giving the crowd a show, he takes the punches like they’re nothing and only tries to break free when D-16 looks away.

Focus on Starscream’s hands here. D-16 loses his focus, Starscream is very clearly trying to pry him off.

And here, just a few seconds later. First his hand is just… sitting there, not making any attempt to pry off the guy squeezing his throat (presumably very painful) and instead continuing to yell (presumably very painful). And then he Grabs and Pulls Him Closer. This isn’t the body language of a person who’s afraid, Starscream was biding his time and waiting for the opportunity to catch D-16 off guard, use a sudden moment of distraction to his advantage.

We only see fear from him at the very end. Only when he sees the arm cannon which is something nobody expected. Not even D-16 himself. From Starscream’s perspective he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to overpower an enemy who is stronger but less skilled and experienced than him, all the while giving the troops a good show. And then the guy pulls out THAT THING to his face.

You can see the moment he knew he fucked up. There’s nothing he can do after that except ask for mercy.

It’s my personal belief that had the battle lasted longer, and had D-16 not discovered his Murder Arm, Starscream would’ve won.

And although I’m not disappointed in this outcome, I would’ve also loved if D-16 had the upper hand physically but still got defeated due to Starscream’s cunning and experience. We would’ve seen Starscream show his talent, and seen that D-16 still has a long way to go.

#transformers #transformers one #tf one #tf one spoilers #transformers one spoilers #tf one starscream #tf one megatron #d-16 #starscream #Megatron #scene analysis #the lengths I went to trying to post this you have no idea

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kxsalt · 2 months ago

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Handcuffs and rope are tucked into his backpack. The man rides the train to her house. A brief glimpse of fear cuts into him as she opens the door. “Hi! Thanks for coming!” The girl looks beautiful as always. She wraps him in a tight hug. She smells like lavender. Leading her friend inside, she chatters about her day.

The man sits at the kitchen table and watches her scurry around. She was always like this, full of life and energy. It was intoxicating. Her innocent giggles and chipper anecdotes had entranced him long ago. “I wanna show you some art I’ve been making! Oh! And you can meet my plants!” He can hear passerby from the street outside. The man slides the window shut.

“Can you help me with this?” Her weak hands twist around a jar lid. Standing next to her, he towers over the girl. A satisfying pop follows. He’s a lot stronger than her. She thanks him and prepares a snack. “I rearranged my room – come see!” The girl’s sanctuary is as cute and chaotic as she is. The headboard of her bed has open slats. He could tie something to them.

She drops her phone on the unmade bed and moves to her dresser. The man stealthily pushes her phone between the bed and the frame. It would be hard to find in an emergency. Watching her light some incense, he admires her body. “Today has been such a good day~ <3” A pang of guilt touches his soul. The man pushes it down. He’s already made his decision.

The girl spins around as aromatic smoke floats around her. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something from my bag.” She steps in close to him and stands on her tiptoes. Her lips touch his in an affectionate kiss. Seeing his shocked expression, the girl blushes. “I’m sorry! I should have asked first…” She’s flustered and embarrassed. “…I just always thought you were really hot…” He touches her frail body. “…and I was wondering if you’d be okay with… hooking up?”

The pair collapses onto the bed, kissing and groping each other. She rubs his cock as he nibbles on her neck. The scent of lavender washes over him. He pulls off her dress without a fight. He takes off her panties without ripping them. She sucks his cock without crying. When he fingers her pussy, her legs open wide instead of squeezing shut.

She holds onto the headboard as he ruts into her. Eager to be a good fuck, the girl talks dirty to him. “You can do whatever you want to me.” The man grins, thrusting deep. “Oh, I know.” She feels even better than he imagined. Losing himself in the moment, he grips her wrists and pins her into the pillow. The girl giggles, enjoying his rough handling. He fucks her as hard as he wants. Always enthusiastic, she takes him well.

Strong hands hold her throat. Weak hands push against his body for a moment. She gives in, letting him choke her as he cums in her pussy. The girl gasps as he relaxes, laying on top of her. The couple rest in warm silence. The girl’s fingers stroke along his back. “It’s so stuffy in here… I thought I left a window open.” He shrugs. “Have you seen my phone?” She searches the bed as his cum dribbles from her cunt. “Maybe it slid down the side.”

They cuddle and enjoy their pillow talk. “So, what made you want to have sex with me?” She looks for some easy validation. He obliges her. “Everything about you. You’re fun, beautiful, interesting. You smell like lavender.” The girl wiggles cheerfully, enjoying his praise. “What made you want to have sex with me?”

She looks bashful, and cuddles into his arms. The girl lays her head on his chest.

“I always feel really safe with you…”

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lemonlover1110 · 4 months ago

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Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Toji tries to help Megumi with his math homework

Warnings: fluff, crying child

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*Did you even live if you didn't leave the dining table crying because your parent/sibling was trying to help you with your math homework?

“If Timmy has five apples, and gives three away to Bob, how many apples does Timmy have?” Toji reads the math question out loud to Megumi. You’re usually the one that does this type of stuff since Toji isn’t patient enough for homework… But you claimed you couldn’t do it.

“Be nice!” You yell from the kitchen, hearing Toji’s frustration in his tone. You claimed you couldn’t do it, yet you’re in the kitchen preparing snacks for them.

“I am being nice! I’m just reading the question.” Toji rolls his eyes, putting his attention back to Megumi. The child has five fingers up, and he’s putting them down one by one. Toji is losing his mind, watching Megumi do his homework, the child is just too slow. Toji sighs, “We have like ten more questions, but sure, take your time.”

“Don’t pressure him.” You lightly hit the back of Toji’s head after you put the tray of food down on the table. Toji rubs the spot (though it didn’t hurt) while staring at the food that you’ve prepared, his stomach suddenly growling. “Take a break, Megumi. I know you’ve been working hard, baby.”

“Thank you.” Megumi smiles at you, stopping the complicated math that he was doing with his fingers. Toji bites his tongue, and if he didn’t love you and respect you so much he would’ve cursed you out. He waits for you to leave before pushing the tray away from Megumi’s reach.

“Now is not the time for a break.” Toji says. Megumi’s arms are too tiny, unable to reach to the other side of the table without standing up. When Toji sees the child standing up the man scolds him, “Take a seat, you aren’t done. You have eleven questions left.”

“But it’s break time.” Megumi claims, which earns a nasty look from Toji. A look that scares the child into staying glued to his seat. “I don’t know the answer.”

“But you knew the answers to the other ones, huh?” Toji is getting annoyed. He’d rather be anywhere but here, doing this.

“I don’t know…” Megumi claims once again, but this time his voice breaks and tears are welling up in his eyes. Glossy eyes stare back at Toji and Toji sighs. He can’t do this right now.

“If Timmy has five apples–” He’s reading in a normal tone, yet Megumi begins to sniffle, tears streaming down the child’s chubby cheeks which makes Toji stop. Toji stares at the child in wonder… Why is he reacting like this? Toji can’t help but ask, “Why are you even crying?”

“I–” Megumi can’t even get his answer out without a sob escaping his lips. The crying gets louder, and it’ll eventually get your attention. Toji knows he’s done for.

He rests his face behind his palm, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He’s just waiting for you to show up.

“Why are you being mean to my baby?” Right on cue, Megumi goes running to you. He’s crying into your arms, and you hug the child, trying to comfort him. “It’s okay, baby. He’s just a meanie.”

“This is unbelievable.” Toji scoffs, before standing up. He grabs the tray of snacks before leaving you behind to comfort Megumi. He takes a big bite of food before yelling back at you, “You’re raising a crybaby!”

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beautifulpaprika · 5 months ago

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A Beast and a Bracelet (m)

pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!

summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.

word count: 8.7k

Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me.

“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me.

The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest.

I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running.

“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time.

I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult.

There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind.

“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision.

