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witherby · 27 days ago

Note

What would happen if Mouse got sick? Like super, probably at deaths door kind of sick? ok maybe that last part was exaggerating it a bit...But like almost 39 degrees fever, coughing to the point of gagging and vomiting, runny nose, fatigue, no appetite for anything, etc. Based off my own experiences when I get sick. I wanna know what they would do and who would panic the most. Who would lose the little sleep they already have even more. Who would think that the babeh is at deaths door. And who would be the most relieved when Mouse is better a few days later with the help of a paediatric approved medication

-🍨

I like this prompt a lot so I'm gonna do it. Hope u reaaaally like angst tho.

The Littlest Wayne: Sick Bed, part 1

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ Spoiler/content warning: Young sick child, fever, depiction of seizure ⚠️

It starts with a cough.

"Hey, careful," Jason says, patting your back. The water you'd been sipping sprays across the table as you choke. Tim reaches over to right the glass and Alfred goes and collects a rag to mop up the mess. "You okay?"

"Mhmm," you mutter, wiping your mouth with a napkin. "Sorry...I can clean it, grandpa Alfie."

"It's quite alright, Flittermouse." Alfred gently runs a hand through your hair. "Oh, my, you're quite warm. Why don't you head up to your room and I'll have someone bring a tray to you with soup and crackers?"

"Okay." You push your chair away from the table and duck underneath it, allowing the shadow of the furniture to swallow you up. Bruce watches the dark blob you've become slide out of the dining room and towards the stairs with less energy than usual.

"I'll take it, Alfred," Dick says before anyone else can volunteer, rising from his seat. He sets his leftovers in front of Jason as he passes, helping the butler prepare a tray for you. "Do we have any Tylenol for little kids? If not, I can just crush up a half-pill for them."

"Child-friendly medications will be found in the young master's en-suite bathroom cabinet," Alfred says. "It will just be a few minutes for the soup, Master Dick. I'd recommend you head upstairs and measure out a small dose for your sibling before it's ready."

"Kay, sure," he nods, excusing himself.

Dick hops up the stairs two at a time and enters the family wing of the manor, trailing his hand along the walls and door frames until he finds yours. He knocks lightly and rapidly, a silly little sequence to let you know which brother it is, then opens the door to let himself in.

Your bedroom is almost pitch black. Since the development of your powers, your space has changed to reflect your needs overtime, which means the overhead lightbulbs have been removed and the sheer, pastel blinds over your window have been replaced with thick blackout curtains. For your family who require some form of illumination to see, you have several night lights you pick and choose from; you currently have a round projector plugged in that casts aurora borealis across the ceiling (a gift from Tim) and you've activated the touch sensors installed in the floor that briefly light up everywhere Dick walks, leaving his footprints behind for several seconds until they fade away.

The furniture you originally had, designed in warm, woody colors with bright accents, have also been replaced with black hardware and dark materials. Your bed frame is a dip-dyed wood with silver accents, your mattress and sheets are black, and your dressers, nightstand, and closet have all been painted to match.

At first glance, the large bedroom looks like every goth kid's biggest dream, but the light from the hallway spills briefly into your space when Dick walks inside, showing the bright, colorful books sitting on your black bookshelves, the even more colorful clothes in your wardrobe, your vast collection of toys, and a litany of pictures and photos on all the walls. There is a vibrant, beautiful life in the darkness, which encapsulates you perfectly in his opinion.

"Hi, Flitty," he greets, moving slowly as his eyes adjust to the light. "Alfred's working on your soup, so big bro Dicky's here to do medicine time. Holler at me so I don't accidentally step on you in here."

"Okay," you say from his left. Dick turns and squints, spotting a lump on your bed. He smiles.

"There you are. Lemme see if there's any of the gummies in your med cabinet. Those ones don't taste all gross."

He steps into your bathroom and turns the fairy lights on, bathing the area in a soft glow, and rifles through your cabinet for a minute. Then he makes his way to your bed, sitting on the edge of it with some chewables and a glass of water.

"C'mere," he says, and you comply, shuffling across the bed to give him a quick hug. "Alright. Can you show me you're a big kid and take this for me? Then you'll get a nice bowl of soup and maybe some juice."

You comply without fuss. Dick hears more than he sees you take the medication in the low light, and you go back to hugging him when you're done. Dick wraps his arms around you and lies down, propping you mostly on his chest.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah. Just sleepy," you reply. "And my throat hurts kinda, from when I spit my water."

"Aw, I'm sorry. You only need to stay awake long enough to take a couple bites and then you can rest as long as you want."

"Okay...stay?"

Dick hums, running his fingers gently through your hair. He was supposed to go back to Blüdhaven this afternoon, but...

"Yeah, Flitty. I'll stay."

It turns into a fever.

"I'm sorry to turn you away when you've already come by, Delilah," Bruce says, meeting your private tutor in the vestibule. "Mouse came down with something yesterday, and I don't think they'll be up for lessons for the next few days. I forgot to tell you."

"Oh, that's absolutely no problem, mister Wayne," the tutor smiles, shaking her head. "I wish them a speedy recovery! Let me know if there's anything you need."

"I will, thank you. Take care!"

Bruce closes the door after seeing her out, the Charming Socialite mask slipping off his face as he heads for the stairs. He meets Alfred at the top with a nod, stepping past him and walking up to your bedroom door.

He gently knocks three times against the glossy wood, calling your name. "Can I come in?"

After a moment, he watches it click open, and you squint up at him in the doorway.

"Hi, daddy," you croak, voice dry and harsh from the progression of your flu. Bruce tuts and scoops your clammy body into his arms, carrying you back to your bed.

"Honey, you didn't have to come greet me," he says, "manners get thrown out the window when you're sick, remember? Let's get you tucked in."

You don't fuss or complain, which makes the worry flare up in Bruce's mind. He pushes it back, refusing to catastrophize a cold. All of his children get sick, it's not unheard of. A little fever is fine, and so is your lack of excitable energy. It's normal and expected.

"How do you feel?" He asks, pulling the blankets up to your chest. You squirm a bit, kicking them down.

"Hot," you say, "sleepy."

Bruce compromises by tucking the blanket around your tummy instead. You don't push it down any further. He pulls out a thermometer from his pocket and scans your forehead.

"Yeah, you are running a bit hot," he admits. An even one hundred degrees. Should be easy enough to control with careful attention. "Alfred says you refused breakfast this morning. Do you want to try eating something small for lunch? More soup?"

You shake your head. "Not hungry."

"I know you're not hungry, pumpkin," Bruce says, gently squeezing your hand. "But you don't wanna starve, either. Then you'll shrink up like a raisin! How am I supposed to snuggle a raisin?"

You smile a bit and give a wheezy huff of laughter. Bruce smiles back.

"So, will you try? You can have anything you want. I just need to see you take a few bites of something."

"Okay, daddy. Want...um... I want more soup please."

"You can have more soup," Bruce promises, running a hand through your sweatslick hair. He reminds himself to run you a bath in a couple hours. Maybe after a nap. "Do you want anything else?"

"Mmmyeah. Bedtime story?"

"Yeah," he says. "Any story you want, after we get some soup in you."

You smile again. It eases the knot of dread in Bruce's chest.

It gets worse.

Three days into it, your fever spikes in the middle of the night. You completely refuse any sort of food or drink all day, despite the angry growling of your stomach, and the family unanimously decides to bring you to the hospital in the morning to get looked at. Dinner without you is full of worry and tense glances toward the family wing, and it seems like not a lot of sleep is going to be had before they find out the total extent of your illness.

When tossing and turning in bed for a few hours doesn't lead him anywhere, Damian decides to give in to the nagging in the back of his head and pop in your room to check on you. He rushes to your bed when he sees you seizing and gasping for breath. Your temperature's shot up to a hundred and six and you don't react when he tries to shake you awake.

Fearful and, for once, feeling every bit the child he still is, he clutches your body to his chest and screams.

"BABAA!!"

The door slams open in seconds, though to him it feels like an eternity. Hal and Jason are coaxing Damian to let go of you and Bruce climbs on the bed to roll you onto your side, carefully wiping the foam and drool away from your mouth while he checks your vitals. Tim is in the hallway calling 9-1-1 and texting Dick to let him know what's happening.

"Dami, you gotta move," Jason says, placing his hands overtop his brother's. Damian's grip on your arm is so tight it's bruising. "Let go, they're okay. Let go."

"I'm tracking their pulse, you dumb bastard!" Damian snaps. "Release me!"

"You're hurting them, Dames," Hal says in his ear, wrapping his arms around Damian's waist. "Bruce has them, now. You have to let go and get out of the way for the paramedics."

Green eyes snap to your arm. He seems to finally take stock of what he's doing and eases off, letting Hal pick him up and pass him off to Jason, who carries him into the hallway.

"Stay out here," Jason says. "It's our job to keep out of the way for now."

"Who's going to let the paramedics in?" Damian asks, trying to pry himself out of Jason's grip. As much as he tries to crane his neck, Jason's standing too far away from your door to let him see how you're doing, and his iron grip is unyielding.

"Alfred's by the gate controls, he'll let them inside."

Tim gets off the phone with the emergency dispatcher and glances at your door with a frown. Every hitching gasp and choke you make can be heard from the hall, along with Bruce and Hal's barely-concealed, panicked murmuring, and he crosses his arms tightly and shuffles over to Jason now that his task is done.

"Can we wait downstairs?" He mutters. Jason keeps one arm wrapped around Damian and slings the other around Tim's shoulders, guiding them to the staircase.

"I want to stay!" Damian insists, pulling against Jason, who ends up needing to sling the little assassin over his shoulder to get him to move. "Todd!!"

"Robin," Jason snaps in his best Batman impersonation. It's a damn good one, because Damian quiets immediately, stiffening in his arms and ceasing his struggling without further protest. Tim freezes beside him, but Jason just pats his back and keeps guiding him down the stairs.

The trio is quiet as they file into the main living room. Jason and Tim sit on the couch and Damian gets propped up in his brother's lap. Try as he might, he can't wiggle out of Jason's arms.

"This is asinine," he hisses. "I should be up there."

"Doin' what?" Jason asks. "Bruce and Hal are both in there with Mousey. Alfred's about to guide the EMTs inside. Tim called 911 and then told Dick the situation. You were the one that first found 'em and got help."

Jason gives Damian a squeeze, propping his chin on top of his head.

"You saved their life, Damian. Ya don't need to do more than that right now. Let the grown-ups take the reins for a while."

"But I —"

"You've done more than enough," Jason insists, not unkindly. His tone has been uncharacteristically soft the whole time, Damian realizes belatedly. "I'm sure they'll thank you when they come out the other side of this."

Damian didn't do it for your thanks. He did it because he loves you. Despite you quickly approaching the age where Bruce might offer you the Robin mantle soon, which has filled him with more anxiety and anger than he's had in a long time, he loves you dearly and doesn't want anything to befall you.

In spite of everything, he's your big brother and he loves you just as much as he can't stand you.

"They will be fine," he mutters firmly. "There's no alternative."

"Right," Tim speaks up. He sounds like he needs the reassurance just as much as Damian. "M is gonna be okay."

The three of them turn their heads when several pairs of footsteps enter the vestibule. Four paramedics rush in with a stretcher and duffel bags of medical equipment. Alfred orders them in the direction of your bedroom with simple, firm instructions, and they head off.

The butler then turns, spotting them out of his periphery, and he clears his throat and adjusts the belt around his robe. He's still in his sleepwear, having rushed out of bed to help prep for the emergency like everyone else.

"I've had my fair share of exciting nights," he comments, "but I must say, they never become more enjoyable. Why don't you all join me in the kitchen and I'll prepare some drinks? Hot chocolate should suffice on a chilly evening."

"Sounds fantastic," Jason says, hopping to his feet. He lifts Damian up with him, denying him the chance to refuse, and with a glance and jerk of his chin, coaxes Tim to get up and follow after.

"Put me down," Damian says, reaching up to tug on Jason's night shirt. "I won't run back upstairs. I swear."

"Yeah? You double-swear? Don't make me chase you, kid, I really do not have the patience."

"On Father's life," he insists.

Jason sets him on the floor. Damian follows them into the kitchen and takes a seat at the island, cupping his hands around a warm mug of hot cocoa when Alfred hands it to him a couple minutes later. He watches the wisps of steam curl up into the air and dissipate, unable to stop thinking about your writhing body in bed. Your eyes had rolled back and your limbs had locked up, jerking uncontrollably. And the noises you were making...

The mug gives a foreboding creak under his grip. Alfred gently places his hand on Damian's back and gives it several soft pats.

"Do not fret, master Damian," he says, "our little Flittermouse is very resilient. An illness turning poorly won't keep them down for long."

"I know," he says. Alfred nods, and with a final brush against his shoulder, tends to Tim next to ensure he's also doing okay. When Damian looks at Jason, he sees him calmly drinking from his mug without so much as a furrow in his brow. But there's an almost imperceptible ricketing noise that means he's bouncing his leg nervously. It makes his stomach twist almost painfully, to know he's just as scared as everybody else.

Damian takes a deep breath. He sips his coco. He thinks of the froth pouring out of your mouth when Bruce rolled you into the recovery position. He puts the mug down.

He knows you'll be okay. You have to, because he just can't live with the alternative.

#el speaks #littlest wayne au #batfam x reader #angst #platonic batfam #🍨#tw: depiction of seizure

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moonpascaltoo · 7 months ago

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mattheo riddle

MASTERLIST • SLYTHERIN BOYS • 11/22/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 no smoke, only love in the air I @papercorgiworld

When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss.

𑣲 pansys interrogation I @/papercorgiworld

Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.

𑣲 mattheo I @/papercorgiworld

The things Mattheo Riddle does for love

𑣲 gryffindor fevers I @/papercorgiworld

While the Slytherins usually bully you, everything drastically changes when you go missing and Mattheo finds out he might have, what Pansy calls: Gryffindor fever.

𑣲 can’t catch me now I @unmarlou

your disappearance alongside the golden trio during the rise of his father leaves mattheo hallow.

𑣲 please please please I @writingsbychlo

mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

𑣲 hide and seek I @/writingsbychlo

you and mattheo play a little game on hallowe’en.

𑣲 for you I @mrsbarnesblog

Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

𑣲 whos afraid of little old me I @thestarsarebrightertonight

mattheo riddle isnt scared of anything , but when you blew up at him for messing up your potion. he felt fear for the first time. fear of a usually bubbly hufflepuff.

𑣲 i can fix him (no i really i can) I @/thestarsarebrightertonight

mattheo riddle is cold as ice , he always has been , so who are you to think you can fix him?

𑣲 the alchemy I @/thestarsarebrightertonighy

mattheo riddle hasnt left you alone with his relentless flirting since third year , youre sick of it! or are you?

𑣲 love blooms in strange places I @amongemeraldclouds

When Mattheo was assigned to help you tend to the greenhouse as punishment, he never expected detention could be so pleasant.

𑣲 apocalypse I @sadnymi

𑣲 cloud nine part 2 I @/sadnymi

The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

𑣲 on a night like tonight I @weasleyreidstyles

𑣲 starlight I @wordsarelife

mattheo had been liking you for years and when you loose your cat, it's finally his time to prove how good of a boyfriend he would be

𑣲 the game I @/wordsarelife

after one night with you, mattheo can't help but want more. sadly, you aren't the type for relationships

𑣲 unexpected I @suugarbabe

𑣲 magical creatures I @/suugarbabe

𑣲 mirrorball moon I @iris-qt

mattheo riddle goes out of his way to make your life a living hell. what happens when jealously takes over at the yule ball? how will he fix things…

𑣲 5 days to forever I @/iris-qt

mattheo riddle strikes up a bet with his friends which gives him 5 days to confess to the girl of his dreams. he tries and tries but something always seems to interrupt them.

𑣲 brain and heart I @muntitled

Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.

