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the-winter-spider · 2 days ago

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Waiting Room | Part Two

Bucky x reader (as always )

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Angst i guess sorta

A/N: So this is the next part to waiting room that was suppose to be just a One Shot but in easily convinced lol and I didn't really have a direction for the story to go in and this is where I landed, so hope you enjoy. There will be maybe another part or two so I can wrap it up.

The night was cool as you walked away from the compound, the silence almost soothing despite the ache in your chest. You hadn’t made any plans, hadn’t packed anything more than a single bag. You just knew you couldn’t stay in that place anymore—not with the memories pressing in around you, with the sense that every hallway, every room, was echoing with what used to be between you and Bucky.

The city lights were ahead of you, casting faint glows against the dark sky, and for the first time, you felt completely unmoored. Your thoughts tangled in every step you took, as if each pace was a step away from the life you had built with the Avengers, and more painfully, from Bucky.

Hours passed as you wandered the city, barely aware of where you were going. You ended up at a small motel on the edge of town, paying cash for a room that barely had any light, just a bed with thin sheets and an old TV on a dresser. The emptiness of the room felt like it mirrored the hollow ache in your chest.

You set your bag down on the bed, letting out a sigh as you sank onto the edge, staring at the wall as thoughts of Bucky washed over you in waves. Images of him smiling, his quiet laughter, the way he’d hold your hand when no one else was around—all of it clung to you, heavy and unrelenting.

Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts to his name, thumb hovering over it. You knew he wasn’t waiting for your call; he’d made that clear. But part of you, the part that still remembered what it felt like to be wrapped in his arms, wanted him to pick up, to tell you this was all just a mistake.

Instead, you tossed the phone aside, burying your face in your hands as tears began to fall. You wanted to scream, to do anything that would make this feeling go away. The anger, the heartbreak, the deep sense of loss—the betrayal it all felt like it was crushing you.

The next morning, you took a breath and tried to piece together a plan. If Bucky wanted nothing to do with you, if the team was moving on without you, maybe it was time for you to do the same. You didn’t know how, but you’d figure it out. And maybe, someday, the memories would hurt a little less.

Days turned into weeks, and you managed to stay under the radar. You took on a few odd jobs here and there, avoiding anywhere that felt remotely familiar. You kept your phone turned off most days, keeping a low profile as you tried to settle into a new rhythm.

But at night, alone in that tiny motel room, everything came flooding back. The emptiness, the loss of the life you’d left behind, and the hollow ache that reminded you of the man you’d once thought would be by your side forever. You didn’t wanna feel anything at all anymore.

The motel was your base for now, a temporary haven between jobs. You knew eventually you would have to move but for now the dull hum of a broken fluorescent light above the bed was your only company most nights. You’d buried your old life, the Avengers, and everything you once fought for. Your existence was pared down to survival and the cold efficiency of violence.

You used old contacts from your past—people you’d hoped never to need again. Mercenaries, informants, shadowy figures from the underworld who didn’t ask questions as long as you delivered. And you did. Each contract was a blur, each mission a mechanical task you completed without hesitation or remorse. Slowly you were becoming less of who you were and more of what you were supposed to be before him.

Your skills made you valuable. Assassinations, high-stakes retrievals, contract killings—you took them all. It was work, and it kept you moving. You didn’t feel anything anymore, not the fear, not the guilt, not even the satisfaction of a clean job. You became a ghost, slipping in and out of places, leaving behind a trail of red.

Every kill was precise, methodical. You didn’t stop to consider who your targets were or what they’d done. The moral compass you once clung to was shattered, left in pieces back at the compound. You moved like a machine, your thoughts dulled by the monotony of violence. The whispers of self-destruction were your only companion now.

Weeks blurred into months, the days bleeding into each other. You didn’t follow the news, didn’t check your phone, didn’t want to know what was happening in the world you’d left behind. You didn’t see the press conference Tony had to hold, standing stoic as reporters peppered him with questions about your sudden disappearance.

“Agent Y/N has taken a leave of absence,” he’d said, his voice cool, calculated. “For personal reasons.”

That was all he gave them. No details, no promises of your return. When the questions turned toward your mental health, your stability, Tony’s jaw tightened, and he ended the briefing. Behind closed doors, the team was scrambling, doing everything they could to track you down. But you were a ghost, and ghosts didn’t want to be found.

In the quiet moments between jobs, you sat in the shadows of your rented room, staring at the ceiling. The weight of your kills didn’t register anymore; it was just a tally in your head, numbers climbing higher each week. You didn’t care who you were working for, as long as they paid and kept you busy. The emptiness was consuming, but you welcomed it. It was better than the pain.

You stopped dreaming. Stopped thinking about him, about any of them. The warmth of Bucky’s touch, the safety of his arms around you—it was a memory you refused to let surface. You buried it deep, alongside every other part of yourself that once cared, once felt.

When you weren’t working, you spent your time in dingy bars or cheap motels, drowning in silence. The weight of your solitude was your only companion. You avoided mirrors, avoided looking at the hollow shell you’d become. It didn’t matter anymore. You didn’t matter anymore.

Back at the compound, things weren’t much better. The team was holding together by a thread, every day marked by your absence. They didn’t talk about it openly, but everyone felt the weight of the void you’d left behind. Tony buried himself in his work, throwing up defensive sarcasm whenever your name was mentioned. Steve was more reserved, quiet, his concern etched into every line of his face, his thoughts a constant whirl of guilt, of what if, he was your leader, your friend, your family he should have done better. Natasha, Clint and Sam worked tirelessly to trace your steps, but you were always one step ahead, your trail going cold each time they got close.

Bucky, though—Bucky was a different story. He was unraveling. The stoic front he tried to maintain crumbled more each day. He’d catch glimpses of your room, still left untouched, and it felt like a dagger in his chest. Every lead that turned up empty, every mission he went on without you, only deepened the chasm of guilt and regret.

He didn’t show it around the others, but late at night, when the compound was quiet, he’d sit in the dark, gripping his dog tags as though they could anchor him. He replayed every moment, every word he’d said to you, the pain in your eyes when he told you it was “for the better.” He’d thought he was protecting you, sparing you from a life tethered to his darkness. But all he’d done was push you into your own.

Meanwhile, you continued to slip further into the shadows, your humanity fading with each passing day. The girl who once fought alongside Earth’s mightiest heroes was gone. Now, you were just a weapon, a tool for hire, drowning in blood and regret.

And you didn’t care if you ever came back.

The common room was silent, the atmosphere suffocating. The team sat around the dining table, their plates mostly untouched. It hadn’t been the same since you left—no, since you vanished almost a year ago. Conversations were hollow, laughter a distant memory. Every mission, every meeting, carried the weight of your absence.

Bucky sat at the far end of the table, his eyes fixed on his plate, though he hadn’t touched his food. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the clink of utensils against ceramic as Sam and Natasha picked at their meals. Steve was deep in thought, brows furrowed, while Tony sipped at a cold cup of coffee, his usual bravado long since dulled.

Suddenly, Tony’s tech pad beeped, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he read the data. Without a word, he stood abruptly and made his way to the common room, his pace quick and determined.

“Guys,” he said, voice sharp as he entered, the pad clutched tightly in his hand. The urgency in his tone snapped everyone to attention. “I think we’ve got something.”

