#but he loves her so much and you can see it every time he looks at her so you know it's actually KILLING him to leave her again
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hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
ăVI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
ăEKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
ăJINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi x reader#vi#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko x reader#ekko
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And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.
NO IT FUCKING ISN'T HIS FAULT
First of all: I'm pretty sure every time we see Az and Crowley in the past, Crowley is wearing whatever is the height of fashion while Aziraphale wears things that are well made but several decades out. Meaning he is wearing them for a good while. Swapping his clothes around when they become maybe too worn, maybe too conspicuous.
Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.
Really? Was he born yesterday? He has no idea how the world works?
the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness. After all, look at Wee Morag.Â
It wasn't invented by the rich. It was 'invented' or used rather by the church that got used by the rich to keep the poor in place. There is no way you can blame Aziraphale for this. All he wanted is for Elspeth not to end up in Hell. Which Crowley wanted too, after he saw how upset it made Aziraphale. That's not fucking wrong. And you can't tell me either that rich have more opportunities to do good. Or that they do so. Or that more of them go to Heaven.
The inequality in humanity? Well, Adam and Eve had nothing. We have caused all this bullshit to ourselves. Nothing to do with Aziraphale. Or Crowley.
He respects her goodness tremendously. It proves to him his ârightness.âÂ
Did you mean to say, he's glad she's not heading for Hell.
And so he sabotages Elspethâs attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag. Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes heâs saving her soul.
He WAS saving her soul. Remember? Heaven and Hell being real places you go to when you die in GO?
Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world. Heâs all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth. Good heavens, heâs even willing to help this time!
Maybe next time try to be a bit more condescending to someone who just learned something new. And IMMEDIATELY changed his mind about it. Plus, Crowley had no idea digging up bodies could be spun to be a good thing either. He was learning just as much as Aziraphale. But I haven't seen one single FUCKING META about how Crowley was completely disinterested in Elspeth and her life. Only in having his usual argument with Aziraphale. Until he didn't. (And as I pointed out, he wasn't right about - you have start people off equal, people did start off equal, we are just assholes)
But, as we know, it all goes wrong. Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries. Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide.Â
In other words, everyone makes their own choices, things go badly for Wee Morag. Maybe re-watch the ep and see how Elspeth doesn't blame Aziraphale (or Crowley) for what happened. So why do you?
Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness. Â
Is he? Or is he taken cos he sent two guards directly down to Hell, alerting them?
And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.
(I deleted what I wrote here)
He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring. He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him.Â
There's absolutely NOTHING in canon to support this. We can HC whatever we want sure, I for example think that Az wears things, as I said above, that are stylish but always out of fashion because it takes him time to find the right things and then he wears them for decades and decades. Because that's what is suggested by the canon, by the care he puts into his clothes and how well loved they are. The fact that 'male' fashion got less flamboyant down the centuries was not Aziraphale's decision. I for example HC too that Azi, when building his bookshop, and using his own, earned money as you rightly say, was spending miracles on making sure his workers didn't injure themselves, that he spent miracles looking after the street urchins in the very poor neighbourhood he has chosen to settle in (as opposite to say Mayfair). And that when Gabriel told him off for using too many 'frivolous miracles' in 1792 he got mad and decided to go to Paris like the stupid angel he apparently is and get, say, ravished by his enemy who would surely find him helpless and not able to save himself in a prison.
What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.
Yes, because Aziraphale is an asshole who cares about nobody, and nothing, right?
the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag
Because he's NOT ALLOWED TO INTERVENE.
who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas
Do you think he should have just worked and worked and give all his money to poor people? Is that the answer to all the world's problems? Making Aziraphale poor?
willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt
Why wouldn't he. It's his property and I am sure he lends it to Maggie for significantly less than anyone else would have. Definitely less than those 'gentlemen' in the book who come and try to persuade the angel from time to time to sell his bookshop.
I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!
He's been the kind, big hearted angel he always was. Looking after his shop, his tenants and anyone else who he could. Saving babies in prams and making sure shady men never came back. Looking out for Crowley, trying to keep him out of trouble, worrying about him, keeping an eye out to see if he's not doing something reckless. Finding out the demon wants to rob a church, handing him the one thing that could take him away forever with the heaviest of hearts. While of course, Crowley was doing the same thing. Not giving in to Aziraphale's princess act in the Bastille because he knew it would not ultimately end well for them. Understanding when Aziraphale said no to a date in 1967, not surprised since he remembered well what happened in 1941 when they were seen together.
*** YES if Aziraphale did absolutely nothing on the graveyard, Wee Morag would have probably lived a bit longer. How much longer though... and they would very likely end up in Hell, because they would have had to do much more crime down the road. Maybe even get hanged for graverobbing. Also see: Aziraphale just wanted to help. Did you never make a mistake??? He didn't mean to hurt anyone. If he did nothing, he'd never have learned yet another way the world is complicated and not black and white. Crowley was going to do nothing at all, just have a laugh at someone robbing a grave. No one cares. He's a demon. He stopped Elspeth from killing herself and everyone applauds, yes, it is super kind of him, and dangerous for him too, but it is the right thing to do. He didn't want her to go to Hell either.
The people who think they would have figured everything out before any events happened at all...well, good luck in your life.
And people who think Az should have done nothing - okay then. Let's just all do nothing at all, hoping we avoid all the bad things. Also: Changing the world is not done via charity but via changing the society, creating better welfare systems, housing, medical care, education. Those are things one lone angel (and his husband) can't do. And it's not their place anyway. I have like 5 pounds in my bank account (I hope) and yet I am not blaming someone well-off for that. It's the systems that are failing us. Much like the systems failed Aziraphale and Crowley. Putting two wonderful beings through so much pain because - that's how it is done.
And as I have said a million times before, Aziraphale is not learning some morality lesson in GO (HE IS A WONDERFUL, GOOD, KIND, GENEROUS, BRAVE BEING ALREADY), he doesn't need to get off his high horse, he doesn't need to finally 'see things clearly'. He knows how fucked the system he lives in is. He's just trying to help. Even Crowley says (in the book) that Heaven is the better option over Hell. However fucked it is.
Aziraphale learns from Crowley that he can question things, yes. But not in some, oh he's so blind and stuck and deep in some dogma bullshit. NO. He was always told things will happen a certain way. That Earth gets 6000 years tops. That God Herself made a Plan. It may be Ineffable, but it is a Plan.
I'm sorry, if you think you are far smarter than this and you would have figured out that God is telling porkies, good for you, I'm glad such intellects exists.
Because Crowley also didn't know the Plan could be changed until the end of S1. Yes he asked Az to try stop Armageddon but I don't think he really believed they could. He just wanted to give it a go. Cos - well what did he have to lose?
And they did change it. They held Adam's hands and they told him to be himself and when Gabe and Beez wanted to go ahead anyway Az confused them by asking about which Plan said what. So yes, he learns to question things. And he learned that from Crowley. And Crowley? Who was abandoned by the one Being who was always supposed to love him? Well. Crowley looks into those blue eyes and trusts.
The Night That Changed an Angel (or, why does Aziraphale still wear that shabby vest?)
Mini-Meta Musing (#4)
I've been brooding for a long time about, of all things, Aziraphale's worn velvet vest and the long cream jacket he's kept in "tip top condition for over 180 years now." I love the sweet familiarity, but this is the same angel who popped across the Channel and almost lost his fluffy-topped head in 1793 for dressing like an aristocrat.
"I have standards!"
He's the height of elegance, extravagance even. A dandy. We've seen the same at the Globe Theater 1601, Edinburgh 1827, and even as a Knight of the Round Table in 527 Essex, where he's wearing a glorious pelt across his shoulders! However, sometime after Edinburgh 1827, Aziraphale's stylish extravagance ends. He adopts the dress of distinguished but modest gentility. No seamstresses strain their eyes for days hand stitching ruffles and trims for him any longer. When we next see him in 1862, his clothing is refined, simple, and serviceable. It becomes his uniform, with only minor replacements. Why? What happened to change him?
Edinburgh 1827 happened. And his encounter with tragedy ran over his sensibilities like a locomotive.
Aziraphale had, we were told, saved his earnings over time and had bought land, invested wisely, and became quite well off. He used real money, not miracles, to build the bookshop, paying the builders well and taking care of bills honestly. He built himself up to a more than comfortable lifestyle, from nearly nothing. And his clothes are real, not miracled from nothingness like Crowley's. (source: original showrunner)
Aziraphale's wealth allows him to afford luxurious tailoring and fancy shoes and ruffles and trims. He'll certainly pay the cobblers and tailors and seamstresses well for their labors. It will be a substantial expense for the era. (The linked post gives a wonderful perspective on 1793 lifestyles and costs.)
https://agoodflyting.tumblr.com/post/753227014283083776/why-aziraphales-white-satin-pumps-are-ridiculous
The angel's Edinburgh multilayered and trimmed top coat, soft leather gloves, matching scarf, jacquard vest, silk cravat, etc., look entirely out of place in the back alleys where the poor huddle. Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.
As he strolls along in philosophical banter with Crowley about the "blessing" of poverty, the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness. After all, look at Wee Morag. He respects her goodness tremendously. It proves to him his ârightness.â And so he sabotages Elspethâs attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag. Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes heâs saving her soul.
Itâs a poignant moment, though, when Aziraphale cradles the jar containing a tumor from a seven year old child who died because there wasnât enough medical knowledge to save him. Turning point number one. It becomes Real, not a philosophical debate. Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world. Heâs all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth. Good heavens, heâs even willing to help this time!
But, as we know, it all goes wrong. Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries. Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide. Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.  And it is All. Aziriphaleâs. Fault.
Turning point number two. Another watershed moment where Aziraphaleâs world changes again.
One of Crowleyâs last earthly acts, before getting plunged into hell, is to have Aziraphale give Elspeth all of his pocket money. What is pocket money to the angel is a fortune to her, one that can set her up for a better life. I have no doubt that in the aftermath of the traumas of that night, missing and worrying about Crowley, Aziraphale thinks about all of this. He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring. He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him. He wants to help, and to try to make amends for the harm he caused. What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.
Iâd love to know the story of how it all played out. Did he sell his fine clothing and donate the proceeds? Did he become involved in charitable foundations? Did he buy the clothing of a simple gentleman and decide to preserve it, however worn it became, as a reminder to himself of his past blindness and vanity? We see in Season 1 how important it is to him to preserve that coat. (Sure, it's also a fantastic opportunity to flirt and flutter those angelic eyelashes... But, nonetheless!)
By Season 2, the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag, and who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas, willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt. I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!
Whatever happened, it began that night in a graveyard.
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#edinburgh minisode#edinburgh#aziraphale defence squad#aziraphale my beloved#good omens 2#good omens thoughts#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#kaypost
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can you do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner dressed up in a very attractive Halloween costume??
Oh fuck yeah-
Jinx
Jinxâs eyes would light up the second she saw you in your costume, her usual chaotic energy intensifying. Sheâd let out a loud gasp and then immediately break into an excited, manic laugh. âYou look SO awesome!â sheâd shout, unable to contain herself. Sheâd likely run over to you, her hands all over you, admiring the details of your outfit, pulling at the fabric with excitement. âHowâd you do that? Can I steal your look?!â Sheâd probably try to get you to show off for her, demanding that you do a little twirl or model the costume from different angles, all while giggling like a maniac. But under her craziness, there would be a look of absolute admirationâsheâs so into you in that costume.
Vi
Vi would pause for a second, her jaw dropping slightly as she tries to take in just how stunning you look. Her usual tough, no-nonsense demeanor would falter, her face turning a little red as she stammers, âW-wow⊠you look⊠incredible.â Sheâd be awestruck but also very proud to have you on her arm, the protective streak in her coming out as she immediately takes a step closer, wanting to keep you to herself. Her eyes would constantly flicker over you, her mind not entirely focusing on anything else for the moment. âIâI mean, damn, youâre looking real good,â sheâd murmur, though sheâd be blushing the entire time.
Sevika
Sevikaâs reaction would be more subtle, but no less intense. Her eyes would scan your costume slowly, and sheâd give a low whistle. âNot bad, not bad at all.â Sheâd try to maintain her usual cool, aloof demeanor, but there would be a heat in her gaze, and her usual sarcastic smirk would soften into something more appreciative. âI could get used to seeing you like this,â sheâd say, her voice low and husky. Sheâd likely pull you close to her, hands resting possessively on your waist. She may even get a little possessive, keeping you close and making sure no one else gets too close. âJust remember, youâre with me tonight.â
Silco
Silco would have a bit of a calculated reaction, but the desire and admiration in his eyes would be impossible to miss. Heâd raise an eyebrow and observe you carefully, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. âYou do know what youâre doing, donât you?â heâd say in his usual low, smooth voice, his eyes dark with approval. He wouldnât openly gush like Jinx, but his attention would be fixed solely on you, and he would make a point to remind you how incredible you look. âI hope you realize youâve just made it impossible for anyone else to compare.â His words would carry a mix of appreciation and possessiveness, his arm quickly wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss, marking you as his.
Vander
Vander would be the gentle, protective type whoâs taken by surprise at how gorgeous you look. His eyes would widen for a brief second, but then heâd soften, a proud, almost fatherly smile forming on his face. âWell, donât you look beautiful,â heâd say, his tone warm and sincere. Heâd reach out to hold your hand, giving it a tender squeeze, making sure you feel cared for and appreciated. Heâd be protective but in a way that was full of respect, as if he were holding onto a precious gem that he didnât want to lose. âIâm lucky to have you,â heâd add quietly, his eyes full of love.
Ekko
Ekko would likely grin the second he saw you, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. âDamn, [Y/N], youâre lookinâ fire!â heâd say, his voice filled with admiration and a touch of disbelief. His hands would immediately reach out to pull you closer, eyes scanning every inch of your costume. âYou know, youâre making it hard to focus on anything else when you look that good.â Heâd probably tease you a little, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. âYou sure you can handle this much attention?â His excitement and affection would be clear, but heâd also be a bit shy about how stunning you look, maybe hiding a slight blush under his usually cool demeanor.
Jayce
Jayce would be all over the place, his usual charming self kicked into overdrive. His face would light up with a huge grin, and heâd immediately start complimenting you with unrestrained enthusiasm. âWell, I must say, Iâm impressed,â heâd say, his voice filled with genuine admiration. âYou look absolutely amazing.â His hands would hover around you, unsure if he should touch you or just admire from afar. âHow did you even manage to look this good?â heâd ask, his voice almost in awe. His excitement would be contagious, and heâd definitely make sure you knew that you were the star of the show tonight.
Viktor
Viktor would take a more reserved approach, his eyes immediately locking on you as soon as you entered the room. His usually analytical mind would be momentarily overwhelmed by the sight of you in such an attractive costume. Heâd take a slow, appreciative breath, unable to hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. âYouâre⊠quite striking,â heâd say, his voice soft and sincere, but thereâs a warmth in his eyes that wasnât there before. Heâd try to keep his composure, but the way he kept glancing at you would betray his fascination. âItâs hard to concentrate on anything else when you look like this,â heâd admit, stepping a little closer, his hand gently reaching for yours.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be the picture of elegance, but underneath her calm and composed exterior, she would definitely be stunned. Sheâd take a moment to collect herself before offering you a sincere smile. âYou look absolutely radiant,â sheâd say, her voice soft with affection. Her hands would reach out to touch you, a subtle sign of how much she appreciated the way you looked. Sheâd tease you a bit, a playful glint in her eyes. âI hope you donât mind all the attention youâre about to get. You look too good to be ignored.â Her protective instincts would kick in, but it would come across as sweet, not possessiveâshe just wants to keep you all to herself.
Mel Medarda
Mel would observe you with a cool, composed gaze at first, but underneath her calculated demeanor, she would be very impressed. âYou look stunning,â sheâd say, her voice smooth and confident. Sheâd circle around you, eyes appraising every detail of your costume, and you could tell by the way her eyes lingered on you that she was enjoying what she saw. âYou always know how to turn heads.â Sheâd pull you close, her lips curling into a small smile as she whispered, âAnd youâll turn mine tonight, too.â
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would be unapologetically intense in her reaction. Her sharp eyes would flicker over you, assessing every inch of your costume with a predatory gaze that made your heart race. âYouâre dangerous,â sheâd say, her voice deep and commanding, as if your appearance had just elevated you to something beyond ordinary. Sheâd step closer, her presence almost overwhelming as she lightly grazed your cheek. âNo one else will compare to you tonight,â sheâd whisper, her tone full of possessive heat. Sheâd pull you in for a kiss that would leave you breathless, a silent promise of what the night would bring.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would immediately smile, her eyes lighting up with excitement. âWow, you look amazing,â sheâd say, her voice warm and full of admiration. Sheâd instantly walk up to you, giving you a playful look. âYouâre going to have to fend off all the other admirers now,â sheâd tease, though itâs clear she only has eyes for you. Sheâd probably touch your arm or your waist, her hands lingering just enough to make you feel her affection. âLucky for me, Iâm the one who gets to be with you tonight.â
Lest
Lestâs reaction would be a mix of curiosity and delight. Her cat-like eyes would widen as she took in your costume, and her tail would flick with excitement. Sheâd approach you slowly, her hands almost instinctively reaching out to trace the fabric or any details of your costume. âMmm, youâre quite the sight,â sheâd purr, her voice soft and sensual. âI might have to be careful not to get too distracted by how irresistible you look.â Sheâd give you a playful wink, her feline nature making her extra touchy-feely as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours in a gesture that felt more affectionate than anything.
#arcane x reader#x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#jinx arcane#arcane vi#character x reader#jinx x reader#vi arcane#arcane#arcane silco#arcane sevika#arcane vander#arcane victor#arcane caitlyn#maddie arcane#mel merdada#ambessa medarda#mel medarda#use me pls#jayce arcane#arcane ekko#lest arcane
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aline
âet j'ai criĂ©, criĂ© "aline!" pour qu'elle revienne, et j'ai pleurĂ©, pleurĂ©, oh j'avais trop de peineâ
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pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: sometimes youâd talk about dying to wednesday, though it was something an addams couldnât ever really fear. that was, until the person being lost was you.
warnings: erm you die lol, major character death, wednesday being sad, mentions of blood, self sacrifice, maybe a little contrived way to die but too bad
word count: 1.6k
A/N: i promise im okay but this was truly an interesting plot line to follow, and i couldnât bear not writing it down. if it made you sad, donât worry, because i have more fluffy stuff on the way. it was something short i had considered doing for a long time, so even if this flops i'm completely happy with how it came out.
===+++===
===+++===
"Wednesday?" you asked, eyes on the wooden ceiling of her room. From the way her head rests against the warm plane of your chest, she can feel the smooth skin move as you say her name, heart right under her ear. It nearly lulls her to sleep, had it not been a question.