𑣲 a green and silver ring I @miryum

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

𑣲 brother best friend I @pizzaapeteer

𑣲 yes, really I @ageofstarkey

you’re drawing in the astronomy tower to clear your head & mattheo finds you

𑣲 poor thing I @/ageofstarky

you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.

𑣲 can’t move on I @0luv9

He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

𑣲 sharp kisses I @crvptidgf

after begging Mattheo to mark you as his, he finally gives in

𑣲 if i can’t have you baby I @angelfic

you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

𑣲 blurb I @amiableness

𑣲 heart on my sleeve I @theostrophywife

𑣲 one of the girls I @mxrccuryy

you're tired of being mattheo’s situationship but he doesn’t seem to get that until it is too late. another night of being left as just another one of those girls makes him realise that maybe you are different

𑣲 do you still care? I @sunkissedscribbles

mattheo’s plan to see if you still care backfires completely and ends with a breakup, but are you two able to resolve what's gone wrong?

𑣲 we aren't over I @slytherinslut0

FWB gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

𑣲 fear I @deadghosy

fearing to harm your lover, you drink blood from another. Making the riddle himself feel jealous and angry at how you could think he can’t take it.

𑣲 me and the devil I @ahqkas

they didn't understand how you did it, how you tamed the devil, how you made him fall so deeply in love with you that the darkness in him seemed to shrink in your presence. but the truth was, you hadn't tamed him at all. you’d simply loved him, and that was all mattheo riddle ever needed to be tamed

𑣲 home is wherever i'm with you I @lexamiele

𑣲 are you ladies alright? I @allurearia

where mattheo certainty didn't expect you of all people to open the door.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

Text

Baby, Mine

Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot

Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.

Bonus Chapter/Part 2

Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination

“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”

“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.

Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.

“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.

“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”

There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.

“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”

And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.

So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.

Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.

As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.

She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.

Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”

“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”

Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”

“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”

She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“

“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”

Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,

“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”

He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”

She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”

And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”

At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.

A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”

“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”

She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.

The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.

Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.

Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.

Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.

Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.

But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.

As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.

Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.

He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.

“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.

A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.

As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”

He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”

Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”

“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”

“At the Town House.”

Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”

Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.

“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”

“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”

Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,

“Secrets”

He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.

“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”

Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.

“Easy brother.”

Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.

“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.

“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”

Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”

Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.

Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”

“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”

“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.

Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”

She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.

“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”

Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.

“She kicked for the first time the other day.”

Rhys raised a brow.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”

Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.

“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“

Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.

“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”

Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”

“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”

As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”

Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”

“Okay, quieter than usual.”

Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”

“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”

She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.

Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.

She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”

Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”

She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.

“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”

Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”

She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”

A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”

Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.

Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”

And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.

It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.

The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.

“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.

“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”

Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”

Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”

He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”

————————-

“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.

“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”

“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”

“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”

“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”

“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”

“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”

“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.

Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”

“Are you ready for this?” He asked.

“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.

Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”

She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”

“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.

She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”

“I know better than to go against your intuition.”

With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”

As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”

She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”

As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.

The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.

Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”

Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.

She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.

“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.

Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.

“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”

An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.

“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”

Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.

“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”

The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.

Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”

“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”

Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”

“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.

“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”

Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”

Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”

Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.

“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.

Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”

She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.

“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”

She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.

The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.

Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”

Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.

————————-

Epilogue

Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.

He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.

Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”

Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”

Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”

The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”

Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”

Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”

Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.

#feyre #rhysand #azriel x pregnant mate #Azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel one shot #angst #sarah j maas #READ THE WARNINGS PLEASE #feysand #under the mountain #amarantha #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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bisexualoftheopera · 4 months ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland Love Languages

Heartslabyul

Riddle: words of affirmation (his mother was not good for his self esteem and he often doubts himself)

Trey: quality time (sit by him as he bakes, keep him company. He's a simple man)

Cater: words of affirmation (he's depressed, we all know it. Reassurance that you love the real Cater and not just Cay-Cay is greatly appreciated)

Ace: physical touch (he likes holding you, not much to say)

Deuce: gift giving (he might not have a lot of money but he crafts the loveliest little things for you. He tries his best to get the little details right and make it pretty but sometimes he gets frustrated. He tries his best)

Savanaclaw

Leona: all of them (he's used to being second fiddle, the second born, all that. Show him you love him, constant sleeping and all, by doin this for him. Tell him you love how determined he is, tell him he's smart. Maybe play chess with him, give him cuddles, redo his braids when they come loose)

Jack: physical touch (wolf boy needs to be touching you, he doesn't know why. His tail wags when he does too, he's ashamed but as much as he pretends to grumble, he won't stop touching you)

Ruggie: words of affirmation (reassurance that he isn't just a sneaky thief with sticky fingers, that you actually trust him. He love) gift giving (he doesn't have much and sometimes he thinks he likely never will. Little homemade gifts always make his heart soar, you actually put time and effort into the thing for him? He love so much)

Octavinelle

Azul: physical touch (as shy as he is, he loves being held) words of affirmation (body issues from his past still creep up so a little reassurance is nice)

Jade: quality time (he likes going hiking with you, pointing out different fauna. Be there, show interest, the eel relishes in it)

Floyd: physical touch (he squeeze. He love when shrimpy squeeze back)

Scarabia

Kalim: physical touch (baby loves being held, he loves it so much) quality time (given his large amount of siblings he doesn't really get alone time so he'd love to spend some time just the two of you)

Jamil: words of affirmation (poor baby is full of doubt because he was always in Kalim's shadow) acts of service (he's used to taking care of Kalim and serving others so he'd love it if someone would take care of him for once)

Pomefiore

Vil: words of affirmation (yes, he knows he's beautiful, he knows he's awesome and all that. But being typecast as a villain all the time gets a man down, even him)

Rook: physical touch (if he could envelop you constantly, he would. Only thing stopping him for now is classes and Vil)

Epel: gift giving (farmboy works with his hands a lot, he likes crafting and giving you what he's made. Make sure you keep them all)

Igenhyde

Idia: words of affirmation (poor fire boy is shy and always feel crappy, reassure the man) acts of service (maybe you entered a draw to try and win one of his favorite game related things, maybe you brought him a snack while he grinds levels. Show him you care)

Ortho (platonic): quality time (he likes spending time with the people he loves and he loves you like you're part of his family)

Diasomnia

Malleus: all of them (good luck because this pouty dragon will definitely be showing you so much love in so many ways and he wants it shown in so many ways too)

Lilia: quality time (he doesn't have much time left by fae standards (maybe 100? 200? years) it's a pity he only met you now. He definitely loves spending time with you and won't hesitate to take any opportunity presented)

Silver: quality time (he spends most of his time falling asleep which isn't ideal for dates and such but he's trying so hard to stay awake for you. Make sure he knows that being in the same room is still quality time)

Sebek: gift giving (fae express their love this way, of course he'd do the same. He's fae! What did you expect from him, human?) words of affirmation (he's insecure about being half human. He isn't as strong, he won't live as long, he gets judged by other fae for being half human. He's not human enough for the humans and not fae enough for the fae. Reassurance (word of the post) is key)

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afterglowsainz · 3 months ago

Note

oscar piastri & 3 🧡

did i fall out of line when i called you? | oscar piastri

song; mess it up - gracie abrams

part of the spotify wrapped special

Every time Oscar got too close, he messed it up.

But it was okay; you forgave him because he was Oscar. Oscar, who had commitment issues. Oscar, who was trying hard to have a lasting relationship with you. Oscar, who loved you deeply. But you also knew he was Oscar, who couldn’t have something good without ruining it.

The day he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you said yes, he went to a club to celebrate and ended up fighting a man who had simply asked you where the bathroom was, thinking the man was flirting with you. He ended the night with a split eyebrow and a broken nose.

The day he was supposed to meet your parents, he got so nervous that he drank too much whiskey and fell asleep, missing lunch with your parents and disappointing you in the process.

The first time you went to watch one of his races in person, anxiety got the best of him, and he didn’t pick you up on the way to the airport, using the excuse that he “forgot.” You knew he hadn’t forgotten—he had simply chickened out and was too coward to admit the truth.

Still, you forgave him every time.

It was just a few hours were left until an event McLaren was hosting with one of its sponsors, and Oscar had begged you to accompany him. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. But something felt off; something didn’t feel right.

When Oscar suddenly stopped replying to your messages, you got worried. Early in the relationship, it happened more often—he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend, so he wasn’t used to replying to messages. It was one of the many conversations where you had to remind him that you didn’t care if he didn’t reply instantly; you knew he was a busy man. But he couldn’t go four days without responding and then show up as if nothing had happened. After that talk, his communication improved.

With less than thirty minutes left before your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up for the event, and no sign of him, you knew—without him even saying it—that he had once again changed his mind about taking you, and you wouldn’t be attending the event that night. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: the beautiful long white dress you had bought specifically for the occasion and the elegant silver jewelry adorning your neck—all for nothing.

When it became obvious Oscar wasn’t coming, you took everything off, put on your pajamas, crawled under the covers, and turned on your computer to watch a movie. At some point during the night, you checked Instagram and came across the worst thing you could’ve seen. A video of your boyfriend at the event’s afterparty, dancing with a girl who was definitely not you.

Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong—he hadn’t kissed her or slept with her. But the feeling of betrayal consumed you entirely and settled deep inside.

It was over.

Months had passed since the breakup, and Oscar couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were his favorite thought whenever he didn’t have to use his brain power—while waiting in line for coffee, while driving from home to the MTC, when turning off the lights and trying to sleep. He thought about you and how much he missed you.

He knew there were many things you had forgiven him for that you didn’t have to. And he also knew that the one thing you hadn’t forgiven him for was what he regretted the most. Nothing had happened with the girl in the video—they’d only danced a couple of songs. But afterward, he felt dirty and missed you.

When he arrived at your place, he was shocked to see you crying and then shocked at how quickly your tears turned into angry shouts. You ended things, throwing him out of your apartment.

But tonight, he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to hear your voice and see you. He knew if he showed up at your place, you wouldn’t open the door. So, he settled for the second-best thing and called you.

Did he cross the line? Was it too soon? He knew the answer was yes when you didn’t answer his call. And when he called again, it went straight to voicemail.

The third-best thing, then.

Oscar opened your chat, the one he had neglected far too often but now couldn’t stop staring at, remembering the goodnight messages you used to send him and the ones wishing him luck in his races.

“I know I wasn’t a good boyfriend at all, and I know I don’t deserve you in any way, but I miss you. You made me a better person and a better man. I know every time something good happened between us, I managed to ruin it one way or another, and I’m truly sorry. But I also feel like if you let me back in, we can make it better. I can do better. I’ve improved my habits, and I’ve pulled myself back together. I’m so sorry for all the times I hurt you. I want to show you I’m not the same person as before. Please, give me one more chance.

I love you.”

Send.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri angst #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 #gracie abrams #spotify wrapped special

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kiame-sama · 6 months ago

Note

this is so stupid but im currently cracking up the idea of yandere lilia totally forgetting that his (somewhat new) object of obsession has not been informed of his actual age yet and trying to hit on them only to get like.

"Uh huh kiddo, what are you, fourteen?"

and just being stuck going 'no i swear to god im like 400 its a faerie thing please stop laughing i am a father of three-'

What Are you, Twelve? (Yan!Lilia x Reader)

(Changed from 14 to 12 because that is my usual go-to age to guess when kids (under 21) try to hit on me (over 25))