The team immediately straightened, all eyes on him. Bucky’s heart lurched in his chest, a flicker of hope and dread surging through him.

“What is it?” Steve asked, his voice steady but tense.

Tony didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tapped on the pad, and a hologram appeared above the table—a blurry snapshot of surveillance footage. The image was grainy, taken in some dimly lit warehouse, but there was no mistaking the figure in the frame.

It was you.

Your hair was shorter, your face leaner and paler than they remembered. Blood spattered your cheeks and clothes, your eyes sharp and cold. You looked like a ghost, hollowed out and deadly, a shadow of the person they once knew.

The room went deadly quiet, the weight of the image sinking in. Natasha leaned forward, her jaw tightening. Sam cursed under his breath, while Steve’s grip on the edge of the table tightened until his knuckles turned white.

“Is there video footage?” Steve asked, his voice low, barely concealing the mix of hope and fear in his tone.

Tony nodded grimly. “FRIDAY, play the video.”

The hologram shifted, and the grainy footage began to play. The scene unfolded in a dingy, run-down warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. Armed men moved through the space, clearly preparing for some sort of deal. But then you appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a wraith.

You were fast, efficient, and terrifyingly calm. Without hesitation, you took out each man with precision—gunshots, blades, hand-to-hand combat. It didn’t matter how many came at you; they all fell. The blood spattered across your face only made your pale skin look more ghostly, more detached from humanity.

What shook them most wasn’t the violence—it was you. Your expression never wavered, your eyes cold and emotionless. It was as if you were on autopilot, a machine programmed to kill. Even when a bullet whizzed past your face, barely missing you and sending a strand of hair flying, you didn’t flinch. You simply moved on to the next target, cutting through them like they were nothing.

Bucky’s stomach churned as he watched. His hands gripped the edge of the table, his breathing shallow. He could barely process what he was seeing. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t the person he’d loved, the person he’d pushed away to protect. This was someone else entirely—a hollow shell, deadly and unrecognizable.

When the video ended, the silence in the room was deafening. Tony rubbed a hand over his face, his usual sarcasm replaced with grim resolve. “That’s the most recent hit we’ve got. It’s from a week ago.”

Steve was the first to speak, his voice strained. “She’s not just surviving out there. She’s… she’s lost herself.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “She’s always been a fighter, but this? She’s not fighting for anything anymore. She’s just… existing.”

Sam shook his head, his voice low. “She didn’t even blink when that bullet came at her. It’s like she doesn’t care if she lives or dies.”

Bucky pushed himself back from the table, standing abruptly. “We need to find her, I got to find her” he said, his voice rough, barely containing the storm of emotions threatening to spill over. “Now.”

Steve nodded, his resolve hardening. “Agreed. We’ve waited long enough.”

Tony tapped on his pad, pulling up a map. “I’ve got the warehouse location. It’s a start, but if she’s smart—and we all know she is—she’s already moved on.”

Natasha stood, her eyes locked on the map. “Then we track her. We use everything we’ve got.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with thoughts of you. The footage replayed in his head, the cold, detached look in your eyes, the way you moved without hesitation or fear. He knew he’d pushed you away to protect you, but now… now it felt like he’d only sent you spiraling further into darkness.

And he wasn’t sure if he could bring you back. But he’d die trying.

The hologram of the warehouse lingered in the air, casting a dull blue glow that accentuated the tension in the room. Tony continued scrolling through surveillance feeds, his movements precise but edged with frustration. No one spoke at first, the weight of your absence hanging over them like a storm cloud.

Sam finally broke the silence, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Where is she even finding out about these deals? She’s not exactly walking into a coffee shop and picking up intel from strangers.”

Clint, seated at the far end of the table, narrowed his eyes, his mind already turning over possibilities. “Maybe old contacts?” His gaze shifted to Natasha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and her face was set in a mask of unreadable tension.

She didn’t look at him immediately. When she did, her eyes were distant, filled with memories she rarely allowed to surface. “Yeah,” she said quietly, almost reluctantly. “That’s likely.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Someone from your Red Room days?”

Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening as she nodded. “Before SHIELD. Before the Avengers.” Her voice was cold, clinical, the tone of someone recounting a story they wished wasn’t their own. “There’s a guy… a fixer. He operated out of Eastern Europe, connected to black market arms deals, high-profile hits, anything illegal you can think of. If she’s working for him now…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

Sam leaned forward, frowning. “Anything you’d like to share with the class, Nat? Because this feels like something we should’ve known before.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, her gaze flickering toward Clint before settling on the table. “Before SHIELD, before Clint and I found her… she was lost. When she escaped the Red Room, she had nothing—no resources, no one to turn to. This guy took her in, gave her jobs, gave her a reason to keep moving. But it wasn’t a life. It was survival, barely.”

Clint leaned in, his voice lower now, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile truths being unearthed. “She was in deep. Mercenary work, hits, anything he wanted. She carried everything she owned in a backpack. She was running on scraps and rage. And the person she was back then compared to the one we know now…” He shook his head. “Night and day.”

Natasha’s expression darkened. “She was like a machine. On autopilot. He kept her that way with modified Red Room mind control.” Her voice softened, though her words cut like a blade. “Not enough to erase her, but just enough to suppress doubt, hesitation. Enough to make her compliant.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Bucky, standing slightly apart from the others, stared at the hologram of your face, his jaw clenched. His chest ached, a sick mixture of guilt and disbelief twisting in his gut.

Tony’s voice broke the quiet. “That wasn’t in her file.”

Natasha smirked bitterly. “Of course it wasn’t. Fury redacted it. He thought it would protect her if it ever came up.”

Clint’s voice dropped further, the weight of the memory heavy in his tone. “When Nat and I got her out, it was like detoxing someone from a drug. She fought us every step of the way. We had to tie her down to keep her from running back to him.”

Natasha nodded grimly. “She didn’t sleep, didn’t eat unless we forced her to. She was reciting mission protocols in her sleep like she was still under their control. It took months to bring her back to herself. And even then…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Even then, it was fragile.”

Steve’s eyes shifted to Bucky, whose hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Buck, did she ever tell you any of this?”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged slightly, his face shadowed with pain. He shook his head, his voice hoarse. “No. Not like that.” He paused, swiping a hand over his face as he blinked away tears he couldn’t stop. “She… she never pushed me to talk about my past. She let me open up in my own time, my own way.” He let out a shaky breath. “I thought… I thought she’d do the same eventually. And she did, bits and pieces. But it was always vague, like she didn’t want me to see just how bad it was.”

He looked back at the hologram, the image of your face burning into his mind. “She risked her life for me, over and over again. And I didn’t even know the extent of what she’d been through.” His voice cracked. “She deserved better than that.”

“And now,” Natasha said softly, her eyes fixed on him, “she’s back in it.”

Bucky’s head dropped, his fists clenching as he whispered, “Maybe worse this time. She’s not just surviving—she’s destroying herself. And it’s my fault.”

“Buck,” Steve said gently, but Bucky shook his head.

“I thought I was protecting her,” Bucky said, his voice louder now, trembling with emotion. “I thought pushing her away would keep her safe. But all I did was push her right back into the darkness she fought so hard to escape.”