One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny.

I stick close to the wall, unmoving.

Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave.

“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.

My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself.

The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there.

Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men.

The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it.

The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me.

A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face.

I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature.

Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog.

“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me.

However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.

I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear.

There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces.

Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements.

“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me.

A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again.

My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock.

“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles.

“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“

”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head.

“I’m grateful,” my voice is low.

“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it.

That’s it?

He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.

I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out.

The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me.

“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name.

My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened?

“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess.

I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me.

His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes.

“What are you doing?”

”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat.

I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face.

“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me.

I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me.

We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily.

“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains.

I throw the hand and toe on the spot.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave.

He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave.

“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.

“It's been a few years. . .”

The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years?

“Did you run away from home?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs.

I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.

“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers.

He freezes at the question.

“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water.

I notice something glistening and take a step towards it.

But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides.

“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.

I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.

He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax.

“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot.

“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body.

“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world.

He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question.

“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him.

“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is.

“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot.

“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs.

“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid.

“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home.

“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave.

“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call.

“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark.

***

I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?

It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose.

A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt.

“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word.

“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me.

I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas.

“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie.

“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks.

I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us.

“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”

“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out.

“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me.

His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.

“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words.

“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot.

He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.

I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.

“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway.

He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground.

“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask.

“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does.

I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave.

“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper.

“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname.

“Why do you call me that?”

“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through.

“It wasn’t that obvi-”

“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me.

“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating.

“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone.

He steps down, slowly, into the water.

I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything.

I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water.

“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls.

“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.

“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position.

“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water.

He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire.

“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture.

His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes.

“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in.

The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface.

My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger?

“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”

“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly.

Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me.

“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him.

I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars.

I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me.

“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit.

“About?”

“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him.

“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look.

“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?”

He turns in genuine interest.

“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers.

He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it.

“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”

“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt.

His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar.

I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me.

I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work.

“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.

“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly.

“What exactly do you turn into?”

“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.”

“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness.

He nods in answer.

“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question.

“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash.

“What was your motivation?”

He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still.

“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.

***

The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father.

Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in.

A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it.

After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to.

I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is.

“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him.

“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him.

“What do you have behind you?”

“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually.

“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.

He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him.

“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead.

“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave.

“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces.

They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here.

Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?

“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn.

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in.

“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.

“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same.

His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out.

Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest.

I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special.

A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t.

The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos.

My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone.

A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.

Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave.

The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.

I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men-

Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment.

Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear.

His groan is quiet behind me.

“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching.

“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying.

My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes.

“I’m not letting you die.”

***

Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown.

“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.”

As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast.

“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.

I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.

***

It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing.

“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests.

“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet.

It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago.

***

11 years ago

“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does.

I can’t watch this anymore.

“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground.

“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out.

“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now.

“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs.

“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay.

The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?

We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange.

He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest.

We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.

“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those.

His hands work and kneed in the grass and grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?

A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand.

“For me?” I ask and he nods his head.

“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,” my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice.

“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.

His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!

***

“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me.

“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations.

I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face.

“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.

“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”

“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs.

“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains.

My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.

“You should have told me. . .”

“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”

Tears start to well up again.

“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach.

“If you’re lying-”

“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.”

My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me.

“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”

“Can I be honest?”

“I’d like it if you were.”

“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly.

Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-”

His soft lips interrupt me - finally!

A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva.

His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core.

We separate, breathing into each other.

“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now.

“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer.

“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him.

The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.

The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples.

“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now.

“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down.

I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel.

“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him.

“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back.

He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching.

“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”

I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand.

I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way.

“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too.

His eyes fall to my pants.

“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow.

His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up.

“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction.

My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”

I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!”

“Then what was that look?”

“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct.

A small smile appears on his face.

“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt.

His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in.

When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure.

Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way.

His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down.

“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.”

“Jungkook, pelase -”

He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me.

“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”

I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me.

“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck.

It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there.

“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same.

I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me.

“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head.

“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”

“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids.

“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek.

“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow.

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook bts #jungkook smut

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karmasloverrr · 1 month ago

Text

godspeed - rafe cameron

pairings- rafe cameron x maybank reader, established relationship

SZN 4 SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!! you’ve been warned

this takes place in ep 10 right after everyone’s fighting and all that

———————————————————————————

The adrenaline was still running through your vains, like the hot, dusty sand you all found yourself in over the past couple of hours. Your hands are shaking, can’t fully grasp the weight of what you’ve just done.

“Baby?” You snap out of your shocked haze when a pair of comforting, familiar hands come to rest on the side of your waist , “a-are you ok?” His blue, stress ridden eyes bore into yours.

You take a shaky breath in, letting the gun you held drop to the ground below your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jump up into him. “He almost killed you, Rafe. I thought I was gonna lose you, I-I didn’t have any other choice, he was so close to-“, your rambling was paused by him shushing you quietly and rubbing a hand soothingly up and down your back, his other gripping the back of your head like his life depended on it.

“I know, I know, breathe Y/N, breathe” You were sobbing now. Not out of remorse for one of Dalia’s men, whom you had just shot dead out of defense for Rafe, but because you almost lost the love of your life.

Rafe pulls away, still keeping a hand on your back, keeping you close. “You just saved my life, Y/N. I’m so proud of you for being strong, it’s gonna be ok.” He was now using a thumb to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

You nod frantically in understanding, sniffiling and leaning into his palms touch. Bringing a hand to his on your cheek, you intertwine fingers. “Are you o-ok? I mean you almost just got stabbed, Rafe. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if-“. He places both hands on your face now, demanding your attention.

“Hey, listen to me. You did exactly what I would’ve done if you were just in my situation, ok? Hell, I would’ve beat that fuckers face in before I let him get the chance to even go near you so don’t overthink this for a second, do you understand? I love you so much.”

You licked your lips and nodded. After Rafe had told you to stay with Kiara when he went to bide JJ some time with the crown, he got into trouble with one of Dalia’s men and hadn’t come back. You couldn’t stay still knowing he was by himself.

Despite protest from Kiara and how your brother needed you right now, you ran to look for Rafe. You could hear the sound of distress and punches being thrown before you could see them. Even through poor visibility you knew it was Rafe, your Rafe, being attacked. As you got closer you could see that he was being held at knife point and without thinking you pulled the gun out that rested at your hip and fired at the man’s back.

With JJ’s constant tutorials and a little bit of practice over the years you hit your target dead on. Except this time it wasn’t a beer bottle or a teddy bear, it was a human being and nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

Rafe continued to try and work you down from the shock and complete panic, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hairline. He eventually brought a smile onto your face when he praised your accuracy and said how bad ass it was, “that’s my girl”.

“It was kind of badass wasn’t it?” He let out a laugh at your rebuttal. Even in your state of mind, the sound of it made your stomach tingle with butterflies.

“If I’m gonna be honest, after I realized what just happened and saw you standing there, I got a little turned o-“, you scoffed at his antics and pushed him away from you playfully. “Shut up.”

He pulled you back into him before you got any farther, wrapping both arms around your waist, in turn you grabbed his biceps, looking into the eyes that you love so much.

You let your smile fade a little when you saw his eyes glaze over, knowing he was about to get emotional.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You saved me and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, please don’t feel guilty or anything like that. I would do anything for you too, y’know that.”

“I know, and seeing you like that, in that danger, made me sick and I-I just blacked out.” He nodded slowly in understanding, “but I’d do it again if it meant that you were ok.” you continued.

You were now the one stroking his arms in comfort, his head nodding up and down telling you he was processing it all. Now putting yourself on your tip toes to reach his face, you placed your lips on his in a loving kiss.