"Yes?" she purrs, lazily propping herself up on her arm. There are heavy weights on her eyelids, but the line of your mouth tells her something is troubling you. Youâre too saturnine, much too glum for what you and Wednesday just did, and her eyes soften imperceptibly, her thumb going to your side to quietly stroke itself back and forth there. âWhatâs plaguing you?â
You canât help but shudder at the contact of her hand and the goosebumps the pads of her fingers leave in their wake. âAre you... do you...," you attempt, the question falling flat on your tongue. She furrows her eyebrows at your hesitation.
"Say your thoughts,â she says, forehead creased in concern. It's almost funny, how caring and soft she is, now that she's given up on trying to seem aloof and apathetic towards you, her skin warm against your own.
The Addams Curse to love someone with every fibre of their being had taken hold of Wednesday entirely, and she looked at you sometimes like you held her beating heart in your hands, or at least like she'd cut it out for you, if you were to need it. She raises a hand, gently brushing a few hairs from your forehead.
âAre you afraid of dying?â
Her eyebrows furrow even further, scanning your face for any indicators of harm. âWhere is this coming from? Has something been done to you?â
But you shrug, finally looking down to look her in the eyes with softness. âI was just wondering⊠are you?â
She narrows her eyes. âYou know Iâm an Addams. Death is a friend, not a foe. Fear of that serves no purpose. Only cowardice from facing a fight. Only to make you weak.â
Your eyes flit away. âHm.â Thereâs no hiding of disagreement in your tone, and it has an embarrassing amount of power over her, how she itches to know what goes on in that head of yours.
âWhat?â
âI think⊠I think my fear is what makes me strong. Iâm afraid of losing those I care about. And so I fight with every bit of sweat, blood, and tears that I have. Your loss is my deepest fear, Wednesday. My deepest.â
She stared at you momentarily, then looked out the window to the stars. âHow is one to fear death when it is far from the end? Death may take me from your sight, but it cannot take me from your heart. There I live, vibrant and whole. Forever.â
===+++===
Youâd never even realised how much blood the human body could actually hold, until you were standing there in the centre of the quad with an arrow straight right below your heart, its steel tip poking from your back. Your own blood coated your hands where you cupped it, dribbling down the splintered wood and splattering in droplets to the cobblestone in thick, dark red splotches.
The bloodâ your bloodâ is coming out even more now, and you turn to look at Wednesday, where you had shoved her out of harmâs way. Her eyes are wide in horror, like she's seeing something straight from a nightmare of hers, and you take a clammy step towards her, frigid and burning at the same time.
âWensââ you stammer, and suddenly your knees are giving out. She rushes forward, trying to catch you in her arms, but you're too heavy, deadweight that tugs on her. You fall onto them, your knees, clutching at the newly opened maw of your chest with a gasp, and before you know it youâre falling forward towards the floor.
Wednesday follows you down, catching you before you can land, and she holds you tight, turning you over onto your back as the arrow sticks straight up from the heart she cherishes so much. The wood is already splintering, nearly falling apart, and her hand goes to your wound as if trying to put your blood back into your body.
Itâs uncomfortable, with the metal tip of Xavierâs arrow sticking from the back of your chest and lightly prodding at her front, but she squeezes you tightly against herself, hands frantically travelling the length of your torso and raking over your arms, anywhere she can reach. But thereâs nothing she can do. Itâs a thought she refuses to confront, but Wednesday specialised in dealing with dead things; she was unfamiliar with how to keep things alive, no matter how much she needed you to stay that way.
Crackstone is cackling from his belly, a toothy sneer spreading itself out onto his leathery face as he looks at the damage heâs done, stomping towards you. âHey!â Bianca yells from the opposite door, and the pilgrim whips around, as Xavier takes another shot at him. It lands in the pilgrimâs arm but he pulls it out like a twig, snapping it and tossing it to the ground, before he makes his way towards Bianca.
Your white shirt is completely soaking itself in your blood, droplets running down Wednesdayâs fingers where she tries to hold the wound and apply pressure. But there was no saving a skewered heart.
"No, no, no," she coos, voice barely above a whisper and tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. You're crying out in pain as the arrow shifts within you, fingers scrabbling at Wednesday's arms where they hold at you. Your fingernails sink into her skin, and she winces but doesn't pull away.
"Wens," you say again, infinitely weaker than before. "WednesdayâŠâ Itâs like your mouth wonât move coherently with your brain, like words mean trudging through ice and slush to come out, even the red-hot ones you need to say. âHâHurts,â you spit out, and with it comes a small stream of blood from your mouth as you cough and air becomes less and less available.
She nods in a rush, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. âIâm aware, I know,â sheâs completely crying now. âWe will get you care, cara mia, just holâ just hold on for a little while.â But youâre shaking your head.
âDonât haveâ I donât haveââ youâre coughing up more blood, and she wipes it from your chin with a shaky hand. Thereâs just too much of it, everywhere. You had once gifted her some as a token of your devotion and it was a prized possession of hers, but now there was so much and she would have given it back in a heartbeat if it gave you any more of those.
She can vaguely hear Bianca and Xavier yelling on the other side of the quad, and various fires rage on in their chaotic yet vibrant corners, tickling against her skin in large crackles, burning in the reflection of your eyes that stare up at the sky. Your head is leaning against her shoulder, and she raises her hand, stroking through your soft hair as you heave in her arms.
âYou must live, I promise you,â Wednesday insists fiercely, âI promise you, if you die right now, I will kill you.â But its tears that streak down her face, her jaw clenching and dark eyeliner running down her cheeks. Sheâs squeezing you right against herself, feeling the pain of the sharp arrow poke at her own skin.
âVibrant and whâwhole?â you said with a smile, feeling your voice begin to slow down and with it, the beating of your heart. The blood has pooled in a sick puddle around your body.
Sheâs shaking her head. âCara mia, we donât need to do this, we will get you to a doctor. You will beââ
ââWednesday,â you interrupt. Your voice has reached an eerie calm that sends a shiver down her spine, and it snaps her from any sort of hope. âVibrant⊠and whole?â
She looks down at you for a moment, tracing the features of your nose, the planes of your cheeks, the colours of your eyes and the wryness of your smile. Wednesday swallows. âForever. You know that. You must always know that.â
You nod, letting out a small laugh. It hurts, she can hear you wheeze right after you done it, but you sit in silence for a moment, and she can feel you get slower and slower, and your shirt gets redder and redder. The tears are uncontrollable, now, as she sits there with you. Her friends are losing in the corner, but she's losing something unthinkable, and she's so damn scared the entire time it's happening.
"The stars look beautiful tonight," you whisper so only she can hear it, your voice cracking at the end. In seconds, you're gone. She can feel the life, the glorious life, evaporate from you, your head lulling back against her and your weight becoming a hundred times heavier, but she doesn't move, squeezing you against her.
She's unsure how long she stays like that, but when she can no longer take it, she shifts, laying you down on the ground. You look peaceful, looking up at the stars, and it takes an effort to close your eyes that Wednesday had never felt with the dead before. She gently closes them, shutting the door on the eyes that used to captivate her very heart. It's almost like she could convince herself that you're only resting for a moment, and she leans over you, placing a meaningful kiss upon your forehead, just like she would when she snuck out after a night of sleeping over, and there were no prying eyes there to watch.
"Vibrant and whole," she whispers like a promise, turning back to the fight with a piece of the sword in her shaking fists. "For you, cara mia."
===+++===
well that was sad... anyways more happy stuff coming next time
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#letorip#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x y/n
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The Brave (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
Summary: A collection of first times with Daemon.
Warnings: Bastard! Reader. Daddy issues. Corruption kink. Innocence kink. Age difference, power imbalance. Poorly translated HV. Angst. Enemies to lovers (Sort of?) Happy ending. Usual warnings for Daemon (Sexual thoughts, mature language, violence)
Requested: Yes! My first after Halloween, life has been crazy.
THE FISHERMEN SAIL too early for your liking. You know it has little to do with their personal preference, and more to do with the tides. It doesnât mean you are happy about it, though.
Your job is to ensure all your ships are in good condition and ready to transport whatever those men bring home. Your mother had made a small fortune by expanding her fatherâs fleet, and after her passing, it was your turn to handle it. You preferred to oversee things personally, knowing that only an ownerâs touch could ensure the quality of service you prided yourself in.
No one loved these ships more than you. Small and old they were, but they tied you to your mother. You lacked her knowledge, and sometimes, they made you far less money than you hoped for, but you insisted on keeping them. Your siblings had not shown such an interest, choosing other pursuits.
Allyn, much more practical, had preferred to learn the trade of a shipwright. He now worked under Lord Corlys. It embarrassed you to say it, but it was him and not you who was the breadwinner of your family. Some months, if not most, it was far more lucrative than your business with the ships.
Addam worked occasionally as a shipwright too, but he didnât have a steady source of income. He was far too young to be hired anywhere, lacking the experience most lords wanted from those building their ships. Sometimes, he also helped you.
Today wasnât one of those days. Otherwise, you would have forced him to come here in your stead. With a grumble, you jumped from the ship to the dock. Everything was as it should, so you had to move to the next one.
The sunrise makes Hull look even more beautiful, the city slowly beginning to rise under Driftmarkâs watchful eyes. The white marble and ivory of the castle provide a backdrop for the goldens and pinks that color the scene. It would make you smile, were it not for the fact that the peaceful morning is ruined by every damn bell in the city tolling.
Visitors. Noble ones. By the amount of noise, they are announcing the visit of someone very high ranking.
The splash of cold water against your ankle makes you grumble more. You hated getting your shoes wet. Or your ankles. You fix your hair scarf, worried that the sea breeze will make it come loose.
You shouldnât have bothered. A harsh gust of wind takes it fully off and nearly sends you caroling into the water. The dock shakes underneath you, the ships and water agitated by the same thing. You scream, as do the rest of the sailors who are near.
As you look up, you see him. A man, with silver hair and a smug look on his face, riding atop a dragon. He is showing off, ducking low, the dragonâs tail dipping in the water before springing back up again. It is what is causing the breeze. You marvel for a second, wondering how such a gigantic beast can be so nimble.
You had never seen a dragon up close before. You are not allowed to go near Driftmark, where the Princess and the Lord and Lady keep theirs.
The few captains and sailors that were on the docks alongside you have fled. But not you. Alone, silver hair in full display, you stand frozen in the same spot you had been before seeing him pass.
The man smiles. He winks at you.
You lower your eyes and do not stop running until you are safe at home.
DAEMON SEES YOU again when he least expects it. He has looked for you in every pleasure house on this island and has not been able to find you. The brave little maiden with silver hair, who had screamed bloody murder but stood her ground on the docks when she saw him approach.
You must be of Valyrian descent. There is no other explanation for your lack of fear. You were young and comely, so he had guessed that you must be a whore. It was what happened to girls who looked like you. Men loved pretending they were either a Princess or the daughter of some lord. And so close to Driftmark? They probably asked you to pretend you were little Laena Velaryon.
Daemon would have so enjoyed to play such a game himself. His future bride was far too young to do little more than court under her parentsâ watchful eyes. If he could sneak a bit of a taste in advance, you wouldnât catch him complaining about it.
When he had agreed to accompany Corlys to oversee the progress being made on the news ships for his fleet, the last thing he expected to encounter was you.
Your laughter was the first thing that caught his attention, a sound so girlish it seemed improper among the men carrying saws and woods for the ships. His head had turned instinctively towards the sound, and it was then that he saw you.
The dress you had on was a plain gray, as it was the headscarf you wore. But Daemon would know that face anywhere. He had sought everywhere for it. You were holding a small basket, next to some shipwright. The man looked older than you, already bald. You were all smiles and animated gestures, seemingly taken by him.
The man tickled your side, and you laughed again. You handed him the basket and kissed him on the cheek.
Daemon seethed. He hated sharing. With whores, it was to be expected, yet it didnât make it anymore palatable. It was why he enjoyed taking maidenheads so much. Yet, he could ignore it if the woman was pretty or well-trained enough, like he did with Mysaria. To watch a whore with her lover, though, it was intolerable.
Whores were professional liars. You paid them to pretend to be someone they were not. But watching you with a man you truly loved would forever break the fantasy. There was no way he could believe the sweetest lies on your tongue, not when he knew what you looked like when truly in love.
Is it in bad taste to approach you when his future father-in-law is distracted by his sailors? Probably. But he cannot stop himself. Because the only thing Daemon can think of, the only thing that would make him feel better, is to bring you as low as he. Ruin your little fantasy as you had ruined his.
He marches towards where the man and you are, and gently cups your chin in his hand. The sudden interruption startles you, and you try taking a step back, but his sweet hold has turned into Valyrian Steel. There is no escape for little whores.
âI looked for you in the brothel, but you were not there.â
âI⊠Excuse me?â Your voice is shrill, more angered than panicked. âDo I know you?â
And oh, the nerve on you. The nerve to question him, as if he were just a passing man on the street and not a Prince of House Targaryen. The same nerve that drove you to stand your ground against Caraxes.
Begrudgingly, Daemon has to name the strange feeling taking place in his stomach. Awe. Admiration. You had fire in your belly, and steel on your spine. You were a truer Valyrian than many of his own family members.
They were weak. Soft. You were not. But you were still a mere peasant, and he couldnât allow you to disrespect him such.
âYou should be more careful on how you address your betters.â
You shove him, hard. And Daemon feels his rage bubbling up, and raises a hand to do something he will most likely regret⊠But before he can strike you, the man you had been smiling at steps in.
âUnhand her.â He says, voice firm. His expression doesnât waver, the same steel you have mirrored in his brown eyes. Up close, he is much younger than Daemon expected, tall and muscular from what seems like a life of hard work. He tugs you behind him.
âAnd who are you? The husband? The brothel owner?â Daemon sneers, getting in his face. Your hand comes up in between them, fragile and unadorned. Yet, you hit with strength, palm flat against his chest. Daemon laughs and grabs it between his. You attempt to pull back, but his grip is much firmer. âAh, cupping a feeling, sweetheart?â
âDaemon.â And really, things were just turning interesting. Why does Corlys have to interrupt at the worst time possible? âUnhand her immediately.â
At his appearance, both you and the boy turn an awful gray shade that matches your dress and headscarf. Fear of their liege, perhaps?
But the boyâs jaw ticks, and your dark eyes lower in a manner that they hadnât when facing him. Something else is at play here.
âI was justâŠâ Daemon slowly retracts his hand, studying the surrounding faces carefully. You, sullen, the boy enraged. Corlysâ cold as ice. Neither of you speak, yet it is clear you are not strangers.
âI do not care. Unhand her. We do things different in Driftmark.â
And the tone Corlys uses is strange, for a man unbothered by the costs of power. What are two peasants to the favor of a Prince? Why does he know them? He had never struck Daemon as someone concerned by his subjects.
And then, a piece of your hair falls out of your headscarf. Silver against a dark background. And it is then he knows it. You are no dragonseed. Nor is the boy with the shaved head.
âYOU DO THINGS different here, for certain.â Prince Daemon says, appearing at your window while you knead bread. His presence is as unexpected as it is unwelcome. It is the first time you are home alone after the incident, not Addam nor Allyn willing to risk this stranger attempting anything worse than he already has. Three days had passed, and they had considered it enough. If the man had not approached you during that time, it meant he wouldnât, right? Clearly no. He had just been bidding his time, waiting for both of your brothers to go. âCorlys's little secret.â
Your hands shake. You wished Allyn wasnât so set on teaching Addam his craft, and hadnât gone out today. Being home alone with a strange man around didnât spell anything good for you.
A quick glance at the door reassures you that it is still barred. You take a not so subtle step back from the window.
The prince lipâs quirk upwards, not quite a smile, but betraying his amusement. Does he find your fear funny?
âI wonât hurt you, my lady. I didnât mean to scare you, either.â His voice is gentle, as if dealing with a spooked animal. The title makes you scoff. No one has ever called you a lady, much less a Prince.
As a child, you used to watch Laena Velaryon and pretend you were her. Wondering what life would have been like if you didnât have to hide, if your father acknowledged you. Wondering what it would feel, to be a Lady and never go to bed hungry, to be surrounded by beauty all day.
You are no lady. You are a bastard girl, and you have gone to bed nearly starving more times than you could count.
As if sensing your thoughts, Prince Daemon lifts one of his hands. He holds up a package, wrapped in bright white silk. Both he and his gift look deeply out of place here, near your window. In his fine clothes, in brighter colors than you can afford, he sticks out like a sore thumb.
âAny child of mine, even if natural-born, would never have to go hungry. Your father should be doing more for you, not hiding you three like a shameful secret.â
You do not take the parcel. You merely look at him and fight an overwhelming urge to cry.
âHere.â Prince Daemon pushes the parcel through the window. âConsider this my apology for my behavior. Rather uncouth, huh?â
You open it carefully. Two smaller parcels fall from it, both as carefully wrapped.
âYou can wear the silk.â He tells you, gesturing to your hair. âAnd the restâŠâ
Curious, you peer into one of the parcels. Itâs full of cured meat.it would have cost him a pretty penny, having it already preserved for you. It is a luxury Addam, Allyn and you never get to have. Not since your mother passed.
With rushed hands, you open the other parcel. A small sack of flour, lemons, and pages torn from a book. They are all expensive things, nothing like the flour you buy at the market to make bread or the bruised fruit you get when Addam craves something sweet. You squint at the pages, puzzled by their presence.
âMix one cup of flour with⊠Is this..?â You ask him, astonished. A small smile begins to form on your face.
âThe recipe for lemon cakes. For your baking.â He smiles back. He then gestures to your hands, still covered in flour. âI hear you enjoy it. Just⊠Save me a piece.â
âThank you.â You beam at him. He gives you a bow, and leaves. You find yourself smiling like a fool the rest of the afternoon.
You cannot believe it. Prince Daemon has just given you the recipe for lemon cakes. As far apologies go, this is a great one.
Addam and Allyn go to bed with full stomachs. You go to bed with yours full of butterflies. No one has ever ensured such for the three of you.
âIS IT CLOSE enough?â You bite your lower lip, watching Daemon chew a piece of cake. His brows furrow a bit, and he lets out a small, throaty moan.
âClose enough. A tad more lemony than the one at Driftmark, but I like it.â He smiles. You fight the urge to beam. He has been coming almost daily after bringing you the lemons, but it is the first time you allow him to taste your creation.
He says it is because he enjoys the walk. You are not entirely sold, but thinking it is to see you seems a bit conceited.
âI got excited.â You scratch the back of your neck, sheepish. The batter had smelt and tasted so heavenly, you had just kept adding more.
Daemon laughs. He uses his now free hand to tug you towards his side. You love when he does that. The gesture feels very protective. He never lets you walk too far from him, or on the side next to the ocean, so you never stumble or get soaked by an errant wave.
Itâs peaceful here. He often says he cares not for the ocean, but the two of you always walk the same route. From your home, towards your ships, then back.