Warnings; Yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, yandere temper, age confusion, Silver/Sebek/Malleus have to vouch for Lilia, old man trying to have game,

~~~~~~~~

"You know, (y/n)," you wanted to sigh when you heard him start up again, knowing the odd lad from Diasomnia was back at his usual antics, "I certainly wouldn't mind a moonlit tousle through the grass with you any night... Or any day, for that matter."

Part of you wanted to laugh and part of you wanted to scream in frustration. This had been ongoing since you met the oddly young vice-housewarden of Diasomnia, Lilia. He was a cherub-faced pallid creature with pointed ears that made him look like an elf, and he was obviously quite interested in you. Problem was, you weren't interested because you were almost certain he wasn't even old enough to attend Night Raven College, let alone be hitting on you in such a direct way.

You would give credit where it is due, Lilia often spoke as if he were an old man and he could occasionally speak as if he were wise beyond his years. Still, that didn't change the fact that you were almost certain he was a child who got in to NRC due to an older sibling. You viewed the black and pink haired boy the same way you viewed Ortho; as a child. Hence the problem you now faced as that same cherub-looking boy shamelessly made a pass at you for the fifth time that day.

It was easy to ignore when you were in class despite how the young boy tried everything in his power to get your attention. However, you were now in the cafeteria and just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. You had been spending time by the table Diasomnia students often occupied because others avoided it, but now you may have to rethink the strategy as Lilia would come bouncing over the moment he saw you.

"Lilia, I just want to eat lunch."

"I would love to eat too! Perhaps later I can have a taste of you?"

Enough was enough. You tried to not snap at others- especially housewardens and vice-housewardens- but this kid was not getting the hint and you were getting annoyed. It had to be something his older siblings put him up to, as even now you could see the Diasomnia students watching the interaction keenly. You hadn't had much time in classes with these magically-gifted students, but you knew enough about them to know which student was likely Lilia's caretaker.

So without a word to Lilia, you stood and marched right over to the table the typical Diasomnia students frequented. The one with white hair- who you knew to be NRC's own 'sleeping beauty' Silver- and stood directly in front of him with a hand on your hip.

"Call off your little brother."

"... Excuse me?"

You pointed to Lilia- who had happily joined your side- with an exasperated sigh.

"Your little brother, call him off or explain to him that children shouldn't flirt with others who are several years their senior."

This made an odd choking sound escape the green haired one sitting next to Silver. Though you didn't know that one's name, you knew enough to recognize he was the one most often yelling in any class he attended. Before he could respond, the slow rumbling lilt of the housewarden of Diasomnia hummed out.

"Lilia is not Silver's little brother."

"Okay," you gave an exasperated shrug, "then whichever of you is supposed to be keeping an eye on him, teach him some manners. Trying to sleep with someone older than him will not end well for either party."

"... Child of man, enlighten me, how old do you believe Lilia to be?"

"Too young to be chasing me."

It was then Lilia spoke up, his usual playful smile gone and replaced with a more contemplative frown.

"I'm old enough."

"Kid, what are you, twelve? I am way too old for you."

The lasting moment of silence almost made you wonder if your assessment of the boy's age was incorrect as those sitting at the table all shared a look. Lilia was no longer the bouncing excitable boy he typically behaved as, straightening up as if he were offended by your assessment.

"Twelve years-? Ah, it seems I've forgotten to inform you of my true identity. I am not human, (y/n). I am Fae. We age differently compared to humans-"

"Okay, so you're several decades old, but you are mentally tweleve. I'm still too old for you."

"... Silver is my son. I raised him, Sebek, and Malleus from infancy or near infancy."

"And I'm the Queen of Hearts. Lies are still lies, Lilia. No matter how well you spin them."

"No, I'm being serious. I am basically a father of three-"

"Lilia, I'm being serious as well. Stop chasing people older than you. It's not alright to ask someone older than you to sit on your face, okay? You shouldn't even be thinking about these things until way later in life."

You walked from the table, content that you had made your point clear as you went back to your own lunch. Lilia was beside himself with surprise and he couldn't help but look to his three sons for some kind of aid or assistance.

"I am not twelve."

"Father... I've told you, if you insist on acting younger than your age, humans are going to believe you are actually young."

"Then you talk to them, Silver. Or I may have to drag Crowley into this. My youthful appearance should not interfere in my attempts to gain their affections. That would explain why they look at me so oddly whenever I try to proposition them, though. Still, you don't want your dear father to end up a lonely old man do you?"

"Of course not, Father, you would be an excellent match for anyone-"

"Exactly my thoughts! So be a good son and wing-man for your father."

"... This is going to end poorly."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x reader #What Are You Twelve? TWST

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scarlet-star-witch · 7 months ago

Text

The moon and his sun (Epilogue)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 6 K

Warnings: you know the drill, its fluff and angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Amond startled awake, his bloody and violent nightmare fading as his eye adjusted to the dark room around him.

He instinctively reached out beside him, searching for his beloved wife, but when his hand met nothing but soft sheets, he sat up abruptly. His heart that had been slowing as he relaxed from the reality that his vicious nightmare had been just that, a nightmare, began to race once more.

His eye searched the room frantically, his breathing becoming heavy as fear gripped him tightly.

Remnants of his nightmare, thoughts of Daemon ambushing his home to enact his bloody revenge, lingered in his mind and suddenly, all he could think of was his damned uncle ripping his family from him.

He sprang out of bed and raced out of their chambers. He stood still, his chest heaving as he took in the calm stillness of the night, no guards shouting or racing towards danger, no screams of terror, no smell of smoke from destructive dragon fire, nothing that signaled an incoming fight.

Yet his heart still raced.

His feet moved quickly, taking him to the room across the hall.

His throat was tight with worry as he rushed into the room, his gaze immediately locking onto the small body curled in bed. He let out a ragged breath at the sight of his daughter unharmed and sleeping peacefully.

He looked around her room, inspecting for danger, his thoughts not yet derailed from the possibility of an impending threat. He let out a harsh breath when he realized there was no intruder, no one that dared to hurt his precious daughter.

He stepped towards her bed slowly, trying not to make a sound and disturb her sleep.

He felt his lips twitch upwards, a smile growing as he looked down at the sleeping angel before him. His beautiful daughter, his perfect little Valia.

She was the perfect mix of him and his wife, with her long silver hair and eyes that sparkled with delight like her mothers.

She certainly gained her mother’s mischief and was seldom seen without a toothy grin that never failed to bring a smile to those that passed her. At only two years old, she had changed his entire life.

His entire heart beat for her and her mother.

They were the ones that got him out of bed in the morning, that brought him a smile every single day, that made him feel joy and love he couldn’t have ever comprehended.

He gently tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face, his heart aching just looking at the life he helped to create, the life he cherished more than his own. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her blankets up higher around her, protecting her from the chill in the room.

With one last, loving look to his little girl, he left her room, no longer feeling as though his lungs were constricted with fear. All he needed was to see her safe and sound to soothe every one of his worries that lingered from his nightmare.

Now he needed to find his wife.

With his nerves no longer haywire, he knew exactly where she would be.

He had to fight his growing smile as he made his way down to the kitchens.

It wasn’t unusual that she would wake him in the dead of night, pleading with him to bring her honeycakes, but it was the first time she hadn’t woken him and gone herself.

He slowed his pace, quieting his steps as he approached the kitchens, peeking his head around the corner, his eye softening in an instant at the sight of his wife.

Even after their years together, she never failed to make his heart race in the best way possible. He felt as though every ounce of his worry and fear dissipated into nothing as he looked at her, as he was reminded of what he’d been able to create in his once miserable life.

“I don’t know why I bothered to worry. I should have known you’d be down here instead of in our bed.”

She startled slightly at the sound of his voice, placing her hand over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him in silent admonishment for sneaking up on her.

“Do you have so little faith in me, my love, you didn’t task me with bringing you your midnight snack?” He asked as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to keep his expression neutral and not melt as she smiled at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through her large bite of honeycake. It was the sight of crumbs falling over her lip that finally broke him, smiling and shaking his head as he laughed. “I didn’t want to wake you again, but I was starving.”

She immediately leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, sighing heavily in relief as his hands cradled under the large swell of her belly, giving her back a rest from the weight of the babes she carried.

At only 6 moons pregnant, she felt like she was already minutes from popping. The Maesters were sure it was twins this time around, something she wasn’t as thrilled about as Aemond. It was easy for him to be excited when it wasn’t his back that was constantly aching.

She could easily let herself fall into her husband’s arms, but despite his loving touch, she couldn’t help but worry, as she always did, about the dark circles under his eyes, about why he was awake yet again in the middle of the night.

“Did you have another nightmare?” She asked quietly and the moment she felt him tense behind her, she knew she had her answer.

She let out a long breath, her hands moving to cover his, gently caressing over his knuckles, admiring the strong hands that held her and her daughter so gently, that protected them so fiercely.

“It’s been years. Rhaenyra knows what will happen if she dares to threaten you.”

“It is not Rhaenyra I worry about.” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words aloud, speaking his fears of his uncle’s retaliation into existence, would summon him.

“Do you think he would risk his Queen’s reign to get revenge?”

“I think his bloodlust overrules anything else he deems to care for.” Aemond replied bitterly, the mere thought of the man enough to rattle him and ruin the peace he had created for himself. “He is reckless and stubborn. If he decides he wants revenge he will stop at nothing until he gets it.”

Her heart jumped at the thought. The notion of the last few years of bliss they’ve had dissipating back into a violent and bloody war that left no survivors was enough to spring tears to her eyes, ones she tried desperately to hold back.

Aemond noticed the shift in her immediately and held to her tighter, his lips pressing soft kisses along the slope of her neck.

“You know I would protect you. You and Valia would never face any danger as long as I live.” He whispered, assuring her of his lifelong purpose to never let another wound mar her body, to never let his daughter know of any pain.

He took her hand in his, his eye tortured as his thumb caressed the scar on her palm, the vicious reminder of that night and what they had lost. A shuddering breath escaped him as the memory of that night and the months of agony that followed wreaked havoc on him yet again.

They seemed distant yet not far enough away to let him breathe easy.

She turned in his arms to face him, her hands now cradling his jaw as she looked at him intently.

“I have no doubt that you will protect us and every single person on this Island.”

He looked bashful yet prideful from her comment, as if it were exactly what he needed to hear, but he couldn’t handle it. He looked at her lovingly and leaned forward, kissing her deeply.

She melted into him, holding him closely, feeling his body unclench, finally letting his fears drift into the back of his mind.

A kick against his stomach had him pulling away, his eye wide with surprise. He laughed in delight as he placed his palm against her growing stomach, feeling his little dragons kick against him.

“There are my loves.” He mumbled as he looked down at her belly in wonder, already counting down the days until he could hold them in his arms. “Don’t give your mother too much trouble, my dragons.”

She hummed and leaned into him.

“If only they listened to you.”

Aemond smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, pulling the plate of honeycakes closer, the only salvation he could give her in this state. She rolled her eyes with a huff of laughter as she took another dessert, hoping it would calm her growing babies enough to let her sleep for the rest of the night.

As Aemond held her, feeling his babes kick against his hand, knowing his precious daughter was safe in her bed, his thoughts drifted to those that were left of his family that resided in King’s Landing.

He knew if they ever dared to threaten his family he would show them no mercy.

She let out a louder than intended groan as she sat on the bench that overlooked the water, blowing out a deep breath as she finally gave her feet some well needed rest.

She rubbed at her swollen belly, dreading that she had many more weeks of this state.

“Momma!”

She looked up, plastering on a wide smile as she waved to her daughter who was splashing in the waves. She shared a knowing look with Helaena, who nodded in silent assurance that she would grab her rambunctious daughter if she waded out too far into the water.

She appreciated Helaena’s watchful eye, but with her daughter’s faithful cousins at her side, she knew she had little reason to worry.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys loved their cousin fiercely and they were seldom seen without the little two year old following them wherever they went.

She watched the children play with a wistful smile, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their two babes, the growing number of children in the castle a salve to the torment they had endured just years ago.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, what they faced in King’s Landing.

Some days were easier to live, where the memories did not rear their ugly head, when the loss of their first babe did not make her want to bury herself beneath her sheets and pretend the world outside her door didn’t exist.

The days the memories sought to destroy her, all it took was one look at her precious daughter and she was powerless against the love that bloomed for her child, healed in a matter of seconds with one look at her sweet smile.

She couldn’t deny that she held the same fears as her husband, that she sometimes found her eyes skyward, seeking out the familiar figures of dragons headed their way, ready to burn Ixtal to ash.

She could only hope her threats to Rhaenyra just mere years ago were enough to hold her off. Surely, she treasured her position as Queen more than she longed for revenge.

“My love.”

She was broken from her thoughts, turning to see her husband approaching with a smile. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he took a seat next to her, his hand immediately laying over her belly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She answered quickly, her reflexive answer to the question he asked many times a day.

Aemond moved his hand to her back, rubbing in soothing motions, wishing he could take her aches away, wishing she didn’t have to go through so much pain to bring their precious babes into the world.

She leaned into him, soaking up his touch. She let her eyes fall closed, her heavy thoughts dissipating with the continued motions of his hand.

Despite the ache in her feet and back, despite the nausea that had yet to leave her since that morning, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was in absolute bliss to be in her husband’s arms.

“Where’s Valia?”

“In the water.” She told him without opening her eyes.

Aemond felt as though his chest bloomed with love as he watched his daughter stomp in the waves. Her hand held tightly with Jaehaera, their loud squeals of laughter every time a wave crashed against them bringing a smile to his lips.

He wished he could have known all those years ago that the sound of his daughter’s laugh would soothe every wound within him, that she would heal every slight he ever experienced.

His eye narrowed, his stomach flipping as he watched his sweet daughter begin to climb along the rocks at the shore.

“Be careful!” He called out loudly, startling his wife out of her daze.

“She’s fine.” She assured him, placing her hand over his.

“She could slip.”

“I was younger than her when I began climbing those same rocks and I was fine.” She told him, waving off his concerns. Her daughter’s wandering nature was a harsh reminder of the torment she had put her own parents through at her age.

“Isn’t that how you got this scar?” Aemond asked, his finger trailing along the faint mark on her forearm.

“No, I got this after falling out of my tree when I was five.”

Aemond huffed and rolled his eye, his heart already aching for the stress his daughter would surely put him through over the next decade.

His wife giggled, earning her a playful scowl, which only made her laugh harder.

“Breathe, my love. You’ll be gray by the end of the year if you do not relax.”

He scoffed, his fingers just barely grasping at her waist before she jerked away, latching onto his wrist before he could tickle her.

“Don’t you dare.”

Aemond smiled cheekily, the sight making her stomach twist. Her raging hormones swept over her, the mischief in her eye suddenly turning to desire. He noticed immediately, having seen that look enough times over the years to know exactly what she wanted and his own eye darkened in realization.

“Later.” He promised, though he couldn’t deny that it took all of his self control to not drag her to their chambers right that second.

But he had been stuck in a council meeting all morning and he longed to be with his family for the afternoon.

He could at least wait until his daughter was put down for her nap to ravish his insatiable wife.

Aemond let out a sigh, a sound of pure contentment as he watched his daughter play, his wife in his arms, the warm breeze of Ixtal adorning his skin.

It was paradise, everything he had wanted since he was a boy.

He was content to stay in that moment forever.

Suddenly a faint noise sounded that raised every hair on his body, the quiet trill one he recognized, but couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stiffened and sat forward, his keen eye surveying for a threat. He almost thought he had imagined the noise when he heard it again, this time louder.

His chest heaved with nervous breaths as he looked to the sky, his wide eye darting between the clouds.

“Aemond?” She asked, having felt him tense beneath her.

Her own fear began to rise as she noticed the look in his eye. Her gaze followed his own, her stomach dropping as dreaded anticipation fell over them.

Suddenly, a lithe red dragon descended from the clouds, a shrieking whistle sounding across the Island.

Caraxes.

Aemond felt as though the blood in his veins froze as his nightmare played out before him.