Pulling away, you placed your forehead on his. “It’s you and me, Cameron. Always.” He pulled away and placed a loving peck on the crown of your head, “Damn right, sweetheart.”

Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk back towards the direction that Kiara and JJ were. “Let’s go see if J found this fucking thing.”

Rafe scoffed but followed your lead, “I’ve had enough of this fairytale pogue sh-“, you gave him a ‘really?’ look, to which he held his hand up in defense and shrugged.

“They’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta hand it to them and besides, this is a little exciting don’t you think?”

He frowned and shook his head, “Almost just got stabbed to death but yeah, sure, having a grand old time.” You giggled at his sarcasm, used to it by now.

Walking up the hill, you exaggeratedly began to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to which he protested against immediately stating “this isn’t a rom-com, please stop” but deep down, he loved seeing you make light out of a shitty situation.

He knows it’s due to you being so used to doing it because of Luke growing up, which never fails to make his heart beat in rage, but everything in his world is ok, perfect, when he gets to see you smiling like this.

When you both reach the top, there’s an absence of your little brother and Kiara that causes your smile and stomach to drop. The sandstorm passed yet they’re still nowhere in sight.

“JJ?” you call out, in hopes that they’re possibly somewhere in ear range. Nothing.

“J! Kie! Guys?” You let go of Rafe’s hand, heading to go circle around the statue.

“Woah, don’t go by yourself. If they’re someplace close by they sure as hell didn’t stick around here, let’s head back towards the buildings. They probably met back up with John B and Sarah.”

You shook your head, “No, if they got the crown and were ok, they would’ve just came and found us. Rafe, somethings not right.” You started to head more towards the statue in hopes that they went a different direction but Rafe steps infront of you before you can get any further.

“Hey, stop. I know you’re worried but incase you forgot, it’s not just them that Daria’s men are looking for, ok? I’m not letting you get hurt in the process of trying to find them.”

You took the arm that he held out to his side as a barrier and shoved it. “Rafe, that’s my brother, please we need to at least look around the area and see-“ He began to side step along with you so you couldn’t move around him.

“I understand that, Y/N/N, but let’s use the brain I know you have and think rationally, alright? They probably went back with the group assuming we were there too, ok? Let’s start there.”

You shook your head in annoyance, you’ve always been stubborn and you’re certainly not budging about this. “All I’m saying, Rafe, is that we check around the area first, m-maybe they didn’t hear me when I yelled.”

“Baby, please listen to m-“

“John B! Pope! Y/N!”

You whipped your head to the direction of Kiara’s wail echoing through the air. A sound of desperation like you’ve never heard and don’t wanna hear again. “Oh my god.” you whispered in fear.

Rafe looked at you with agony in his eyes, recognizing the same fret in her voice that you did. Without any hesitation you took off down the hill, not listening to Rafe’s protest to “wait for him”.

Your mind was moving as fast as your legs, you didn’t know where you were going but it’s like your body knew exactly where to take you.

Weaving down and through the same maze like corridors that you had escaped from earlier led you closer to the sounds of your friends, “Kie?”, you yelled out in despair, now acknowledging Rafe’s footsteps a few seconds behind you.

You felt the room before you saw it, your stomach already declaring that somethings wrong, very wrong. Before you could brace yourself, you saw the image infront of you. Blood. John B shaking him. Kiara with her head on his chest and hands on his stomach. JJ.

“JJ?” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as it barely came out of your mouth, cracking and whispery, desperate and defeated.

Stumbling to a halt against Rafe’s chest, you felt your legs giving out from underneath you, a pair of arms coming to catch you before you collapsed. No, not him, please God, don’t do this to me, no. Rafe’s arms were the only thing keeping you stable while you began to crumble, him collapsing down to the floor with you as weeps exited your mouth, shaking your whole body.

You didn’t have to look at him very long to know he’s gone, you could feel it. Sobs and pleads from the group didn’t register against your own. It sounded so foreign coming out of your body. “He’s dead” you sobbed, physically feeling your heart breaking. “JJ, no”, you wailed. Your head feels a thousand pounds as you slowly lift it off the ground.

Rafe has his own placed against the top of your spine, his forehead making a known presence on your back, still gripping your arms as if you’ll go too if he doesn’t. To the best of your ability you try to stand, legs still feeling mush as you feel Rafe’s touch disappear the closer you get to your little brother.

Halfway through, you give up on the poor excuse for walking and collapse back to the ground again, now crawling towards his lifeless body. “JJ, wake up, please!”. The only sounds you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your sobbing screams and your heart breaking.

Your palm meets his face, already feeling so cold and lifeless, the exact opposite of JJ Maybank. “Please don’t do this to me. W-wake up, JJ!”. You continue stroking his cheek, patting it lightly a few times, hoping, begging, pleading for your brother to wake up.

Stroking his hair, you shake your head out of disbelief. Hushed whispers exit your lips, trying to reach the deepest parts of him.“I can’t do this without you JJ, don’t leave me.” It’s been you and him against the world, the shit hand you’ve been given wasn’t too bad when you had each other to fall back on.

Growing up you found solice in each other, you didn’t need anyone to help you or comfort you, you had your little brother and he had his older sister. When Luke was to drunk to help JJ get ready for school in the morning, it was you brushing his hair, picking out his outfit, making his lunch. With your mother long gone, you took pride in being that figure in his life and it was your greatest achievement, seeing the man he had turned into, no matter how rebellious and defiant, you loved him like your own, and now that he’s gone, what’s left for you?

“Who was it? Kiara, who did this to him?” you now turned your attention from JJ to Kie, her looking just as horrified as the rest of the group. A look of disgusted rage took over your face, your stomach bubbling with hatred.

She sniffled before speaking, “Chandler, h-he stabbed him, I- JJ saved me and gave him the crown, I don’t know- I can’t.” She began to sob, recalling the traumatic moment.

Motherfucker. If the betrayal wasn’t enough, knowing JJ was just trying to save his loved one and this is how he’s repaid?

You can’t see or think straight, one moment you’re mourning the loss of your best friend and the next you’re taking all the strength you have left and standing up with the gun on your hip, reloading the clip and heading towards the direction Kie said he went.

You don’t get very far before Sarah and John B rush to your side. “Y/N. Stay. We need you right now. Don’t do this.” You shake them off of you, sending your elbow into John B’s stomach in the process. “Get the fuck off of me.”

You whip around and point the gun at the group, they look at you in shock, not processing what’s going on. Your breathing is uneasy as you lick the forming sweat off your lips. “If any of you touch me one more time, I swear t-to God. I’m going to kill Groff and none of you are getting in my way.”

Looking around you see the faces of your best friends, sad, confused, and angry. The gun pointed at them has your stomach dropping. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” The gun you have aimed at them is making you sick all over again.

Rafe takes a few hesitant steps forward when he sees you begin to rub your chest anxiously, knowing it’s your way of trying to work your way down from a panic attack.

“Sweetheart, put the gun down, ok?” None of his words are registering with you. He’s gone, he’s gone, JJ’s dead.

Rafe catches you just before you start to collapse again, this time into the comfort of his chest and arms. He takes the gun that’s hanging loosely from your hand and reaches it behind his back for John B to take.

“Rafe, he’s dead. He’s g-gone.” sobbing the dreadful words into his chest, his shirt catching your tears. You’re both on the ground now, him cradling you like a toddler as he rocks you back and forth in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes your hair and rubs your back, soaking in all of your pain. Your sobs begin to muffle as the others join in with you, still begging JJ to wake up, to open his eyes and to come back.

The weight of the air feels similar to your chest, no matter how much comfort and apologies Rafe whispers into your hair, it’s still not enough, your baby brothers gone and he’s never coming back.

The warmth of the fire fans your face. Emotionally and physically drained is where you and the Pogues have found yourself. Rafe keeps a steady eye on you as your head leans against his shoulder, knowing the last time you spoke was a few hours ago when he buried JJ, none of you being able to bring yourselves to do it.