âWouldnât you like to go somewhere else?â You ask him, watching the waves lap at the shore. Then, feeling stupid for asking, you lower your eyes. As much as you feign blindness, you are not blind. He is probably ashamed to be seen with the likes of you. Even your father is. Why wouldnât a Prince?
Your eyes feel warm, and your vision blurs. Gods, you hate crying. You try to focus on something else. Your scuffed shoes. His boots. The sand under your feet. The urge to run away, and scream, and die from the humiliation of even asking.
Daemon sighs. He sits down on the sand, patting the space on his side. His clothes, despite their simple design, are very fine.
âYour clothesâŠâ You mumble, without sitting.
âBah, I have three other cloaks like this one.â As if proving a point, he takes it off, laying it down for you to sit. You feel even sillier at his patience. âCome. Sit down, jorrÄeliarzys.â
You obey him because there is little else to do. You have already messed up, you donât wish to make any other mistake. His company has become precious to you, a welcome respite from your brothers. Living with two boys, you are never alone. But every so often, you wish for more engaging conversation.
âI am not ashamed of being seen in your company. I just⊠I thought you preferred it here.â Daemon explains, softly tucking a stray curl behind your ear. âWould you like for us to meet in the city, instead?â
You think of meeting him in the cityâs market. Of the rumors that would sure follow, of the names you would be called. Of your father finding out. You know what it would look like to him. That you are making the same mistake as your mother did.
You are not dumb. Daemon is not here to simply plan an alliance. Alliances are always sealed in blood, and your half sister is barely old enough to be considered.
Your mother and you are different. She didnât know your father was using her. You know Daemon is using you. And you intend to use him right back, milk him for all of his worth.
So why does it hurt like this, why does it feel like something inside you is breaking?
You take the parcels he gives you without any shame. That night, as the three of you are eating a generous serving of venison, Allyn scowls.
âI donât like it. Canât you see what he wants?â
Addamâs fork freezes midway to his mouth. He looks down at his plate, as if he is truly seeing the meat he is being served for the first time.
âI am not mother.â You say, icily. The venison tastes bitter on your tongue, but stubbornly, you keep eating. Allyn is just angry that it is not longer him who is putting the meals on the table. âI know what highborn men are like.â
What your father is like, too. How they use women as if they were little more than things, how they produce children and leave them to their fates.
âAll the more reason not to allow him to take your maidenhead.â
âDo you listen to yourself?â You scoff, getting up. âMaidenheads, as if I were some great lady. I can handle it. Handle him.â
Allyn looks at you, eyes full of pity. You cannot bear it. Your eyes sting again. You hurry out of the table.
âWhere are you going?â Addam reaches forward, as if to grab you.
âTo my room. The two of you have ruined my appetite.â But it wasnât the two of them, not really. Daemon is ashamed of you, the voice in your head whispers. Ashamed of you, just like your father was. He only wants to use you, and once he has had his fill, he will discard you. Just like your father did to your mother.
Alone, in your room, you tear the headscarf he had given you to shreds. You squeeze the rests on your palm, you make a ball, you throw it against the wall.
The next morning, you have sobbed your throat raw. You still go to meet him in the afternoon.
SOMETHING IS WRONG. Daemon can tell when he picks you up that day. Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and your complexion an awful gray. The headscarf he had given you is nowhere to be seen, and you are back to your severe gray one.
Like a bad case of heartburn, the lie he had told you comes back to him, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth.
Daemon is not ashamed of you, but doesn't want to be seen with you either. The consequences for you would be too great. He had learned his lesson with Mysaria. The double stain would have made you a pariah, both because of your birth and because of whom you were bedding.
Because it was all that people would think about when they found out. No one would believe Daemon had yet to touch you.
He was unsure if he ever would.
You were an extraordinary girl, yet still a bastard. There was nothing to be done about it. All you could be was friends and lovers, and nothing more.
Yet, your dark eyes were so kind, your face full of such happiness, Daemon dared not to sully you. Something in you screamed at his instincts to protect, something tugged at his heartstrings when he saw your face scrunched up towards the sun, and told him to gather you in his arms and never let anything touch you.
Daemon had been like you, once. When younger. He, too, felt a lack of acknowledgement by those around you, and an urge to prove himself. His father had passed when he was still young, and Viserys had received all laurels. It would have never bothered him because he loved his brother, but Viserys had left him behind. Married Aemma. Had children. Gained the love of his people, found new friends.
Never once Viserys had looked at Daemon. No matter how hard he tried to reach for him, his brother always evaded his hand. Daemon had been left there. He, too, had stood on the shadows and feigned indifference, burning up with secret resentment.
The idea of you growing up to be like him was both appealing and horrifying. There was a sweetness to you, a naïveté that he had lacked even in his younger years. He wanted to preserve it. Shield you from the world.
Bedding you would ruin you. Daemon enjoyed playing the role of mentor, teaching you new things, helping you gain experiences you would never get as a bastard girl. Yet, you had such a tempting figure, with a mouth made for sin, and a body that begged for worship. You were a little girl, but you had all the self-possession and looks of a grown woman.
You would taste exquisite on his tongue, crumbling from his caresses. Your cunt would feel like wet velvet around him, and you would sound your sweetest when he was spearing you open on his cock.
And how would you smile, joyous and fierce, his brave girl. Some maidens cried, but not you. You were made of sterner stuff, a heart that burned brighter and stronger than the Fourteen Flames. You had stood your ground, terrified but unbowed, in front of Caraxes himself.
Such a face you had, all Valyrian empress. A sovereign nose, the fleeting shadow of your eyelashes, and a slippery laugh that always gave you an air of mischief. A face not made for sadness. It is what prompts him to do what will become either the greatest mistake of his life, or his greatest triumph.
âI was thinkingâŠâ Daemon says, watching your expression closely. âWe could go to a tavern tonight.â
âA tavern?â The surprising offering shakes you out of your sadness. Your face changes from a sad little frown into a curious one.
âHave you ever gone to one?â Daemon tugs the hair scarf from your hair, softly. The silver curls fall free, in a lovely mess. You scowl, trying to get it back, but he holds it just out of your reach. Itâs a lovely thing, to watch you give little jumps on your tiptoes, curls bouncing with the motion. âAh! None of that, now. Answer my question first.â
âNo, I havenât. Addam and Allyn go from time to time, but it sounds too rowdy for my liking.â You cross your arms over your chest.
âItâs rowdy, but in a good sense.â Daemon cannot help it. Your curls are a bit mussed, from wearing the ugly headscarf for too long. He fixes them, fluffing them up slightly at the roots in the way he has seen handmaidens do for Laena. He then tosses the damn thing into the sea, for good measure, ignoring your outraged cry. âDrinks, music, people, greasy food. You will love it.â
âI hate drinking.â You wrinkle your nose, cutely. He fights the urge to bite you. The face you make is too sweet, too tempting.
âBecause you have only drunk swill. Iâll teach you to drink real wine.â He tugs you into his side, and begins walking back into the city.
The walk to the city is awkward. Not because the two of you have nothing to talk about, but rather, because of the stares. Your silver hair, despite your simple clothing, commands attention. So does Daemonâs presence, and the arm he has around your shoulders.
He had not been wrong. This would cost you. A cost too steep for someone he sought to keep safe.
Still, you face it all bravely, as you had that morning at the docks. The two of you manage to get a cozy table in one tavern that Daemon had visited before. He calls for wine to be served, an expensive barrel from the Arbor he is sure they had kept around for years before anyone had the coin to buy it.
Itâs delicious. But when he serves you a goblet, you take a big sip and begin to splutter.
âMittys hunes iksÄ.â Daemon tuts. His silly bunny. âYou are not meant to drink it such. You ought to savor it.â
âSavor?â You arch an eyebrow. âTastes like dragonfire.â
And perhaps it's the choice of words, or the glint of your silver hair under the low light emanating from the torches, but something about you reminds him of the way he had loved Rhaenyra and admired Laena, the other Valyrian beauties in his life. They are not here, he cannot reach them. But you are.
âCome here, hunes.â His own voice sounds strange to him, low and demanding. When he calls you bunny, he is not exaggerating. Does the fox feel as wrong as he feels when becoming over his prey? Does his gums ache like Daemonâs do, with the urge to bite, to tear apart, to wound? Does he mourn the little bunny whose innocence he is about to shatter? âThere is something I wish to show you.â
You eye him warily, but get up from your chair and move until you are standing in front of him. It's not enough for Daemon. It never is. He always wants you closer, closer to hold, to protect, to own.
He tugs you between his parted legs.
âDo you trust me?â
There is a slight furrow of your brow. The barest hint of hesitation. Yet, your voice is firm when you answer him.
âYes.â
His girl. His precious girl. If you had been his, he would have never hurt you like Corlys had. Never allowed to become easy prey for men like him. You shouldnât trust him.
Daemon shouldnât be doing this, either. It is a good thing he has never claimed to be a good man.
He takes a sip of his wine, and leans towards you, capturing your mouth in his. At first, you fight him, the suddenness startling you. Itâs only when he gives your lower lip a sharp nip, that you melt into the kiss. When your mouth parts slightly, he passes you the wine.
You splutter, but Daemon holds you down, arms held by your side. He forces you to take and take some more, chasing the tart taste of the wine into the honeyed one of your mouth.
Your obedience and compliance only makes him wilder, drives him to grasp at your hips, pull you closer. Just when you begin to lean into Daemon, dutifully swallowing the wine, someone jerks you out of his grip.
âI did not think it to be true.â A womanâs voice, one he knows too well, says. Rhaenys. Her face is a mask of absolute rage. She gives you a shove that sends you stumbling before Daemon can even get out of his chair. âYou have much nerve.â
Your face turns ashen. You look like you are about to cry, or worse, flee. Daemon jumps up, and gets between Rhaenys and you.
âYou were always a whore!â She screams, her index finger digging into his chest. You let out a sob, quietly. Daemonâs heart feels like it is being wrenched from his chest. At this point, the screams have attracted all the tavern's attention. Daemon doesnât doubt that by this time tomorrow, the whole island will know.
You will be shunned. Just as he had feared.
âI am talking to you!â Rhaenys insists. You cower behind him. It only makes Rhaenys angrier. âNo, not you, you stupid girl. You, Daemon.â
Daemon feels utterly stunned. Never in a million years he would have thought Rhaenys was referring to him.
âAre you calling me a whore?â
He feels the slap before he even sees her move. His head gets forcefully turned to the side, and he hears you whimper. His cheek stings. Daemon has to blink back tears, Rhaenys has hit him that hard.
He wasnât even aware that a woman could land such a blow.
âYou dare! You toyed with my daughter and this girl as you saw fit.â And Daemon cannot even get a word in because she is too angry. He feels his cheeks reddening, and its unsure if he is feeling embarrassment at being scolded like a child, or rage at her words. âBut worry not. I will make this right.â
Rhaenys has a manic gleam in her eyes. For a frightening second, Daemon thinks he sees in her the famous Targaryen madness.
Instead of setting you both on fire, she lunges, avoiding Daemon, and grabbing you hands in hers.
âI shall not allow you to make the same mistake your mother did.â Rhaenys says, and she is gone before Daemon can answer anything.
THIS IS YOUR greatest triumph. Why, then, does it taste like ashes on your tongue?
You are wearing the finest dress you have ever owned, gifted to you by Daemon. Princess Rhaenys has forced both him and your father into complacency, and even forced King Viserys to allow your betrothal. Still, you feel adrift. Even betrayed.
What Daemon had done to you had seemed purposeful. You had not realized when he had stolen the kiss from you, giving you your first taste of fine wine, but you understood it now. Had Princess Rhaenys not been there, or had she been any less merciful, a much different fate would have awaited you.
The stink of shame that followed you around, the whispers of dishonor and the looks of distaste, would have been even more intense. You would have been ruined, known as little more than a whore. And your family no longer had the money that had shielded your mother during her pregnancies.
You had not known it. But Daemon must have. He had a reputation for taking maidenheads as he saw fit, Addam had informed you. You were a fool for not knowing, and a fool for believing he wanted something else from you.
The royal decree is read by a Maester, in front of all the Lords of near castles, the smallfolk of Driftmark and the Velaryons. Even in the first beautiful dress you own, you feel small. Out of place. The looks your half siblings are shooting you do not help you feel better.
Once the bill is read, Lord Corlys steps forward.
âDaughter.â He says, grasping your hands in his. He is cold. He is cold, and it makes your skin crawl, even when it is all you wanted as a little girl. Itâs the first time he acknowledges you, and he is not at all like the man you imagined, when dreaming as a child of what it would be like for him to look at you. Because even a glance would have been enough back then. âItâs a pleasure to finally have you join the family.â
Addam and Allyn are still in the crowd, unacknowledged. They are your family, not this man who is grasping your hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Wondering, as all highborn do, how he might use you. How you might serve to further his own ends.
Your brothers could not be recognized as you were. You had shyly asked Princess Rhaenys, and if she thought you dimwitted before, she had probably confirmed her suspicions. They were men, she had explained, and a threat to Laenorâs rights once your father passed. You, instead, were nothing but a girl who had sullied herself, whose honor had been compromised so thoroughly you had turned even less important in the great scheme of things.
She was helping you because you had been taken advantage of by Daemon, Princess Rhaenys had said, but also to spare her daughter from your fate. Wife to a husband that would most likely betray you and sire bastards.
Lord Corlys was just happy to have another pawn to marry off and forge alliances. Freeing his daughter from a disloyal husband was an added bonus.
Every time you heard them, your hands turned into fist, and you could barely fight the rage from clouding your expression. You had not done the thing everyone was accusing you of, and yet were being judged for it all the same. Daemon, too, did nothing to correct them. Not even when the most scandalous rumors surfaced, saying you would wed him with a child already in your belly.
You had not let him touch you like that. You were not as stupid as everyone thought. As a daughter to a single mother, you knew all about scorn and loneliness. You would never doom a child to your same fate.
The day doesnât pick up from there. The feast to follow feels just as empty, and you turn down an insincere offer from your father to be housed here. You cannot wait to run back to your brothers.
It would be impolite to leave so soon, though. Lord Corlys has thrown this feast in your honor and is making the lords and members of his household present you with gifts. You admit it is a clever strategy, to avoid having to spend money in your trousseau. Hence, you need to stay a little bit longer.
You get handed new quills and parchments, alongside a new seal for your correspondence by Laena.
âI figured you wouldnât have one of these.â Her smile is strained as she reaches for your hands. âSince you werenât raised the proper way.â It says a lot about the company you are in that it is the most polite greeting you receive all afternoon.
When it all begins to become a bit much, and your eyes are stinging after a lady said you had no grace and no manners, you decide you need to run. But when you are stepping a foot outside the hall, Daemon appears by your side.
âRather improper, isnât it?â He asks, grabbing your hand in his. You try to jerk away, but he merely interlaces your fingers together. âA lady cannot quite run around unescorted as you used to.â
âLeave me alone, Daemon.â You say, still trying to free yourself. The last thing you want today is to deal with him.
âI do not think I will.â Daemon cups your cheek in his hand, hands gentle despite the calluses on them. It was one of the things you had first liked about him. His hands were artisanâs hands, like the ones of your brothers, despite being highborn. He had seemed so different from the rest of the men you knew, back then. âNot when my betrothed is nearly weeping in her own feast.â
âYou heard all those people. I do not belong here.â You look up at him, fighting your tears. You feel like such a whiny child. What happened to you is something that only happens in fairytales, it's the stuff songs are written about. No bastard girl gets acknowledged by her father and marries a Prince.
âWho cares what those cunts think?â Daemon scoffs. âYou are above them. You always were.â
You bloom under his praise. There is no other word for it. It warms you, from head to toe, and your stomach fills with butterflies. A small smile forms, even through the tears that threaten to fall.
âThere she is.â Daemon brushes his thumb over your cheek. âThatâs my girl.â
His girl. There is nothing you would like more.
âI never wanted to be a Lady.â You lower your eyes, embarrassed at the admission. You feel ungrateful for saying it, but itâs the truth. You had never imagined a home away from your siblings. The marriage will mean you will be taken away from them, and only see them if Daemon feels like it.
You do not own a dragon, after all. And you arenât too sure Allyn and him will be the best good brothers.
He grabs you by the waist and gives a little tug.
âBe mine instead.â Daemon whispers, and when you nod, he kisses your forehead.
MARRYING YOU HAD never been in his plans. Yet, when he saw you walk down the aisle, dressed in Velaryon blue and looking awkward, Daemon was sure you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
You were not a lady or a princess, yet you and him were alike. Birds of the same feather. For the first time, Daemon could say there was someone who understood him.
Daemon had never been poor, nor had he been born a bastard, but he too, had lost his parents while young. He, too, was considered too wild by his brother. And he knew all about of trying to fulfill an impossible task while honoring the legacy of his ancestors.
Laena was a mere child by your side. Her innocence and Valyrian looks had appealed to him once, but after meeting you, Daemon knew no other woman could compare. There was an edge to you, beneath all the innocence and beauty. A fire that burned bright in your belly, and could not be quenched. An anger that both amazed him and scared him, and drew him in like a moth to a flame.
You would have been great if you had been born into his house. Great but terrible.
Or perhaps you wouldnât have. Perhaps, if you had grown acknowledged by your father, you would have not been the lost little girl who dreamed of recognition and slept lulled by the sea. You wouldnât have grown into the woman who got the recognition and understood she did not need it at all.
A shame that recognition had come at a price so steep. Recognition in exchange for rumors of dishonor, whispers of the shame of your existence and the shame you had brought on yourself. These cunts did not see you for what you were. Not some malicious creature, some silver tongued temptress. No. You were determined and fierce, brave and true. You honored your houseâs words. Your ancestors would have been proud.
Yes, Daemon decided. He would marry you and take you away from here, from this horrible little island where people behaved like they were above you. The cunts should be honored that you were even looking their way.
The distance might even help those stubborn brothers of yours to forget all about the way Daemon had become part of their family. When the grudge was forgotten, he would bring you back, less the eldest skewered him alive.
Not because Daemon feared Allyn. Of course not. But because killing him would be such a nuisance, and you would cry, and⊠Ugh. He couldnât stand to see you cry.
You were about to burst into tears right now. He could tell. Daemon grabbed your hands in his, uncaring he was breaking protocol, and pressed his forehead against yours.
âWe can still marry on the beach, with only Caraxes as witness.â He whispers, gently. âHells, I would prefer it. We can run still. The Septon has not spoken.â
You laugh, a bit watery.
âAddam and Allyn would drop dead, thinking we will not be wed.â
âAllyn looks like he would attempt murder.â
âAttempt?â
âI doubt he would succeed.â
âI would protect you.â You say, and it warms something inside Daemon he wasnât even aware that he had. âIf only because killing a Prince is a crime worthy of the ax, and I wish to have nephews.â
Daemon's mouth opens and closes.