He was on his feet in a second, his hands holding tightly to his wife as he helped her stand. He barely heard her call out to him fearfully as he started to run, screaming for their daughter.

Helaena’s eyes were wide with fright as she yelled for her children, frantically gesturing them to her side.

“Go!” Aemond yelled to her as he ran past her.

There was a ringing in his ears as he sprinted, his gaze locked onto his daughter who was trying to get down from the rocks, her face twisted in fear. It was like a dagger in his heart.

He cared little for his boots that were now soaked as he raced through the waves to get to her. His arms were out the second he was close enough.

“Daddy.” She sobbed as he made it to her. She practically fell into his arms, her little body that shook with her frightful cries tearing away pieces of him.

“I’ve got you, my Sweet. You’re ok.” He assured her, cradling her to him tightly as he ran out of the waves.

His heart was in his throat as he approached his wife whose eyes were locked onto the approaching dragon.

“Get inside.” Aemond ordered, mournfully passing Valia into her arms.

“Aemond-”

“Go, now!”

“Aemond, please-”

He kissed her fiercely, the moment entirely too brief before he pulled away, his wide eye betraying his terror. He placed his hand on his daughter’s back, watching as she clung to her mother who looked equally as terrified.

A lump grew in his throat that made it hard to breathe. His eye met his wife whose tears brazenly fell down her cheeks.

“I will come back to you, I promise.”

He spared one final look to his daughter before tearing himself from their side, racing desperately towards Vhagar.

She could only watch as her husband left, her chest heaving, her hands clutching to her daughter who cried into the crook of her neck.

The distant screams of townsfolk and guards broke her out of her daze and she moved as quickly as she could while heavily pregnant with twins into the safety of the castle.

Helaena was immediately by her side, taking Valia from her, who only cried harder at being separated from her mother, but she couldn’t hold her for long in her state.

“It’s ok, darling.” She assured her shakily, her hand running through her silver hair as she clung to her waist, her fingers tangling in the fabric of her dress.

“I didn’t see it.” Helaena’s voice caught her attention, sounding despondent, as if trapped in a daze. “I didn’t see Daemon coming. I didn’t dream of this. I should have dreamt this, I should have known.”

“Helaena, this is not your fault.” She told her sternly, grabbing onto her hands tightly. “We all knew this was a possibility.”

Helaena didn’t looked assured by her words, the furrow between her brows deep, her eyes still wide with horror.

“Come on, we have to get the children to safety.”

It was chaos within the castle, guards rushing outside, as though there was anything they could do to defend themselves against dragonfire. Townsfolk were corralled in, the mass of people crying in fear.

Their home had never seen conflict, every other house in the realm was smarter than to attack their house, knowing what dire consequences they would face.

Apparently Daemon defied even the barest of logic.

She heard her name called and turned to see her father approaching, the worry palpable in his expression.

“Where is Aemond?”

“He is going to Vhagar.”

He nodded and reached for her hand, the only comfort he could give her.

“What do we do?” She asked tearfully.

“We pray Aemond wins. It is all we can do.”

The fury was burning within him like wildfire.

Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, forcing him to have to steady his trembling hands as he gripped at the saddle as Vhagar took to the skies.

While Vhagar was slow, she was bigger than Caraxes and through their bond, she could feel his anger, the pure protective rage that radiated from him, leaving her equally as bloodthirsty as her rider.

Caraxes roared and even with the distance between them, Aemond could see the hatred on Daemon’s face, his expression twisted with derision as he commanded his dragon forward.

Aemond straightened his shoulders, his jaw clenching, a brief thought of his wife, daughter, and unborn children flashing through his mind, only fueling him forward.

“Vhagar, attack.”

The roar Vhagar let out was enough to shake even the most hardened of soldiers, but it did little to stray Daemon from his vendetta.

Aemond vowed it would be his uncle’s last mistake.

The crowd of people crammed into the throne room cried out in unison as the screeches of dragon were heard, shaking the very foundation of the castle.

Valia whimpered and held to her tighter, her daughter’s fear like a lance to the heart, striking her fiercely.

Her heart was racing, her hands shaking. They felt like sitting ducks, waiting for their turn to face the slaughter.

She thought of her husband, fighting alone, fighting a battle no one but him could fight, and it turned her stomach.

She placed her hand on her chest, as if she could will her dangerously racing heart to slow.

“You need to breathe.” Her mother told her, holding tightly to her hand. “This stress isn’t good for you or the babes.”

“I don’t think breathing will deter my stress.” She responded sharply. “I can’t take this. I cannot just sit here doing nothing while my husband risks his life.”

Her mother clicked her tongue and looked at her fiercely.

“Unless there are spare dragons laying around waiting for your claim, there is nothing else you can do.”

She let out a shuddering breath, burying her face in her hands, fearing she was only seconds away from breaking. Another deafening roar shook the castle, causing another wave of screams and frightened cries to ring out among the room.

She looked around at the faces of those around her, the fear palpable. She couldn’t stand it.

“Stay with Valia.” She told her mother, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter’s cheek before hurrying forward, pushing her way through the crowd.

She dimly heard her mother calling out to her, but she ignored it, moving forward with haste.

The halls were sparse, leaving no one to question her journey.

She moved slower than she would’ve liked with the two babes she carried, but she eventually made her way up the stairs to their chambers. She didn’t exactly know what she was doing, she didn’t know what she’d gain from this, all she knew was she couldn't stay in that room as she worried for her husband.

With a heavy weight settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe, she opened the balcony doors, her eyes immediately landing on the two dragons in the sky locked in battle.

She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears that brimmed in her eyes, threatening her faint vision of her husband.

She watched as Craxes and Vhagar fought, as the two mighty dragons threw brutal blows, claws slashing, teeth tearing, and fire burning in a deadly stand.

Caraxes claws slashed against Vhagar’s belly and the sound the ancient dragon let out made her stomach twist, threatening to bring her to her knees. She held tightly to the railing in front of her, the only thing that kept her upright as she watched the dragons tangle viciously.

She flinched at every pained sound the dragons made, every swipe that hurt Vhagar, every snap of Caraxes’ jaws that were too close to Aemond.

“Please, please, don’t leave me.” She whispered into the wind. She hoped the gods were listening, she hoped they would show her mercy, that Aemond would be victorious, that their peace would not equate to only a matter of years rather than the lifetime they longed for.

“What are you doing up here?”

She jumped, turning to see her father approaching her worriedly, his hands latching onto her to pull her back, but she struggled, refusing his advances and stood strongly, her gaze never leaving her husband’s dragon in the sky.

“No, I can’t leave!”

“You are torturing yourself. This isn’t good for you.”

“I need to see him.”

“You don’t need to see any of this. If Aemond were to perish-”

“Then I need to be here. I need to be with him until the last second, even if he cannot even see me. I will not let myself waste a single second I have left of him.” She sobbed, her heart aching at the possibility of her husband failing, of this being his final day.

Her father’s shoulders sagged, looking at her devastatingly and he quickly pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried into chest.

Another cry of pain from Vhagar had her flinching, burying herself further into her father’s arms.

Sobs shook her body as she silently prayed for Aemond, for their family, for the babes within her. She wouldn’t survive if she lost him, if her babes never got to meet their father who already loved them so deeply.

A bloodcurdling screech had her looking back to the sky, her eyes widening as she saw Caraxes neck trapped within Vhagar’s jaws, blood pouring from the wound, falling from the sky like poison rain.

She heard the shouts of the guards that lined the castle walls as the dragons writhed in the sky, plummeting fast to the ground.

She flinched as a scorpion bolt shot through the air, dangerously close to Vhagar. She grit her teeth and looked down at the row of guards, a scream of rage bubbling in her throat for their carelessness.

A second bolt tore forward and hit true, striking Caraxes in the wing.

She almost stumbled over her own feet as she watched the dragon fall. Turning on her heel, she was racing out of the room before the dragon could hit the ground.

Her father sighed as he watched her quickly retreating form, knowing it was useless to stop her.

He looked out to the dragon that now lay on his shores and, as Vhagar landed with a mighty roar, he turned, content to not watch the slaughter about to unfold and overtaken with relief that his good son had triumphed.

Across the castle, with tears steadily falling down her cheeks, her breath leaving her in heavy, frantic pants, she pushed past the line of guards, ignoring their warnings to step outside.

“Aemond!” She screamed the moment she was outside, holding tightly to her belly as she descended the stairs down to the beach.

The first thing she saw was the body of Caraxes laid out on the sand, pools of blood blooming, staining the sand red.

She then noticed Vhagar next to the dead dragon, her maw bloody.

She could have collapsed from relief, but the absence of her husband kept her moving forward. She called out to him again, sounding more desperate.

Among the wreckage that was the fallen dragon, a lone figure emerged, limping forward slowly. Her breath caught in her throat and before she could realize, she was racing forward, little care given as to who she was headed towards, but she already knew.

She would’ve felt if it were Daemon, if Aemond had been the one to succumb to the battle. Her heart would’ve given out the moment he ceased to breathe, she was sure of it.

The closer she got, she could make out the eyepatch, the tall form of her husband, the figure so familiar it healed every ounce of despair that had been so close to overtaking her.

She sobbed and cried out his name again.

Aemond limped forward quickly, his brows furrowed at the sight of her, his stomach flipping with a mixture of relief yet annoyed that she was so close to such a violent display.

His arms opened the second she was close, allowing her to fall into his embrace. He hissed as a wave of pain washed over him, making him stumble against the weight of her crushing hug.

She pulled away, looking at him worriedly, her hands hovering over him, unsure of how to help him as he stumbled to his knees.

“W-what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“It’s my leg.” He choked out. She slowly got to her knees, wincing with effort, noticing the gash in his pant leg and the dark blood that stained his calf.

“Daemon-”

“He’s dead. I made sure.” Aemond told her, his voice void of emotion, making her nerves rise once again in a quick second.

She cradled his face in her hands, forcing his head up to face her, noticing he was in a shocked daze, his eye hazy and distant.

“Look at me, please.” She spoke gently. “You are alright. You won. You protected us.”

“I protected you.” He repeated weakly, as if it were now just registering to him, his victory, his triumph over his famed uncle.

He practically shuddered, a trembling exhale falling past his lips.

“It was- he almost- he could have-” He rambled brokenly, unable to piece together his words, unable to say outloud how close he had come to succumbing to his uncle. Dark sister had pierced his leg, but if it had not been Vhagar swerving at the last second, his sword would’ve torn right through his eye.

“He didn’t. You did it, Aemond. You defeated him. You saved us all.”

Aemond looked to her, as if just now realizing she was real, that she was truly before him, alive and breathing, just as he was.

He let out a choked breath, tears falling down his cheek as he suddenly lurched forward, wrapping her in his arms, holding to her so tightly it stole her breath away.

Her body trembled just as he did, the two lovers locked into an embrace that held the franticness of a brush with death.

“I’ve got you, Aemond. You’re safe now, we all are.”

Her whispered words had a sob escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. It all hit him so suddenly, the adrenaline fading, leaving him with the reality of how close he had been to losing it all, how close his family had been to danger.

“Valia, where is she? I need to see her, I need to make sure she is ok, that she didn’t-”

“She’s fine, Aemond.” She assured him. “She’s frightened, but she is unharmed.”

He nodded, breathing out heavily, the dragon blood pumping through his veins singing, leaving him shaking in her arms.

“You’re ok.” She whispered.

It was as his wife held him tightly, her hand stroking through his hair, that the pain in his leg faded, retreating into the back of his mind, as he let himself be enveloped in the love his wife freely gave to him.

He was victorious. He didn’t feel it as he drove his sword through his uncle’s heart as he lay broken and bloody beneath his dead dragon.

He only felt it in the arms of his wife, feeling the babes in her womb kick under his hand, knowing he would see his daughter safe inside.

They made it real. They made the title of Kinslayer twice over bearable and more than worth the price.

Barely a week later, she sat in the council chamber, her hand latched in her husband’s. He had scarcely left her side since the attack, he had barely slept to keep an eye on her, commanding Valia sleep in their bed so he could watch them both, ensuring their safety.

During the day, he was insatiable, taking every moment they had alone to ravish her until she screamed, his grip on her tight and desperate. He took her with a fervor as if they were newlyweds again.

He could barely keep his eye off of her since he feared he would lose her.

“We have received word from Rhaenyra.” Her father announced from his seat at the head of the table. “It appears Daemon had acted against her orders. She has sent her deepest apologies for any harm he caused.”

Her eldest brother scoffed at the news.

“She’s trying to save face so we do not storm King’s Landing.”

“Is that really something we want to do?” She chimed in fearfully.

“No, I do not wish for war.” Her father assured her. His gaze then turned to the silver haired Prince, noticing he had yet to speak a word.

“Rhaenyra does not deserve the throne. Especially not after this.”

“Aemond should sit the throne.”

“We can rally our allies.”

“Rhaenyra might just abdicate when she sees the support we garner.”

The voices in the room overwhelmed him, overlapping in a barrage of noise that only seemed to aggravate his already pounding headache.

“Aemond, what is it you wish to do?” His father by law’s voice cut through the cacophony of chaos, silencing everyone else in the room.

His words seemed to startle him out of his thoughts and his hand involuntarily squeezed hers, as if he needed comfort in that moment.

“This is your family. It is you who defended our home. Whatever you decide, we will respect.”

“I do not want the throne.” Aemond finally spoke, his voice terse. The mere thought of the throne, yet another war over that stupid chair, turned his stomach. “It has caused enough trouble. Rhaenyra can have it.”

“So we let this insane attack go unpunished?”

She winced as one of her father’s advisors pointed his glare towards her husband.

“Daemon is dead. I’d say that is punishment enough for his actions, don’t you?” Aemond countered, eyeing the man across the table with vitriol.

The atmosphere in the meeting was awkward, with few words spared as they adjourned. She was slow as she stood, her gaze on her husband as he made no move to stand from his seat.

She spared a look with her father, nodding to him, silently assuring him that she would soothe her husband.

Only when the others left and it was just the two of them in the room, did she face him, leaning against the table and taking his hand in hers, stopping his anxious fidgeting.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“I do not wish to fight in a senseless war.”

“Even for a throne you deserve more than her? A throne you could easily win.”

Aemond let out a deep breath, his mind a mess of thoughts. He once desired the throne, before he truly saw the trouble it caused and the crushing weight of responsibility and sacrifice that came with it.

Now it was the last thing he desired.

“I am not going back to King’s Landing. I will never take my daughter to a place that holds nothing but pain. I will not take you back to the place I almost lost you.” He told her reverently, looking up at her deeply, as if he was desperate that she would feel the same way.

Her breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly aware of just how much she did not wish to venture back to the place that had almost crushed them.

She nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“But Rhaenyra-”

“She is already facing punishment.” Aemond interrupted swiftly. “If she loved Daemon even a quarter as much as I love you, then she is facing the worst possible consequence she could ever face with his death. Let her live with it, let her suffer with her broken heart.”

She shouldn’t have felt her heart swell at his words, so dark and harsh against a woman that had caused them so much pain, but she couldn’t deny the swell of emotions she felt for him in that moment.

She reached out, caressing her hand through his hair. His eye fell shut as if her touch brought him more relief than any potion or medicine ever could. His hands found her waist, ushering her forward to sit upon his lap.

He held to her strongly, as if there was still a threat that could rip her away from him.

“Our home is here. Our children belong here and I will never, for any reason, step foot in that place again.”

His words were absolute, leaving no room for argument, not that she had any.

“I have everything I need here. That will never change.”

She smiled and let her forehead fall against his, her lips finding his effortlessly. They kissed sweetly, the gesture one of nothing but pure relief and assurance that they still had each other and always would.

“I love you.” She whispered and Aemond smiled. Those words never failed to stir emotion within him.

“I love you, my sun.”

Thank you all so much for reading! I can't believe this story is over! I'm so attached to these characters and my delusional AU so if you want more, I am more than willing to continue, just give me the word xx

Tag List:

@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard @darktrashsouldbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee @kananenmus @summer-and-sunflowers @booksandbud4me @blackravena @pinkautismjournal @aleemendoza2425-blog @callsigncrushx @taylordaughter @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @tanyaherondale @uhnanix @r3v3rt @mizuki80 @iloved1lfs0 @odeioemail @brxkenartt @lechat-rouge @mrs-starkgaryen @cassianswh0reeee @barnes70stark

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic

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elenauaurs · 20 days ago

Text

TWISTED WONDERLAND OC

Except it's not a new one and I basically made a redesign for Blade and... Changed everything about him

(more under the cut)

"A cursed boy who always carries a strange sword, he seems to take life lightly."

INFO

Name: Caliburn

Grade: Sophomore

Age: 17

Height: 183 cm

Dominant hand: Right

Homeland: Briar Valley (?)

Club: Mountain lovers club

Best subject: Physical Education, Flying, Swimming

Least favorite subject: History of magic

Hobbies: Dancing

Pet peeves: Feeling trapped