Stray tears slip down your face, your expression remaining uninterested and dry. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional sniffing from the group and the cracks of the wood in the dying out fire infront of you.

You feel Rafe’s heartbeat against your back and his chest move when he talks. “I don’t know. If it was my friend I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him, yeah?” You take a steady breath in, getting ready to defend him when Pope tells him to “shut up”.

“You guys think that JJ would just sit here if it was one of us?” The whole group turns its attention to you, knowing you’ve been far too quiet for far too long, like JJ, you can be a ticking time bomb in moments like these.

John B is the first to speak up, “We all know what JJ would do. He’d get even.” You nod, still looking at the fire, kicking some sand as you stand up to begin pacing in rage.

Rafe watches your moves carefully, ready to defend you and back you up for whatever you’re about to say. He trusts you and he’s knows your best interest, you could tell him the sky was purple and he’d agree, while placing a loving kiss on your cheek.

You shake your head in agreement, feeling the never subsided rage bubble back up into your throat.

“Revenge.”

———————————————————————————

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fanfiction #john b routledge #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #angst

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gilbertscurls · 3 months ago

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Eeyore ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: where you dress up your baby as eeyore

The morning sun filtered gently through the nursery window, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. You were busy preparing for a special moment, your face lit up with excitement. You had carefully chosen the perfect outfit for your newborn, a soft, plush Eeyore costume, complete with floppy ears and a little tail. You wanted to surprise Matt, knowing how much he adored the lovable character.

With the outfit ready and your baby snugly dressed, you picked up the tiny bundle and made your way to the living room where Matt was lounging on the couch, his attention focused on his phone. You tried to contain your laughter, knowing how much Matt loved Eeyore.

As you entered the room, you cleared your throat to get his attention. “Hey, Matt. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Matt looked up, his face lighting up with curiosity. “A surprise? What is it?”

You held up the baby, whose wide eyes peered out from under the Eeyore hood. “Look who’s here to see you!”

Matt’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of your newborn dressed as Eeyore. His reaction was instantaneous, and his expression shifted from curiosity to sheer, unrestrained delight. He practically leapt off the couch, his excitement palpable.

“Oh my god! Is that—” Matt’s voice trailed off as he rushed over to you, his eyes glued to the tiny Eeyore costume. “That’s Eeyore! You dressed him up as Eeyore!”

You nodded, your smile widening. “I thought you’d like it. I know how much you love Eeyore.”

Matt’s face broke into a huge grin, and he gently took the baby from your arms, cradling him with a look of pure adoration. “This is the cutest thing ever. I can’t believe you did this!”

He carefully adjusted the little costume, making sure the ears were positioned just right and the tail was neatly in place. The baby cooed softly, seemingly content in the plush outfit.

Matt’s excitement was contagious as he started to gush. “Look at you, little guy! You’re absolutely perfect. Eeyore is my favorite! You look like you stepped right out of the Hundred Acre Wood.”

You watched, your heart melting at the sight of Matt’s enthusiasm. You knew how much Eeyore meant to him, and seeing him so overjoyed was priceless. “I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be fun to dress him up as your favorite character.”

Matt couldn’t take his eyes off the baby, who seemed to be enjoying the extra attention. He began to softly sing the opening song from the old cartoons, his voice filled with affection.

You chuckled, your own happiness evident. “You’re completely losing it over this costume.”

Matt looked up, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I can’t help it. This is the best surprise ever. I love Eeyore so much, and seeing our baby dressed up as him just makes everything even more perfect.”

He continued to adore the baby, giving him gentle kisses on the forehead and softly speaking to him as if he were the actual Eeyore. You could see how deeply Matt’s love for Eeyore extended to your child, and it made your love for both of them grow even stronger.

Eventually, Matt carefully handed the baby back to you, his eyes still shining with happiness. “Thank you for this. It’s more than I could have ever hoped for.”

You smiled, your heart full. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

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g0dlyunsub · 8 months ago

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stitch me.

you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent

you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.

but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?

must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.

“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.

“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.

“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.

you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.

“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.

“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.

“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.

this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.

but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.

you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.

when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.

“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.

it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.

“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.

you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.

and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.

just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.

“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.

no. no, no, no. NO.

you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.

“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.

“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.

the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.

it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.

your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.

“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.

spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.

“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.

“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.

“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.

“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.

“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.

jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.

he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.

“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.

“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.

“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.

“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.

at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.

between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.

“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.

“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.

you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.

“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.

“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.

that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.

his voice is the only stitch you need.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #bau!reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg x reader #dr spencer reid

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xx-reverie-xx · 24 days ago

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Hihi!! I just read your Sevika HCs and I absolutely love them!! I wanted to know if you could (please) write HCs for Sevika and Vi after an argument with their partner? :) Whether it’s an argument the reader started or they started can be completely up to you! Or you could even do both scenarios if you prefer! 💕

Thank you and I hope you have a nice day/evening 💖

🖤Sevika and Vi after an Argument🖤

men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni

🤎Sevika🤎

I don’t think arguments would be common in a relationship with Sevika.

When she locks into a serious relationship, she means serious. She covers all the important bases for a healthy relationship; communication, loyalty, respect, trust, and so much more.

Covering these bases, especially communication, helps to avoid frequent arguments.

It won’t completely cut out the occasional argument though.

When you two do argue, it’s almost always about bigger things. For example, her working so much and not taking much time for herself, or maybe her drinking and smoking.

Post-argument time usually has as “how can we avoid this in the future” moment where you guys have a heart to heart about whatever started the argument.

If you start an argument:

Be prepared to apologize first. And only apologize if you’re really sorry.

You should always finish what you start, after all.

Your apology may be met with an affectionate an eye roll and a huff.

She never stays mad at you for long.

Once you apologize she usually makes space for you wherever she’s sitting and wraps her arm around just to let you know it’s really okay.

If you’re just apologizing because you feel like you need to, don’t. She can see right through you if you’re bullshitting her.

If you’re stubborn like her, sometimes apologizing can genuinely be difficult. She gets that. Which is why her patience with you is a blessing.

Again, when you’re ready to apologize , she’s affectionate and accepts it.

If she starts an argument:

This woman is stubborn. For her to apologize, it just doesn’t feel right.

She’s only ever been truly sorry a few times in her life. In the Undercity, living a life like hers, she never had time to be sorry.

Being sorry gets you hurt. It gets you killed.

But…

It’s obviously different when it’s you. You aren’t a big bad wolf waiting around the corner. You’re her partner, her ride-or-die.

In the heat of the moment, what she said felt right. It felt like something you needed to hear.

The thought of you feeling hurt by something she said just eats her alive.

She comes to you first.

It isn’t anything crazy, usually just a simple, gruff “I’m sorry.”

She’s awkward and stiff about it, but completely genuine.

Asks what she can do to make it up to you, if anything.

❤️Vi❤️

Violet runs hot. She isn’t a loose cannon but someday’s it can be hard trying to keep all of her emotions under wraps.

This has definitely lead to arguments over petty things like dishes in the sink or eating the last of her favorite snack.

It’s also lead to arguments about very serious things. Her pit fighting, drinking, and her occasional impulsivity.

Arguments always hit her hard, even the petty ones. No matter how old she gets, arguments always make her feel like a little kid, just waiting for the ball to drop. The ball being losing you.

That feeling of dread, like this argument could be the last, if that makes sense.

Physical touch is usually present in the make up process after an argument. It helps ground her.

The good news is, the two of you always make up very quickly.

If you start an argument:

If the argument is a petty spat about dishes or snacks, she still apologizes first, albeit rather begrudgingly.

This links back to her feeling like this argument could be the last. What if she never hears “You promised you’d take out the trash this week” ever again?