âYou little..!â
You laugh, but before he can lunge and throw you over his shoulder, the Septon clears his throat.
âIf the two of you are done..?â
âJust get to the part where you handfast us.â Daemon says, giving him his best lecherous expression. âI have many things I wish to show my new bride.â
And there were. He had taken many of your firsts already, he wasnât about to stop now.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon tsrgaryen x you#daemon targaryen x y/n#daemon x reader#daemon x you#prince daemon x y/n#prince daemon x reader#prince daemon x you#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen fic#daemon targaryen x poc reader#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon targaryen x fem oc#daemon fluff#daemon fic#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen#hotd x reader#hotd fic#asoiaf/got#hotd fanfic#poc reader#hotd daemon#asoif
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Share - Ollie Bearman
Words: 1,155 Summary: Ollie just wants to cling to his girlfriend after being away from her for weeks. Their nephew has a different idea. Note(s): Slightly NSFW, Clingy Ollie, Set After Jeddah 2025 (ik ik), oh and this is inspired by the vids of guys coming home and wanting to kiss their wife only for their son to be like, no, thatâs my mom!
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Ollie lets out a sigh of relief as he closes the door to the apartment behind him.
He was finally home.
He knew he was going to be exhausted after his first ever triple header as a Formula 1 driver but then as if everything in 2024 hadnât been enough, more surprises and drama had cropped up just one race in and left him nearly scrambling for the final two.
But now he was home and would get to see his girlfriend after the last few grueling weeks.
âOllie?â
He smiles, âYeah, itâs me!â
Toeing off his shoes, he kicks them out of the way and steps out of the small entryway into the living room and the breath gets knocked out of him.
God, she was gorgeous.
He nearly runs to her, throwing himself onto the couch beside her and wrapping his arms around her.
âI missed you so much.â He mumbles.
Her fingers comb through his hair, âI missed you to bear.â
He pulls away a bit, lips already puckering up a bit when tiny hands are smacking against his side. He jerks away and then a small body is wiggling between him and his girlfriend, legs kicking at him.
âMine!â
âNoel!â
Ollie looks at the toddler in between them, surprised to see a glare on the normally happy three year old's face.
âHey buddy.â
He waits for the angry face to turn happy, for the exclamation of âUncle Ollieâ but it doesnât happen. Noel turns completely away from him, wrapping himself around her.
âWhat did I do?â
She gives him a sorry look, reaching out to hold his hand where conveniently Noel canât see. âHeâs decided that no one is allowed to touch me. He nearly screamed Joeâs ear off yesterday when Joe tried to hug me goodbye.â
âOof. Howâs Hil feeling about that?â
She rolls her eyes at the mention of Noelâs mom. âShe thinks it's great, which is why Iâve had him every day for the past week.â Seeing Ollieâs look, she nods. âYeah, Joe isnât happy about it. But they leave today and Joe is off for three days, so I will be off.â
âSo, Iâve got to share until bedtime?â
âNo share!â Noel chimes in and itâs cute, Ollie even gets it. He loves hugging his girlfriend, everyone and their mother calls him clingy, but he canât help but already feel tired of it and itâs barely been ten minutes.
He can share, he has shared his girlfriend's attention and affection, but he canât help but just want her full focus after three and a half weeks away. He hasnât even gotten a kiss yet and the thought makes him frown.
âNo cause papa is gonna be here early. I think I remember something about going out to eat and the park.â
Itâs funny to watch the way Noel seems both excited about it but also displeased, already knowing that his favorite and only aunt wonât be coming with.
âHey, Noel.â His voice is gentle and he pokes at his shoulder. âCould I get a hug from my favorite kid?â
He fully expects Noel to refuse with the way heâs managed to wiggle himself onto Y/Nâs lap, but he slowly moves off her lap and hugs him.
âHi buddy.â Ollie says, hugging him tight. âYou been having a fun time with Auntie?â
âMine.â
âI donât get to know what you guys have been up to? Have you played race car?â
Noelâs eyes light up and he shakes his head. âNo! I want to play!â
Ollie grins, easily standing up and picking him up. His neck aches a bit, but he ignores it as he puts Noel on his shoulders and begins to pace around the living room in laps.
Giggles fill the room and he canât help but smile, occasionally spinning or making a weird turn that makes Noel claps his hands together before asking him to go faster.
Itâs only when he starts to get dizzy that Ollie stops, moving him off his shoulders and holding him upside down.
âI hope he hasnât been like that long.â
âPapa!â Noel shouts and Ollie quickly rights him and puts him in Joeâs arms.
âOnly for a few minutes.â Ollie jokes.
Joe shakes his head with a laugh. âWell, as long as it was only a few minutes.â He looks over at Y/N. âHow was he?â
âGood, like always. Still clingy though. He told Ollie that I was his.â
Joe has to stifle a laugh, well aware that Ollie had probably hated that.
âI got to hug her for I think five seconds.â
âBetter than me, I got to for maybe a second yesterday before nearly losing an eardrum.â
Ollie sucks in a breath through his teeth. âTough luck, mate.â
âVery. Alright, bud say goodbye to Uncle Ollie and Aunt Y/N.â
Noel pouts a little and extends his arms out towards Y/N who is now standing.
âGoodbye Auntie.â
She hugs him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. âBye Noel. Iâll see you in a few weeks.â
âBye buddy.â
âBye, Uncle Ollie.â
As soon as the door shuts, Ollie whirls around and is tugging her close, their lips pressing together.
Itâs a frantic kiss, desperate, and Ollie canât help the way his hands slip under her shirt, pressing her closer as his fingers dig into her bare skin.
It doesnât stay a kiss for long. Clothes fall onto the floor and they barely manage to make it to the bedroom, the bed only a few steps away, but they end up on the floor, bodies pressed as close as they can get.
âFuck, Ollie.â She breathes later, laying on top of him.
He lets out a breathless laugh, kissing her sweaty brow. âI told you I missed you.â
âYou fucked me twice. Thereâs missing me and then thereâs that.â
âIs it bad I want to go again after dinner?â
âIf you donât go again after dinner, you're sleeping on the couch.â
He grins, pressing another kiss to her skin. âFantastic.â
His fingers trace shapes along her back as they both slowly get their breath back, hearts slowing to a better beat.
âYâknow,â She breaks the silence after a few moments. âYouâre going to have to share me.â
âI do share you. I just did with Noel.â
She laughs, kissing his chest. âYes, and Iâm so proud of my clingy bear. But I mean, if we ever have kids and we have a boy. Heâll probably be just like you.â
Ollie feels his heart speed up at the idea of them having kids. He can see it in a few years after theyâve been married and are in a house. âJust like me?â
âYeah, loves me to bits and never wants to be away from me. Your smile, hair, love for racing. Just a mini Ollie.â
âI guess if itâs our kids, I can learn to share you.â
#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman imagine#f2 x reader#f1 x reader#f2 imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 2 x reader#formula 2 imagine#formula 1 imagine#ollie is in a weird spot of having drove in 3 f1 races and having an f1 seat next year but still being an f2 driver#so he gets all the tags#sins fics
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Hot Coco + Movie âïž â could i get a dark!reader and dark!rafe where rafe doesnât even know the girl heâs into shares some of the same kinks until he actually tries it on her? đ€đ©· (stalking, mask kink, chasing, knife/blood play, masochism/sadism) *rafe and reader arenât together but rafe is obsessed with her not knowing she is also obsessed with him and possibly darker than he is) sorry if that didnât make sense and if itâs too muchđđ€đŒ
babeeee your request is so yummyđ€€ itâs never too much, i love this and i love you!đ€
CW: smut! 18+ only! dark!rafe x dark!reader, mutual obsession, stalking (rafe follows reader in this + she admits to stalking him), slight knife play, blood play, choking, piv sex, strong language, praise and degrading. rafeâs pov.
5k blurbs/moodboards m.list
Rafe.
the nighttime air was cool, an occasional gust of wind slapping against my face with every step i took. it was a little past midnight, and i should be home, in bed getting rest for a day of working with my dad tomorrow. but when i peered out my window and saw her sneaking out the side door of her house, i had to follow.
i look up for a moment, placing my eyes back on her, the only girl worth getting out and walking aimlessly around the streets of the cut for. where the fuck is she going? weâve been walking for close to an hour now. not that i should care, sheâs not even mine. but she will be, she just doesnât know it yet.
lowering my head, i place my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, my fingers lightly grazing over the handle of my knife. my cock jerks in my sweatpants at the thought of pressing the blade against her neck, my lips claiming hers for the first time, forcing her to realize sheâs mine and always has been.
i lift my head again, wanting to have my eyes on her perfect ass, but when i look up, sheâs gone. what the fuck? where did she go? she was just-
my thoughts die out, the feeling of a sharp object pressed into my back making me straighten my spine, muscles tense and jaw clenched. i swear to fucking god, these pogues are somethinâ else.
chuckling, i pull my hands from my hoodie pocket and raise them slowly, âlook, you might as well just fuckinâ kill me, because i ainât giv-â
ârafe cameron. why the fuck are you following me?â
the sweet sound of her voice has my muscles relaxing. i lower my hands to my side, slowly turning to face her. the moment my eyes lock with hers, heat floods my veins, my cock jerking and thickening in my sweatpants. sheâs a fucking goddess, and the way sheâs tightly gripping her own knife, pressing it into my chest? fuck me. the full moon illuminates her features beautifully, making her eyes sparkle more than they do in the sunlight.
âjust makinâ sure a pretty girl like you is safe. i mean, sânot safe on these streets late at night, never know whoâs watchinâ you or planning on grabbing you and using you.â
her eyes narrow into slits, her head cocking to the side just the slightest. she lets out a laugh, the sound going straight to my aching dick.
âoh, rafe, trust me when i say⊠i can take care of my fucking self,â she pauses, pulling the blade from my chest and taking a step back from me. âtell me the real fuckinâ reason youâre following me.â
i donât speak, instead i study every inch of her face. my eyes run down from the top of her head, over her eyes, nose and end on her perfect lips. sheâs such a fucking sight, one i wish i could hide away and keep for myself only. no one else deserves to see her fucking beauty, no one else is fucking good enough to see her face, her body, any of it. sheâs mine.
i step toward her and she lifts her knife again. i chuckle at the action, my hands reaching out to grip her wrist. the knife falls from her hand, the sound of it clanking against the ground echoing through the otherwise quite air. she gasps, my hand tightening around her small wrists and yanking her into me. i run my free hand down the side of her face, pulling the most beautiful fucking whimper from her lips. she surprises me when she melts into my touch, leaning her face into my hand that rests on her cheek.
âoh, princess, that is the real reason⊠well, that and the fact that i plan on fucking you tonight,â she gasps, her eyes meeting mine. something dark flashes across her features, just for a second and then itâs gone, but it was there. âdid you know⊠that iâve been fuckinâ obsessed with you since the moment i saw you?â
a grin slowly spreads across her lips, the sight making my chest tighten. âyeah?â she pauses, taking advantage of my being distracted by her to rip herself from my hold, bending down to grab her knife and pressing it back into my chest, âwhat if i said⊠iâve also been obsessed with you? what if i said⊠iâm responsible for all the bitches you touch ending up hurt? what if i said⊠iâve watched you every day for the last two years? not a single move you make has gone unnoticed by meâŠâ
sexual tension wraps itself around us, squeezing us so tightly i feel like i canât breathe. fuck, this girl drives me fuckinâ crazy⊠i step farther into her, the sharp point of her knife pressing further into my chest when i do. i place a hand behind her head, my fingers wrapping around the strands and pulling, yanking her neck into an awkward position, forcing those fuck-me eyes of hers on mine.
âoh? are you trying to fuckinâ turn me on?â i walk us backward until her back is pressed against a worn brick wall, she gasps, the hold on her knife loosening in her hold when i press my hips into her, letting her feel how fucking hard i am for her. âbecause itâs working⊠you feel that? thatâs what you do to me, pretty girl.â
a moan slips from her lips and send a jolt of pleasure straight to my throbbing cock. i slap her hand from my chest, her knife clattering onto the ground below again. my eyes dart across her face, dropping down to her pouty lips and then need to kiss her, claim her, takes over.
i dip my head down, claiming her lips with mine in a heated and hungry kiss. she melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping, her legs wrapping around my waist. i force my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers. the taste of her mouth on my tongue has my cock throbbing, a bead of precum leaking from my tip. i have to be inside her, now.
i break my lips from hers, âyou drive me so goddamn crazy. i need to be inside this sweet fucking pussy, now.â
she smirks, her eyes dark as she opens her mouth to speak. âi know a place, letâs go.â
she unwraps her legs from around me, allowing me to gently place her on her feet. sheâs grasping my hand in hers, quickly grabbing her knife off the ground, closing it and shoving it into her back pocket before sheâs dragging me across the empty streets. we reach a small, abandoned looking house within a few minutes, and my brow furrows when she begins digging into her pocket, pulling out a key and slipping it into the lock on the door.
once she gets it unlocked and open, she yanks me inside, slamming it shut behind her.
âwhat is this place?â i ask, my eyes taking in the dark, musty space. itâs pretty cleaned up inside, the floors are kinda rotting and the pain on the walls are chipped, but besides that, itâs not too bad.
she walks me toward a cream colored leather couch, pushing me down onto it and straddling my lap, arms around my neck as she presses her lips against mine again, grinding her clothed pussy against my dick.
âthis place, is my little sanctuary. itâs where i come to escape the lavish life you and i both live. itâs also where i bring the girls who think they can talk to you and not be punished for it.â
my eyes widen at the last words, but my cock also throbs. does she really fuckinâ bring the girls i talk to here? what does she do to them? i have so many questions, but theyâre all minuscule compared to whatâs right in front of me. her lips trail down my jaw and to my neck, her teeth nipping at my skin as she continues to roll her hips against mine.
âfuck, baby. keep that up and i just might cum right now.â i rasp, my hands curling around her waist, pushing her further into me.
she grins, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. i watch with lust-filled eyes as she removes her arms from around my neck, removing her sweatshirt and tossing it to the floor. i suck in a sharp breath, her perfect tits in my face, hard nipples begging to be sucked on, bitten.
i remove one hand from around her waist, cupping her tit in my hand and squeezing. âfuck, theyâre more perfect than i imagined theyâd be.â
she moans, her tongue darting out to lick up the side of my neck, sending a shudder rushing through me. i massage her breast in my palm, toying with her hard nipple before dipping my head down, sucking her other nipple into my mouth. my teeth sink into the hard flesh, making her whimper and tremble in my lap.
ârafe, stop being such a fucking tease and fuck me.â she demands. i release her nipple with a pop, blowing cool air onto the bud and watching as she shakes.
âso fucking demanding.. i donât really think youâre in a position to make demands, do you?â
she laughs, but it holds no humor. sheâs off my lap in a flash, pulling her knife from her back pocket and flipping it open. i go to stand, but before i can even move a muscle, she has the blade pressed against my throat, something dark coasting across her face as she does. my cock jerks and i lean myself into her, allowing the blade to lightly knick my skin, a small pool of blood trailing down my throat.
âdidnât i tell you? this shit fucking turns me on,â i pause, gripping her wrist in my hand and knocking the blade from her grip. i quickly grab it, placing her own knife against her throat, ânow, lick it fucking clean.â
her eyes meet mine, her pupils blown, making her eyes look black from how big they are. she leans in, allowing the blade to lightly knick her own skin before she sticks out her tongue, slowly licking up the trail of blood from my collar bone and up to my jaw. fuck. this girl is going to be my downfall. but i donât fucking care. sheâs mine, and iâm hers.
she wraps her lips around the sensitive flesh of my neck, right where her knife knicked, and she starts sucking, not pulling back until sheâs cleaned every last drop of blood and a dark, purple bruise is left. i pull the knife from her neck, letting it drop to the floor and copying her actions. once satisfied with my mark, i claim her lips again, our tongues swirling together, the taste of our blood mixed together making the need for her cloud my mind.
not breaking her lips from mine, she runs her hands down my sides, her fingertips reaching the waistband of my sweats. she digs her fingers into the grey fabric, tugging lightly. i take the hint, lifting myself off the couch, keeping her in place with my hands beneath her ass. her arms go around my neck, and i remove one hand from her ass, pulling my sweats down my legs and allowing my painfully hard cock to spring free. i work at her leggings next, pulling at the fabric so hard it tears from her body. she gasps against my lips, her eyes landing on mine with a âwhat the fuckâ look on her face.
ârafe! i have nothing else to wear when we leave here!â
âdonât worry, baby. iâll let you wear my hoodie. youâre coming home with me after this anyways.â
she rolls her eyes, slapping her hand against my chest in a playful manner. i slowly place her feet back on the ground, pulling my hoodie up and over my head, tossing it to the ground. her hands fly to my chest, perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin and dragging down.
âgoddamn.â i rasp, hissing in a breath from the sting of her pointy nails breaking skin.
she pushes me back into the couch, climbing into my lap, straddling me. she grinds her wet pussy against my length, moaning as she does. she slightly lifts her hips, gripping my cock in one hand and pumping me slowly, making me groan from how fucking good it feels. she lines my swollen head up with her entrance, pressing the tip into her but i quickly stop her, realizing i donât have a condom.
âwait, i donât have a-â
she slaps her palm against my face, cutting off my words as she sinks herself down on my cock, filling her pussy to the hilt.
she leans forward, her lips ghosting across mine as she whispers, âi donât fucking care.â
my eyes roll to the back of my head, a low groan falling from me when she begins rolling her hips. she feels so fucking good, so wet and tight. her pussy walls squeeze against my dick, making it twitch with need.
i grip her wrist, pulling it from my mouth and twisting it behind her back, âsuch a filthy fucking slut, arenât you? just had to have me raw, yeah?â i buck my hips upward and she moans, her head falling into the crook of my neck. âgod, i bet you fucking get yourself off to the thought of this, huh? my cock buried deep inside this sweet fucking cunt, my cum painting your walls white and leaking down your thighs when iâm done. my perfect fucking slut, arenât you baby?â
she pills her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to stifle her moans, but iâm not having that. i want to fucking hear her scream for me. i press my thumb on her lower lip, pulling it from between her teeth, âno baby, i wanna fucking hear you. let me hear how good iâm making you feel.â
i grip both her hips, halting her movements. her eyes find mine, and i give her a smirk before i begin thrusting my hips, pounding into her greedy hole like my fucking life depends on itâ and at this point, it just might. her moans fill the room, cries of pleasure falling past her lips.
her pussy squeezes around my dick, trying to milk my cock dry. i pull her off me, tossing her onto her back on the couch. her tits bounce from the force and i canât contain the groan that escapes me. i grip her upper arm, flipping her onto her stomach and slapping her ass, hard. she whines, burying her face into the leather cushions. i slip my hands under her body, lifting her hips so her ass is in the air. my mouth waters from the sight of her glistening cunt, her arousal slowly leaking down her thighs. i grip myself, jerking a few times before slamming myself back into her.
she digs her nails into the couch, screaming out my name when i hit the deepest part of her pussy repeatedly, loving the way her walls contract around me when i do. i lean over her back, wrapping my bicep around her throat and pulling her back flush into my front. i squeeze, taking away her air as i continue to pound my cock inside her.
my dick swells, my thrusts becoming sloppy as she starts to come undone around me. weâll have to work on that, sheâll only ever be allowed to cum when i tell her she can.