Natasha’s voice softened further, though it carried an edge of warning. “If she’s with him again, he won’t hesitate to use that mind control on her. And if he has… there’s no telling how far she’ll go before she burns out.”

Tony paced, rubbing his temple. “We need to find this guy. Shut him down. If she’s working for him, she won’t stop until someone makes her.”

Steve straightened, his face hardening with resolve. “Then we find him. Find out where he’s operating now.”

Clint nodded, pulling out his tablet. “I can dig up some old intel. He moved a lot, but if he’s still running the same kind of jobs, I can find a pattern.”

Natasha glanced at Bucky, her tone quieter now. “We find him, and we find her. But she’s not coming back willingly, Bucky.”

Bucky lifted his head, his eyes dark and resolute. “I don’t care how far gone she is. She’s still in there, and I’m not giving up on her.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “She has to be.”

Tony tapped the screen again, zooming in on the hologram of your face. “Then we better move fast. Because from the looks of it, she’s already gone too far.”

The team exchanged grim looks, the unspoken weight of what lay ahead settling over them. For Bucky, though, there was no hesitation. No doubt. He would bring you back, no matter what it took.

The quinjet hummed softly as it cut through the night sky, a stark contrast to the tension filling the cabin. The team was locked in silent focus, each member mentally preparing for what they might find at their destination. Natasha sat at the controls, her face unreadable, though her grip on the steering controls was tighter than usual. Clint was beside her, reviewing maps and old intel on the fixer, his expression grim.

Bucky sat alone, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. His metal hand flexed and clenched rhythmically, the only outward sign of the storm raging inside him. His thoughts churned relentlessly, replaying every moment since the breakup, every mission where he’d chosen to keep his distance, every chance he had to reach out and didn’t.

Steve, seated across from him, finally broke the silence. “We’ll get her back, Buck,” he said quietly, his voice steady but reassuring. “She’s still in there. We’ll bring her home.”

Bucky didn’t look up, his jaw tightening. His voice was low, almost a whisper. “And what if we don’t?” His eyes flicked up to meet Steve’s, and they were filled with a raw vulnerability that Steve hadn’t seen in years. “What if she’s too far gone, Steve? I thought I was protecting her, keeping her safe by pushing her away. But all I did was shove her right back into the darkness.”

Steve sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You did what you thought was right. You were trying to protect her from getting hurt.”

Bucky let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “And now she’s out there, risking her life every day because I made her believe she wasn’t worth saving.” He paused, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t bring her back. If she’s too far gone…Steve if we cant get her back….”

Steve reached out, placing a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She’s not gone, Buck. She’s still in there. We’ve seen her come back from worse, and she’s stronger than you think.”

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. “I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me. Hell, I’m not sure I can forgive myself.”

Natasha’s voice cut through the cabin, calm but commanding. “We’re coming up on the last known location of the fixer. This isn’t a guarantee, but it’s our best shot.” She glanced back at Bucky, her expression softer than usual. “You’ll get your chance to fix this, Barnes. But you have to be ready. She’s not the same person you knew.”

Bucky nodded, his resolve hardening. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do whatever I have to.”

The quinjet began its descent, the lights of a small, industrial city coming into view below. Natasha expertly landed on the outskirts of the city, near an abandoned factory that matched the coordinates from her old intel. The team geared up quickly, their movements efficient and quiet.

As they approached the factory, Clint pulled up the blueprints on his tablet. “Looks like a standard setup—main entrance, back exit, and a few access points on the roof. If he’s still using this place, he’ll have guards posted. We’ll have to go in quiet.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ll take point with Clint. Steve, Bucky, cover the rear. Sam, Tony you’re our eyes in the sky.”

Bucky didn’t say a word as they moved into position, his focus entirely on the task ahead. His grip on his rifle was tight, his breathing controlled. But inside, his mind raced with what they might find.

As they entered the factory, the air was thick with dust and the faint smell of oil and metal. The sound of distant machinery hummed through the walls, but the place seemed otherwise deserted.

Clint scanned the area with his thermal scope, whispering, “Two guards up ahead, near the control room.”

Natasha nodded, and within moments, the guards were taken out silently, their bodies crumpling to the floor without a sound. The team moved deeper into the facility, tension building with every step.

Finally, they reached the main floor—a vast, open space filled with crates and scattered equipment. And there, in the center of the room, was a man seated at a desk, his back to them.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “That’s him.”

The fixer turned slowly, as if he’d been expecting them. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. He smiled, a cold, predatory grin. “Well, well. The Avengers. What an unexpected pleasure.”

Bucky stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. “Where is she?”

The fixer chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Ah, you must mean out little shadow, our ghost. Quite the asset, isn’t she? A real work of art, that one.”

Bucky’s fists clenched, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Where is she?” Steve demanded.

The fixer sighed, feigning boredom. “She comes and goes as she pleases. I simply provide the opportunities. She’s quite effective, you know. Doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t question. Just like old times.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gun trained on him. “What have you done to her?”

The fixer’s smile widened. “Only what she wanted. She came to me, broken and desperate. I gave her purpose, focus. She’s free now, free from all those messy emotions that held her back.”

Bucky’s voice shook with rage. “You didn’t free her. You turned her into a weapon.”

The fixer shrugged, unbothered. “She’s exactly where she wants to be.”

Bucky stepped forward, his voice deadly calm. “And where’s that?”

The fixer’s grin faltered for the first time. “You’ll never find her. She doesn’t want to be found.”

Bucky’s eyes burned with fury, but before he could move, Natasha pulled the trigger, shooting the fixer in the leg. He cried out, clutching his wound as he glared up at her.

“Where. Is. She?” Natasha repeated, her voice ice-cold.

The fixer coughed, blood dripping from his mouth as he chuckled weakly. “She’s already gone. But you’ll find her soon enough. If she wants you to.”

The quinjet touched down silently on the outskirts of the city. The team disembarked quickly, weapons drawn and senses on high alert. The abandoned office building loomed ahead, its shattered windows and graffiti-covered walls a testament to its long-abandoned state. Inside, though, it was anything but empty.

Tony’s voice was a low murmur as he held up his tech pad, showing the heat signatures inside. “Multiple targets on the top floor. Armed, moving in formation. Y/N’s in there, too.”

“Looks like another hit,” Natasha said grimly, her eyes scanning the building. “She’s taking out another crew.”

Bucky clenched his fists, his jaw tight. “We’re not letting her walk out of here alone.”

Natasha nodded, her voice steady. “Stay focused. We get in, neutralize the situation, and bring her back.”

The team moved as one, slipping into the building and making their way up the crumbling stairwell. The sound of muffled voices and footsteps echoed from above, the tension rising with every step. When they reached the top floor, they could hear it clearly now—the sharp commands, the clink of weapons, and then, suddenly, a scream cut short.

Tony raised his hand, signaling them to stop. He brought up the thermal view on his pad. “She’s already started.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as they crept toward the open doorway. From their vantage point, they could see you in the center of the room, moving with deadly precision. You were a blur of efficiency, taking out the armed men one by one, each movement calculated and lethal. Blood spattered across the floor and walls, and your face, but you didn’t falter.

The last two men in the room scrambled to take aim at you, but you were faster. You disarmed one with a quick twist of his wrist, driving a knife into his chest without so much as a flicker of emotion. The final man backed away, terror in his eyes as he aimed his gun at you, his hands trembling.