You, however, shut that down. “It’s my fault, I should be the one apologizing.” You tell her.

These arguments are extremely easy to come back from because you two are always on the same level. Two halves to make a whole, equals

There isn’t a point in staying hung up on petty nonsense for long.

If you start a big argument, you apologize first.

She distances herself and you have to go to her.

You’ll usually find her someplace where she shouldn’t be, like a bar. Or, you might find her someplace safe, like with Loris or another friend she feels comfortable around.

Not only should you apologize, but it would also be a good chance to thoroughly explain why you’re upset or might think something is a bad idea.

Once you do that, she’ll open her arms up to you and usually things can be resolved somewhat easily after that.

If she starts an argument:

Again, she apologizes first.

If she starts an argument, big or small, the dread of possibly losing you over this hits her like bricks.

For smaller arguments, she approaches you casually. If you let her, she’ll wrap her arms around you. An apology hug, if you will.

Says, “I’m sorry, baby,” in the softest voice she can muster.

These smaller arguments are always easier to come back from just because she’s so sweet. How can you ever stay upset when she’s such a sweetie?

Big arguments are something else though.

After she’s said whatever it is that she’s said, the weight of it all is suffocating.

If she said something really stupid and hurtful in the heat of the moment, she might need some space for a bit. Things like that take her back to that day.

But she’ll come to you when she’s ready.

May or may not have a little gift for you for extra measure. Usually it’s something simple like your favorite candy bar.

She tells you she’s sorry and explains why she got so worked up. Usually this leads to a steady and warm embrace and you let her know it’s okay.

hello!!! thank you for the request ♥️ please let me know if you enjoyed it or not. i had so much fun writing these. i kind of got carried away with vi’s headcanons 🙈. . i was purposefully vague about what started the argument so you can sort of imagine your own scenario for why the argument started!🎠

ask box is open for multiple fandoms and nearly every arcane character! check my pinned for rules, fandoms, and characters. i write headcanons, reactions, drabbles, and more!

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fastandcarlos · 1 month ago

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Little Boy Growing Up : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: you can't contain your emotions as your son attends nursery for the very first time

As the car came to a stop, a lump ran down your throat as you studied the building that you had toured a couple of weeks ago. Next to you, Daniel was just as nervous, knowing what was about to come, not quite sure he was fully prepared for it.

“Shall we go in?” You smiled, turning back in your seat to look at your son. “This is the place where you’re going to be staying today sweetheart.”

“Let’s go!” Your son cheered, hurrying to get out of the car.

Daniel climbed out and walked around to help him get out, unfastening her seatbelt and lifting him out of her seat. “I can’t believe my baby boy is growing up.”

“Daniel,” you chuckled, climbing out of the car too and giving your son a hug. “He’s only going to nursery, he’s not going to prom or anything just yet.”

Since you agreed to start taking your son to nursery, Daniel had been relatively calm. But now that he was here, he was struggling to contain his emotion and not let it get the better of him.

“Baby,” you whispered, pulling your son closer to you. “Do you think you could go and give daddy a really big squeeze, I think he’d love that right now.”

Your son did as you asked, sprinting over to Daniel and leaping into his arms. “Are you excited?” Daniel asked him, forcing a smile onto his face. “What am I going to do without you by my side today?”

“You’ll have fun too,” your son assured him.

Your eyes were drawn to the tight hold that Daniel had on him, refusing to let him go. “Come on, we can’t stand out in the car park all day,” you tried to tell them both.

Daniel reluctantly let your son go as you took his hand, Daniel deciding it was best for him to wait in the car. A member of nursery staff was immediately at the door with a warm smile, especially as she saw how excited your son was.

“Hi sweet boy,” she chimed, kneeling down so that she was at his height. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.”

Your mouth opened to say goodbye, but your son was already off and beginning to explore the place. You handed his bag over, standing in astonishment at how easily he took to nursery, quickly finding the toys that he liked and talking to the other children who were with them playing.

“It’s nice not to deal with tears for once,” the staff member joked. “I’ll make sure to keep an extra close eye on him today and see how he settles in. If we have any problems, I’ll make sure to give you a call.”

You waved goodbye before heading back across to the car. As you opened the door, Daniel quickly wiped underneath both of his eyes before smiling across at you.

“Everything good?” You asked, watching Daniel closely. His head nodded, but the look on his face told you a completely different story.

You stayed still for a moment before reaching across and taking a hold of Daniel’s hand, silently reminding him that you were right there with him.

“I didn’t think I’d find this so hard,” he admitted in a whisper, “especially as he’s found it all so easy.”

“It’s nice to know he’s excited,” you responded.

Daniel hummed in agreement, “I’m glad that he was looking forward to this, I guess I just wasn’t looking forward to losing him.”

“You’ve not lost him Daniel, you’ll see him in seven hours.”

The two of them had always been undeniably close, when Daniel was home every second was spent with your son, hanging out, doing whatever they wanted to do, making as many memories together as possible.

Daniel had worked hard on preparing your son for nursery, prepping him with skills, conversation starters and teaching him about sharing too. Daniel wanted his son to be liked, he knew that he would be popular, he was a mini Daniel after all.

Your hand squeezed against Daniel’s tightly, “I bet he would want for us to enjoy ourselves whilst he’s at nursery you know Daniel.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, “I can’t believe I have to spend my day with you now, can’t I go and get him back and hang out with him instead?”

“Excuse me, we’ll have a great time together.”

Daniel’s eyes rolled as you hit against his arm, encouraging him to put his foot down and get driving. You knew that he was only messing with you, but at the same time, you knew no one could fill the void that your son left in his life when he wasn’t around.

“He’s going to learn a lot being at nursery, he’ll grow as a person,” you told Daniel.

“There’s plenty that I could teach him though,” he argued.

Your head shook as Daniel continued to protest. Although he had taught your son plenty, there were some things in life that a parent couldn’t teach their child.

“He’s going to be around kids his own age, not around stinky drivers who are sweaty and gross,” you teased, “and it means we get more time together too.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed back across at you, “there’s nothing wrong with hanging out with racing drivers, we actually happen to be pretty cool guys.”

“I know, I was stupid enough to marry one of them.”

As the two of you pulled out from the nursery, you could see Daniel arguing with himself. There was a small part of him that wanted to run in and take your son, but he knew that he couldn’t, eventually listening to you and driving away, as much as it killed him.

Despite his protests, Daniel knew that nursery was going to be good for your son, it was a chance for him to see more, do more, meet new people, everything that Daniel had ever wanted for him.

After a few minutes he began to relax again, leaning back in his chair as he focused on the road, trying to forget about the fact that he had lost his little man for a few hours.

“What are we going to do now that it’s just the two of us?” You asked him.

Daniel’s eyes flickered across to you, “well, seeing as I’ve essentially just lost a child, there’s a bit of a void in my life now that needs to be filled.”

“You’ve not lost your child, he’s just growing up, that’s what we all do Daniel.”

His shoulders shrugged, but still his eyes looked suggestively across at you. Now that your son was growing up, the two of you had more time on your hands again, and Daniel definitely wasn’t happy just settling on having one child.

“We’ve been blessed with one incredible child; would it be so bad if we thought about another one?” Daniel quizzed, offering you a wide smile. “Doesn’t now seem like the perfect time to start thinking about these things, like you said, we’re not getting any younger.”

“How long have you been planning this?” You chuckled, shaking your head across at him. “We’ve just said goodbye to one child for the day and now you’re planning the next one.”

Daniel’s shoulders shrugged, an innocent expression etched upon his face. “I’m not necessarily thinking about having a child straight away, but it’s important that we get lots of practice in for it beforehand.”