Favorite food: Omelet

Least favorite food: Honey.

PERSONALITY

Talent: Swordmanship

A gentleman by nature, charming and extremely lively – although in a more passive way.

Caliburn carries a lot of energy with him, being quite restless and a born explorer. Sociable and popular, Caliburn seems to be open-minded and doesn't care much about “status” or rules, in addition to often acting as a “mediator” and standing by others.

Despite aiming for the good of the people around him, Caliburn is quick to define his limits and is very strict with them, as well as not letting go of the idea of using light manipulation or blackmail to get what he wants.

However, in general, he prefers to be more virtuous, firmly maintaining his ideals and not being afraid to defend them, appearing to be a very courageous individual.

It's also worth mentioning, even though it's a considerably rarer event, when triggered Caliburn can become extremely impulsive and even violent without wanting it, hence why he always tries to remain calm and in control of his own feelings.

In short, Caliburn is a warm person, who genuinely seeks to keep himself and the people around him positive. However, instead of being completely selfless, Caliburn also cares about his own happiness and limits, and can show irritable and impulsive tendencies if disrespected (normally these impulses are controlled).

FACTS

Caliburn is twisted from Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty

Most of his harmful impulses come from his curse, which connects him to the sword. Currently, the curse is under control because of treatments.

One of the Knights who protect Malleus in NRC, although he never shared a past with him. He was appointed to this role on the recommendation of his father, accepting this responsibility in search of a challenge.

Funnily enough, let's just say that his relationship with Malleus is somewhat turbulent.

Due to his curse, Caliburn needs to stay close to the sword. Thus being allowed to carry it around campus.

Caliburn is amnesiac, he remembers almost nothing about his life before the age of 14 and that includes his biological family. Even so, he doesn't seem to actively try to seek answers, preferring to move on.

Caliburn loves horses.

Caliburn is a very energetic person, constantly finding himself trying to expend energy in some way. In addition to his natural dislike of small or cramped spaces, Caliburn frequently leaves the campus without permission. (He's crowley biggest opp/j)

Dancing is one of his biggest joys!

He shares a room with Silver.

APPEARANCE

Caliburn cares about maintaining a good appearance, even being a bit vain.

His hair is mostly light brown, with some blonde highlights in certain parts, tied with a small red ribbon. His eyes are the same colour of an aurora.

His diasomnia uniform is a little different from the others, using the much larger coat as a cape, held to his clothes by silver thread. Around his neck he wears a purple ribbon and a golden necklace with a sword pendant. The shoulders of his shirt are puffed.

His hat is longer than usual, with a feather on one side. The lower part of his outfit is like the others, except for the presence of purple fabrics at his waist that resemble a tailcoat.

Bonus drawing made by my pookie @lumdays

@cyanide-latte @oya-oya-okay @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @boopshoops @br3adtoasty @casp1an-sea @heyhellohihowareyou @tixdixl @sillyslipperybananapeel @cheerleaderman @revolllutionary @nyx-of-night @lumdays @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @althea-and-alcestris @miyanaranagikenmal-intp @the-necromancer-wife

#he's not emo anymore #AND HE'S FINALLY HERE #he's just a silly guyyy #drawing the sword was the bane of my existence #HOPE YALL LIKE HIM #caliburn #twst oc #twst #twisted wonderland #diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland

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littlefreya · 10 months ago

Text

Neptune's Snare

Summary: She came to take revenge on the loathsome man who murdered her fiance, only to become his captive.

Read Chapter One

Pairing: AU!Pirate August Walker x Virgin OFC (for now 😏)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Sexual themes, dark themes mentioned, historical inaccuracies, kidnapping, captivity, graphic descriptions of sex, intimidation, slow burn, sexual tension, foul language.

A/N: I was unsure whether I should do part 2, but @deandoesthingstome (💖) motivated me to do it, so I truely hope you will like it. Many thanks to @agniavateira, for beta'ing. I am no longer using my old tag list, but I will tag those who specifically asked to be tagged for this story via my new Writing Update Blog @littlefreyaslibrary.

Thanks for reading, and please reblog with a comment 🖤

Chapter Two

Hours had passed since the Captain left—hours of futile attempts to escape the cruelty of the heavy iron binds. By now, the ship was deep into the ocean, miles away from any harbour or piece of land. The notion that she’d been abducted by the most ruthless murderer known to authorities had only just begun to sink.

As hot tears stung at her cheeks, Lizette couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity that led her to this fate.

‘Did you really think that a foolish girl could succeed where great men had failed?’

If Lizette had dared be honest, she would admit she never thought that plan through, not that it mattered much anymore. Soon enough, she would be yet another shiny trinket in Blackbeard’s gaudy collection.

Exhausted from a fierce yet futile battle, she leaned her head back against the plush, gold-paneled wall. Her weary gaze drifted through the open window, where the dark skies and black seas merged into a desolate void. No light shone through tonight; the darkness has devoured the stars and the moon. Lizette felt as if she was drowning in it too, sinking into a thick, tar-like liquid. With each breath, the collar around her throat grew heavier, the iron pressing into her skin and dragging her deeper and deeper until everything faded to black.

When she blinked again, it was still night but the cabin was lit in deep shades of honey and amber. Her heart skipped—once for the iron still hanging from her neck and twice as her bleary eyes caught sight of a shadow by the edge of the big table.

It appeared that her host had returned.

Boots flung across the food-abundant table, the Captain sat back in his royal velvet chair. One hand cradled a silver chalice whilst the other toyed with the edge of his thick whiskers. Silver trays of food, wine, and books were splayed before him, surrounded by dozens of fat, wax-dripping candles. The flickering flame guttered upon his eyes, painting them bright red while he observed the girl intently.

The curiosity was mutual, at least to some extent. As loathsome as the pirate was, Lizette could not help but scrutinise. Never in her life did she see a man so crude and yet so regal at the same time, He looked like a washed-out king, holding himself to a higher status amongst the scum aboard his ship. Surrounding himself with fine art, books and scientific obscurities, one would assume that this low-life man was educated, or at least aspired to be. His appearance, too, was of some sort of false elegance, with his moustache carefully groomed and his hair neatly combed save for an errant curl that fell upon his tanned forehead. However, the white cotton shirt that hung partially unbuttoned and loose from his shoulders exposed him for what he truly was as it revealed a myriad of tattoos, scars, and coarse hair.

‘Nothing but a filthy scoundrel.’

“At last, sleeping beauty is awake.”

Lizette kept her tongue knotted. The blazes on her stare answered on her behalf.

August scoffed at the silent response. ‘Precious little thing,’ Had only she known how much he enjoyed obstinate women. The only thing that was better than bending a spitfire to his will was getting a nun to kneel before his cock.

A slight twitch tugged at his cheek; his smirk widening at the fond memory.

‘Ah, Mary… you sure pray hard.’

Letting go of his whiskers and the chalice in his grasp, the Captain reached for a loaf of bread and split it in half. Steam rose and coiled to the air. The scrumptious scent of the freshly baked goods quickly filled the room and wafted over Lizette in a tempting invitation. Absentminded, she suckled her bottom lip, almost able to taste the sweetness on her tongue.

The pirate held out one piece of the loaf, an unmistakably provoking grin lighting his face. “Would you dine with me, pet?”

Weakness unfurled through her, reminding Lizette that it must have been hours, if not an entire day, since she last ate. Her empty belly flipped and gurgled so loudly that the pirate could hear it even from where he sat. Joy immediately cascaded about his glance; the impish grin between his cheeks further stretched.

To his delightful surprise, the girl was a lot more stubborn than she appeared. Instead of begging, she offered a spiteful glare and turned her face away.

“I’d rather starve!”

“Suit yourself.” The Captain shrugged and bit on one of the pieces. Hums and moans sputtered from his mouth, all exaggerated to taunt his brazen prisoner. As he finished chewing, he sucked on each of his inked fingers.

“Got a name, pet?”

“What matter is that to you?” The girl spat.

August shrugged again and returned to the chalice, dragging it on the table's surface in circular motions. A deep-red whirlpool briefly formed in his drink. He stared at it indifferently as he retorted, “Matters not, pet. But since you’ll be spending some time here in my quarters, I will require a moniker to approach you by. Question is, would you rather I choose a name for you myself? It won’t be a nice one. I can promise you that.”

Keeping her eyes averted, the girl folded her knees and hugged them, a deep sigh sinking from her. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the horrendous name he would choose.

“My name is Lizette.”

A touch of dark delight kissed his face—as if he had heard the enchanting hymn of a siren. Thoughtful, he stopped stirring his drink to the sound of her name, licked his lips, lifted the chalice and pressed it to his lips. “Ah, yes, you are definitely a Lizzy.”

“It’s Lizette!” she vehemently corrected.

“Oh!” The pirate abruptly twirled his free hand in the air, his brows lifting in a sardonically submissive gesture. “Forgiveness! Mercy, milady!” That had earned him the attention he was hoping to receive, as finally, Lizette snapped to glare at him.

The pure ire on her face did nothing but feed his amusement.

With a slanted grin and his thumb brushing his whiskers, he eyed her back. It’s been a while since a girl piqued his fascination, and this one was indeed something else. Fear seeped from her like dewy nectar from a ripe fruit. The sheen of sweat clinging to her skin and the throbbing at the crook of her neck gave away her true emotions. Yet, she exuded the unyielding fury of a harpy, the shackles around her throat barely deterring her brazen spirit..

‘Bold little thing. As ferocious as the ship’s cat…’ August thought and then frowned, ‘Where is that ungodly creature, anyway? Haven’t seen it in a while.’

“Lady Lizette…” the correct moniker rolled smoothly on his tongue in an inherently sinister sweetness. “Are you always such a rude guest to your hosts?”

“Guest?!” Lizette seized the chain that held her collar to the wall and lifted it in front of him—a deep frown decorating her weary face.

“I am not a guest! I am a prisoner!”

“Ah! Ah!” The pirate lifted his inked index finger in an unbearably pretentious manner. "It was you who came aboard my ship willingly, and let us not forget—uninvited.”

Lizette felt a chill in her chest, the same chill she always sensed when getting an answer wrong in her Latin lessons. He was right, and there was more to it. Pirate or not, doesn't every man deserve respect in his own home?

That notion made her cheeks hot.

“And if I may…“ the pirate drawled huskily and shifted into his seat. Lizette’s eyes followed his movement with the wariness of a skittish cat. Initially bemused, she realised his hand had snaked below the table and was now fumbling with his waistband.

A deep, pulsating pang bloomed in her core as the primordial anxiety every maiden is doomed to suffer from awoke within her. Alarmed, she shook her head and blurted hoarsely, “Wait!”

The pirate paid her no mind; either he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Then, his hand sprang back sharply with a pistol in his grip—the same one he had confiscated from her merely a few hours before.

“Did you not attempt to murder me in my own home?”

With those words, he slammed the pistol on the table, the dull thud booming through the cabin wall and causing Lizette to jump with a start.

Sinking back to his red regal chair, August crossed his fingers together and pressed his lips together with the contempt of an authority figure. The many golden trinkets around his fingers chimed as they collided.

“Answer me, Pet.”

Lizette regarded the pistol carefully. The golden floral embellishments upon the handle sparked with the candle's light. For a fleeting moment, she wondered how fast she needed to be to grab the pistol and shoot him dead in his rotten heart. Instead, she simply nodded, much as she could with the heavy collar around her neck. The spots where the sharp edges grazed her flesh burnt as sweat dripped over the bruised skin.

“Dumb as your plan was, I do appreciate the gesture, las. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to murder me, but it’s definitely the first time it was a beautiful young lady. Was all of this because of a boy?” He challenged, crooking one eyebrow.

This time, Lizette did not hesitate to answer.

“You robbed me of my future!” She corrected, and though she tried to maintain a fierce demeanour, the quiver in her voice gave away the rageful grief.

Sympathy, sadly, was not in August’s books, especially not whilst being distracted by the way her breasts pressed against the confines of the corset with every fervorous breath. A small, almost inaudible groan left his lips. He wondered if she, indeed, was a virgin. Did he deny her of her wedding night? Were these lovely tits ever in the hands of a man before?

Surely, he would find out. One way or another.

With a glare still fixed on her cleavage, he grazed his dimpled chin and simply shrugged.

“Pirate.”

Lizette hissed in response. Defiant, she snapped her arms across her chest to hide her cleavage.

‘Pig.’

“So I robbed you of your future,” August continued, mimicking quotation marks with his long, inked fingers. “And thus, you thought you should rob me of mine?”

“And what future would that be? Murdering and whoring?” she muttered hatefully.

The pirate swatted a hand over his chest, giving her a fake, exaggerated pout. “Now that pains me, love.”

Lizette could sense the blood seeth beneath her skin. She was used to men belittling her, but never did she experience such sheer mockery and humiliation. Trembling, she yelled back, “Good! I wish you nothing but pain!”

“And so she continues to insult me in my own home.” August clicked his tongue and shook his head with sardonic disappointment. “You highborn ladies sure lack respect. ‘Funny thing is, no matter how uppity women like you act, they all want the same thing…” his voice slurred and deepened, coaxing a baffled look from the maiden who abruptly forgot her wrath and ate the bait.

“And what would that be?”

The pirate stood and calmly paced to the fore of the table, where he leaned against the edge to peer down at his prisoner. Lizette remained guarded. he was fairly far away yet close enough for his shadow to fall upon her face and for his manhood to be situated at the level of her mouth. She struggled to avoid staring at it directly, which only made that wretched smug smile light his face again.

“What you ladies truly want is to be violated by none other but us ‘lowlife scoundrels’,” August nibbled his bottom lip, a dry chuckle escaping him as more fond memories came to mind. “Truly, the lots of you are bored by the castrated virility of the poised gentlemen. All you fantasise about is to be fucked dirty like a whore by a brute who has no sense of propriety.”

The pirate held his fist before him and mimicked a slow pumping motion. Although Lizette did not quite understand it, his words alone were enough to leave her gravely unsettled.

“You are an animal,” she snarled, not realising that her nails were biting into her forearms as she clutched herself so protectively.

But that merely fueled him.

“Tell me, Pet, did your boy satisfy those dark desires before he left a delicious bonny lass like yourself all alone? Did he split open and plundered your sweet little cunt, ass, and mouth, or did he leave you wet and miserable?”

Heat crawled at Lizette’s cheeks, yet she wasn’t sure whether it was from outrage or shame. Never in her life had she even considered the possibilities he had suggested, and now those horrifying images poisoned her mind.

Amused by her obvious mortification, the pirate tilted his head impishly. “No? Not even a finger or a tongue?”

“Stop it!” She implored, her voice cracking.

Ignoring her plea, he clicked his tongue. “Aw, sweet, tender flower. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He left you all alone and uncharted—that lonesome seal, begging to be invaded. Well, milady, you didn’t have to threaten me with a pistol in that case. All you had to do was ask.”

The pirate reached for his bulge and squeezed it, much to Lizette’s dismay.

”Trust me, one night with me, and you’d forget you ever loved him.”

That was enough to send Lizette over the edge. Not thinking twice, she jerked to her feet, the chains around her rattling along a furious onslaught that sputtered from her mouth.

“Love?! What do you know about love? You are a monster! All you do is kill and rape! You are incapable of love, and I’d be damned if anyone could ever love you!”

All the candles in the cabin flickered with a sudden gust of wind as the pirate suddenly lunged forward. He moved so fast, too fast. Lizette hadn’t even had the chance to sway from his touch, and already he was upon her. Crude fingers dug deep into the hollows of her cheek, forcing her to face his terrorising stare.

“You think this is a game? You think you know anything about me, little girl? About what I’ve done!?”

It was not a question to be answered, and even so, Lizette couldn’t bring herself to speak; she was suffocating, drowning on the surface. All around her, the air stood dense with the scent of iron, wine, and musky sweat, whilst the weight of his body crushed as it clung to her.

Closer, deeper. Layers upon layers of silk and wool separated their skin from one another, and still, she sensed the curve and firmness of his robust figure. The woven map of muscles that adorned his torso and the flex each muscle made as he tensed were evident

But none of this came close to what she saw as he forced her to look into his eyesa wrathful maelstrom pregnant with sinister urges beyond her darkest fears. It felt as if it was trying to draw her into a deep sense of anger, and grief submerged her.

Dread began to spill into her veins. He was going to kill her.

Lizette sucked in a deep shuddering breath. She was not going to join her Edward. Not tonight.

“Let go of me!” She squealed and began to punch his shoulders repeatedly. It felt like hitting iron, every blow more painful than the other, yet she refused to stop.

Indeed, she was just like that sea monster of a cat.

Stoic as an icy sea breeze, the pirate tilted his head at the girl. Despite her desperate efforts, her battle did nothing but vex him. Quirking one eyebrow, he released his grip from her jaw and swiftly reached for her hands. Lizette did her best to evade, squirming erratically, but to no avail. With a swift single hand, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head with a booming thud.

The girl gasped out with surrender, strands of her hair blowing back and forth upon her face as she heaved and panted exhaustingly. With his hand around her wrists and his body slightly bent to meet her height, he stood closer to her than any other man had before. So close that she could taste the wine and sea salt on his breath and study every freckle and every scar that marked his skin. He was nothing like her Edward, she thought; he was coarse and terrifying, and despite it all, she found him tragically beautiful.

She hated him for that.

“Listen to me now and listen carefully,” he finally spoke, tightening his grip around her wrists.

Liaette lifted her chin disdainfully; it took every ounce of self-restraint not to spit at his murderous, smug face.