âthatâs it, baby. such a good fucking girl, coming all over my cock like the little cock slut you are.â
she tries to speak, but my bicep wrapped tightly around her throat only allows unintelligible sounds out. her body shakes in my hold, and i bury my face in her neck, my teeth biting down hard just as my balls draw tight. i push myself deep inside her one final time, holding myself there as long, slow spurts of my cum fill her cunt.
her nails dig into my forearm, begging me to loosen my hold on her. i finally do, allowing her to fall forward and suck in sharp gasps of air. i slip my softening dick from inside her, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. she whimpers, and i dig my fingers into her hair, lifting her head back up off the couch. i force her neck sideways, placing my lips against hers in a searing kiss. when i finally pull myself from her, i run my nose up the side of her cheek, inhaling her intoxicating scent. my lips ghost across her ear, making her shudder.
âyouâre mine now, you got it?â i rasp, nipping at the lobe of her ear.
she chuckles, the sound shooting straight to my dick again.
âand youâre mine, rafe cameron. donât you fucking forget it. i will kill you if you think you can leave me, and iâll kill anyone else who thinks she even has a chance.â
tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @rafeyscurtainbangs @cherrygirlfriend @redhead1180 @jjsbaby @nemesyaaa
#kayâs 5k cellyđ#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#dark!rafe cameron#dark!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x dark!reader#dark!rafe smut#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#obx smut#rafe outer banks#rafe obx
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â° ïč (sorta) long awaited PART 2 to this DEAN BLURB. đâđ©
i'm shit at writing a second part to any standalone FICS or BLURBS so i'm rlly sorry if this isn't the 'makeup sex' type blurb yall were lookin' for <3
âŻâŻ warning(s) smut | emotional vulnerability | strong language | semi-public sex | rough sex | praise kink | dirty talk (yum) | jealousy | overstimulation | POSSESSIVE!DEAN | power dynamics | mirror sex. à°ïž EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.
the bar is loud, filled with the familiar hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. you sit at a table near the back, surrounded by a few of your close friendsâhunters like you, women who know the life, know the dangers, and are just as good at blowing off steam after a successful hunt. tonight, the drinks flow easily, and the laughter comes even easier. it's rare to get a reprieve like this, to have a night off where you can just relax and enjoy yourself. you deserve it. you know you do.
but even as your friends trade stories and jokes, your mind keeps drifting. keeps circling back to him. DEAN WINCHESTER. it's been weeks since you left him in that motel room, since you walked away without an explanation, with only a hastily written note. you haven't spoken to him since, haven't called, haven't reached out. not because you didn't want to. GOD, you wanted to. but fear held you back. fear of what he felt, of what you felt, of how everything had changed with those three words he'd let slip between gasps of pleasure.
i love you.
you still hear his voice in your head, still feel the way his body had tensed beneath you when he realized what he'd said. you'd thought about calling him a hundred times, a thousand times actually, to tell him you felt the same. that the reason you ran was because you were scaredâscared of how much you loved him, how deeply you'd fallen without even realizing it. but every time you picked up the phone, you hesitated, and the moment passed.
now, sitting in this bar, surrounded by friends, you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake. if walking away from him was the worst decision you could've made. but before you can spiral any further, you hear itâa laugh. a deep, familiar laugh that sends a shock of recognition through your entire body.
you freeze, your drink halfway to your lips, as you turn your head and see him. DEAN WINCHESTER. standing at the entrance of the bar, his brother, sam, by his side. dean doesn't see you at first, too busy scanning the room, probably taking in the scene out of habit, always the hunter, always alert. but then his eyes snap to yours.
it feels like the air is sucked from the room. your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, you can't move, can't breathe. he looks just like you rememberâbroad shoulders, brown leather jacket, that chiseled jawline you've traced with your fingers more times than you can count. but there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unresolved, and you know he's thinking about that night, about the last time you saw each other.
he doesn't move. neither do you.
but his gaze lingers on you, even as a blonde woman sidles up to him, clearly trying to get his attention. she's prettyâtall, curvy, the kind of woman who turns heads in a place like this. but dean barely spares her a glance, his eyes locked on you like he can't tear himself away. you feel a surge of something hot and uncomfortable twist in your chestâjealousy, anger, desire. god, you miss him. you miss him so much it hurts.
and it's not just him. it's the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his hands felt on your skin, rough and gentle all at once. the way he'd held you that night, the way he'd said he loved you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like he couldnât help it.
you tear your gaze away, pretending to focus on the conversation at your table, but your mind is spinning. your body is buzzing with the awareness of him, of how close he is, of how much you want him. but the thought of facing him, of having that conversation, of admitting how you feel... it terrifies you.
so you do the only thing you can think of. you excuse yourself, telling your friends you need to use the bathroom, and slip away from the table, weaving through the crowded bar until you reach the small, dingy restroom at the back. you close the door behind you, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror.
your heart is racing, your skin flushed, and all you can think about is dean. about the way his muscles flexed under that leather jacket, the way he looked at you like he was starving for you. heat pools low in your belly, and filthy thoughts flood your mindâthoughts of him pressing you against the mirror, fucking you from behind until you're a mess, just like he did that night in the motel.
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's no use. your body wants him. you want him.
and then the door creaks open.
your eyes snap open, and you see himâdean, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with that same hunger you feel. he steps inside, closing the door behind him, locking it with a click. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't move, can't speak, as he crosses the small space between you, his body heat radiating off him in waves.
he doesn't say a word. he doesn't have to.
his hands are on you in an instant, rough and desperate, pulling at your clothes, as you do the same to him. his leather jacket hits the floor, followed by your shirt, your jeans, his belt clinking as he yanks it free. his breath is hot against your neck, and he's whispering in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.
"you're such a bad girl for leaving me like that," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. "but god, y'feel so fucking good... s'perfect."
his words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as he spins you around, pressing you against the mirror. your breath fogs the glass as his hands grip your hips, his body pressing against yours from behind. he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that makes your knees buckle, but his strong arms hold you steady, keep you grounded.
you're a mess beneath him, a blubbering, trembling mess as he fucks you hard and fast, his hips pistoning into yours with a desperation that matches your own. he's everywhere, all at onceâhis hands, his mouth, his body consuming you, and you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.
"you're mine,â he growls, his voice rough and possessive in your ear. "you've always been mine."
and it's true. you know it's true. you've always been his.
you lose track of time, of how many times you come, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your body shaking with the force of it. by the time he finally pulls out of you, you're spent, your legs trembling, your breath ragged. but dean takes care of you, cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he helps you back into your clothes, his touch gentle and tender, so different from the roughness of moments ago.
when you're both dressed, you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and without thinking, you pull him into a kiss. it's not like the othersâit's not fueled by lust or desperation. this kiss is soft, slow, full of something deeper, something you've been too afraid to admit 'til now.
when you finally pull away, dean looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "what was that for?" he asks, his voice quiet, vulnerable.
you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "i love you," you admit, the words catching in your throat. "and i'm sorry for leaving you like that. i was scared. but, fuck⊠i love you too, dean. i always have."
the smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise, brilliant and beautiful. he pulls you close again, pressing his body into yours. "yeah?"
"yeah," you whisper back. "turns out you're kind of hard to resist, winchester."
he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where you're pressed against him. "good thing i'm not trying to resist you anymore either, sweetheart."
when you eventually make your way back to the bar, sam takes one look at your slightly disheveled appearance and dean's stupid grin and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. your friends are also giving you knowing looks, and the blonde from earlier has long since found another target.
none of that matters, because dean's hand finds yours again, and this time, neither of you are running anywhere. he also pulls you close to him again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a promise of something more.
something real.
êŁà§ UNOFFICIAL TAGLIST. @anqeliclust @aileenunfiltered @embarrasingmf @stereotypicalbarbie @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @ohheyguyss @spxideyver @artyandink @titsout4nicholas đ Ę đŠč
#êŁà§ writings.#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x fem reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester blurb#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean imagine#dean smut#dean winchester angst#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester imagine#dean x you#dean angst#dean fluff#supernatural#supernatural x female reader#supernatural smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#jackles
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Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16
Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! đ I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fanđ€just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuffđ„č"
AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!
Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!
Charles insta stories over the fall break
Twitter
Charles instagram
Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others
charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser
user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there
user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!
youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!
user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam
user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!
carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?
user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!
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Your insta story
user12 how does it feel to be living my dream
carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him
youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him
user13 his eyes
charlesleclerc that's one lucky man
youruser he really is!
user14 I love the way you guys love each other
landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together
youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive
Twitter
your Instagram
Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others
youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!
Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!
charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise
user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me
charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N
landonorris Can I also know the surprise
charlesleclerc NO!
user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST
user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha
user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.
Your Insta Story
charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!
user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!
user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!
landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!
youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee
user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing
Twitter
Charles Insta story during the show
Max's Insta story during the show
Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!
maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again
Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)
#formula 1#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#CL16 SMAU#Charles leclerc smau#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula one smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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đ«đ»đžđŽđźđ· đčđČđźđŹđźđŒ
â desc: months after divorcing your ex-husband, you must both be on your best behavior for your daughter's birthday party. will seeing each other again bring up old feelings that you tried so hard to bury?
â ft: ex-husband!geto
â word count & a/n: 3.8k | this has been in my wips forever and im so happy to finally get this out, i hope you all enjoy reading <3
â includes: angst, cunnilingus, edging, missionary, praise, smug geto
The sound of childrenâs laughter filled the air, blending in with the bass of the party music. The backyard was completely decorated with balloons and streamers, colors representing your daughterâs favorites. As much as you adore your little girl, you can confidently say that youâve been dreading this day. Not the celebration part of course, but the person that you would be forced to run into.Â
Glancing around the yard, you feel your heart skip for a second as you spotted himâSuguru. He had a huge smile on his face, crouching down to give his daughter a kiss on her forehead. You could tell how happy she is to see him, watching her jump up and down at the excitement of just seeing her father. Even now, after everything thatâs happened, he was still undeniably him. The quiet confidence and the beaming smile. It was frustrating how attractive he still was, especially considering how youâve spent the last year trying to forget it.Â
His gaze flickers to yours, catching you staring. He held your eyes in his, something unreadable flickering across his face before he turned back to your daughter. You break eye-contact at the same time, your fingers tightening around your drink. It was the first time that youâve both been in the same space for more than five minutes since the divorce, the tension between you bubbling up.
âMommy!â your daughterâs voice broke your trance, and you turned to see her running toward you, her tiny hands clutching box. âDaddy said that you can help me open this!â
You smiled, but your chest tightened as Suguru approached behind her, his presence looming larger than life. For her sake, you kept the smile on your face, even as your pulse quickened with every step he took.
âOf course, birthday girl,â you said, setting your drink down to take the wrapped box from her hands. You knelt down to her level, plastering on your best smile, even as you felt Suguruâs presence settle beside you.
âHere,â Suguru said, his voice low as he handed you a pair of scissors from the nearby table. You flinched slightly at how close heâd gotten, his arm brushing yours as he crouched beside you. You hated how good that one second of touch felt.Â
âThanks,â you muttered, avoiding his gaze as you carefully opened her gift.
Your daughter squealed with delight as you revealed a plush animal inside, her little hands grabbing it before you could fully pull it out. She hugged it tightly, looking up at both of you with a beaming smile.
âI love it daddy, youâre the best!â she declared, skipping off to show her friends.
Left alone, you stood up quickly, awkwardly brushing imaginary dust from your hands. Suguru rose too, his movements slower, more deliberate.
âYou didnât have to get that,â you said, your tone abrupt.
âShe wanted it,â he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes were on you, and for a moment, you felt pinned under the weight of his gaze, unable to escape.
You opened your mouth to respond, but a group of kids ran between you, cutting off whatever sharp remark you were about to make. Suguru chuckled softly, the sound pulling your focus back to him.
âSheâs happy,â he said, nodding toward your daughter, who was now showing off her new toy. âThatâs all that matters, right?â He tilted his head at you, his face unreadable.
You hated how easily he could shift the conversation, deflecting any tension with his calm demeanor. You hated even more how your chest tightened at the sight of him being so effortlessly good with her.
âRight,â you said, your voice quieter than you intended.
The rest of the party passed in a blur of small talk, laughter, and the occasional shared glance that lingered a second too long. You tried to avoid him as much as possible, but Suguru seemed to always be nearbyâhelping you cut the cake, handing out goodie bags, and playing games with your daughter.
It was infuriating how natural he made it all look, like he hadnât made the choice to leave this life behind. Like he hadnât left you.
By the time the party wound down and the last of the guests had said their goodbyes, the house was quiet again, like it usually is with just you and your daughter. She was upstairs, tucked into bed after an exhausting but joy-filled day with her family and friends. You stood in the kitchen, trying to clean up the remnants of the cake, when you felt him enter the room.
âYou donât have to stay, I can clean up on my ownâ you said without turning around.
âI know,â Suguru said, his voice soft but steady. He grabs a garbage bag and begins to help you out anyways, taking down some balloons and other decorations. âYou look good today.â
You turned to face him, your hands clutching a dishrag. âWhy are you even here?â
His dark eyes met yours, and for the first time in this entire day, the mask heâd been wearing began to crack. There was something raw in his gazeâregret, longing, something you didnât want to name, fearing that you would only begin to crack too.Â
âBecause I canât keep pretending,â he said, taking a step closer. âNot after today. Not after seeing you like this.â
âSeeing me like what?,â you throw the rag down, completely exasperated. âSeeing me continue to be a good mom despite all of the shit you put me through? Seeing how happy she still is, despite the fact that you donât make the effort?âÂ
Suguru flinched at your words, his expression tightening. He looked down for a moment, his jaw clenching before he met your eyes again, the softness in them now sharpened by frustration.
âThatâs not fair,â he said quietly, but there was a weight to his voice that made you pause. âYou donât think that I care? As if it doesnât kill me to be apart from you both?â
âYou left, Suguru!â Your voice cracked, the emotions youâd been bottling up all day finally breaking free. âYou decided this wasnât what you wanted anymore. You donât get to stand there and act like youâre the one hurting, you werenât fair to us the moment you walked out that door for good.â
He took another step closer, the distance between you shrinking as the tension swirled like a storm between you both. âYou think this was easy for me?â His voice was low, but there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back. âI made mistakes, I know that. But donât for a second think I stopped loving her, or stopped loving you.â
Your breath hitched, his words hitting you like a brick. âDonât,â you whispered, shaking your head. âDonât say things like that just because you feel guilty. How could you stand there and say that, after everything?â
âItâs not guilt,â he said firmly, his hand twitching at his side, longing to reach for you but knowing that he shouldnât. âItâs the truth.â
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The room felt too small, the air too thick, and the weight of everything unsaid between you threatened to crush you both.
âThen why did you leave?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Suguru sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident all over his face. âBecause I thought it was the right thing to do. For you, for her, for everyone. But I was wrong. I just wish that I realized that before...â
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Your hands were trembling, and you didnât know if it was from anger, sadness, or the way he was looking at you nowâlike he was desperate, like he was afraid you might slip away for good. At this point, you didnât even know what you truly wanted.
âDonât do this,â you said, your voice trembling. âDonât make me feel like this again.â
âIâm not trying to hurt you,â he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. âI just... I need you to know that I still love you. That I never stopped. And todayâseeing you, seeing herâit made me realize how much I want this back.â He was so close to you at this point, his face mere inches away from your own. His hand reluctantly reached for your chin, and you allowed him to tilt your head up to fully face him. His words began to sink in, tugging at your heart. Before you could even wrap your head around it, he speaks up again.
âPlease,â he whispered, his voice barely audible. âTell me I havenât lost you completely.â
Your breath hitched, the room closing in around you as the weight of his confession hung in the air. Your head is telling you to take a step back and let him go for good. Nevertheless, the choice was yours nowâto let the past consume you both, or to take the first step toward something neither of you could fully let go of.
Wordlessly, you closed the small distance between you, your hand reaching up to grip the front of his shirt. The fabric bunched beneath your fingers as you looked up at him, the storm of emotions in your chest threatening to spill over, just like the tears filling your lash line.
Suguru froze, his breath catching as his eyes searched yours for a sign, any indication of what you were about to do.
âYou donât get to do this to me,â you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. âYou donât get to walk back in and say things like thatâmake me feel like this again.â
âI know,â he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested against his chest. âBut I canât pretend anymore. Not when I stillââ
You didnât let him finish, some part of you doesnât think that youâd be able to handle what he was going to say next. Before he could say anything else, you pulled him down, capturing his lips with yours. It was a kiss full of longing with a faint sign of anger, and Suguru responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as if he was afraid you might slip away if he let go again.
The kiss deepened, months of hurt and unspoken feelings pouring out between you. His hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, the familiar feeling softening your heart as the walls you built around it began to crumble. When you finally pulled back, breathless and shaken, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed as if he was afraid that you wouldnât be there when he opened them.
âTell me you donât feel it too,â he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. âAnd Iâll walk away. Iâll let you go.â
Your grip on his shirt tightened, your body betraying the answer your mind hadnât fully caught up to yet. âI hate you for making me feel this way,â you said, your voice cracking. âBut I canât lie to you. I stillââ
Suguruâs lips were on yours again before you could finish, cutting off your words with a kiss that left no room for doubt. Whatever you had both tried to bury between you was rising to the surface now, unstoppable and undeniable. There was no question how you felt about one another, and you both made it your mission to prove it.
His hands began to explore your body, feeling hot to the touch as they rested beneath your thighs. He lifts you up as you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively. He pulls away to chuckle against your lips.
âYou always know exactly what I want you to do, huh?â Suguru teased, his voice a low murmur as he carried you effortlessly toward the once-shared bedroom. His smirk sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of frustration and desire building in your chest.
âDonât flatter yourself,â you shot back, though the breathless edge to your voice betrayed you.
He laughed softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed his lips to the column of your neck. âOh, Iâm not. But I remember how you used to look at me like this⊠how youâd crave it when I took control.â
You bit back a retort as he kicked the bedroom door open with ease, the familiar space pulling memories youâd worked so hard to suppress back into focus. He set you down on the edge of the bed, his hands firm but gentle as you laid back, his body moving to hover over yours.