“Is that really where your mind is at? You’re impossible sometimes Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Hey, look at you! Can you blame me?”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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fantasydreamland · 2 months ago

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Betrothed

cragen stark x fem tully reader x aemond targaryen

Summary: You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your entire world changes when your parents decide to wed you to the cold prince Aemond Targaryen instead. When the war begins everything changes once again and you eventually find your rightful place.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, loss of virginity, some spoilers

Word count: 5571

x thank you so much for this request x

Mini sequel - Mine

masterlist

You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your parents visited often but remained occupied in the Riverlands.

Along the way, you and Cregan fell in love though neither of you would speak of it. Although you were to be wed, you were both shy about your feelings towards each other.

One day your mother and father return to Winterfell to visit and you greet them excitedly.

“There is a reason to our visit.” Your father says sternly as you hug your mother.

Your smile fades and they lead you to private room to speak. Your father explains that there was an offer from King Viserys to wed you to Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“What?!” You yell. “Absolutely not. Tell them no. I am to marry Cregan soon. That has always been the plan.”

“We have already agreed.” Your father states.

“You cannot marry me to that cold evil prince!” You raise your voice again in panic.

“Prince Aemond is an excellent match, my dear.” Your mother says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“But I am to be lady of Winterfell! That is what I have been preparing for my entire life!”

“Well, now you will be a princess of the realm.” Your mother says.

“I do not care to be a princess!” Tears begin to fill your eyes. “What about Cregan? We have been betrothed our entire lives. He is the sweetest man I have ever known and now you are going to ship me away from him… away from you.”

“We would join you if we could, my dear.” Your mother says softly.

“But as you know we have a duty to the Riverlands. We cannot always choose our duties in life.”

“But father please-“

“There is no negotiating.” Your father speaks over you. “We have already promised the king. You should be grateful to earn such a title.”

“…When?” Was the only word you could choke out through your increasing tears.

“We will escort you there tomorrow.” Your father says.

“Tomorrow?!” You cry. “That is hardly any time at all!”

“Your mother and I need to return to Riverrun, we have no time to delay. I suggest you begin packing.” Without another word, your father storms out of the room.

“I’m sorry dear…” Your mother whispers to you as she follows behind him.

You collapse to the floor in tears. It feels like your entire world just went up in flames. You did not want to live in Kings Landing, you wanted to stay right here in the snowy North you had grown to love. You did not want to marry the prince, you wanted to marry Cregan who you had also grown to love.

‘Oh Cregan…’ You think. Breaking this news to him would be heartbreaking.

You pick yourself up off the floor and take deep breaths to steady your still shaky breathing. Once you have composed yourself you rush to find Cregan.

Cregan was standing alone in the Godswood looking to the tree before he turns and spots you approaching with a red nose and puffy eyes.

“What is wrong (y/n)?” He asks concerned.

You throw your arms around him and begin to sob again. He hugs you tightly as your tears dampen his fur cloak.

“Shh, it’s ok.” He pets your hair, causing you to cry harder, his tenderness being a reminder of what you would lose soon. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I h-have t-to leave.” You choke out before you begin crying again.

“What do you mean you have to leave?” Cregan pulls back to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

“My father- he…” You can barely get words out between sobs.

“Take a deep breath darling. You’re ok.”

You do as he says and take a deep shaky breath before continuing.

“He is marrying me to prince Aemond. We leave tomorrow.”

You bury your face back into his furs as you cry harder. He hugs you tighter than he ever has and for a moment does not say a word. The shock of everything fogging his thoughts.

“Please say something…” you whisper.

“How is this possible?” He finally speaks.

“I do not know…” You sniffle as you lift your head. “But my father said it is already decided.”

“But…” He cups both your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes with intensity you have never seen from him. “I can not lose you… I- I love you.”

“Cregan…”

Before you can respond he crashes his lips against yours. You kiss him back with all your passion. The kiss is filled with so many unspoken feelings between you. You had dreamt about kissing him many times before but never in sad circumstances like this. You continue to kiss each other like it is your last day in this world. Which for you, it would be your last day in his world. Your lips finally part and you can see tears in Cregans eyes.

“I am so sorry, my love…” You whisper.

Cregan kisses your forehead and takes your hands before placing a kiss on each of them.

“He better treat you how you deserve. Because… you deserve the world (y/n).” Cregan chokes back tears as he speaks.

“You are my world…” You whisper, looking deep into his grey eyes.

“And you are mine…” He whispers back before pressing his forehead to yours and sighing.

You could not bear another minute of this heart shattering goodbye so you excuse yourself to pack for the trip. Tears stream down your face as you organize your belongings. Sitting on your dresser was a beautiful wooden horse your father gave you the day you arrived at Winterfell.

You run your fingers along it, remembering your excitement when you saw snow for the very first time. Your father had said it was to remember that although they were in Riverun they would always be by your side to support you in the North. You scoff at the thought of your father’s words and chuck the wooden horse into the fire.

You did not leave your room the rest of the day as you finished packing. You had no appetite at all and could not bear to see Cregan or anyone else for that matter. After sobbing in bed for most of the night, sleep finally pulls you under.

**********

The next morning your things are being loaded onto the carriage. The snow fell gently, snowflakes landing and melting in your red hair, for the last time. You spot Cregan coming to wish you farewell. You run over to him and he wraps you in a tight hug. You both remain there for a long moment, not wanting to let go. He knew once he let you out of his arms you would be gone for good.

“I do not wish to speak the words since I am leaving… but you know my feelings for you.” You sniffle against his shoulder.

“I know…” He says as you finally part. “Me too.”

Cregan held back the tears in his eyes while yours streamed freely down your face. He holds your hands in his and places a final kiss to your forehead.

“Farewell, (y/n).” He says quietly. “I wish you good luck.”

“Farewell, Cregan.” You sniffle, barely holding back from bursting into tears again.

As your hands slowly part you could literally feel him slip away from you. You rushed into the carriage, choking back sobs. As the carriage takes off you stare through the window having one last glance at Cregan, one last moment admiring the beautiful white snow, one last moment in Winterfell. You watch as everything you have grown to love fades into the distance.

The ride is long, and silent, your parents barely speak a word and you were constantly focused on keeping yourself from crying. When you reached a far enough distance the air becomes warmer, forcing you to finally take off your favourite furs made for a lady of the North. After an agonizing few weeks of travel you finally reach Kings Landing.

**********

You follow behind your parents as a guard leads you to the throne room where the king and his family await.

“Lord and Lady Tully.” The guard announces your arrival. “And their daughter, (y/n) Tully.”

You greet the king as he welcomes you and your family. Your eyes meet Aemonds as he stares you down, his face cold and unreadable. He was even more handsome than you could have imagined. You break the eye contact with the one-eyed prince and look down nervously.

The guard escorts you to your new chambers and leads your parents off to their guest room for the night. You did not want to see or speak to them ever again. When the guard returns to escort you to dinner you refuse despite his insistence. You knew it would be taken as an insult to the king but you did not care. You hoped it may even encourage him to deem you unworthy of the prince and send you back home.

Not long after someone bangs at your door, startling you. You approach the door and cautiously open it to see Aemond holding a plate of food.

“It is a great insult to refuse the kings welcome feast.” He says as he pushes past you and lets himself in.

You scoff as he places the food on the small table in your room.

“Forgive me for insulting the king, my prince. I did not have much of an appetite.” You say firmly. “And frankly, I do not care to see my parents again before they abandon me here.”

“You need to eat.” He says in a stern tone.

“What I need is to go home.” You snap back.

“This is your home now.” He states, unphased by your attitude.

You simply huff and cross your arms.

“You need to eat.” He repeats. “I know that you must be hungry by now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs before heading toward the door. “Goodnight, Lady (y/n).”

He bows slightly before closing the door behind him. You stand there with your arms still crossed before your stomach starts to grumble. You sigh as you sit down and tuck into your food, silently grateful he brought it to you.