“You’ve mistook my hospitality and playfulness for kindness, but let’s get this straight; I am not a good man. Upset me, and I will pluck that little flower between your thighs without blinking and then throw you to my crew once I have my fill.”

His words brought a stark shiver down her spine, yet it wasn’t just fear this time but something far more primordial. Between her trembling thighs, she sensed dewy wetness. A desperate gnawing need she had never known before. Trying to ease and brush it off, she squirmed and ground her thighs.

August’s brow rose with realisation, an immediate knowing grin spilling upon his malicious face. He leaned closer, his lips and whiskers brushing against her ear as he spoke.

“Seems like there won’t be much resistance from you, isn’t that so, pet? Soon, you’ll beg me to fuck y…”

His words were cut as warm saliva splattered on his cheek.

He shut his eyes momentarily, releasing a deep, exasperated grunt and then moved an inch away to fish a silk handkerchief from his pocket. Lizette watched proudly as he wiped his face.

The pirate, however, was not amused. Throwing away the handkerchief, he offered her a deadly frown. And then he leaned in, his mouth drawing voraciously closer to hers as if meaning to devour her.

“I warned you…”

“Captain.”

A low, sonorous call followed from the door, drawing both August and Lizette to turn their heads toward the uninvited guest.

Lizette blinked twice. The man in question was almost the spitting image of August, though his hair was wild with earthy curls and his beard fully grown, pointy, and tended with wax. Indifferent to the scene before him, he drew a pipe from his pockets and lit it with the flame of a candle that stood on a shelf near the door.

August regarded him with slight respect, yet not without annoyance:." What is it? I am busy.”

“I can see that,” the other pirate puffed out, grey lines of smoke following through his nostrils, “you are needed at the brig.”

“About?”

“Flint might finally speak.”

Eyes ablaze with sudden intrigue, August straightened to his fall height and drew a step back from the girl yet kept his grip around her wrists.

“I assume your methods worked, brother?” He crooked one eyebrow at the other pirate curiously.

‘Brother, of course,’ Lizette nearly chuckled. The men must have been twins, although she could tell the other sibling had far more grey in his untamed mane.

“My methods always work.” He answered with dry arrogance. “Finish her off later. This is more important.”

August lingered, his fingers brushing over his moustache as he contemplated what to do with his sweet little prisoner. The possibilities were endless, yet the more interesting ones would take some time, and with the trouble she gave him, he definitely wanted to give her what she deserved.

A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips. “A moment, Gus,” he requested, finally unhanding the girl.

The man, now known as Gus, bowed his head and threw Lizette a quick glance before disappearing into the darkness behind the door.

“It seems like I have some business to attend to, love. Shall we continue our little fun later?” August teased, slight annoyance still lingering at the tone of his voice.

Lizette did not answer. Rubbing her aching wrists, she watched him cautiously while he searched within his pockets. She wondered what new cruel method of torment he would inflict to her now.

To her surprise, it was a small silver key.

He lifted it to her face and offered her a razor-sharp stare." The water is close to freezing; sharks and eels are swimming within them, and every man upon my deck is probably plotting to use you as fuckhole since the moment you stepped onboard. I trust you won’t try anything stupid in my absence.”

“Like what?” Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she dared to speak back, “Seduce one of your crew members to fornicate with me so he would betray and murder you?”

Her weariness must have brought out the worst in her because she would have never thought of such an inappropriate, vile thing. Then she realised it was him who, in less than a few hours, corrupted her soul.

August paused and contemplated for a moment as if this was an actual possibility he did not consider. However, he brushed it off with a burst of taunting laughter while proceeding to unlock the collar around her neck. “I wouldn’t recommend it, love. They all come with so many exotic afflictions on their cock s that no doctor has even heard of.”

As the iron was removed from her little neck, the girl rested her hands around it, massaging the cuts and bruises that formed beneath. It ached even worse as the chill air of the night pecked at the raw flesh.

The pirate waltzed toward the table, reclaiming the pistol in an obviously provoking manner. He sheathed it back at the front of his waistband and paced toward the door.

“I won’t be long, love,” he promised, and with that, he left and locked the door behind him.

Lizette listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps, counting them one by one until she could no longer hear him. And then, she began to search around the cabin for anything, anything that can be used as a weapon.

‘I will not be a pirate’s whore.’ She vowed to herself while absentmindedly grazing a palm over her cheeks where August had touched her.

#henry cavill #August walker #august walker x reader #august walker x ofc #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #neptune's snare series #au!august walker #pirate august walker #pirate henry cavill #gus march phillips #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #gus march phillips x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

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winterrrnight · 8 months ago

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you are obsessed with your husband’s freckles <3 more on this! <3 a husband!rafe x wife!reader blurb <3 cw: none! just a lot of fluff, intentional use of lower case <3 dedicated to the one and only @chenslucy; happy birthday anna!! 💐 I love love love you and i know I am late, but this is my small token of gratitude of how supportive you've been since the beginning 🦕

part of this little universe <3

the moonlight cascades over the white sheets under which you and your husband are snuggled close to each other. it’s nearing 2 in the morning, and rafe is asleep with his bare back facing you, your arm slinging over his waist and your face nestled against his back as you let his warmth flood over you completely.

you watch his body rise and fall with each relaxing breath he takes in his deep slumber, your own mind at complete peace watching him take his proper rest.

the silver glow casting through the windows of your bedroom dances along rafe’s skin, the small freckles littered all over his shoulders lighting up under the moonlight. you gently run your fingertips over the freckles, letting out a soft sigh as you feel his skin under your own touch. his skin is a complete contrast to his brooding demeanor; it feels so soft and supple beneath your touch that you glide your fingertips effortlessly over his shoulders.

his freckles though, as always, stand out the most to you as you shower them with your gentle touch. you reach out with the fingertip of your index finger and gently tap over each freckle as you quietly count them under your breath, something you do often when you find yourself awake late at night. it helps you fall into a slumber yourself, the activity feeling equivalent to counting sheep. sometimes, you find this small activity distracting you from your stresses and anxieties, your mind busying itself with wanting to know the exact number of freckles littered over his shoulders which over the course of time helps you feel more relaxed over the little things that are bothering you.

your finger trails over to his other shoulder to resume the count, the numbers progressing under your breath as you tap every freckle you can spot under the pale light of the moon.

you reach what you assume is the last freckle and stop the count, letting out a deep exhale as you finish the count. each time you do this certain activity, you turn up with a different number, although the result is always quite close to all the other results you get. some freckles go unnoticed by you, and sometimes you spot new ones that you are sure weren’t there before. but that’s the beauty of it; it’s not a predictable activity, it gives you a new conclusion every single time, and that makes you appreciate the freckles on his body even more.

you lean closer and press your lips gently to the freckles, peppering the softest kisses over the smooth skin. your heart is almost bursting with your deep love for him as you press kisses over kisses, starting to feel his body gently shift in bed.

he slowly starts to turn on his back and you pull back from his shoulder, watching his eyes slowly open and sleepily meet yours.

“hey,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the raspy tinge it always does after he wakes up.

“hey,” you murmur back, resting your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

“can’t sleep?” his soft voice reaches your ears as you shake your head against his chest, feeling him look down at you through his barely open eyes.

you look up at his face, your eyes trailing down his shoulders as you gaze upon the freckles again. your hand reaches up to run your fingers over them just like you were doing just a few moments ago. rafe lets out a deep exhale at your actions, feeling your fingertips circling over his shoulder in the most soothing fashion, his eyelids threatening to droop again.

“it’s okay, sleep,” you whisper as you watch how hard it is getting for him to keep his eyes open. rafe makes a feeble attempt to say something, but his tiredness wins over and he drifts off again, the feeling of your touch lulling him into sleep faster than ever.

you smile softly as you hear his breathing getting even, his heartbeat thumping rhythmically against your ear. you start to gently count the freckles again, tapping your fingertip over each spot just like how you always do. the counting falls perfectly in rhythm with his soothing heartbeat, and before you know it, you feel your own eyelids getting heavier, your entire body relaxing under the feeling of his comforting embrace.

— —

tagging everyone who wanted this specific fic 🥰: @maddsxfall , @zyafics , @destrolid , @drewsephrry , @ihe4rttwd <3 thank you so much for your support! 🌟

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r0tting-rat · 18 days ago

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"Little pest."

Hi Magpie!!! Gift :> Just a lil thing for a very talented someone with an incredible au. Yeah I'm a huge simp for their alien boys what about it /silly

Pairing: Alien King!Eclipse (by @sleepymagpie-draws) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None, maybe just a bit ooc (sorry mags) Words: 4000+ Summary: You're bored and can't sleep. Thank god you have someone to annoy to pass the time <3 Heavily inspired by this ask/art!!! Literally died when I saw it he's so beautiful. Additional tags: TouchSTARVED reader. Starved as hell. Also fluff fluff fluff so much fluff. Magpie I love him can you tell. (Reminder everyone that the reader has techincally been kidnapped, but they're pretty chill about it dw)

Who said being kidnapped by aliens is a terrifying and horrible experience? It has already been months since Sun literally grabbed you and brought you with him, and you have yet to be put on a vivisectionist's table. In fact, all you have known since then are silky sheets, soft pillows, ornate plates of fresh fruits you have never seen before, and heavy pieces of jewelry that hang down your neck and rest fresh against your sternum. You live better than you used to back on Earth, spoiled rotten by three royals every single day of your dull life, sleeping in a bed three times the size of a human one, and with countless workers ready to be summoned at your every call. Although, you have to admit that you much prefer the attention of your “captors” compared to the one of their servants, feeling like their soft touches work like a relaxing balm on your mood.

The one of the three brothers you see less is Eclipse, and even if you can bet your money on the fact that he must be constantly busy due to his duties as a king, you can’t help but wish you could spend more time with him, craving the way he gently scratches the top of your head with his claws whenever he manages to stop by and pay you a visit.

Rolling around in the soft sheets of the bed you are resting on, looking up at the dull ceiling, you feel like a pampered and neglected pet at the same time, left to the care of strangers who refuse to speak more than quick sentences to you, covered by precious gifts from head to toe and fed with silver spoons while also being locked alone in your quarters for hours without end.

You complain, of course. To Sun, Moon, and anyone who’s willing to swing by and listen, really. You grumble and whine; you roll on your bed and do your best attempt at puppy eyes, but all the brothers do is laugh and caress your cheeks. There are rules—they say—rules that can’t be broken, and each time they remind you, you roll your eyes. They promised you books and games to pass the time, but as you wait for the shipment from Earth to arrive, you are left with nothing. You don’t understand the language of the heavy volumes collecting dust in the bookshelves of your room, and something tells you you wouldn’t enjoy reading them even if you did.

The part of the brothers’ visits you hate the most is when you see them stand up and prepare to leave, because you know that the very moment the door closes behind them, it locks, leaving you stuck in your room for hours. There’s no real keyhole in your door, so you can only guess how it works, but from what you have gathered so far, it seems like it’s semi-automatic but opens only when you’re coming in from the outside. Listening to Sun and Moon made you realize another thing as well: their rooms seem to be close to yours—maybe even adjacent—and the thought infuriates you. So close, and yet so far! Why do they so rarely visit you if they are so close by? Do they have other places to rest? Do they sleep at all? Are the bedrooms just for show? Drowning in questions, you decide that it’s time to break some rules, and when Eclipse finally stops by to visit you after dinner, you come up with a plan.

The alien is so tall the tip of his crown brushes over the canopy of your bed as he leans over your draped form on the bed. He rests one of his hands on top of your head, brushing your hair back, and you look up at him with a pout.

“Finally decided to pay attention to me?” you say, swatting his hand away and sitting up. You know you’re being a brat, but if they so desire to treat you as a glorified pet, then you might as well show them the reality of owning one. From under his crown, which you consider more like a helmet or mask, you hear the disappointed clicking of his mandibles that translates through your magnetic ring with a soft cooing sound.

“Oh, my pet, are you feeling neglected?” he asks, coming back to gently run his claws through your hair. He loves to do it, and you love allowing him.

“I’m bored, Eclipse.” You have no qualms about calling him by his real name, ignoring any honorific everyone around keeps suggesting to you. “I’m bored, and it’s been almost a week since your last visit.”

You shift back on the bed a little so it doesn’t seem done on purpose, and you watch as the terrifyingly huge alien climbs on the disarranged covers to follow you. He never fully enters your personal space, always keeping enough room between the two of you to keep things “formal,” in a way, but you also noticed how he likes to have you at arm’s length. Every time you are in the same room as Eclipse, one of his four arms is always touching you, resting on your head or shoulder, tilting your chin up, sometimes even running his claws from the base of your spine to the nape of your neck just to see you shiver and glare at him.

“My apologies,” he says, and his words sound sincere, “I promise the shipment will arrive shortly; you’ll have your books in no time.”

“It’s not the books that I want, though,” you reply, leaning closer, and that causes Eclipse to slightly move back, like he’s scared you might end up too close to his face. “You kidnapped me, dragged me here, then proceeded to simply ignore me.”

You weren’t being ignored, of course. You were just acting dramatic so as to get what you wanted.

“I’m sure I do not need to remind you who of the three of us is the one at fault for your presence here. As I told you already, I’m afraid I cannot bring you with me while I work, pet,” Eclipse sighs, “After we expanded on your little planet, both Sun and Moon’s responsibilities and tasks have doubled as well. It has to be said, your fellow humans are quite rowdy.”

You turn your head away, pretending to look saddened by the news—nothing you hadn’t expected, of course, but still.

“Also, the thought of you roaming these halls alone makes us all uneasy,” he adds, “You could get lost, or someone could see you and be scared to the point of calling the guards on you. That’s why we must lock your door, my pet, to keep you safe.”

“Not because you think I might run away?” you question, eyebrows rising up with skepticism, and Eclipse purrs with amusement.

“Run off? And where to, silly?” he laughs, “You wouldn't even know how to leave this place, let alone return to your home planet.”

He’s right; running from them would have been stupid. Plus, you don’t really want to escape—not when you have two princes and a king spoiling you like that—you just need to leave that damned room for at least five minutes so as to not go mad! Is it too much to ask not to be subjected to psychological torture?

“Are you returning tomorrow morning?” you ask, hopeful, and Eclipse shakes his head. You groan, now seriously disappointed, and try not to lean too much into the touch of his hand caressing your cheek. The contact burns, like living embers, and you have to stifle a second groan. It’s been so long since you had some form of physical contact with a human, and something tells you it’s starting to take a toll on you, making you more compliant and demanding of attention. It could be due to the unfamiliar setting, which you simply can’t grow accustomed to despite how much you walk the perimeter of your large room, or the complete absence of familiar faces, but the cause of it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you need to be hugged, to be cuddled, to be held, and to be caressed. You’re touch starved, so hungry for it you could just throw yourself at Eclipse and cling on his neck until he relents and decides to sleep there with you or bring you to his room—either way, you’d get a full night of cuddles; too bad common decency stops you from hugging a king like a koala.

“I have an important meeting in the morning, so I’m afraid not. I’m sure Sun and Moon might be able to clear their schedules in the afternoon, though, so don’t fret.”

His words are apologetic, but you feel as if they were said with the sole purpose of bringing you harm because they do nothing but hurt you.

Eclipse leaves after a while of chatting, bringing all the warmth of the room with him, and you watch him from your spot on the edge of the bed as he walks towards the door. You’re on your back, head hanging down the bed, staring blankly at the heels of the king and mentally preparing your next move. You act fast. The door opens, Eclipse slips away, and right before it closes, you throw a pillow in the gap of the threshold. The noise of the pillow falling is soft and muffled, and Eclipse doesn’t seem to notice that the door hasn’t closed completely behind him; instead, he simply walks away in the white corridor outside your room, and you stare at your successful attempt with surprise. You actually did it! The door is still open, blocked by the red pillow, and you finally have access to the rest of the rooms.

Carefully standing up from your bed, like afraid someone from outside could hear you, you make your way towards the exit and peek out, hoping not to be met with Eclipse’s disappointed masked face. When your eyes travel the length of the long corridor extending before you like a white snake, you find no sign of any alien, and a smile splits on your lips from ear to ear.

The idea of immediately beginning to explore is alluring, but you know better than to leave when it’s still so early. You must wait some time until you’re sure Eclipse must have already retreated to his room for the night, and then enact the second phase of your plan.