His eyes found yours, darker than you remembered, the heat in his gaze setting your nerves off. âTell me to stop,â he whispered, his hands sliding up just enough to make your breath hitch, his fingers hooking underneath the waistband of your pants. âAnd I will.â
Instead of answering, you pulled him down, crashing your lips against his again. It was messy and heated as his weight pressed you back against the mattress. His hands were everywhere, exploring like he was trying to memorize every inch of you all over again, and you let him.
âGod, I missed this,â he muttered against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone before his lips soothed the spot with a kiss. âMissed you.â
The confession made your heart clench, but there was no time to linger on it. Not when his hands were slipping beneath your shirt, his touch electrifying as he pushed the fabric up and over your head.
âProve it,â you challenged, your voice steady despite the way your body trembled under his touch. You made quick work of his belt, tugging on his waistband as best as you could.
Suguruâs lips curved into a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with determination. âOh, I will,â he promised, his voice dripping with certainty. He helped you completely take off his pants before he slipped off yours, his knees hitting the carpet of your room so that he was eye-level with your cunt. Only one thin piece of fabric was left between him and you, his intense gaze making you want to run away and hide. He wouldnât let you though, hands gripping your thighs to keep them from closing.
âDonât hide from me, beautiful,â he finally pulls the fabric completely off, kissing up the side of your thighs. His thumbs pull your folds apart, a groan leaving his lips at the sight of you. âLet me show you how much you mean to me.â He wastes no time, his tongue poking out to prod at your slick folds. Your fingers dug into his hair, locking onto the dark strands as you used what little strength you had to tug. He continues on, stroking firmly at your clit, looking up at you to watch your face contorted in pleasure. He loves making you feel good, he craves your moans and soft gasps as the overwhelming feeling of his tongue washes over your body.Â
âGod, you taste even better than what I remembered, baby,â you gushed around his tongue, not being able to respond as your brain fogged over. âWhatâs the matter sweetheart, canât even respond to me anymore?â He loved pissing you off, even in a moment like this. You want so badly to respond to him and wipe that stupid smirk off of his face. Before you could do that, he slips two fingers inside, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit as he begins to steadily move them inside of you.Â
The combination of his tongue and fingers was too much, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. His fingers worked inside you with deliberate precision, curling just right to press against that spot that made your breath hitch every time.
âLook at you,â he rasped against your clit, his breath hot and teasing. âSo perfect for me. Taking everything I give you like you were made for it.â His voice was laced with pride, the smugness in his tone only making your desire burn hotter.
Your grip on his hair tightened, a feeble attempt to pull him closer or maybe to anchor yourself as your body threatened to unravel. He chuckled, low and rough, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.
âSuguru,â you finally managed to gasp out, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.
âThatâs it,â he encouraged, his free hand sliding up to grip your hip, holding you steady as you squirmed under his touch. âSay my name, princess. Let me hear you.â
Every word, every flick of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs quivered around his head, the heat coiling in your belly threatening to snap. He could feel it, too, the way your body clenched around his fingers, your breaths coming quicker, more erratic. Before you could reach your peak, he abruptly stopped his movements, completely ruining your high.Â
A frustrated whine escaped your lips, your body twitching in protest at the sudden loss of stimulation. Your eyes flew open, locking onto Suguruâs face, which was now hovering just above yours. The smug grin plastered across his face made your frustration burn hotter.
âWhat the hell, Suguru?â you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and annoyance.
He tilted his head, feigning innocence, his eyes never leaving yours. âPatience, sweetheart,â he murmured, his tone eerily calm. âI didnât say I was done with you.â
Your breath caught as his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm yet teasing. He pressed his body against yours, pinning you beneath him, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, âYouâre going to come when I say, and not a second before. Understood?â
The heat pooling in your belly flared again at his words, even as you glared up at him. You wanted to defy him, to push back against the control he always seemed to wield so effortlessly, but the intensity in his eyes left you speechless.
âSay it,â he pressed, his voice dangerously low, sending a shiver down your spine.
âYes,â you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
âGood girl,â he praised, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt about who was in control.
This time, he wrapped his hand around himself, giving his raging hard-on some much needed attention. He took his time, covering his cock with your juices, looking at you with such a stare that made you want to crawl away and hide from his gaze forever. Continuing to hover over you, he hooked one leg up with his arm, his other hand guiding himself to your entrance.
You nearly sobbed with relief at the feeling of his tip prodding at you. He slowly begins to fill you up, enjoying the way your walls seem to perfectly take every inch of him, even though so much time has passed. âFeel s' good,â he murmured, his voice rough as he began to pick up on a steady rhythm. âLet me take care of you properly.â You couldnât tell if he was talking to you or your cunt, but you didnât care as his movements began to pick up even more. Every pump inside of you felt deeper and deeper, his balls slapping against your ass, showing you no mercy.Â
Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched closed as he felt you squeeze around him. âYouâre so tight,â he whispers against you, hips beginning to stutter from the feeling of your pussy choking him for everything that he has. âPussy trying to milk me huh?â His movements were driving you relentlessly toward the edge. Pressing his lips against yours, he kissed you through it all, swallowing every noise that left your lips. Your body trembled beneath him, legs shaking against his body.
âDonât hold back,â he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. âIâve got you. Let go for me, beautiful.â
And with a cry that was equal parts his name and a broken gasp, you did, the tension in your body releasing in a wave of euphoria. Suguru didnât stop, riding out every tremor with you, his own high coming shortly after yours as his dick twitched inside of you, spurts of cum filling you up quickly. His name fell from your lips like a prayer as you held each other through every wave of pleasure.Â
When you finally came down, your chest heaving and your limbs trembling, he looked at you, a stupid smirk plastered on his face that you canât help but giggle at. As your laughter faded into the quiet hum of the room, Suguru brushed a strand of hair from your damp forehead, his touch tender. Something so raw in his eyes struck you harder than any words in this moment could.
âYouâre incredible,â he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your mingled breaths. For once, there was no smugness in his expression, only sincerity that matched the ache in your own heart.
You swallowed hard, the weight of everything between you settling in again. âThis doesnât fix anything, Suguru,â you said softly, your fingers tracing absent patterns along his chest. âThereâs still so muchââ
âI know,â he interrupted, his tone serious now. âI know I canât erase my mistakes and what I did to you and our family. But this, tonight, can be a fresh start, if youâll allow it to be.â You studied him for a long moment, searching for any hint of doubt or deceit, but all you saw was the man you once fell in love with some time ago, laying his heart on the table for you. Slowly, you nodded, though your heart still felt guarded. âI donât know if I can forgive you completely. At least, not right now.
He smiled softly, a hopeful look in his eyes. âIâm not asking for that right now. Just allow me to spend every single day making it up to you, and every day after that.â
As he pulled you closer, cradling you against his chest. You allowed your eyes to close, letting your brain imagine what life might look like in the next years to come. Old wounds may never heal, but maybe it was time to let him back in again. If not for your own heart, but for your daughter who so desperately craves the equal attention of both of her parents that love her more than they do anything else. It wasnât long before you fell asleep, the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat bringing you comfort that you thought youâd never be able to feel again.Â
For a moment, youâre able to forget the pain and anger that once filled your heart, and replace it with the newfound hope of making something whole out of the broken pieces left behind.
© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
#geto smut#geto x reader smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut
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travelers helper AU where is the reason why S/O is oblivious to all the men liking her is because every single time she showed an interested in a hot guy. They turned out to be gay, so sheâs convinced herself that all of the men are gay and possibly even dating each other. (Couples she thinks are real are Alhaitham x Kaveh Cyno x Tinari Zongli x Childe Kaeya x Venti Nuvilet x woirthslie ) and I watched their reactions to finding out that she thinks theyâre all gay
Ok this idea is funny xD But to anyone who like those ships, pls don't take it as some kind of hate towards those ships or something. --------- The guys are devastated after learning you think that they are into... each other. All of them wondering where did they make a mistake? Kaveh found it ridiculous, him and Alhaitham?! He wondered if you think so because they live in the same house? But there are many people who are friends and share homes⊠You even invite all your friends to live in your Teapot!! He really couldn't understand from where this idea came from⊠Is it because they bicker so much? But it didn't make sense to him!! Kaveh was anxious⊠do you not see him as a man or something? He is overthinking this whole thing. At this point he is debating whenever to show you his plans of the house he wants to make for you both in future.
Alhaitham was more clam about it, analyzing from where this idea may come. It's not like he and Kaveh were affectionate to each other and he couldn't recal any moment that could make you think like that about them. He will state that, no, he is not interested in Kaveh in such way (or anyone else, both guys and girls, that are not you) And yet you still say "That's okay! I won't judge! I will support whoever you love!" At this point Alhaitham may confess his feeling to you but the problem is that there is always someone by your sideâŠif not Aether then other guys. And the worst thing is Kaveh always appears too, making the misunderstanding even worse.
Cyno at first thought this is some kind of joke. But after seeing that you're not joking he was bewildered. Why would you think so? "You two sometimes look like parents of Collei" Parents? But when they were in Mondstadt he was sure you heard how he and Tighnari bickered who would be the 'older brother'⊠right? Cyno was silent. Trying to come up with something that will make you believe him that he is interested in you. Because whenever he would say that, you would be "ah Cyno! Please don't joke like that!" he would never joke about things like this... The General Mahamatra for now tries to avoid talking to Tighnari when you are closeâŠ
Tighnari only furrowed his brows. Him and Cyno? Big nope!! Just imagining that he would hear more jokes from Cyno if they were together already gives him a headache. The Forest Ranger was getting more and more irritated that you for some reason don't want to accept when he says that there is nothing between him and Cyno. So he started to approach this in different way. Thankfully Cyno already was avoiding him when you are close. So he can now start to be even bolder with his affections towards you. If you still refuse to believe that he is attracted to you, then you may expect to hear a confession soon.
Zhongli asked you if you can repeat yourself. Oh? Him and Childe together? In romantic relationship? Zhongli was thinking where this came fromâŠIs it because he often uses Childe's mora to buy things?But that was only that⊠and that Childe often bothers him so they could spar. Ah. Maybe this was the reason, maybe you think that 'sparings' are something different. Humans are truly interesting. He will ask you why you think so, patiently listening to your explanation. He is amused by this.
Childe laughed, but after seeing you are not laughing he stopped and said "Wait...are you serious?" He will say that there is nothing between them, even says that he prefers girls (to hint that he likes you) but you responded with "It's okay! You don't have to hide it! I accept you and I'm sure your family will accept this as well!" You're cuteâŠ. but why don't you want to believe him?! Should he shower you with more gifts? It would be better to invite you for a date but with Aether being around it's not that easyâŠ.
Kaeya was amused, but he didn't expect that you will think that Venti is his boyfriend. One part of him wanted to joke about it but other part was worried that you will take it too seriously and he will lose his chances with you. The cavalry captain doesn't worry about it too much. He will simply tell you that you're wrong and he will continue showering you with affections.
Venti was a bit hurt by this. Were his love songs and poems dedicated to you not enough? Or maybe this is your way to tell him that you're not interested in him? He can't really understand this⊠he never was affectionate to anyone else like he is towards you. But after learning he is not the only one that you think is into guys, he felt relieved. At least you didn't think that he and that block head are into each other.
Neuvillette was confused by this. There are already many things that he can't understand about humans. But he was sure that you will realize that he is trying to court you⊠not the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide⊠After that for some days it was raining in Fontaine. He decided to tell Furina about it, hoping for some advice in this situation. But she only started to laugh. After she calmed down she promised to help him to clear this misunderstanding.
Wriothesley already knew how oblivious you are but he never expected that you might be this oblivious. He will say that there is nothing like this between him and the Iudex and if you still insist about that then wellâŠif there will be a chance for you two to be alone you can expect him to kabedon you, making you look into his eyes and he won't let you go till you stop thinking that he is interested in anyone that is not you.
#shining-nebula2000#answered#ask box#Traveler's little helper#Genshin Impact x Reader#Thanks for the ask!#Have a nice day/night#My stuff#Traveler's little helper What If#Kaveh x Reader#Alhaitham x Reader#Cyno x Reader#Tighnari x Reader#Zhongli x Reader#Childe x Reader#Kaeya x Reader#Venti x Reader#Neuvillette x Reader#Wriothesley x Reader
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Can I request an Eddie Munson smut, maybe holiday themed? Maybe the whole thing thatâs like, reader manages to tie a bow around herself as a gift, and suddenly gets insecure, but hey canât herself undone before Eddie gets home.
He uses the bow to his advantage and shows reader how great she is without her intervening. đ«¶đ«¶
I love this idea!
cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play, oral (f receiving) body insecurity
You stand in the mirror wearing nothing but a piece of ribbon that you had intricately tied around yourself. Part of it is draped across one of your shoulders while another is covering your cunt while the bow is tied to cover your tits. Not only did it take you forever to find a ribbon big enough for this, but it also took you over an hour to figure out how to make it cover all the proper places. You feel good, excitement coursing through you as you canât wait for Eddie to get home. Heâs been doing a bunch of holiday concerts and is coming home just in time to spend Christmas with you.Â
You havenât seen him in weeks and want to surprise him with a gift you think he deserves: you. Youâre so needy for him and are sure that he feels the same for you. But as you look in the mirror again, you suddenly feel very insecure about yourself, not knowing how you had talked yourself into doing something so scandalous. You go to untie the bow, but it wonât budge, the intricate way youâve tied it clearly backfiring as it stays there, not coming undone no matter how hard you tug on it.
You hear the front door close and panic as you reach for your robe, quickly wrapping it around yourself, trying your best to hide the bow even though itâs very obvious underneath the very thin silk of your robe. But itâs too late to fix it as you see Eddie enter the room through the reflection on the mirror.Â
You turn around to face him, temporarily forgetting about your whole predicament as you make a beeline for each other. Heâs quick to wrap you up in his arms, giving you a tight hug as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with kisses.Â
âI missed you so much,â he says as he pulls back to look at you, so much love in his eyes as he stares into yours.Â
âI missed you too,â you reply and he leans forward, capturing your lips with his as he pulls you to his chest, noticing that thereâs something odd pressing against him.Â
He pulls away, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze shifts to the robe, seeing that there is definitely something underneath it. He wants to know what youâre hiding. What youâre wearing and why you seem so embarrassed by it. Heâs seen you naked more times than he can count so he doesnât know whatâs so embarrassing about what youâre wearing
âWhatâs under the robe, baby?â He asks and you feel your cheeks heat. Wrapping the top even tighter around you as you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide the bow. But Eddieâs not falling for it. âBaby?â He asks, his voice softer now, no longer teasing as he sees tears welling up in your eyes.Â
You step away from him and close your eyes tight as you slowly untie the robe and open it to show Eddie what youâve been hiding. You hear him gasp and open your eyes just in time to see him grin. He steps closer to you and grabs onto the robe, opening it even more to get a good view of what youâre wearing.Â
âMerry Christmas to me,â he says in a flirty tone as his eyes roam over every detail of the ribbon youâve tied around yourself. You turn away from him, feeling very uncomfortable and eddie grabs onto your face softly, forcing you to look him in the eyes.Â
âWhatâs going on?â He asks. Heâs not doing to pry, but so that he can help you not feel the way youâre feeling anymore.Â
âI-I did this whole thing and then I donât know-I started to feel silly so I went to take it off so I could change before you got home, but itâs stuck,â You reach for the bow and pull on the end, but it still wonât budge.Â
âDo you want some help?â He asks, a chuckle falling from his lips and you know heâs not laughing at you, but the situation as a whole. He slowly reaches for the other side of the bow and looks you up in the eyes, his growing dark. âIâve gotta say, this is the best gift Iâve ever gotten. Itâs really thoughtful of you, hon.â He yanks on the bow and the whole thing comes undone.Â
âYou think?â You ask and he nods, pushing the robe off of your shoulders so he can see the full thing youâve managed to do with the bow.Â
âOh, I know, baby. Why donât you let me show you just how grateful I am?â Youâre suddenly not embarrassed anymore, your need for him overpowering everything else.Â
âPlease,â you whine and he puts on a devilish grin as he begins to take off all of his clothes while you watch, impressed by how quickly heâs working and pretty soon, heâs down to his boxers and heâs reaching up to remove the rest of the ribbon from your body, eager to see you, all of you.Â
The ribbon falls to the floor and Eddieâs quick to pull you to his chest, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth as his hands rest on your back, moving down slowly, grabbing your ass which makes you gasp into his mouth before he grabs onto the back of your legs.Â
You jump like you know he wants you to and he catches you as your legs wrap around his waist and your lips connect once again as he backs up to the bed, turning around and collapsing onto it, taking you with him.Â
He falls on top of you and pins your wrists to the bed, his lips swallowing your giggles, quickly moving down to your neck, your chest, kissing as well as nipping at your skin before he goes in for a rough suck. Because youâve expressed how insecure you felt wrapped up in the ribbon, Eddie is determined to make you feel good, especially since heâll get to do it with his mouth the way he always likes.Â
âYouâre so pretty, baby,â he says as he goes in for another suck, this time right above your tit. âYou donât have to hide from me. I always want to see you. All of you.â Your skin grows hot at his compliment and youâre about to thank him, but he goes on. âAnd I intend on loving on every single inch of you until you believe me.âÂ
The last part comes out more raspy and youâre so wet now that you feel your slick trickling down your leg. You need him so desperately to take care of it, but you also want to soak up everything heâs doing to you, to enjoy it as much as possible. Heâs going through all the effort to make you feel good, after all. Even though you know he enjoys it just as much as you do.Â
He pulls back to look at you, his eyes darkening as a devilish grin spreads across his face. He then lets his gaze fall to your tits and you arch your back, moving back and forth to tease him as he feels drool forming in his mouth as he thinks about just how much he wants to lick and bite and suck on them.Â
âCâmon, Eds, you know you want you,â you bat your lashes and Eddie is quick to pin your back down to the bed, his mouth latching onto your nipple, bringing it into his mouth as he gives them a rough suck, causing a gasp to leave your mouth.Â
âE-Eddie, oh my god,â you whine and he continues to suck even harder as you grip onto the bedding underneath you for dear life. Your eyes shut tight as your back arches in pleasure, feeling so good, already feeling like youâre close.Â
Your hands grip the bedding underneath you even harder as you feel even more slick rolling down your leg. And just when you think Eddieâs done, he takes your nipple between his teeth, giving it a bite which causes you to absolutely lose it. A loud, delicious moan falls from your lips as your back arches in pleasure. Eddie bites down again and you moan even louder, grabbing onto whatever part of him you can get your hands on as an orgasm tears through you.Â
âEddie, sh-shit, oh my god,â you whine and he pulls away, smiling to himself as he sees your tit shining with his spit. As youâre coming down, he moves onto the next one, not being gentle as he noticed that you liked how rough he was previously.Â
He just goes straight in for a bite, biting down a little harder, but not hard enough to hurt you. But thatâs what you think you want: for him to hurt you just a little bit. Just to add a little spice to whatâs going on.Â
âHarder,â you command and he listens, biting down harder and you wince at the pain, but you still donât feel like itâs enough. âHarder.ïżœïżœ He bites down even harder and youâre wincing even more, but it just feels so good. âYeah,â you nod enthusiastically. âJust like that.âÂ
Eddie pulls on your nipple and your nails dig into him as you feel another orgasm coursing through you. He somehow always knows exactly what you need and when you need it. Itâs almost like he can read your mind and it seems like he can because of how well he knows you.