You change out of your dress before curling up into the large canopy bed with red and golden curtains. You felt like a trapped bird in a royal golden cage. Your thoughts swirl around in your mind like a tornado. Your entire world has been flipped upside down in the matter of weeks. Everything you had envisioned for your life has just gone up into flames. Now you were stuck here with these strangers, forced to marry a man you did not know or want. You sob into your pillow until exhaustion finally drags you into a restless slumber.

**********

The next morning you sleep in and take your time dressing. You had no intention on intending breakfast either and having to see your parents before they depart. Once you’re dressed you sit at the vanity and brush your hair in the mirror. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

“Come in.” You call, placing your brush down.

The door opens and Aemond appears with a plate of breakfast food. He walks over and places it on the same table as before.

“I assumed you would not be at breakfast with your parents in attendance.” He says flatly. “But you should eat.”

He says nothing else as he turns to leave.

“Thank you.” You say as he goes to close the door.

“Mhm.” He nods, turning his head to look at you before exiting and shutting the door behind him.

You sit down to the plate full of a variety of foods from the breakfast table. His caring gesture felt so confusing when he acts so cold towards you.

**********

You finish doing your hair before looking through the small bookshelf in the corner of your room. Most books seemed to be about boring histories until you find a book about dragons. You pull it from the shelf and spend the rest of your day reading through it. You had never even seen a dragon but now you were about to marry someone who has the biggest one in the world.

That evening you plucked up the courage to attend dinner. You would at least not have to see your family anymore but you worried for how the this family would treat you, especially with how you had isolated yourself away from them.

The guard leads you to the dining hall where the royal family were seated for dinner. You were surprised by the warm welcome as the king offers you a seat. You did not say much as you ate looking down at your plate. The light conversation was mainly between the king and queen. Aemond sat across from you and kept his eye on you the entire time.

When supper was finished Aemond offers to escort you back to your chambers. You say goodnight to everyone before taking his arm. The air was tense as you walked down the halls in silence.

“I would like to take you on a walk through the gardens tomorrow.” Aemond says once you reach your chamber, the offer catching you off guard.

“I… um, I’m not sure.” You respond looking down.

Aemond lightly lifts your chin with his finger, making your eyes meet his. The contact made your heart race before he casually drops his hand back down.

“You must be bored remaining alone in your bedroom.” He questions.

“No.” You scoff. “There are plenty of books to keep me occupied.”

“What are you reading?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?” You glare at him.

He simply shrugs and slightly smirks at your attitude.

“I am not sure the title… it’s just a book about dragons. I thought it sounded interesting.” You shrug.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” His smirk grows.

“No…”

“Would you like to?”

“I am stuck here in Kings Landing for the rest of my life… I am sure I will see one sometime.” You cross your arms.

“I have a better idea than a walk in the gardens. I will meet you here midday tomorrow.”

“But-“ You begin.

“Goodnight, Lady (y/n).” He says over you as he bows and leaves you.

“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You say under your breath once he’s out of ear shot.

**********

The next morning you attend a quiet breakfast. You pretend not to notice Aemond observing you the entire time. Midday you are reading in your chambers when there is a knock at the door. You answer the door to Aemond, as expected.

“Ready?” He asks.

“For what? You never told me where we are going.”

He lightly chuckles, the first time you have heard him laugh, and offers his arm. Without further questions you take his arm as he leads you through the castle.

You follow him into the dragon pit. You stop in your tracks when a gigantic dragon comes into your sight.

“There is no need to be afraid. She will not harm you unless I command it.” Aemond reassures you.

“And what if you did command it?” You question.

“Then you would be a pile of ash.” He smirks. “Lucky for you, I would not want to destroy such beauty.”

You blush at his response. He was acting so differently than the coldness you expected.

“Here.” He offers his hand to you.

You place your hand in his and feel instant sparks as he looks into your eyes, clearly feeling it too. He clears his throat before leading you over to Vhagar and moving your hand up to stroke her. She grumbles which startles you and you feel Aemond chuckle again behind you. He slowly removes his hand from yours as you continue to pet Vhagar.

“She seems to like you.” He says. “And she does not like anyone.”

You smile to him and see a rare smile on his lips. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks.

You look to him with shock in your eyes as you contemplate the question. The idea terrified yet excited you. Not many people get the chance to ride a dragon in their lives and you could not pretend like you have not dreamt of it before.

Aemond seems surprised when you agree and then a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Very well.” He smiles.

You watch as he climbs atop Vhagar before reaching his hand to you, gesturing to climb up. You pull yourself up the ropes before grabbing Aemonds hand. He hoists you the rest of the way so you are sitting behind him. You were certain he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his back.

“Hold on tight.” He smirks.

You wrap your arms tightly around him, your body pressing up against his. The heat in your cheeks rise as you realize this is the closest you have been to him.

You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as Vhagar begins to walk out of the dragon pit before taking off. Your breath catches as you are lifted up into the sky. You close your eyes and squeeze Aemond so tight you were surprised he could still breathe.

“Open your eyes.” Aemond says, somehow knowing you closed them.

You open your eyes and for a brief moment you worry you had fallen off the dragon and died. The way you soared above the clouds was a sight of the heavens. After that you don’t shut your eyes for another second, taking in the sky around you and the lands below you. Aemond circles back around and you squeeze him tight again as he begins to descend. Once you’ve reached the dragon pit Aemond jumps off and helps you down off Vhagar.

“How did you enjoy your first dragon ride?” He smiles to you.

“I- I- I am hardly ever speechless.” You say with a beaming smile. “That was indescribable.”

Aemonds smile remains as he kisses your hand. You gaze into each others eyes for a long moment before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. He smirks to you before taking your hand again and leading you out of the dragon pit.

You and Aemond were both more lively at supper than usual, talking of the dragon ride you went for earlier. Once the meal is finished Aemond escorts you to your chambers for the night.

“I had a wonderful time with you today.” You say to Aemond as you walk down the halls. “That was honestly the first time I have felt true happiness since being here.”

“I am glad. I quite enjoy your company here. So I hope I can continue to make you happy.” Aemond responds.

“Well, now you have the rest of our lives to do so.” You playfully nudge him, making him smirk.

Once you reach your chambers you look to Aemond.

“Thank you, my prince. For everything.” You think back to the meals he first brought you when you refused to leave your room.

“Of course, my lady… Soon to be, my princess.” He takes your hand to kiss.

You gaze into his eyes with a heartfelt smile. He smiles back at you before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When your eyes meet again there is a strange tension in the air. You watch him glance to your lips again before he suddenly cups your cheeks and brings your lips back to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you wrap your arms around his neck and his tongue dips into your mouth. Your heart races against your chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer against him. The desire between you both is electric. He pushes you up against the wall and you feel his hardness press against your hip, making you gasp into his mouth.

When your lips part you feel yourself almost lean back in, like a moth to a flame. You look at each other with wild eyes as you catch your breath.

“Goodnight, my lady.” Aemond places a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, my prince.” You say bashfully.

Once you enter your chambers you let out a heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You get ready for bed, your thoughts full of Aemond. You did not expect to develop any feelings in this new marriage but now he was all you could think about. The fire between you was indescribable. You fall into a peaceful sleep as you begin to imagine your wedding and future to come.

**********

The next day everything changes. King Viserys passed away overnight. All the small folk are gathered to witness Aegon being crowned as the new king. Your family had pledged fealty to Rhaenyra when she was first crowned heir. You panic and worry for what may come from the throne being usurped.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You hardly saw Aemond and when you did there was never private moments to talk. He even stopped escorting you from meals. You could tell it pained him greatly but he could not find the time right now with everything going on.

One night a knock on your door startles you awake. You rush over, hoping to find Aemond on the other side. Your face drops with disappointment when instead you find a guard standing there.

“What is it?” You ask sleepily.

“Please keep your voice down my lady.” He says as he hands you a hooded cloak, making you arch your brow at him. “Your parents received a raven regarding this treachery. They asked I bring you home.”