Before he could pull the trigger, you grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. His struggles were futile, and the sound of his choked gasps filled the air.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice rang out, desperate and raw, cutting through the chaos.

You froze, your grip tightening on the man’s throat as your eyes snapped to Bucky. For a moment, the room seemed to stand still. The team watched, their weapons drawn but hesitating, waiting to see what you would do.

You stared at Bucky, your face blank, eyes devoid of the warmth they once held. Slowly, deliberately, you tightened your grip, and without breaking eye contact with him, you snapped the man’s neck with a sickening crack. His lifeless body fell to the floor with a thud.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bucky took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. “Doll,” he said again, his voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

You stood there, blood splattered across your face, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Your eyes flicked over the rest of the team—Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, and Tony—all standing ready, but hesitant to make a move.

The room was suffocatingly silent, the air thick with tension as you stood amidst the bodies of the men you’d just killed. You looked at them—at all of them—as if they were nothing more than an inconvenience. Your once-bright eyes were now cold, lifeless, your pupils blown wide, a sharp contrast to the dim light of the room.

Sam was the first to break the silence. “Her pupils are huge,” he said, his voice low, uneasy. “That’s not normal.”

Natasha’s face tightened. She took a step forward, speaking in Russian, her tone steady but filled with quiet authority. “Ты идешь со мной, младшая сестра. (You’re coming back with me, little sister.)” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Ты сделаешь это легко или трудно? (Are you going to make this easy or hard?)”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you nudged the last man’s lifeless body with your foot, shoving him out of your way with a detached, almost bored expression. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice flat, emotionless.

“ Трудно(Hard).”

Steve sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Are we really doing this? All of us, against her?”

Natasha didn’t break her gaze from you. “No. Just me.” She reached for her baton, switching it on with a low hum of electricity. “Let me try.”

Clint, standing off to the side, silently switched the arrow in his quiver to one tipped with a sedative, his fingers steady but ready. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were locked on you, his movements precise and deliberate like he’d done this before, which of course he has.

Natasha stepped forward slowly, her baton raised but not yet striking. She muttered under her breath, almost to herself, “Дежавю. (Déjà vu.)” Then, in a softer tone, she added in Russian, “Я тебя люблю. (I love you.)”

The words didn’t even register. You moved without hesitation, launching yourself at her with lethal precision. Your first strike was a blur, and Natasha barely had time to block it with her baton. But you were faster, stronger, and more relentless than she remembered. Within seconds, you had her on the defensive, your blows landing harder and faster than she could counter.

Natasha grunted as you landed a kick to her side, sending her stumbling. “Something’s off,” she groaned, clutching her ribs as she stood. “You’re stronger than before.”

Bucky had been standing on the sidelines, his fists clenched, watching you tear through Natasha with ease. His heart broke with every blow you delivered. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward, his voice cracking slightly.

“Sweetheart, please,” he said, his voice filled with desperation. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You turned toward him, your face still expressionless, and in one swift motion, you pulled a knife from your belt and hurled it at him. Bucky’s reflexes kicked in, and he caught the blade mid-air, but the force of the throw pushed him back a step.

He dropped the knife, his hands raised in a defensive posture. “I’m not going to fight you,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes. “But I’m not letting you hurt anyone else.”

You didn’t hesitate, launching yourself at him. Bucky blocked every strike, his movements precise, never once retaliating. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you gave him no choice but to defend himself.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted over his shoulder as he deflected another of your attacks. “It’s the serum! She’s got some kind of super-soldier serum!”

Steve’s eyes widened, his grip tightening on his shield. Sam glanced at Clint, who still had his bow drawn. “Will that sedative arrow even work on her if she’s got the serum?”

Clint shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

He loosed the arrow, and it flew toward you, but you moved faster than expected, catching it mid-air. The tip still grazed your arm, injecting just enough of the sedative to make you falter slightly. You wobbled for a second, your movements sluggish, but it wasn’t enough to stop you. You turned the arrow back around, flinging it directly at Clint with lethal precision.

Steve’s shield flew through the air just in time, blocking the arrow before it could hit Clint. The sound of metal striking the arrowhead echoed through the room, but before anyone could make another move, Tony stepped forward, his repulsor glowing.

“This is enough,” Tony said, his voice cold and decisive. He raised his hand, preparing to knock you out.

But before he could fire, Natasha, now back on her feet, grabbed a heavy metal pole from the wreckage around them. She moved quickly, her face set with grim determination.

You turned back toward Bucky, ready to swing at him again, your eyes still filled with that cold, mechanical focus. But Natasha was faster. She swung the pole with all her strength, aiming for the side of your head.

The impact was immediate. Your eyes widened briefly before your body went limp, collapsing to the floor in an unconscious heap.

The room was silent except for the sound of everyone’s heavy breathing. Bucky dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he gently cradled your head.

Natasha dropped the pole, her chest heaving as she looked down at you, a mixture of relief and sorrow in her eyes. “Я сожалею, сестра. (I’m sorry, sister.),” she whispered softly.

Steve stepped forward, his shield still in hand. “Let’s get her back to the jet. We’ve got work to do.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #james barnes x you #james barnes imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky banres #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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pleasantinternetperson · 12 hours ago

Text

In the end, he's always drawn back to her.

---

The aftermath of the battle is terrible.

There are bodies littered everywhere, glassy-eyed and unseeing.

And he is nos stranger to it, to the terrible presence of death, but it-

It still hurts.

---

Vi's screams will haunt him to his dying day.

Her grief is so raw and angry he has to look away, and the words that spill from her lips over and over as she clutches at the ledge are ones he has thought countless times.

It's not fair it's not fair IT'S NOT FAIR-

He knows what happened.

(She's-)

(How-)

(How can she be-)

(After everything-)

(Just like that?)

---

Ekko is the one who hauls Vi to safety before the beam collapses.

She's quiet. Numb, he thinks.

A part of him wants to stay with her.

But he can't. He can't stay here another second or he's sure he won't be able to take one more breath.

(She's really gone-?)

(Jinx?)

(...Powder?)

---

For the first time in his life, the undercity is quiet.

He doesn't even notice, not really, until much later.

He walks through the streets and sees everything Zaun could've been.

He sees Mylo and Claggor in the shadowed corners of their old haunts.

He sees Vi teaching him how to throw a punch in every crack of a wall.

He sees Benzo in the window of every run-down shop of wares.

He sees Vander in the wreckage of The Last Drop.

And everywhere, everywhere, he looks, he sees her.

---

He doesn't know how many times he stops her from detonating the bomb.

Her eyes look so empty.

And it breaks him inside that this girl who used to be so full of life wanted nothing more to do with it after the world took everything from her.

She has caused so much pain and suffering, has continued the cycle of violence by those left before them.

She's well within her rights to want to leave.

But he knows for a fact there's a life where things could be better.

There's a life out there where Zaun thrives because of her.

There's a life where she's happy.

And he'll be damned if he can't make that life a reality, no matter how many times he needs to turn back the clock.

She traces the edge of her bomb, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Just let me die."

He stands.

Her grip tightens.

"No."

She scoffs, though there's no real heat to it.

"Why do you care?"

Because he doesn't want this to be the end for her. Because he knows she can do so much more. Because even under all the anger and pain and grief that makes her now, there's still a chance for her to be that girl from another world.