Once you’re finally sure enough time has passed since the king has wished you goodnight, you finally push fully open the door of your room, looking around once more to make sure the coast is clear. After that, you put the pillow back to stop the door just in case it couldn’t be opened from outside like you thought, and walk in the direction you’re almost sure Eclipse has taken. During your short trip, you notice the complete lack of furniture or wall decorations in the halls, mumbling to yourself about “rich people’s lack of taste,” occasionally finding a door and trying to open it with no success, and you’re just about to give up when you finally place your open palm against one tall frame and see it move at your gentle touch.

You stare in disbelief at the room opening before you, large and barren at the same time, trying to understand who the place belongs to while lingering on the door sill. In the darkness you see thousands of books neatly arranged on tall bookshelves, with their colorful and ornate hard covers staring at you as if they’re aware you’re a stranger, and as you enter you notice many have a broken spine. Those books, you realize, have been well loved by someone, or maybe simply re-read dozens of times out of need. It doesn’t matter to you, because what you’re most interested in is the second door in a corner of the room, likely leading to the actual bedchambers. It seems like the initial area has been arranged to be used as an office, separated from the personal spaces, but if that isn’t the truth, then you might have simply stepped into a random library and made a fool of yourself in front of the books. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, and the monkey part of your brain keeps screaming that there’s someone watching you, but the deeper you go in the quarters, the more you keep telling yourself that it’s just your imagination. Your bare feet leave a slight trail on the carpet in the middle of the room as you walk towards the second door.

As expected, the second room is more similar to a bedroom, although it doesn’t seem to gain any form of personality compared to the office you just left, almost as if the owner of the room doesn’t spend too much time in it. It wouldn’t fit Sun to sleep into such a sterile and dark ambience, and you feel like Moon would also take some more care into creating a welcoming area for himself, so that leaves out only one of the three brothers.

The size of the bed confirms your theory: you have ended up exactly in Eclipse’s room, and you’re face to face with his sleeping form. Or, at least you guess it must be him, considering how dark it is in that corner. The only source of light in the room is a large window kept almost entirely shut, not allowing a ray of starlight to enter, so you really can’t be sure of anything.

The canopy bed in front of you is enormous, of a deep burgundy color, and see-through curtains drape over it to hide the figure in the middle. As you study the fabrics with the tips of your fingers, testing the softness, you find yourself enamored by it, beginning to press your open palms in the covers and then your face. You breathe in the scent, delicate while also heavy in your nostrils, and recognize the amazing aroma Eclipse brings with him everywhere he goes. You have no idea if it’s his favorite perfume or simply his natural scent; all you know is that it reminds you of the time you fell asleep on the king’s cape while he stopped for a visit, and the morning after, you found it still draped over you like a heavy cloak.

With your face in the covers, you simply close your eyes and let the memory play in your mind, affection blooming in your chest and throat like a warm flower, not noticing the dark frame towering over you from behind. Eclipse, from the height of his 8 ft, looks down at you like you’re nothing but a silly rabbit caught in a trap, about to be served for dinner to a horde of hungry guests.

“What exactly are you doing here, little pest?” he asks, and his deep growl makes you jump in the spot. When you turn around, your heart is racing, your eyes are wide open, and you feel more like prey than ever before in your life. As soon as you realize that Eclipse isn’t wearing his crown, you suddenly feel your blood pumping in your throat, and your cheeks grow warm at the sight of the red marks around his eyes and the dark color of his face sweetly mixing together, hypnotizing you for a second. All you can think of in that little head of yours is that the male should take off the helm more often so as to let his beautiful eyes see the light of day.

It isn’t the first time you saw him without the headpiece; sometimes he takes it off after he comes back from a long meeting with his advisors, and the sight always strikes you like lightning.

Eclipse—it has to be said—is beautiful. Not only for the eyes, which are of a wonderful milky color that makes you feel as if they’re cursing you with some kind of magic, but also for his soft features, unfortunately hidden for most of the time. Did his citizens even know their king looked like that? Heavens, you suddenly remember why you’re so happy that you’ve been kidnapped.

Eclipse is wearing something similar to a robe that wraps around his torso while leaving his chest open, with long sleeves covering his four large arms, and everything is kept into place by a tie in the front. He must have been on his way to go to bed before you interrupted him.

“It is only polite to answer when a royal addresses you,” the alien angruily reminds you, and you suddenly realize you haven’t said a thing since he entered.

“I just… I wanted, I was…” None of your sentences are making sense, so you swallow the lump in your throat and force your mind to clear itself of all the other distracting thoughts. “I just wanted to spend time with you, Eclipse.”

That sentence paired with some well-played puppy eyes is enough to make the alien sigh and relent, annoyed, probably too tired to argue with you after a long day of work.

“I don’t know how you left your room, but that’s unimportant now. You should return, it’s late,” he says, and you pout.

“Why can’t I sleep here?” you ask, and Eclipse looks down at you like you have grown a second head.

“I have a meeting tomorrow morning. Have you forgotten?” he sounds incredulous, “I’ll wake up early.”

You shrug after fake-pondering for a second. You had already made your decision.

“I don’t mind,” you reply with a small smile, “I sleep for the most part of the day anyway, so I’m well rested.”

Eclipse’s eyes turn into slits as he stares down at you, one pair of arms crossed over his chest and the other pair of fists on his hips. You can’t help but admire the dip of his collarbones as the fabric of his robe reveals more of him.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” he sighs, and your smile widens as you see his resolve start to break. You shake your head, and Eclipse finally relents. “Fine, get on the bed already.”

With a smug expression, you jump on the soft covers, happy with your little win, and you watch from behind the see-through curtain the king as he walks back in his personal library and returns, a moment later, with a book in his hand. You turn around, curious, and realize that the frame you thought belonged to Eclipse was actually just a bunch of pillows stuffed under the covers. Had he put them there because he had heard you come in? That would explain why he was ready to jump on you the very moment you turned your back.

The king motions you to get under the covers, then parts the curtains to slip in himself. Your eyes don’t miss the way his tense frame relaxes once his body finally rests on the mattress, as if the dark red sheets weren’t made of fabric but rippling water of a warm spring. One of his hands wraps around you, caressing your back, and you take it as a sign you can scoot closer and lay your cheek on his chest. The contact is pleasant, sending a nice buzzing of emotions down your spine, and you find yourself leaning onto him more and more every second, warm face resting on a cold and hard exoskeleton with a sigh. His main pair of arms opens the book on a page in the middle, and, with his back against the headboard, he begins reading a book with pages covered in mysterious letters and signs.

You can’t help your curiosity, and the words slip out of your mouth even before you can stop them. You don’t want to bother him, but you crave to hear him talk to you some more.

“What are you reading?” you ask, and Eclipse begins to smile.

“Fiction. After so many hours spent on documents, I need something to distract my mind.”

“I didn’t take you for the type,” you murmur, and your sentence makes him laugh.

“You just don’t know me enough, pet,” he almost purrs, and once again your face heats up. How can he say that as if it was nothing? You do want to know him more—in fact, you want to know everything about Eclipse. You want to know his favorite books, his favorite scents, what he does in the morning after waking up, and what he likes to eat. You want to ask about his childhood, you want to spend time with him and his brothers, you want to learn more about their culture and more about them as well. You want to be able to spend every second with the three of them, but you can’t, so you cherish the moment you have with Eclipse before you eventually fall asleep.

“That’s something we can always change,” you say, nuzzling closer to him and closing your eyes for a moment. You’re so close you can hear the pumping of his heart under his exoskeleton, and the sound of it is almost lulling you to sleep. “What’s the story about?”

“Ah, just a tale about two lovers,” he explains, “It’s tragic, but I can’t fall asleep without reading at least a chapter.”

“I hope it’s not too tragic,” you murmur, “It’d be sad if one died.”

“I must agree with you here,” Eclipse hugs you even closer. “They’re made for each other. If one were to pass away, I have no idea what the other would do.”

You feel cradled by the gentleness in his words, the emotion that you so rarely hear in them, like a hand caressing your cheek and tilting your face up. When you do open your eyes, you find Eclipse fondly looking down at you with a small smile.

“Keep going,” you mutter, fighting with your own heavy eyelids as you speak, “I wanna know about them…”

“Sleep, my dear pet,” Eclipse whispers instead, bending down to kiss the top of your head, “I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”

You don’t want tomorrow to come, you know you wouldn’t stand to see him wearing his crown and leave for the day. The thought is so painful you curl up into a ball and groan, and you stop only when a pair of strong arms hold you close to a hard chest, and you realize that Eclipse has fully slipped under the cover and is now gently hugging you, one hand on the nape of your neck, another burying its fingers in your hair, and the last two resting on your hips. Another kiss is placed on your forehead, and you swear you might just start boiling on the spot.

“What about your book?” you ask with a tired and groggy voice, wrapping yourself around Eclipse some more, like you’re afraid someone might come in and untangle you from him.

“It’ll wait,” the king answers.

“But you said you can’t sleep without reading…” Your eyes are closed again, and this time you feel like they might not open until morning.

“This can work as well.”

You finally fall asleep cradled and hugged by Eclipse’s arms, uncaring of his hard shell being so different from any kind of fur or skin humans might find more comfortable, and when you do manage to sleep into your own world, you do it with a smile on your lips. You’re no longer afraid of turning around right after waking up and finding the bed empty and cold, not anymore, not when Eclipse is making up for all the lack of affection you had to endure.

Next time, you’ll try to see if you can rope Sun and Moon into it too. It’d be nice to have a sleepover all together.

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muzansfangs · 6 months ago

Note

I just wanna be silly since Aug 27th is my birthday, but I wonder how jjk characters would act on your birthday, I love shower thoughts🙃

You spend your birthday with them.

Starring: Suguru Geto x f!reader; Satoru Gojo x f!reader; Sukuna Ryomen x f!reader; Choso Kamo x f!reader; mention to Yuji, Nobara, Nanami, Maki;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: fluff, consume of alcohol, jealousy, Sukuna is possessive and there are some red flags warnings in his part, robbery, slightly suggestive, party, wedding, parenting in Suguru’s part;

Plot: it’s your birthday and you are spending it with your beloved boyfriend. What is going to happen? Has he planned something to make your special day particularly memorable? Let’s find out!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Suguru Geto.

• What a gentleman. He woke you up that morning by leaving a trail of gentle, featherlike kisses down your shoulderblades. As you stirred in your sleep and peered up at him through your heavy eyelids, he smiled softly and kissed the tip of your nose affectionately “Happy birthday, love” he murmured, careful not to startle you as you gradually began to come back to your senses. The peace and quiet lasted only for a couple of seconds, before Nanako and Mimiko dashed into your bedroom and charged at you to squeeze the air out of your lungs with their tight embraces.

• Untangling the limbs of your ‘family’ you finally made it to the kitchen, where you already found an aboundant breakfast ready for you to enjoy. Suguru had made you the queen of his cult and, actually, the empress of his heart and house. Siding with him until the very end, you had helped him with the girls and he had made it his life goal to make you feel loved. He peppered your face with kisses as you ate your pancakes, before a war of cereals and whipped cream began, laughters and giggles filling the air of the house.

• Most of the day was spent shopping with the girls and strolling around the city. However, Suguru had already planned something special for you in the evening. When you made it back home, the girls obediently accepted to spend the evening with a babysitter and Suguru took your hand to lead you back to your shared bedroom. On the top of the bed there was a large black box, a silver ribbon exalting the elegance of the packet as he incited you to open it and wear what was inside.

• A Valentino dress was soon embracing your body as Suguru showered you in compliments and called a taxi for you two to have a nice dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in Tokyo. Fine wine, sweet nothings whispered to your ear as delicacies were served at your table one after the other.

• This man loved gifting you diamonds every now and then. How did you even stare at him in awe as he latched a beautiful necklace of rubies around your neck?

• You spent the night in a five stars hotel, sipping champagne and finally letting him worship your body like you deserved.

Satoru Gojo.

• He gave a terrible migraine to every mutual friend of yours. In particular, he drove Kento insane. It was your damn birthday, how could you expect your boisterous and popular boyfriend to keep it low? He threw a party for you at his penthouse, going as far as inviting the higher-ups as well. Multicolored lights and baloons were in every angle of his house, music so loud speaking with the hosts was nearly impossible. However, you had to admit he had taste in picking the right decorations to meet your expectations.

• Expensive bottles of champagne everywhere and a pile of presents were waiting for you in the middle of the living room. Next to it, a very tired Nanami, choleric at your boyfriend, blew into a silver trumpet with a conical blue paper hat on the top of his hair. His eyes were sincerely wishing you a happy birthday, but you knew he was silently warning you that your dear boyfriend Satoru was going to die by his hand pretty soon. After the party, most likely. You could not blame him.

• Once the party ended, Satoru literally jumped on you. The make-out session was pretty heated, as you two rolled over his king sized bed, kind of tipsy but in your right minds. You did not expect him to give you an extra present. Apparently, the necklace with a sapphire pendant was not enough. The moment he knelt before you with a velvet box in his hand, you gawked. Tears of joy rolled down your cheeks as he asked you to become his wife. How could you decline?

• The moron posted a picture of your hand and the sparkling jem adorning your ring finger a couple of minutes later and you spent the night answering to best wishes and Kento’s comment.

• “Widowed a day after the wedding. Sorry, ‘@ y/n’”.

• You wondered why Yuji had liked that comment, but then you assumed Sukuna had probably just taken over his body to be a pain in the ass.

• Overall, you cuddled a lot, making plans for the future. The first thought coming up to his mind was asking you to move over, because he would have been able to protect you non-stop, if you lived together. And this was the beginning of a fairytale.

Ryomen Sukuna.

• It was your what? A birthday? Mortals and their weird festivities. How could someone be happy to age? A step closer to death and you still seemed happier than ever. The first thing he did was attempting to be nice in his brutal way: he offered you sex. When you shut the door at his face he connected the dots. Maybe, he needed to understand what women liked to do on such special occasions.

• He saw a man buying flowers for his girlfriend and thought you might have appreciated the gesture. A faminine thing for you to enjoy could not a bad idea, right? A few minutes later he was banging at your door demanding you to let him in. He dropped dozens of roses onto your table, leaving you speechless but genuinely suprised.

• “Who told you to buy me flowers? That’s way too romantic coming from you” you teased him, planting a kiss onto his cheek.

• “I saw a fool buying it. I robbed the florist”.

• You facepalmed and offered him to stay with you for the day, because you had invited some friends over to eat lunch together. He did not mind, or this is what he said. He really tried to behave, but your friend was glued to your hip and, according to him, his eyes were transfixed on your ass. He almost sent that poor guy to hospital, but you were lucky he had leave for a last minute mishap.

• Once everyone was gone, you two bickered. However, it ended up in the only way he had wanted to begin the day with. Clothes gone, lips latched onto your neck and a night of passion no man could have ever been able to offer you.

• Unfortunately, you were in love with that savage.

Choso Kamo.

• Man on a mission. Ever since Yuji explained the importance of birthdays and some basics about ‘how to make a girl happy’, he had spent weeks trying to organize a perfect date night for you two. A date night, yes, because he thought throwing a small party at lunch with your mutual friends would have made you happy and it did. But he wanted some attentions too, in private.

• His birthday present for you was a polaroid. Obviously, he could not stop himself from blushing, the tip of his ears turning reddish, as he handed you the small box with a huge purple ribbon to adorn the lid. He told you he had heard you tell Nobara and Maki you wanted to buy a polaroid to decorate your bedroom with pictures of your friends and he admitted he wanted the first photograph you would have taken to be with him.

• He took you to the ferris-wheel in the evening and stared at you enamoured of your smile the whole time. He did not give a damn about the landscape, when he had his whole world in front of him. He was so lovesick, but it did not mind. Once you got off, he bought you anything you wanted. Candy-floss? Peppermint sticks? Pizza? Name something and he went to fetch it for you in a nick of time.

• A powerful boyfriend meant tons of plushies won at the different stalls. When he spotted a huge lilac teddy bear holding a heart in his paws, Choso went straight for it and beated the records indicated on the giant sign at the entrace of the small shop just to see your eyes widen and twinkle in adoration. He might have grinned mockingly at a kid on your way out, triumphantly carrying the plushie for you.

• When you began to get tired, he took you home. Resting your head on the top of his shoudler during the bus ride, you dozed off and he did not have the heart to wake you up, when you looked so sweet and lovely. He might have glared at any person staring at you, whilst you were asleep, but it was his protective instinct kicking in. He behaved.