âThatâs it, baby,â Eddie encourages. âJust like that.â He pulls away just in time to see you orgasm again and heâs eating it up. He loves seeing you like this, your mouth wide open as you moan so loudly that itâs surely going to wake up your neighbors, but he couldnât care less.Â
He kisses his way down your torso and stops once he gets to your cunt, spreading your legs wide so he can see what heâs working with, letting out a dramatic gasp as he looks down at your cunt and how sopping wet you are.Â
âYouâre fucking soaked,â he says. âLooks like you need me to clean you up, hm?âÂ
âPlease.â Youâre begging now, pleading and Eddie loves when you get like this. He loves when you beg and it doesnât take much for you to get needy.Â
He spreads your legs even wider before getting down on his knees, draping them over his shoulders, scooting closer so that his face is right in front of your cunt.Â
âIâve been thinking about this for weeks,â he sighs before diving straight in, his lips latching onto your clit, giving it a suck and youâre quick to moan in response, your hands threading through his hair, giving it a rough tug.
âEddie, fuck,â you whine as his tongue swirls around, his fingers digging into your thighs as he does so. Heâs eating you out like heâs a man starved and now youâre actually becoming grateful for the time youâve spent away from each other.Â
âTaste so good, hon,â he comments. âThink this is the best youâve ever tasted. God, I could eat you all night.â
âThen w-why donât you?â You ask through labored breaths, grabbing onto his hair again as his lips travel down to your slit, his tongue moving back and forth across it, warming you up before he lets his teeth do all the work, scraping them along your cunt, eating up not only you, but the way youâre yanking on his hair as the hottest moans pour from your lips.Â
You stay like that for a while, Eddie eating you out for hours as you hold on to his hair for dear life as he makes you orgasm over and over until youâre absolutely spent, your words slurring. And even though youâre more than willing to keep going, Eddie decides that itâs time to go to bed since youâre already close to falling asleep anyway.Â
So he cleans you up then climbs into bed next to you, pulling you close so that your body is flush to his, his hand running up and down your side as you fall asleep right in front him and heâs hoping, praying that you really do know just how much he loves you.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut
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Read buttermilk today and now @ceilidho got me on that babysitter grindset⊠but what if I freaked it up a little.
cw: age gap (reader is around 21 and Soap is like 29ish), something sorta flirting with/on the edge of fauxcest due to a sibling-like bond, so Iâm gonna tag it as such just in case.
Before Johnny enlisted, heâd only ever had one paying job.
Taking care of you.
About eight years your senior, your mom decided to go back to working when you were around 4 and he was on the cusp of 13. And for 5 years (an eternity to a kid like you) he was your best friend in the world. Would get out of school, walk to the elementary school to get you, bring you home, and hang out until whenever your parents got off of work.
And the boy was devoted. Didnât mind that he had to put off hanging with his friends till the weekend. Didnât mind making your snacks or watching silly kids movies. Didnât mind when you asked him to play pretend veterinarian with you, and he had to lay down and act like a really sick horse. And you loved him.
The first time your parents took you on a vacation and you realized he wouldnât be there? You were so mad. As mad as a 4 year old can be.
Youâre embarrassed when you cry at the news that heâs enlistingâ at age 10 youâre not supposed to cry anymore, youâre a big girl. He hugs you so tight, early in the morning before he has to go.
His folks move during his first tour. There isnât an anchor to bring him back to you for a very long time. Over a decade, as it turns out.
Heâs getting ready to go on leave when he gets a callâ his mum buzzing with some kind of gossip as usual.
âYouâll never guess who I saw down at Sainsburyâsââ
Your university happens to be in the town his family moved to. He has his own place now of course, but he likes to keep close to them.
His first night back and his mum is beside herselfâ trying to get the place nice, because youâre joining them for dinner. Johnny never even considers that when you come to the door, youâre not the little girl he left tearing up on her parents porch.
He has to remember to close his mouth at the sight of you. His dad offers you a beer for fuckâs sake. Heâs amazed at how much has changedâ but also, how much is the same. The curve of your nose, and bubble of your laughter, the way your eyes widen with interest.
You happen to be on break right now. So of course, he ends up unwittingly spending all of his leave with you. You were always a funny kidâ youâre a lot funnier now that you can swear. And you were always cute but now youâre so⊠pretty.
And he is not a fucking fan of the kind of attention it gets you. The way guys look at you when youâre sitting alone, waiting for him at a coffee shop. How your phone goes off at least once every 20 minutes, and itâs almost always âthis guy from your classâ. He tells himself that itâs just because he was responsible for you for so longâ that heâs just having trouble shaking that off. He just remembers when you were so innocentâ he doesnât wanna see you get chewed up and spit out by college boys.
And he keeps finding himself falling into old patterns. Making you stay still so he can wipe your mouth after having a bit of a messy danish. Holding your hand tight when youâre in a busy place, crossing any streets. Having you tell him what you want so he can order things for you. Picking you up so he can hear you giggle and tell him to put you down.
He tells himself that when he touches himself later that itâs just because being away for work has left him touch starved and sensitive. Itâs only natural to get turned on by a pretty girl who leans into him⊠especially when you get along so famously.
(Even though he remembers playing I spy while he held your hand and walked you home from school, your little backpack slung over his shoulder, even though he had his own to carry. )
Before he knows it, itâs his last night at home, ending it off with another of his mumâs dinners. At the table you casually mention the graduate schools youâre thinking of going toâ some close by, some not. He almost chokes when you mention that thereâs a really nice school in Canada you were considering.
Thatâs when he knows heâs fucked. Because he doesnât think of that as you getting on with your life. Of a girl getting her education. He thinks of that as losing you, and after the bliss of the past couple of weeks heâs had with you, heâs not sure heâll take being separated from you nearly as long as he did the last time. Not to mention all of the guys at your school trying to get their hands on you.
So heâs gonna have to find a way to get you too invested to travel far. And figure out how to protect you from those assholes when heâs not around.
Making you a part of his family and putting his ring on your finger should be enough, right?
#writing#cod fanfic#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#soap x reader#cw age gap#cw fauxcest
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Life as We Know It â Rafe Cameron
Epilogue
Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.
Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life togetherâone step at a time.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Character deaths & angst.
Author's Notes: That marks the end of this series :( thank you guys so much for all the love and feedback! Iâm so proud of this series and I hope u guys love it as much as I do.
Masterlist: Here
It had been a year since the custody battle, since Rafe and you had found yourselves standing side by side, figuring out this whole "family" thing. A year since both of you issued a restraining order against Ward, and the judge granted it. A year since you stopped pretending you didnât feel something for him, and he stopped acting like he was too good for anyone, especially you. Now, the chaos of life had settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. It wasnât perfectâfar from itâbut it was yours.
And, somehow, against all odds, the three of you had made it work.
âŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻ
The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, where you stood trying to assemble breakfast. You had learned, over time, that cooking for Willa was an Olympic sport. Every time you managed to whip together a simple meal, she somehow managed to flip the situation on its headâliterally.
"Willa, no!" you heard Rafe call out from the living room. You looked up just in time to see him frantically trying to stop her from scaling the couch like some sort of tiny, diaper-clad Spider-Man. âYou canât climb up there!â
But Willa was undeterred. She gave a small shriek of triumph, her baby legs scrabbling up the cushions like she was born to conquer furniture. You had to admit, you were impressed.
"I swear sheâs part monkey," you muttered under your breath, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.
Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking out at odd angles, the look of a man who had given up on ever having a decent morning.
âYou say that like itâs a surprise,â he deadpanned, rubbing his face. âWeâve had this conversation a hundred times. No more couch climbing. Sheâs already an inch away from that giant coffee table, which, let me remind you, is made of solid oak. And do you know what happens when Willa decides gravity is optional?â
You snorted. âWe end up on the floor with her holding a half-empty juice box like sheâs just conquered the world, while you scramble to pick up the pieces of your dignity.â
He shot you a pointed look. âExactly.â
You set the pancakes aside and wandered over to rescue Willa, who was now attempting to climb up the back of the couch like a small, determined mountain goat. Scooping her up with one hand, you held her up in front of you. âYou know, kid, youâre lucky youâre so cute, because if I had to stop doing my work every time you decided to do a backflip off a chair, Iâd be in therapy by now.â
Willa gurgled, her eyes wide and innocent, as though she didnât have a single rebellious bone in her tiny body.
Rafe leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. âIâm just saying, if sheâd stop doing that, maybe I could get ten minutes of peace. But no. We live in a house of chaos.â
You smirked, watching as Willa grabbed his shirt and yanked. âIf sheâs chaos, youâre the tornado that hits right after,â you teased, making Rafe roll his eyes dramatically. âJust admit itâyou love it.â
He groaned but couldnât hide the small smile tugging at his lips. âYeah, yeah, I love the chaos. But you have to admit itâs a lot of work. I mean, whoâs going to put together her tiny little rocking horse without accidentally breaking something?â
âNot me,â you said, raising an eyebrow. âIâm pretty sure I broke that rocking horse three times already.â
At that, Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. âAlright, Iâll take that as my cue to fix it. You keep trying to make breakfast, and Iâll figure out whatâs going on with the toy horse thatâs apparently haunted.â
Willa babbled in your arms, and you kissed the top of her head. âIâm not saying this to be dramatic, but Iâm pretty sure she is a secret agent in training. Iâve seen her figure out how to break into places sheâs not supposed to be like sheâs in a spy movie.â
Rafe raised an eyebrow. âSpy movie? Sheâs more like a tiny burglar who knows how to manipulate you with her big eyes and unstoppable giggle.â
You chuckled, nodding. âFair. But I still think she could make a killing in espionage. Maybe we should start saving for her college fund in case she ends up needing a fake passport.â
Rafe grinned, his mood visibly lightened by your banter. âIâm pretty sure weâre going to need therapy more than we need a college fund. But Iâll get started on that fake passport idea, just in case.â
You grinned back at him, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. There was a timeâjust a year agoâwhen you had no idea what your future would look like. Now, here you were, a family, even if it didnât look like any family you had ever imagined.
âWell,â you said, turning back to the pancakes, âwe better get our act together before she eats all the syrup by herself.â
Rafe snorted and shot you a grin. âYou think sheâs not going to try that already?â
âŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻ
Later that day, after Willaâs nap (which, letâs be honest, was more of a battle than an actual nap), you and Rafe found yourselves in the backyard, taking a breather after the chaotic lunch youâd just survived. Willa was happily playing in her little sandbox, tossing sand like it was confetti at a New Yearâs party, while you and Rafe collapsed onto the porch swing, exhausted but content.
"How the hell did we get here?" you asked, your voice quiet, more to yourself than to him.
Rafe leaned back with a sigh, staring up at the sky. "Iâm pretty sure we got here because youâre too stubborn to admit you love me," he said with a grin.
You nudged him with your elbow. "Excuse me, but itâs not just me thatâs stubborn. Have you seen the way you try to resist her puppy-dog eyes? You canât even handle Willa when she does her sad little face, and you know it."
He groaned. âItâs my kryptonite. Iâm weak. Iâll admit it.â
âGood. Because that means youâre finally accepting that sheâs the boss around here. Weâre just along for the ride.â
Rafe chuckled, nudging you back. âIf thatâs true, then Iâm okay with it. Besides, she has the best team behind her, right?â
You smiled softly, watching Willa scoop up a handful of sand and drop it like a tiny little sandstorm. âRight. And weâre the best team for her.â
There was a pause, a quiet moment where both of you watched Willa. The future was still uncertainâlife always wasâbut for the first time in a long time, it didnât seem so scary.
âWell,â Rafe said, standing up and stretching, âI guess we better go make sure our future crime boss doesnât eat the sand. You know, for her health.â
You snorted, laughing as you stood too. âYou mean for the safety of our sanity?â
âThat too,â Rafe said, laughing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a warm hug.
It wasnât perfect, but it was real. And for once, that was enough.
âŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻ
And so, life continued. Chaotic. Messy. Full of love. Your newfound family was far from conventional, but it was undeniably theirsâand somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.
Plus, Willa? Sheâd definitely grow up to be a world-class agent of chaos, and Rafe and you would have to learn to live with that.
But at least youâd be together.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction#life as we know it
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Something special ||
Prologue - > Part 1 - > Part 2
Yan! Batfam x Neglected! Reader
hope you guys enjoy!!
"Make sure to not miss any notes okay?"
You looked up at your mom despite the sunlight shining in your eyes as she smiled at you, "okay!" You trained your focus back to the piano she had guided you to, one that had collected dust in every nook and cranny, tucked into the corner of your home.
Your mom took her place behind you before resting her hands over yours. You felt her slowly guide your hands to each note, missing a few here and there piecing together a sloppily made song, one that you could barely hear over the giggles you couldnt help but let out.
Be-
You giggled more when she spend up the song, guiding your hands back and forth.
-ep
"See," your mama started, "you're getting it! I knew you would my smart little girl." She said from above you. You looked up, expecting to see her smiling brightly down at you, but-
You felt nothing but horror seeing nothing but a scratched out face.
Beep!
You shot up from your bed, sweating intensely and heart thumping wildly in your chest. Your breathing was erratic for a few minutes before you could bring it back to a normal pace. When you finally managed to calm down, you let out a sigh,
"Another nightmare." You've already had a few nightmares here and there, but recently they've become a bit too intense recently. It's not anything generically scary, but it's precious memories
Precious memories where you can never seem to remember your moms face.
It started off small, little details, a misplaced freckle here and there, before suddenly noticable things like wrong eye color. Was it really the wrong color or did you just forget?
You didn't wanna have to get up and deal with another long day, one full of advanced classes and a tad bit too many extracurriculars. As much as you hated to admit it, the overloaded work schedule was starting to take its toll on you, and you weren't too sure how to handle it.
Maybe you could rest, let yourself sleep in for the first time in what seemed like forever, even though you had some things to catch up on, maybe you could grant yourself this little mercy.
You looked up at the huge wall you passed by everytime you went to your room, littered with pictures of all the family's adventures. Dicks big flips through the air, like a bird soaring freely, Damiens standing strong showing the confidence he holds in himself, Duke smiling brightly with Tim and Stephanie. A place you so longingly wished to be placed upon.
you paused in your thoughts about deserting everything, before finally deciding to finally get up out of bed. you forced yourself to head to the bathroom and get a headstart on your day.
â
God it was too early for this
Because you tried your best to get an earlier headstart to your day, you had taken it upon yourself to drive every day to school as to not give Alfred more work, and not have to share the car with Damien, who loved nothing more than to poke, prod and criticize everything you did.
You had wanted to get to school early to get ahead on the schoolwork you had that was starting to slowly build up, along with some club work you had been given as of recently. Being in so many things and working as tirelessly as you did, it amazed people. Teachers, students, advisors.
It really was amazing to see the eyes full of admiration, something you had been longing for for years, but sometimes all you wished was to quit everything and actually hang out with your friends for once, to go to sleep without the countless responsibilities plaguing your mind.
You sighed as you pulled into the school parking lot, parking the car in front of the school and sat for a minute to mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. Finally you checked your bag that was sitting in the passenger seat and fixed your uniform before getting up and out of the car.
Time for another day.
â
Even though it was tiring, studying in the early mornings at the library with the sun shining through the stained glass pane windows, sprinting to every class, ones full of hours and hours of homework, most advanced to give yourself an advantage, and trudge towards clubs at the end of every day, you made it work.
You kept everything on a tight schedule, having to keep everything on a time restraint to be able to manage everything without feeling like you were going insane. And you did, but you kept pushing as hard as you could.
But you tried to not make it seem as such, mainly for one reason.
Ms. Honey.
She was always worried about you, a lady with a heart of gold that could see the tiredness that seeped through your eyes and consumed every single part of your body. A tiredness that made it seem as if your body would suddenly one day just entirely give up on you.
She was someone who made sure that you were getting enough rest, food, and weren't overworking yourself as much as you always did.
Of course you knew that no one really cared in the end. Other than the friends you kept in your close nit circle, you knew that no one would really pay any mind of course.
But you knew Ms. Honey, and you knew that if she felt the need to, she would tell your father about all the late night studying you did, all the tears and confessions you let out to her when things felt too real, or the way your eyes would fight to stay open when you had her class, something she always noticed despite her attempts to pretend she didnt.
You didn't want him to find out, not because he would care, but because you knew he would be upset. He'd be upset that you made him seem like someone that couldn't even care for his own child, someone that was the complete opposite of his public image, and you didn't want to give then another reason to dislike you, not when you were trying so hard to do otherwise.
So you put on fake smiles, grinned so hard that it almost brought you to tears everytime. Not only for her, but eventually even your friends. Everything felt like a hassle, and that alone forced you to put on a facade to the world, one that felt heavier and heavier every day that went on.
But you tried.
You really did.
â
You strolled by the students that were ending the opposite way from you towards the door, along with the other students that had club activities. This was the one time of day that was relatively peaceful for you before it was overtaken with even more responsibilities for you to bear.
You peaked into one particular clubroom, after hearing your name being called. Your newspaper club, a club that you shared with a few of your friends, and always in a way gave you a sense of comfort. Looking in, you saw the one and only Miss Honey. You gave her a relaxed smile once she took notice of you and entered once she ushered you in with her hand.
Her eyes took on a softness once she looked at you, "Y/N, it's a pleasure to see you as always, how was your day?" You paused to think, "it was okay, y'know, the usual." She winced a little at that before returning her smile from before, albeit a little strained. "Ah, I see. Well I just wanted to check in with you, you can stay here and relax or you can go on to your next club, but nonetheless, thank you for stopping bye."
You gave her a smile before slowly retreating out of the classroom, "I'll see you around Miss Honey?" She brought her attention away from her work, and back to you, giving you a more genuine smile. "Of course, I'll see you soon."
You took that as an end to the conversation and left to your next club, letting the smile drop from your face. After you left, Miss Honey couldn't help but do the same and let her feelings come forth and settle in on her face. It truly did break her heart how sad you always seemed to be.
"I know, it must be pretty confusing for me to ask you to see me," Miss Honey stated as calmly as she could, "but I'm worried about your sister. She's been overworking herself and I know, I know she says that she's fine but, I know her and I can tell she isnt." Miss Honey paused, it seemed as though she had more to say but instead let the words die in the back of her throat while waiting for his response.
Damien let out an irritated sigh, "and why is this my problem?" Miss Honey was a bit taken back for a moment. Were they really family? After she regained her composure she responded, "well, she's your sister, is she not? I can't see why it wouldn't be." She let out a little laugh to lighten the tension but quickly regretted it seeing the cold-blooded stare she got in return.