Because he might just have fallen in love with her.

But most of all-

"Because you're worth saving."

---

He ends up making a mural for her in her workshop. There are many that pop up all over the undercity once the news gets around but...

This one is for him.

To remember her not as the tragic hero who managed to unite Zaun, but for his friend who died.

(He could've saved her.)

The Z-Drive looks up at him darkly whenever this thought comes over him, and his fingers twitch over the dials.

But he doesn't do it.

He sees Heimerdinger's face every time he does.

---

Vi comes to see the mural.

He lights flickering candles and has some of her leftover bits and bobs all over the place - a monkey head here and an old tool there.

He's drawn pictures of her from when they were young, from when they grew apart and puts on paper what he imagined she would've looked like older.

And tucked away in a small corner is the drawing of what she looked like in that other world.

That's the one that draws her sister's attention.

Vi's fingers ghost over the pencil lines, almost reverent.

"...I would've loved to see her like this."

Ekko sighs, not looking at her as he runs a hand through his hair.

His eyes land on a drawing of Powder and Vi, arms looped around each other, young and bright-eyed and joyous.

"Yeah. You would've."

---

Another part of him died with her, he thinks.

Because he knows that grief never really goes away.

It leaves him gasping for air at night and reaching for someone who isn't there when his own mind taunts him with all the what-ifs, and could've been.

Sometimes it leaves him with the memory of her lips pressing against his own, her fingers on the side his face gently.

He hates those ones most.

---

(But really, he'd give anything for the chance to do it again.)

---

What gets to him the most is that he could've saved everybody.

If he had been smarter, of he had figured out faster none of this would've happened.

And the thought crashes into him so hard and fast sometimes, and leaves him with a rage that makes him want to hit anything in sight it makes him sick to his stomach he almost destroys her mural.

He yells and screams and grieves for everyone he's lost, this boy saviour who took the world upon his shoulders.

And at the last second, just as he has his weapon ready to ruin everything, realization rushes through him and he falls to his knees.

She looks at him through the drawings, frozen and smiling.

Finally, he sobs.

I could've saved you.

---

It gets better. Eventually.

He helps with clean-up efforts in the undercity, travels up topside on occasion when Vi needs a hand with something, but sticks to himself for the most part.

While he's helping clear another fallen building a pair of kids bump into him. They're young, and only laugh for a second at their mishap before rushing off again.

He hopes they can live like that for the rest of their childhood.

He wants to make sure they can.

---

It takes a while before he goes up to the rooftop. Their rooftop.

When the grief isn't a raging, alive thing inside his chest anymore and settles deep inside of him instead.

He takes a seat in the edge, and lets his leg dangle in the air.

He breathes in.

(I could've saved you.)

It's recurring thought, now. Always in the back of his mind.

(I could've saved you.)

In another world, there was a happy ending. He hopes.

In another world, there isn't years of resentment and death and violence between them.

In another world he takes her to a party where they dance their hearts out and have the time of their lives.

In another world, they are sitting up here, and he kisses her first.

(I could've saved you.)

Ekko breathes out.

He lets the thought go.

(I'm sorry I couldn't save you.)

(I wanted to.)

(I really did.)

He hopes that wherever she is now she's happy. Or simply at peace, and able to rest from the life she's had.

And something in him feels a little bit lighter.

---

Later, when he gets back to the workshop, something catches his eye near the mural.

A piece of paper, gently blowing in the wind, trapped under a rock.

It's curiosity, more than anything, that leads him to pick it up. It seems too deliberately placed.

Unfolding it, Ekko keeps an eye on his surroundings in case this is somebody's idea of a trap, one hand around his weapon.

Then his heart drops.

It's a map.

And there are bright, colourful lines, squiggles, doodles-

A marked 'X' not too far beyond Piltover, and a message written beside it in haphazard fashion.

(It-)

(It can't-)

(She's-)

(Is she-?)

(Jinx-)

(...Powder?)

You gonna pay me a visit, boy saviour?

#timebomb #arcane #ekko #jinx #vi #guys i literally cant theyre driving me INSANE #WTF WAS EPISODE SEVEN #FLIPPING AU MATERIAL FOR YEARS TO COME #anyways ill never shut uo about these two #we won but at what cost

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katasstrophy · 2 years ago

Note

isagi brain juice ! enjoy this lil sneak peek of what i’m working on (isagi’s lowk a dick here but we humble him, but then we get humbled back ) —

isagi knew you were moody. it was something he disciplined himself to be patient for and he prided himself in being able to handle your mood swings. but right now he’s just trying to think of a way to not let his veins pop out of frustration.

“you’re being dramatic, i told you it was my fault already!” isagi frowned, his index and thumb rubbing the temples of his forehead to soothe the little headache forming.

“if you know it’s your fault then why aren’t you apologizing?” scoffing at his eye roll you pause your cleaning on the countertop and cross your arms at him, foot tapping in annoyance.

“because YN you should know that practice is irregular— if you’d told me that your parents were coming over earlier i’d have asked for a day off!”

gritting your teeth in anger you walked up to the man and rivaled his glare with your own, temper flaring at his ignorance. “yoichi i don’t want to have to hear that bullshit excuse from you ever again because like you, i’m also an athlete and i have better time management than blue lock’s so called hero.”

letting out a huff of anger isagi throws his head back and feels his patience thrown out the window. any self control he had before was now gone.

“just because you have better time management doesn’t mean shit to me YN. you don’t need an ego for your sport, i do. my career literally depends on me and my confidence to kick the ball. so sorry if i don’t have time to play house with you.”

before isagi could walk away you made sure to grab the silver necklace he wore- the one with your initials on it and drag him down to you height— eyes flaring in anger, and with a low voice you whisper in his ear as your words trembled in anger. “ don’t take it out on me that you don’t have the balls to kick a fucking football isagi yoichi. just because you’re too pussy to consistently keep an ego doesn’t mean you can disrespect our relationship.” grabbing his jaw firmly you make the blue eyed boy look into your eyes, making sure his line of vision was focused on you. “unlike you yoichi i’m not a dog to ego. following his orders to a T. why don’t you just wear a collar with his name on it? that way when he wants to go on a walk he can just strap a leash on you whenever he pleases.”

laughing to yourself you release his necklace and began to walk away— but not before isagi grabs the back of your shirt and drags you back to him, his arms harshly man-handling you to lay on the table, pinning yours against smooth surface as he let out a growl of frustration.

“you’ve gotten mouthy ever since you landed a spot on the national team YN. i recommend to think before you speak because i’ll make sure you never say that shit to me again.” he seethed.

pressing your arms harder onto the surface he felt himself smirk at your whimper.