“Home? What are you talking about? This is my home now... And why would they ask a gold cloak to take me away from kings landing? Why would you agree?” You babble.

“I will explain everything on our way to Winterfell. Please, my lady. We haven’t much time.” He says, peering over his shoulder.

“I would need to collect my things…” Your brain was hazy from sleep trying to comprehend what was happening.

“There is no time, my lady. Please, we need to leave now.” He begins to panic.

With no time to give it thought, you simply nod and put on the cloak to hide your vibrant red hair. He leads you cautiously through the castle through hidden passages you had never known were there. Eventually they lead you to the streets of Kings Landing. There was a carriage waiting for you just outside the city gates.

Once you are on the road you finally have a moment to process your thoughts. Your heart sinks and your stomach twists at the thought of Aemond discovering your disappearance. Tears run down your face at the thought. You did not want to leave Kings Landing, you did not want to leave him.

The next weeks of traveling was even more dreadful than when you were going to Kings Landing. Multiple times you considered jumping out of the carriage and running back to the Red Keep.

You could hardly eat with your stomach in knots. Aemond blurred all of your thoughts. All you could think of was him. The intense kisses you shared, the amazing dragon ride, his acts of kindness. It broke your heart to imagine how much you must have hurt him by leaving. You had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving all your things behind. You worried how he would think you chose to abandon him, or worse, think you had been stolen in the night. Which in a way, you had been.

You begin to shiver as you get closer to Winterfell, the air getting colder. The guard notices and pulls a fur cloak out of a small chest inside the carriage. You wrap it tightly around you and try to steady your nerves.

“We should be there soon.” He says.

You simply nod and rest your eyes. The next time you open your eyes the carriage comes to a halt.

“Are we here?” You shoot up.

The guard nods and opens the door. You’re instantly blinded by the white of the snow. Your eyes adjust to see your parents waiting for you. You simply glare at them before your eyes land on Cregan and your expression softens. You had been so worried about Aemond that seeing Cregan nearly slipped your mind entirely.

You jump out of the carriage and do not hesitate to throw yourself in his arms. He hugs you back tightly and pats your hair.

“I thought I would never see you again.” He whispers in your ear.

You nod as the tears start again. You part and he wipes them from your face. You softly smile at him and he kisses your forehead.

“My darling, we are so glad you are safe.” Your mother interrupts to hug you.

“As soon as we heard Aegon was usurping the throne we knew we had to bring you home.” Your father says.

“Yes, thank you.” You say dryly. Your father goes to respond but you cut him off. “Thank you for dragging me away from my home, my life, everyone I have ever known. Then, deciding to bring me back and steal me away in the night. I am not sure the royals even know where I am.”

“We made them aware once you were a safe enough distance that they could not go after you.” He responds.

“Now you no longer have to marry that ‘cold prince’.” Your mother quotes your words from when you were leaving.

You think to Aemond finding out they had taken you back to Winterfell.

“Do you not think they will come after us? After me? They have dragons.” You cross your arms.

Part of you feared Aemond would come for you and steal you away. Another part of you hoped he would.

“They are far too busy with the coming war to worry about a stolen bride.” Your father says.

“That is all I have ever been to you, huh? A bride to be sold off to whichever family benefits you most.”

Before your father can respond you stomp off to the castle.

**********

You make your way to your previous bedroom, relieved to see it remains the same as you had left it. You sit down on the bed and cry into your hands. A knock at the door interrupts your sobs.

“Come.” You call dryly, assuming it was your parents.

Cregan cautiously opens the door and you stand from your bed.

“Cregan…” You say as you walk over to him. “I am so glad you are here.”

Cregan boldly closes the distance between you and pulls you into a searing kiss. All of the feelings you have for him come flooding back as you kiss him back passionately.

“(Y/n)… I have been so lost without you.” Cregan says lowly. “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms again.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper as you rest your foreheads against each other.

He kisses you again, this time lifting you up and walking you over to the bed.

“My love… I don’t know if I can wait for our wedding night to have you.” He says as he puts you back down. “You are all I have been able to think about since the moment you left.”

You meet his eyes and they’re filled with so many emotions. Heartbreak, sadness, worry, relief, desire, love. You gaze back at him with the same feelings in your eyes.

“Then don’t.” You whisper.

Without hesitation, he kisses you again before moving his lips to your neck causing a small whimper to escape you. You tug at his cloak until it drops to the floor and he moves to push yours off your shoulders. You begin to underdress each other layer by layer, stealing hungry kisses in between. When Cregans upper half is finally exposed you run your fingers down his toned stomach. He moves his hands along the curves your body as you stand in nothing but your shift. You step back slightly and he watches as you slowly lift the thin dress over your head.

“You are so beautiful.” Cregan whispers before capturing your lips again.

You crawl into bed and watch as he unties the strings of his pants and they drop to the floor. Your eyes widen at his hardened length on display. When your eyes dart back up to his there’s a fire that lights within you both. He crawls on top of you before taking your breast in his mouth as his hand massages the other. You squirm underneath him as your hands move to his hair. His lips make their way back up to your neck.

“I love you (y/n).” He says lowly in your ear.

“I love you, Cregan.” You breathe.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you with pure adoration.

“Are you certain about this, my love? We can wait until we are wed…” He asks, though you can tell there is only one answer he is hoping to hear.

You nod and kiss his lips. He dips his tongue into your mouth as he lines himself up to your entrance. You wince in pain as he slowly pushes into you. He moves slowly to give you time to adjust but also because he was barely holding it together. The feeling of you wrapped tightly around him made his head spin.

The pain soon begins to fade and you crave more of him. Something overcomes you as you move to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He looks at you with wide eyes as you begin rocking your hips against his. You grind against his length and it sends sparks through your entire body. Cregan quickly closes his eyes, the sight of you above him as pleasured moans begin to pour from your mouth had him barreling towards his release.

“My love, please…” Cregan breathes. “I’m not going to last much longer if you continue to do that.”

You smirk down at him and watch a small gasp escape him as you line him up to your entrance and begin to slide down onto his cock.

You moan louder and have to remind yourself to be quiet, you two were not really supposed to be doing this before you are wed. His choked out moans as you ride him makes the knot in your stomach tighten more and more. You cry out his name and before you could even comprehend what was happening your entire body feels like it lit up in flames. Your vision goes black and pleasure clouds your mind. Cregan finally opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone around him. The sight of you instantly triggers his release and he groans out as his fingers dig into your hips and he comes deep inside you.

You collapse onto the bed beside him and you both lay there panting. Cregan pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his neck as you hug him back.

“I feel like I’m dreaming, I just cannot believe I am holding you in my arms right now.” Cregan says softly. “Please promise me this is not a dream. Promise me you are real.”

You move your head to meet his gaze. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek as you smile warmly at him.

“I promise you this is real. I’m real.” You say before placing a kiss to his lips.

“I hope so.” He smiles warmly back at you as he lightly strokes your hand on his face.

**********

The next few days are busy with wedding preparations as your parents did not want to waste any time. You spend most of your time with Cregan, chatting away like you used to and stealing private kisses in between.

The day of your wedding was quick to come. You were filled with excitement and nerves as you put on the last of your furs.

Snow gently falls from the sky as Cregan comes into your view. You smile to each other as you walk down the snowy isle. He takes your hand in his and the ceremony begins.

“She is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of my days”

“He is mine and I am his. From this day, until the end of my days” You recite together as you gaze deeply into each others eyes.

You seal your marriage with a kiss. Cregan holds your hand up to the crowd and they cheer for you both. As you smile widely to the crowd, the thought of Aemond crosses your mind and there’s a pang in your chest. You push the thought away and try to focus on the present moment. Standing side by side with Cregan, whom you loved deeply, you looked like the true lady of the North that you were always meant to be.

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