She knew this was a bad idea, she really did, but she was just so worried. She could see it despite how much you tried to hide it. A friend of yours even let it slip how much you had been working as of recently. She brought her attention back to Damien as he cleared his throat.
"I'll... check in. But only because it was brought to my attention, so don't try and bother me with the nonsense again, alright?" She swallowed harshly before nodding her head, standing up and thanking him profusely. "Thank you, thank you really. I really do appreciate this."
Damien quickly gathered his belongings before heading back to his homeroom, to grab his stuff and go home. He honestly couldn't care less for whether or not you were okay, in fact if anything it was a good thing, finally putting good use to the last name you were given. Though he tried to ignore the small pull in his heart whenever he saw the tired eyes you shifted his way.
He couldn't let something as small as this continue, even though it was just a teachers worries, it could become something bigger, something worse, a stain on fathers carefully created reputation. And as his son, it was his job to put a pin in this.
You walked through the halls that seemed to grow longer every day. You needed to get back to your room and work on your club work. Newspaper class needed an essay on the new rules that the dean had passed along with student polls. Your photography club needed the, 'your life' collage by Friday, and you didn't even want to get started on debate.
You needed to work on homework as well, but you couldn't bring yourself to at the moment. Your brain felt like mush and you knew you didn't have the brains required at the moment to do the advanced formulas for math class, or the willpower to research more for your science fair project. You just couldn't
But you had to because-
.
Why did you have to?
Why did you have to work yourself to the bone everyday, to just come home to an empty manor, a place you didn't even feel comfortable enough to call a home? The people here would never read through the essays you spend hours creating, or go to your debate matches and listen to the arguments you piece together with ease.
So why did you work so hard? For a pat on the back that would never come for you, for another harsh criticism from your so called brother? could you even call someone like that your brother? Do siblings kill eachothers spirit with every word they spit at one another's way?
"H-"
You wanted to go back. To go back to that bright apartment- home. To the place that you used to do so many things with your mama in. God you missed her. Why did you have to have her, the one person who loved you, liked you taken away?
"He-"
How much more would you have to suffer before you could finally be able to live without the burdens weighing upon your mind 24/7?
"Hey Y/N!"
You jumped out of your trance before snapping your head over to Duke, who was looking at you with concerned eyes and an unsure smile. He paused to think of what to say now that he got your attention, "you doing okay?"
"..Yes?" You winced internally at how unconvinced that came out, you could see on his face that he clearly didnt believe you. "Are you sure? Damien mentioned your...dilemma."
You let out a sigh, you honestly just wanted to go to your room, "yes, I promise I'm fine- wait I'm sorry what?" Your dilemma? What dilemma? You could feel yourself starting to freak out, mainly because that was a pretty big area to cover. It could've been one of your clubs, classes, teachers-
You felt your heart drop as that last category came to mind. Had Miss Honey said something to him? You tried to think back to times where you messed up in front of her. Did she notice despite the smiles you put on for her? And if Damien told Duke already, how many other people had he told?
Dukes concerned face came back into focus, his mouth was moving but you couldn't hear a single word that was coming out of it. You felt absolutely sick. Your breathing had sped up against your will, and you were starting to see black spots in your vision.
Before you could help it, your legs buckled out from underneath you, and before you knew it all you could register was the pounding in your head and the vision of Dukes arms shooting to grab you before your head smacked against the floor.
It was really sunny that day, to the point that you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle. You honestly didn't pay it too much mind, mainly because you were much more focused on something else.
You giggled as your mom wrapped her arms around your waist and lifted you in the air from the small mattress you two shared, swinging you around while tickling you. You had replayed this in your mind more times than you could count, considering this was the day your mom passed.
You remember how happy you had been at first, despite the fact that it was just any other day. Getting up to your mom nudging you awake, having her whisk you off to the bathroom to get you all set for the big day ahead of you, making you breakfast full of as many nutrients as she could possibly pack into it, always trying to incorporate a smiley face into her finished work.
It was so simple, but so special.
It played like a broken loop in the late nights where you felt so utterly alone, nothing able to distract you. From the memories, the emptiness you felt when you saw your mom hunched over and eventually lying cold on the kitchen floor with smoke coming from the frying pan. The sadness you felt being dragged away from the home you two shared and made your own. The anger you felt whenever you failed to remember her voice.
You loved your mom, and even the memories that came with her, but this, this one specific memory hurt the most. It hurt because you never could do anything to change it. You couldn't when you were pulling on your dead moms arms to get up, and you couldn't when the memory played in your head while you tried to sleep.
You wished you could turn away- no, run away from this memory and bury it in the deep depths of your mind-
"You know mama always loves you right?"
You paused in what you were doing and turned towards her, confused on why she had stated the obvious. "Yeah I do! And I love you more than I love dessert!" You said with a proud grin. Your mom just turn her head towards you before bursting out in laughter, pure and filled with joy.
Her tone took a somber tone as she then said, "I won't always be here y'know. I know you don't understand what I mean now, but, just know that mama loves you no matter what, where, or who you are, okay?" You stared at her for a second before you smiled at her,
"Okay!"
You slowly opened your eyes, flinching from the sunlight seeping through the window into your eyes. You tried shifting your stiff muscles and rolling them around a bit before fully sitting up. You looked around the unfamiliar bed you were in, along with the unfamiliar room. The room you were in was obviously in the Wayne manor from the luxorious architecture, but if it wasn't yours, then where were you?
"Finally awake I see."
You jumped at the sudden voice, snapping your head towards it. You felt your heart drop as you finally realized who's room it was.
Damien.
He stared at you from a chair on the side of the bed, legs crossed. He didn't say anything further, and just stared at you. It was unsettling, not because it was cold like it usually was, that you were used to, but this was just staring, like he was simply observing you.
And you hated it.
You shifting around uncomfortably before saying, "what happened?" You winced at the scoff he let out as he sat more upright, "you passed out, that's what." You just faintly recalled what he was talking about, just barely. Had you really? You swore that you got just enough sleep to be okay.
"Get some more sleep tonight, or else." You looked back towards him surprised. As if reading your mind he continued, "I really couldnt care less, but I don't need you doing that at school that's all." He was starting to leave before shifting back towards you, "also, get it together and leave as soon as possible."
And with that he left you alone in his room.
â
You were finally back in your own room, away from any prying eyes and finally able to do your work. You needed to go over ypur club activities, maybe do some homework, and finally get dinner. When was the last time you had eaten.
You looked over at your phone after hearing the notification, picking it up and checking who had texted you. It read,
Aryannn đ
> Hey Y/N, do you wanna go to dinner with me and cody?? Ik, your soooo busy these days but pleasee? đđ
you relaxed seeing who it was and let out a little chuckle. You missed hanging out outside of school with them, but you had work to do, and unfortunately it was due soon which meant you needed to get a jump on it.
"Just know that mama loves you no matter what, where, or who you are, okay?"
You paused and decided to do something different than your usual.
Sorry Aryan not ton|
Sorry Aryan no|
So|
Ofc!! I'll see you two soon, usual spot?|
you didn't need to see her response as you jumped out of your desk chair with a big smile on your face, maybe for once you could let loose and have fun, let yourself not be overtaken by the piles and piles of work you have to complete.
Breathing felt easier for some reason.
â
You walked down the long staircase skipping a few steps here and there with a pep in your step. You were excited to finally be able to see those two after- how long had it been? Well, if you couldn't even remember then it had for sure been too long.
You skipped down the stairs and right as you reached the end and started to make your way towards the front doors, you noticed a blur of red to your right. You did a double take before noticing Barbara, who was seemingly just standing there by the bottom of the stairs banister.
She looked at you and smiled, which wasn't out of the usual. You assumed it would end there like it typically did, but surprise surprise when she actually waltzed over towards you and blocked your path to the door.
She smiled at you and said in a soothing voice, "hey Y/N, doing okay?" That made you cautious. Why did she suddenly care if you were okay or not? Unless-
"Did Damien say something about me? Because if so I promise I'm fine." You blurted out to her. There's no other reason why she would suddenly care about you, or atleast not any that came to mind.
Her eyes widened an inch when you said that, before letting out a sigh and rubbing her forehead. "Straight to the point I see." She said plainly, "look I know you probably think your fine, but could you please go lay down? It's dangerous, and if you pass out, in Gotham of all places, you could get seriously hurt. Please?"
You hesitated for a moment before deciding, "I'm fine, alright? I'll just be out for a little, I'll be careful." She reached out for you as you passed by her before letting her arm fall back to her side as she let out another sigh.
As she watched you walk out through the doors and saw your figure fade into the distance before the doors shut, she pulled out her phone and dialed someone.
â
You strolled down the street arm in arm with Aryan, with Ethan looking in the shops by your side half listening in, half in his own world. You felt so relaxed, being here with them talking about school antidotes, teachers that were irritating as of recently, just catching up with eachother.
Despite the fact that you were originally supposed to get dinner with these two, you guys had been going from shop to shop looking as many things possible. Clothing, antiques, video games, comics, books, technology, home furniture, you name it. The one thing you loved about being with them was no matter what or where you were, you would always be laughing to the point of pain.
You felt so happy with them.
As you guys finally walked up to the restaurant, Aryan pulled Ethan to the front and started to push him in while following him. You were about to go in after them, but felt your heart spike as you saw something run in the corner of your eye. You snapped your head towards the street but saw no one there. Your eyes lingered on the alleyway, but decided against it since alleys were typically a call for death in Gotham.
Ethan pulling on your arm brought you back, so you shook it off and walked into the restraunt with your friends.
â
You had enjoyed dinner much more than you thought you would've. Dinner was fun, filled with stories dating from a week ago, to even a few years back, memories you treasured more than anything. You guys split the bill, grabbed takeout containers and piled on as much as you could before heading out.
You guys had parted, going your separate ways after a prolonged goodbye, one that must have lasted over half an hour. You were going your way, passing a few people here and there, but still feeling a twinge of unease. It felt as though you were being followed, and although you wanted to chalk it up to nothing more than being tired, in Gotham being followed was way more common than was typically normal.
You kept speeding up, hoping to get to your car quicker, praying to whatever God's there were that it wasn't all jacked up. How stupid were you to not only leave it who knows where at this time of night, but to walk alone? In Gotham of all places. You couldn't help but berate your past self as you speed walked through the streets.
Just as you turned a corner, you felt yourself bump into a tough chest. You fell back a little before being caught and pulled back up. You rubbed your head a bit, before looking up at them and seeing his worried look, "are you alright kid? Sorry I didn't see you."
It took you a few seconds of sifting through the vigilante names and pondering on it as to not get it wrong, "...Nightwing?" He immediately lit up as you said that, "yeah, the one and only!" His tone immediately became concerned, "should you be here right now? Gothams dangerous, you should be careful."
You just stared at him in question, why were so many people worried about you recently? But as to not give him any more reason to worry, you settled on, "Yeah, well I'm okay." you did a double take as your eyes settled on your car sitting in the parking lot behind him, and mentally did a victory dance. Thank you universe.
"Actually," you started as you tried to ease on by him, "my cars right over there, so I'll be heading off now since you probably have other people to save and whatnot. Bye!" You tried to walk past him quickly but the feeling of his hand snatching your wrist made it clear that this conversation wasn't done yet.
"Wait!" He winced after he had yelled that out, coming out louder than expected. He hesitated for a moment, before letting go of your wrist. "Just... please be safe, okay kiddo? You should be more aware of your surroundings and not goofing around with friends at this time of night."
You looked at him and tried to place exactly where you recognized his mannerisms from. Pushing it to the back of your mind, you simply smiled up at him, "of course! Thank you Nightwing." After saying your final piece sprinted back to your car before he could try anything else.
When you finally reached the car, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally you were in the car, and despite the fact you had a long drive back, you let yourself have this little victory. You looked back at the spot that Nightwing was standing in as he waved towards you with a smile on his face before disappearing in a flash.
You started up the car and looked at the screen to check the time.
10:47 PM
Despite how nervous and frankly a little creeped out you had felt before, Nightwing was right. Being out with friends so late in the streets of Gotham was the kind of stories you saw everyday on the news. If anything you-
You felt your heart drop when a thought came to mind.
How did he know you were with your friends?
taglist!! : @dhanyasri, @wizzerreblogs, @chericia, @daddyissuesehe, @darktrashpoetry, @dreamsarenicer, @shadowytravelerlover, @alliwantisadonut, @lemiko0, I wrote this on nothing but hopes, dreams and Tyler's 'like him' on loop for hours. ( ÂŽâłïœ)
BTW I might start writing for hxh as a sort of "break" but I'm not dropping this!!!
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#platonic batfam#reader insert#yandere batfam x reader#platonic yandere#x reader#batfam
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Emperor Caracalla has busied himself with his favorite concubines to indulge his senses for the evening, leaving his sister-in-law to her own devices. The Empress decides to retire to her chambers and enjoy a rose petal bath.
Some time later, after Emperor Geta has returned from meeting with the Senators, he sees his Empress bathing alone, so he decides to join her and help her further decompress. đ
You hear him before you see him. Your head resting on the smooth, well-finished ceramic floor, your body completely submerged in the water, petals surrounding you completely with every slightest movement, your eyes remain closed, as if you opened them, everything would be over in the snap of a finger. You let your hearing senses heighten, listening to him walk around the room, his footsteps, the exasperated sigh that leaves his lips, he seems a little tired, you think. You can hear the rustling of fabric, of someone undressing not far from you, the sound of bones cracking as it can only be him stretching, you agonize, imagining the state of his poor muscles. You hear him approach, seemingly circling the tub to the opposite side of you, and you feel his eyes heavy on your body as he studies you.
âHow's the water, my love?â â You hear him ask in a rhetorical manner, you know he will join you regardless of the answer given, you can already feel the way he leans towards the water, as if calculating the best way to get in without spilling too much of it and ruining your rose bath.
âHmmmâ â You respond with just a satisfactory murmur, indicating that the water is at the perfect temperature, earning a nasal laugh from Geta in response, seeming to find your relaxed attitude at that moment amusing. He doesn't waste much time after that, you feel one foot entering the water, and then the other, and then finally you feel the pressure of his body sitting in front of yours, the act doing as expected, some of the water overflowing out, earning him a slight tsk from you, which he promptly ignores.
âAll cozy, huhâŠâ â You hear Geta say after a few seconds of adjusting himself where he is sitting, he takes some of the water in both of his palms in a shell position, using it to wet his face and some of his hair. You remain silent for the next few minutes, he doesn't care, but you can slowly feel the tickle of his fingertips reaching one of your legs, caressing it.
âCut thatâ â You answer simply, finally opening your eyes to get a better look at him, his chest glistening above the water, his hair now a little damp and slicked back, that damn smile on his face, the one where he bites his own lower lip when doing it, a smile of pure anticipation and mischief, you know. You roll your eyes at him, extending one of your legs above the water level, using it to push his chest back, distancing him from you. â âThis is a relaxing momentâ â You tell him in a grumpy tone, implying that his advances would ruin it.
âOh, I know. I'm helping with thatâ â Geta responds, chuckling as he is pushed by your leg, but this does little to shake him, he reaches both of his hands on your foot which you press against his chest, bringing it close to his face and distributing affectionate kisses on it, you feel ticklish instantly and try to pull your foot from his grip, only earning your foot being grabbed even more and a playful bite on your big toe, making both of you giggle silly. â â... Can I stay?â â He questions after a few seconds of silence, your foot now being massaged by his soft hands, your body relaxing again where it rests. Itâs sweet, really, how after a few years of marriage, he still cares so much about what you might be thinking. You just nod, enjoying the massage, but missing the satisfied little smile adorning his face at your answer.
âI really missed you during my dayâŠâ â You hear Geta start to speak in a dreamy and tired tone, he really gets much more exhausted when he doesn't have you around all the time, you murmur in understanding, there was little you could do, Geta was busy today, and Caracalla had requested your company. You feel the massage turn into kisses again, these that go down to your ankle, where he also leaves some playful bites, up to your calf, his body getting even closer as he goes, slowly caging yours.
âLooking at your pretty face for at least one more second during the day already makes it so much betterâŠ" â He says, and with that, you open your eyes to him, meeting his desires, he lets his own wander over every little detail of your face, admiring you completely as he had done so many times before, and this look never changes, as if he were seeing you for the first time over and over again, it makes you warm inside, warm like his body now pressing against yours, towering over you, both of his hands on either side of your head, holding himself up on the ceramic it rests on.
âKiss meâŠâ â He asks, not orders, he asks. And you fulfill his wish, you direct your head towards his, your lips meeting his several times, in chaste and affectionate pecks, the pecks becoming a seal of lips, and with that, an intrusion of his tongue in your mouth, dominating all possible space in it, his hunger for you more insatiable every day regardless of how many times he has you in his arms. You moan against his mouth when you feel one of his hands run down your body, the tips of his fingers running down your skin, tracing your belly, until they reach your most intimate region, your legs opening for him unconsciously. â âYou moan so beautifully, my dearâ â He growls close to your ear as your lips part from his, his face now trailing kisses from your ear to your neck, smelling you there, letting his tongue run all over the area, savoring you like the tastiest dish, and to him, you might as well be. His fingers enjoy teasing you, feeling your lips before letting them wander over your clit for mere seconds, making you let out a protesting unhappy sound.
âPleaseâŠâ â You beg, earning a satisfied grunt from him, finally using his thumb to stimulate your needy clit, earning a loud, grateful moan from you, which soon becomes a slightly strangled one at the feeling of his teeth on your right shoulder, biting and sucking the spot, hoping for the marks he'll be able to see clearly in the light of the day tomorrow.
âYou make my cock so hard when you beg for my touches, I want to pound into you until you are unable to walk properlyâ â He says next to your ear, and along with the stimulation on your clit, you can feel two of his fingers getting wet with what he can get from your sticky cunt, using from your natural lubrication to slowly insert his index and middle finger inside you â âI want to stretch you out and fuck you until that pussy of yours is the perfect shape for my cock, made to satisfy only him, knowing how it feels inside you and feeling pleasure from it without even having to be there. I want this filthy pussy to think only of him when she begs to be filled on her horniest daysâ â Geta continues, his dirty words stimulating all the right parts of your brain and body, and despite what he says, he makes no effort to seek self-satisfaction, focusing only on stimulating you, seeming to feel enough pleasure in just giving you pleasure.
âI want this pussy to belong to me, for it to only contract my name when it cumsâ â You hear him say in a fierce tone, biting your lower lip between his teeth before capturing you again for a starving kiss, he is starved for you, for what your body can provide him, Geta intensifies the movements in your flower, just like the roses, his fingers inside you inverting between a back and forth penetration and a scissor like one, stretching you completely for him, while his thumb frantically stimulates your clit in tireless circular movements. And with that, you let yourself go for him.
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