“if i’m a dog then you’re my bitch. remember that pretty.”

the way i’ve been hogging this all too myself like a professional hoarder literally WHAT THE FUCK KAYLA i can’t keep going on like this. like WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT WHOOOOO ALLOWED YOU TO ASSULT MY EYEBALLS WITH THIS TOE CURLING DRABBLE???? the audacity. no consideration for my wellbeing and sanity ABSOLUTELY NONE ZERO hope ur ready to cover my medical bills bc i have permanent asthma from wheezing so hard while reading this i am NOOTTTT OKAAYYY SCREECHING TEARING MY HAIR OUT

where do i even START you’ve been feeding me ur angry isagi agenda for a while now BUT THIS IS NEXT LEVEL CAUTION HOT MIGHT BURN SCALDING …. i will quite literally never get tired of readers being just as much IF NOT MORE of an asshole especially when it comes to bllk boys like ,,,, YES BBIE BE NASTY AND DEPRAVED AND A MASSIVE JERK WITH ANGER ISSUES i want every blue lock guy ever to go “is my type insane women??? hot” i’m foaming at the mouf coochie weeping

AND BOY DID YOU DELIVVEERRRRRR. like the argument here is so insane(ly sexy). they went off so hard the clap backs??? i gasped out loud it was vicious instant hit call the firemen for that type of first degree burn kinda insults. reader grabbing ISAGI’S CHAIN WITH HER INITIALS TO BRING HIM TO EYE LEVEL what if i came what then. there’s just so much audacity and tension bc they’re both pro athletes.

“if i’m your dog then you’re my bitch. remember that pretty.” THIS TOOK ME OUUTTTT LOORRDDD. the contrast of bitch and pretty like yeah he’s gonna hate fuck the shit out of you on the kitchen counter but ur still his pretty baby he’s obsessed with you.

#the image of isagi with a collar….. will never leave my mind now fuckfuck IM GONNA NUT PLSSSS #get big pro player isagi all subby for you while yanking on his collar with ur name bc he missed another visit with ur parents :(((( </3333 #first time he took his anger out on you and you were left screaming his name but now it’s your turn #THIS IS FOUL THIS IS CRIMINAL KAYLA WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TODAY AM I SUPPOSED TO GO ABOUT MY DAY NOW LIKE EVERYTHINGS NORMAL NAAUUURRR STOP #THIS MADNESS IMMEDIATELY I WILL COMBUST #someday…… i will get you back #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #lame bf isagi <3 #—my dearest<3 (kayla)#—riv.favs!

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greengoblinswifey · 7 days ago

Text

Redemption— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you’re taken by Groff’s accomplices and you’re ex Rafe Cameron appears to save you unexpectedly. your past is full of pain but he’s determined to make things right.

warnings— ex to lovers, kidnapping, arguing, slight manipulation and coercion, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, choking, ass slapping, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe hadn’t planned on being part of the treasure hunt again, but when he heard about the Groff connection and Sarah dragging you into it, he couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t about the money this time—though he wouldn’t say no to a cut or possibly stealing it for himself—it was about you. Despite everything, he still cared deeply, even if he didn’t show it the way you deserved.

Your relationship had ended months ago, crumbling under the weight of his issues and the way he treated your friends. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see him again even during the trip. But when he found out you’d been kidnapped by Groff’s men, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t think straight until he had you back.

When he first showed up to give his help, your cold glare hit harder than any insult. “You shouldn’t be here, Rafe,” you’d said flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He tried to explain himself, but you cut him off. “I don’t trust you, not after everything. You treated my friends like garbage, and you don’t get to come in now and play the hero.”

“I’m not here to play the hero,” he’d said, voice low, almost pleading. “I’m here for you.”

But there was no time to dwell on old wounds. Chaos erupted, and by the time the dust settled, he’d saved you from Groff’s accomplices and now you were both hiding out in a grimy motel room.

“You didn’t have to come after me, Rafe,” you snapped, pacing the cramped space. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Especially not from someone who ditched us when we needed him.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned against the door. “You’re seriously saying that to me? You all left me to almost get arrested! Like I was nothing.”

“You were nothing when you couldn’t pick a side!” you fired back, glaring at him.

“I did pick a side,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping. “I picked you. That’s why I’m here.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them undeniable. You scoffed, looking away, but your resolve wavered as he moved closer.

“You think I don’t care?” His tone softened, a crack in his armor. “You think I didn’t lose my mind when I heard they took you? I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you shook your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe’s hand caught your wrist gently, turning you to face him. His gaze burned, the anger and pain in his eyes mirrored in your own. “I’m here now,” he murmured. “Let me prove it.”

You didn’t have time to argue before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, heated, and filled with all the unspoken emotions you’d both buried. Your fingers curled into his shirt as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. The frustration and anger melted into something you couldn’t name, something that felt like it could destroy you both if you let it.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, his lips trailing from your mouth to your neck with a desperation you hadn’t felt in months. You wanted to lose yourself in him, but the anger resurfaced, and you pushed him away, chest heaving.

“I can’t do this, Rafe. Not after how you’ve treated us—how you’ve treated me.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice was soft. “I got a ship for all of you. I stayed civil even after you tied me up. I’m here, trying to prove myself to you. I still want you. I can’t do this without you—I can’t be better without you.”

Your emotions threatened to spill over, but instead of crying or screaming, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. The kiss was fiery, tangled in resentment and longing, as his hands roamed your body again. His lips found your neck, and a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” His hand slid lower, brushing under the fabric of your outfit and finding your pussy. “Well, you’re wet for this piece of shit.” His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers found their way inside.

You gasped, torn between shame and pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Rafe. I can’t stand you.”

“And yet here you are, you’re a slut for liking this,” he whispered against your neck. “Hear how wet you are.”

The heat built unbearably, and you couldn’t stop yourself. As your body betrayed you, the orgasm was laced with mortification. You turned away, unable to meet his gaze, but he just smirked softly. “You can hate me all you want,” he said, his voice a murmur. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He slipped his fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and your tongue swirled over them.

“Good girl,” he chuckled.

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” you snapped, rolling your eyes as Rafe smirked. His hands rested confidently on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I could say the same about you,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing. Before you could retort, he dropped to his knees, silencing you with his actions.

“Don’t,” you started, but the heat of his touch made your words falter.

“Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, as he licked your pussy. Despite yourself, a soft moan escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly, and you could only glare as he gave a satisfied grin.

Rafe’s grip on your hips was firm, his strength keeping you in place despite your squirming. Your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, tugging as whimpers slipped from your lips. His focus didn’t waver, and you felt yourself trembling under his relentless attention.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with a mix of defiance and surrender. But he didn’t stop until your entire body tensed, a soft moan escaping as you reached your peak. He looked up at you afterward, his expression smug and victorious.

Rafe leaned back, a smug grin on his face as he palmed his cock through his pants, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Look how hard you got me, baby,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hand moved slowly, emphasizing his words. “You used to always help me out with this, come on, suck daddy’s cock.”

The nickname made you wince, memories stirring. He saw the hesitation but leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “You know you want to,” he murmured, his gaze challenging, daring you to resist.

Rafe pulled his hard cock out, his size drawing a breathless reaction from you, it looked like he’d gotten bigger, if that was even possible. He chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Come on, baby. Help daddy out,” he coaxed, his tone a mix of command and temptation. Despite your resolve, you felt yourself falter, unable to resist the magnetic pull he always had on you.

Arching your back, your ass high in the air, you leaned down, taking him into your mouth. His groan was instant, his hand finding your waist before he smacked your ass. “That’s my good girl,” he muttered. You rolled your eyes and took him into your warm mouth, bobbing your head at the right pace to have him moaning. You used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth as his balls tightened and his breathing grew ragged. Just as he was about to release, you pulled away.

His laugh was one of disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head, though the amusement never left his eyes.