• Back into your flat, he snuggled into a cocoon of blankets with you into your bed and you smiled, upon hearing him uttering sweet nothings in your ear “I love you, I love you, I love you” he murmured continuously. Naturally, he let you be the little spoon. He would have done anything for his ‘princess’. He wondered if his brother would have been proud of him, because Choso was surely giving it his best shot!

• Sleepy make-out sessions were definitely the best part of the day, before you finally succumbed to sleep.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! This was supposed to be published sooner, but happy belated birthday honey! I hope you enjoyed this small scrap��❤️

Love you,

Luce

#geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #ryomen x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna smut #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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bexalert · 1 year ago

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Stardust crusaders having a crush on you

(Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Mohammed Avdol)

Stardust Crusader stuff because I just finished part V and I miss them 😔

Also, I started this a WHILE ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts, so here you go.

I’ll also probably be making something for part V soon because I love them all. My accounts about to just become Jojo I’m so sorry 😭

Jotaro Kujo:

• He’s such a sweetie (he will literally ignore you)

• He doesn’t know how to just care about people??? So he won’t say anything

• But he will be very protective of you

• Atleast he’s not insulting you 😭

• He’ll just be watching you at all times, making sure you’re ok.

• He gets flustered, and then gets more flustered since he’s flustered

• Not that most people would notice

• He just starts sweating a bit and looks away.

• but you know who’s NOT shy???

• Star Platinum will not hesitate to play with your hair, stand by you, stare at you

• Obviously Jotaro will try to control him, but sometimes it just subconsciously happens

• He gets frustrated because people (POLNAREFF COUGH COUGH) will tease him

• But he bluffs well enough so you can’t tell

• When he does ask you on a date (if he does)

• It’s short, and almost a demand 😭

• “Go out with me.”

• He moves his hat so that you can’t see his face

• But he’s lowkey shaking

• Bro could defeat dio, multiple other stand users, and stop time without breaking a sweat, but when it comes to you?

• He’s just very out of his element, give my boy a chance

Noriaki Kakyoin:

• He’s just naturally so charming

• Especially if you’re around Jotaro and you’re a woman 😭

• He’ll comfort you if Jotaro makes any rude remarks

• “Pay him no mind.”

• He acts like you don’t affect him as much as you do

• But not to the point of being rude to you.

• He tries to impress you, but might not even realize he’s doing it

• Like he’ll do something cool and then immediately look to you to see if you saw him

• Might act just a smidge more charming

• Oh you need to walk through this door? He’ll open it for you. You’re having a seat? Here, let him pull your chair out for you. There’s a puddle? Oh, don’t get your shoes wet! He can carry you across- for your safety of course!

• He’s very polite, and respects you so much

• Always want to hear your input

• What do YOU think is the best route? Which hotel do YOU like?

• “What do you think, Y/N?”

• Just cares about you very much.

• He’ll be confident but humble when he asks you out

• “Y/N, I like you. Would you go on a date with me?”

• He’s shaking in his boots

• He just always has this content smile when he’s with you.

Jean Pierre Polnareff:

• Oh brother we got ourselves a yapper 😭

• Everyone knows he likes you

• It is absolutely not a secret

• You just assume he’s joking, or think he doesn’t really mean it

• But he is DEAD serious

• Shameless simp- he doesn’t care who makes fun of him

• “Ah, Y/N, do you need help with that? I’ll help!”

• You didn’t need help, he just can’t stand to see you working

• “Mon amour, someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to do work like this. Hohoho! leave it to me!”

• He’s incredibly corny and will say the cringiest things at any time.

• “Ah! You’re eyes are as beautiful and shiny are Silver Chariots armor!”

• and you’re just like thanks???? I guess???

• He will ask you out constantly. Just got done fighting? He’ll ask you out to cuddle in his sleeping mat (and also proclaim his undying love) you’re hungry? Please! Let him take you out to eat (and proclaim his undying love) you said you’re tired? He’ll ask you if he can carry you (and of course proclaim his undying love)

• When you finally take it seriously enough to give him a chance, he is over the moon

• He’s telling everyone

• “they said yes! We’re dating!”

• He’s so head over heels and just adores you

Mohammad Avdol:

• Dude he is SWEATING

• Like you won’t notice because he’s very calm and collected, but he’s freaking out

• It also doesn’t help that Magicians Red always comes out when you’re around, and he just keeps getting hotter.

• Like if you’re having a long conversation with Avdol, it will just progressively get more hot

• He tries desperately to keep Magicians Red under wraps, and for the most part he does

• But he gets so embarrassed when he cant

• He’s super respectful, like feels bad for even liking you

• He thinks he’s being gross for thinking of you like that especially if he doesn’t think you like him 😭

• He feels embarrassed outright asking to just have a conversation with you, so he always tries to cover it up with something else

• “Y/N, do you mind helping me read this?”

• HE COULD READ IT!!! He just wanted an excuse to talk to you ☹️

• Since he’s also the groups stand teacher, he’ll use his knowledge to his advantage

• Like you’ll made some off comment about “hmm wonder why that happened.” And he’s going into nerd mode

• 🤓☝️ “Actually when a stand user…”

• Like it was not necessary for him to go off like that, but the way you listen so intently makes his heart flutter.

• if you take his advice into account or say something reminded you of him, he is DEAD

• You actually thought about him, even just for one second, and that is wild to him

• He is also a simp, but no one would notice. Pouring your tea for you, helping set up your mat, bandaging your wounds, etc.

• You just think he’s being a good friend

• When he finally asks you out, he’s so flustered, but tries to keep calm.

• “Y/N, when this is all over I would like to take you on a date. Is that ok?”

• He’s just the sweetest nicest big ol’ teddy bear.

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fictioninmyblood · 4 months ago

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Back to Bed

Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.

After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.

WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, pre-smut, angst

A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.

A/N: There will be at least a part 2. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.

A/N: My work is NOT to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

Y/N had been napping peacefully in the spare bedroom when she heard her kids start screaming excitedly, waking her all the way out her sleep in panic. Once she identified their squeals as gleeful she relaxed, but decided it would be in her best interest to check and see what all the commotion was about. Imagine her surprise when she entered their living room to see her parents sitting on the couch with her kids talking over one another and Terry coming downstairs with their weekend-trips-backpacks. The moment she locked eyes with her husband, Y/N gulped, somehow understanding exactly what was going on behind those piercing eyes. Her father had been too wrapped up in the kids, but her mother saw her daughter the instant she entered the room, her motherly instincts in overdrive.

As soon as Terry let them in she could see that he was even more exhausted than usual, his reliably calm demeanor obviously frazzled. Whenever they usually came to pick up the kids at his request, everything was already packed and ready, the kids fed the most recent meal or snack, and Terry had them waiting by the door. Y/N was usually who they waited on. It was completely out of character to have to wait for him to finish getting them ready or be told they haven't eaten at least a snack so far into the afternoon. Dinner was around the corner and school had been out for at least 2 hours. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. She watched the unspoken conversation happen between the two when he came back downstairs and hoped that Terry asking them to take the kids to hang out with them overnight would help to resolve whatever marital issues they were having. Her daughter looked just as bad as her son-in-law and judging by the fact she looked like she just woke up and came from their guest bedroom rather than the masters upstairs that was no surprise. Her daughter had always slept better cuddled up next to someone her whole life and Terry had become the ultimate sleeping aid when they met. She’d had to stock up on his clothes for the times he was away while in the military just to get a wink, conditioning her body to accept no one’s presence but his to help her sleep.

“Hey baby, how are you?” Y/N’s mother asked.

Y/N tried to muster a smile but felt how off it was, she hoped her mom wouldn’t ask further questions when she said, “I’m fine mommy. What are you guys doing here? I thought we were going to see you on Sunday for the family barbecue.”

Y/N walked over to her parents to hug and kiss them, she sat next to her mom and leaned her head on her shoulder when her mom kept rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and welcomed the affection, it’d been weeks of forcing herself to not seek Terry out for physical contact and it had been hell. That was her top love language and as much as she loved them, kid hugs and kisses only went so far.

“You sure baby? You look tired.”

Y/N locked eyes with Terry again and sighed, “Yeah ma, I’m sure.”

Her father answered her question when he said, “Terry thought it might be a good idea if they had the opportunity to hang out with all the cousins that live nearby that’ll be hanging out tomorrow. Plus I’m sure he’d like some alone time with his wife. It’s been too long since you two have asked for a weekend anyway so it’s no problem.”

“Oh okay. That sounds nice,” she lied through her teeth, avoiding eye contact with Terry at all costs at this point. Diverting her attention she said, “You excited babies?”

She smiled the first genuine one since coming out of the room at the chorus of yes’s that graced her ears.

“Well I got everything in the car, carseat included,” Terry said, closing the front door behind himself, “and here’s some funds for the weekend.” He slipped some money into her father’s hand before he could register what’d been put there.

Her father looked down at what Terry gave him and got up to try and give it back. “Son, we do this everytime.”

“Then you should know that you’re leaving here with that money.”

Her father clapped Terry on the shoulder and they shared some chuckles as he couldn’t do anything, but shake his head and shake his son-inlaw’s hand. Not once since they had kids did Terry ever ask his parents-in-law to watch the kids without making sure they had a good chunk of change. The twins alone had been a handle full and a half since birth but babygirl turned their little hurricanes into big ones. He knew that whenever his wife tried she couldn’t win that argument so he’d made a point to be the one who did to keep the balance they both sought.

“Right you are son. Can’t blame an old man for trying though.”

“I can’t,” Terry said still chuckling. Thank you,” he looked to his mother-in-law as she stood up beside her husband, “both of you. We really need this.”

Y/N’s mom laid her hand on his face and said, “Anytime. You two need to take care of yourselves and each other first more often.” She moved towards the door trying to make this as short as possible. “Now let’s get family, leave these two lovebirds to nest alone.”

Terry and Y/N smiled at each other for the first time in weeks at the sound and sight of their kids saying “ewww” and fake gagging. It brought a pang to Y/N’s heart and she immediately frowned at the realization that they hadn’t seen or heard those reactions in too long.

She stayed seated, the kids coming up one by one to give their mommy a goodbye hug and kiss before they left, as Terry stood holding the door open and hugging and kissing everyone on the way out the door. She damn near cried when her mom kissed her on the forehead, the silent sign that her mom knew something was wrong and they would talk about it later. When Terry finally shut the door and turned around to stare her down all that had been left unspoken seemed to come out from the shadows and sit between them.

“Y/N, kitten?” Terry asked. She stopped looking past him at the door and finally looked at him at the pet name. He had his arms folded and was gripping his biceps to keep from rushing to touch his wife who hadn’t given him permission to touch her in the 5 weeks since she moved to the guest bedroom. They hadn’t played together in over 6 months, her figurative silence having been brewing longer than the weeks she was literally silent. She knew that he was asking for permission with the declaration, handing over his control of the situation with just the two names.

She gulped and whispered back, “Yes, big daddy?”

Terry let out a sigh of relief and released the hold he had on his arms, his hope restored that he hadn’t lost her. He still had a chance to fix this.

“It feels nice to hear you address me again, I’ve missed your voice little one,” he said as he walked towards his wife while rolling up the sleeves on his long sleeve shirt. He had turned the air up a few hours prior and put on the shirt in preparation of this moment. Y/N had a weakness for his arms and hands - over the years he’s learned that wearing long sleeves was the best way to use that to his advantage. With the way her breath hitched, her nipples pebbled beneath her outfit, and she got stuck eyeing his movements was a sight for sore eyes, it’d been too long since she let herself look at him like that. Since she got out of her head long enough for her body respond to him as it had always naturally done. In fact he knew the reason she had been avoiding him and sleeping in the guest room was because he was always able to get back in her good graces with just a few moments of existing. Any of their disagreements always ended with her folding no matter how mad she was throughout their whole relationship, so these last few weeks were a megaphone announcement that she was not playing around this time.

“Huh kitten?”

Y/N had no idea what words were coming out her husband’s mouth. Her pulsing pussy was ringing in her ears and she was lost in thinking about everything those hands could and would do to her. By the time she focused on his words again, Terry was standing in front of her grasping her chin to look him in his mesmerizing eyes.

“Did you even hear what I asked you?”

She gulped again and shook her head no. Curse this man and the hold he had on her. 6 weeks of holding out, staying quiet, and standing ten toes down on her frustrations, and all it took for her to let him back in was a few words and him rolling up his sleeves. Terry hadn’t even done anything yet and she knew that no matter how right she was, no matter how much she wanted to maintain her resolve, and no matter what Terry finally told her about what happened, she would be forgiving him. Hell, she already had the moment she walked into the living room to see her parents.

Terry repeated himself. “I said I missed hearing you address me little one. Did you know that? How much I’ve been aching to hear you speak to me, to be able to touch you. I have permission to touch you now though, don’t I kitten?”

“Ye-,” Y/N had to clear her throat, though it did nothing to clear the lust that had changed her voice to the breathy thing it was, “Yes big daddy.”

“Yes you know how much I’ve been aching or yes I have permission?”

“Yes to both big daddy.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “How did you know lil mama? We haven’t been talking so I haven’t had time to tell you.”

“Cause I’ve been aching too,” she squeaked out while the wiggle of her hips increased as she tried to create friction with her thighs. Y/N the woman could not help her right now, the only one present was the submissive.

“Have you? I couldn’t tell kitten.” Terry’s neutral expression turned into a frown as he cupped the base of her skull, gripping her locs to pull her head back, eliciting a moan from Y/N as her eyes slid close.

When Y/N opened her eyes again she was met with the fire behind Terry’s eyes and though it wasn’t what she was trying to do, it brought her great joy to see the dom in Terry. Not the soft one he’d been using as a shield, but the real dom, the one she fell in love with all those years ago. It had been entirely too long since he’d come out to play and she was starved. She nodded her head yes.

“Well you’ve done too good of a job hiding it from me these last few months mamas. I think it’s time we fixed that, don’t you?” he asked.

Y/N nodded again, best she could and Terry couldn’t help himself. He slapped her with an open palm, not to hurt her but to bring her focus back and make himself clear as he spoke, his voice deepening with the lust that now clouded every fibre of his being. “Words kitten. You will use them or I will stop.”

“No!”

Terry’s grip on her hair tightened and he raised an eyebrow.

Y/N stuttered to correct herself. “I mean no big daddy, please don’t stop. I’ll use my words.”

“Good. Now we will have that conversation and I will tell you everything you’ve been begging to know, consequences be damned, but I need to release some pent up energy and I know you do too. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes big daddy.”

Terry loosened his grip slightly and his face softened as he took in his wife, hanging onto every word, listening with all of her attention, already neck deep in subspace. “I don’t think you understand.”

“I do, I promise.”

Terry closed his eyes and shook his head. He was terrified, she was too trusting, too ready to give herself over to him for his release. She had no idea how much anger and grief he’d been storing these last few years and he had no idea what letting himself go to indulge would look like anymore. He’d been afraid of himself since the day the Chief handed him that money and he knew before ever seeing with his eyes that Mike was dead. “No you don’t. Kitten, I got a monster that I’ve been hiding from you, hell from myself half the time too, and I know I said I’ll explain later but I gotta make sure you’re warned properly before you agree. I don’t know if I can maintain my control tonight, it’s been too long-”

Y/N cut off his speech to start her own. Briefly breaking character for a moment, she laid a hand on his face and said “Terrance.” His eyes welled with tears he had to do everything to keep from falling when she continued. “I have waited almost 4 years for you to trust me with these shadow parts of yourself. I’ve been missing the version of you who trusted himself enough to allow me to be his release for almost 4 years. I don’t just miss my husband, I don’t just miss my dom, I miss you. Having access to all of you. I trust you.”

One rouge tear escaped and Y/N wiped it away before it make it too far down his face and stood cupping his face with both hands. Terry let his hands fall to her love handles as she kissed him and he let out a deep groan at the sight of her kneeling at his feet, clasping her hands together at the base of her spine and looking up at him with an expression that matched her declaration. “I’m ready big daddy. Do what you will.”

Terry wiped at his face and with his head thrown back he let out a long, “fuck.” Now that he’d started them down this road, he had a feeling that she was going to make him go the distance and it made him feral. His monster had been wanted out, but she just waved a proverbial red flag in front of him. She wanted to meet his monsters so bad? Bet. They wanted to devour her anyway and now, looking at her offering herself up so pretty, he would let them.

#fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x y/n #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond #dom!terry Richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction

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