Rafe’s warm hands moved to your bare thighs, rubbing it slowly as he looked up at you with those blue eyes. He knew it was your weakness. You were already soaked but having him caress you like that practically turned you into a fountain. He had you right where he wanted you.

“My cock really misses that tight, wet pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah? Well if you want to fuck me, you’re gonna have to beg,” you retorted.

Rafe let out a mocking chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe those words left your lips. His little baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.

“Seems like we’ve been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten, Rafe Cameron doesn’t fucking beg.”

He snaked his hand around your neck, pulling you into a heated, rough kiss. Your tongues slipped into each other’s mouth, the feeling one that made you melt. He pushed you onto the bed by your neck and took his position above you.

“You’ve also forgotten that this is my pussy and I saved you, I’ve fucking earned it,” he said, with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Everyone had their weakness, for Sarah it was John B, for Pope it was Cleo and for you— well, it was Rafe Cameron.

You spread your legs and he smirked, resisting to make a snarky comment as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He placed it on your clit, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him.

“Please,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to have him plunge his cock inside you,

“Look who’s begging now,” he said, darkly.

He lifted your legs around his waist and you locked them as he sank into your pussy. His hips bucked and his pace faltered as he had to slowly push in and wait for you to adjust to his size.

“So tight f’me, glad no one’s been inside this pussy since we broke up.”

You gave him a slight push on the chest but your attack was halted as he thrusted into you all the way. Your jaw fell slack as you gasped for air feeling him fill you to the brim.

“S’okay baby, just breathe, daddy’s here,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your lips.

He began rutting steadily inside you, whispering little praises that made your stomach flip. You wouldn’t admit it but a part of you missed having him above you like this. By now he had taken off his shirt, revealing the muscle underneath and the sweat glistening on his body. You ground against him, your clit getting the stimulation you desperately craved and sending pleasure through you.

“Oh God, daddy,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts faster.

“You gonna cum baby? That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured.

Rafe’s pace sped up, hitting the sweet spot inside you as your release hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, your legs shaking as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

“Good girl, there she is,” he cooed, “I knew you wanted this too.”

“M-more,” you managed to croak out.

“Oh my baby wants more? You want daddy to fuck you even more? What a dirty little slut.”

He complied with your request, flipping you swiftly onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to him. You arched your back the way you knew he liked it and he kissed your ass before rubbing his cock along your folds.

“God baby, did I mention how much I missed this wet pussy?”

He slammed into you from behind, gripping your waist as he brought you back onto his cock, hard. Your ass clapped against him and he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside you and came out covered in your cream and juices.

“Daddy,” you moaned, shamelessly as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had on that smug look and you gasped as he pressed your face into the pillow, pounding into you at a deeper angle.

“You really like that huh, fuck, your pussy is just gripping my cock so well baby, cum for daddy, cream all over my cock.”

He slapped your ass, basically giving you the go ahead as you shuddered under his touch, his name leaving your lips continuously as you creamed all over his cock. Unable to stop himself, he stilled inside you, his load spurting as he moaned your name and you felt his dick throb against your walls.

He rolled over, pulling out of you but not before spreading your ass to watch his cum drip out.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you were doing with your life. You were in a random motel in Morocco and you hooked up with your ex after he saved you from kidnappers, meanwhile your friends were probably out looking for you, worried sick.

“Uh, we should go, they’re probably looking for me,” you sighed, getting up. He took a piece of cloth and wiped between your legs. Silence fell between you but oddly, it was a comfortable silence. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. He really did come for you and was actually trying to change and do right by you all.

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specsthesecond · 4 months ago

Text

Hate sex with a werewolf would be so hot.

The whole time you're fucking it's so primal and heated. You bite, grab, wrestle, pull and push each other. Snarling the occasional insult in-between heavy moans and frantic breaths.

When he finally thrusts his knot all the way in; your whole body seizes up, you grip his shirt so hard your fingers burn, eyes squeezed shut as a silent scream leaves you.

He grabs your face and presses you further into the mattress, he doesn't have the brain capacity to form actual words in that moment but you know what he wants just from how he's glaring at you.

He wants you to look him in the eyes while he pumps your womb fill, fucking bastard. If you were the type to back down easily you wouldn't be in this situation right now so you accept his challenge with vigor.

You tug harder on his shirt pulling him down so his face is inches away from yours. You look him in his animalistic eyes as you clench your walls around his fat knot. He snarls out in both pain and pleasure, the need to cum is so overwhelming, his thrusts get sloppy and even more erratic. His hot heavy breaths mix with your own as you both pant heavily, never breaking the heated eye contact as you both finally climax.

Thrust after thrust, he pumps his hot cum into your cunt. The werewolf above you pants heavily letting his drool fall to your cheek. You break eye contact to glance at his sharp canines, the same ones that have pierced your skin many times before. He brings his hand to wipe the spit off your cheek, making you look back into his pretty eyes.

Before you can decipher what exactly you see in them, he rolls over bringing you along so that you're lying on his chest.

Now comes the least favourite part of the whole ordeal: waiting for his knot to go down. After the first time, you both tried to separate too early and that ended up hurting both of you and just made him more swollen, meaning it took even longer to deflate.

You hate this part, you really do. Now you're forced to stay as close to each other as physically possible. Forced to feel his breaths even out and hear his heart beat as you lay your head on his chest. Forced to endure the silence that always follows, after all your anger and lust has dissipated and all that's left is calm breathing and the shuffling of sheets.

He's so damn warm, his warmth covers you inside and out. He complains every time about being too hot and sweaty yet doesn't make an effort to push you away from his chest. Likewise, you always complain about the bruises he leaves on your hips but you never slap his hands away when he lightly rubs the sore area.

You're just passing the time until his knot goes down though, totally nothing else happening. Don't even worry about it haha.

˖⋆࣪ ִֶָ☾.*

#monster fucker #i may have cooked again besties #monster x human #monster x reader #exophelia #monster fucking #monster lover #terato #monster boyfriend #fem!reader #werewolf x reader #werewolf

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seungfl0wer · 3 months ago

Text

*𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Dom!Chan, Brat!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, CreamPie, Degrading, Mentions Of multiple rounds, Studio Sex, P in V, Sir Used, Slightly proofread.

You can find this beautiful request (here)

-🖤

You had been testing Chans patience all day today, but what broke the straw was you getting a little too handsy with Changbin. You were sitting in the studio with Chan when Changbin had come into grab something. Somehow you ended up feeling his muscles making him all blushy. When Changbin left for the gym Chan shot you a death glare. He was always so patient, way more than he should be honestly. Today though? He had enough.

He got up locking the door, he hovered over you looking down at you. You stared at the ground not wanting to meet his gaze. That gaze, you knew damn well he was done with your bullshit. He sighed loudly before sitting beside you. Yanking you over his lap making you yelp at the suddenness. He laid your body over his lap ass pushed up. He pulled your shorts down with your underwear as you squirmed at his touch.

“Don’t move.” He said in a low voice. “You know the rules, count and do not look away.” He said staring daggers down at you.

You nod only for him to let a quick slap to your ass. “Words.” He said with a growl.

“Yes- sir, I’m sorry sir” you said voice trailing off a bit at the end.

“And what happens if you don’t keep eyes on me or don’t count?” He said rubbing his hand over the area he had slapped.

“Starts over” you all but whimper out looking at him with big doe eyes.

“Good girl” he said softly before letting another slap hit your ass. “Now start counting”

“1” the first (third) slap hard, his hand soothing it a bit before another smack.

“2” you groaned out eyes staring deep into each others gaze.

A few minutes had passed, with a whimper you kept going. “8.” Tears pricked at your face as you blinked the tears away.

“You gonna learn your lesson next time hm? Or are you gonna keep testing my patience.” He said another spank hitting your ass this time harder. The area was red, sensitive and getting sore. He normally did it on both sides but this was a sort of punishment he did when you were really bad.

“M’sorry sir, I didn’t-“ a louder yelp left your lips as another smack connected. “N-nine” you stuttered out.

“You didn’t what? Be a brat all day and then feel up my friend’s arms like a dirty little whore? You didn’t mean to do all that?” His voice was low but also a mocking tone. Another hard smack came down to your ass connecting with the sensitive spot once more.

“10!” You basically screamed. This slap the last one, was hard. Full of all the anger you had made him feel through the day. It stung, it hurt, it sure was gonna bruise. He ran his fingers over your ass looking down at your tear stained face. He spread your legs slightly running his fingers down your folds slowly. The sensation made your body jump, Not expecting it.

“You took your punishment so well, I’m proud” he said voice a bit softer than it had been. The slight pain dying down now you could feel how wet you were. He ran his fingers across your clit before pulling them away. You wanted to whine out but you knew it was a bad idea. So you bit your cheek trying to be good for him.

“Up” he said patting your ass, and you did so. You stared at him while he unbuckled his pants pulling everything down letting his cock slap back against him. He was rock hard, pre cum dripping from his tip. “Over the couch now.” He demanded.

You obeyed taking position, as soon as he made his way behind you he was already pushing into you. He gave you no time. No time to adjust and definitely no time to think. He was pounding into you mercilessly, balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed out. A string of curse words and grunts left his mouth as you moaned below him.

He gripped your hips harshly as his nails dug into the sensitive soft skin. You could feel his cock so deep into you, he was twitching already. He slapped your ass this time on the other cheek before bringing his hands up to wrap around your neck. “Tell me how much of a slut you are, tell me how you were probably bad cause you’re a needy whore and just want my attention. He growled.

“M’need- always need your attention. Always want all of you” he groaned. You could feel your legs becoming jelly. Your cunt squeeze around him. “G’onna cum!” You moaned out spit dripping down your chin.

“Did I say you could? You think you’ve deserve to cum?” He said as he took a chunk of your hair pulling it harshly. Your head came back where he could whisper into your ear. “Think I should let you?” He said almost a chuckle.

“Please sir I’m sorry- I- I’ll behave just- aah” you moaned out. Chan grinned as he pulled out before quickly flipping you over.

“You’re gonna keep eye contact with me until I cum got it? Then maybe I’ll let you cum” he said pushing himself back into you. His pace was fast he was hitting every spot inside you. Your body shook under him, in return making him laugh. “So pathetic” he said as his hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed small circles as he drilled into your eyes never leaving one another’s.

“Sir! Mm fuck- so good- only you. Only you make me feel so good.” You babbled out. You were seeing stars and so was Chan. His high washing over him faster than he thought it would. His cock pumped deep into you as he groaned. Hot liquid filling you to the brim as his movements start to stutter.

“Shit princess” he said he leaned down leaving sloppy kisses to you as he rubbed you clit. “Cum for me princess, I wanna watch you come undone from me” he groaned out. It didn’t take long for you to let go. Gushing all over his long cock as you arched your back.

“Thank you sir” you said panting out. “M’sorry for being bad” you said softly looking up at him.

“I know baby” he coo’d rubbing your head as he came down from his high. A few moments had passed before either of you said anything else, But you were the first one to break the silence.

“Chan” you said softly. “Chan! The recording sound was on! You recorded this whole-“ your eyes went wide looking at him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he just shrugged “maybe I’ll put it in a song” he said smiling at you as you rolled your eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow “attitude back already?” He teased making you pout “no..” you said softly “don’t worry baby I’m not done with this punishment yet, I think I got 2 more rounds in me” he said before kissing you as he wrapped his arms around you. Those 2 rounds? Yeah, turned into 1 more at the studio and 2 more at your house.

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💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something

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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat

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knoxic · 3 months ago

Text

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6

summary: Azriel suspects Elain is his mate, reader is ignored, Rhysand and Cass are protective of reader

wc: 2,3k

warnings: Azriel... self hatred, insecurities

a/n: reader's nickname is Ace but there's no physical descriptions

It started subtly, coming home and not noticing her boyfriend's absence, too tired to notice, waking up to a cold and empty bed, brushing past it thinking Az must have been busy, even though he never mentioned anything. The first time you noticed he wasn't, it hit you like a slap to the face.

A family dinner was scheduled tonight, even though you had dinner with your family all the time, tonight was the only night of the month no one was allowed to miss. Rhysand made sure all of you would be free.

You had woken up early today, before the sun had risen, Azriel not being in bed with you didn't seem weird at all, Az often left the bed before the sun was up, he had trouble sleeping and once he woke it was hard to go back to sleep. After spending some time reading in bed you decided to make breakfast, after washing up you went downstairs, expecting to see containers of food left in the sink but there was none, so either Azriel hadn't eaten when he got home or he didn't come home at all. But again, she brushed it off, he probably had a good reason for it.

After eating breakfast, you went to change into your training clothes, just because it was an off day didn't mean you should skip training. Normally, you used a punching bag to literally beat your stress away but today you weren't even stressed, there wasn't even someone to keep you entertained, so training ended up being just boring.

Again, you came back to an empty home, no signs of your boyfriend. After a few minutes of staring at the walls you decided that perhaps a few hours in Velaris would be exciting, maybe you would visit Feyre's gallery. Walking through the streets is definitely a nice thing, the people passing by know who you are and what you do but still gave you friendly smiles. Watching the children play freely and unbothered made you wonder if, someday, your own children would be doing the same, little Illyrians terrorizing the streets of Velaris.

"Hey! Wasn't expecting you here today." Feyre's voice snapped you out of your daydream.

"Well, I'd rather spend hours looking at your paintings than the blank walls at home." You laughed.

"If that's the case then come with me, I just finished a new one." She slipped her arm through yours and pulled you further into the gallery. Fortunately for your boredom, Feyre had kept you busy the whole day, showing you her new artworks and even making you paint with her.

Hours later you were finally coming home, your feet screamed at you to sit down but you refused to winnow, not wanting to miss out on any new place that might have opened. You were so tired that your mind wasn't anywhere near Azriel, fully focused on resting as soon as you reached home. You only realized you had fallen asleep when the front door banged closed, your boyfriend's scent filling your nose.

"Az?" You sat up rubbing your tense neck, the couch, as comfortable as it was, was not meant for sleeping.

"Yeah, didn't know you were here." He seemed confused and... angry?

"Are you okay?" You slowly made your way towards him but he stepped back, turning towards the stairs.

"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner, don't follow me." And with that he ran up. You took his anger as the result of his work, figuring that something had probably stressed him out.

Your eyes that were still foggy from sleep had finally cleared, allowing you to notice how dark the living room was, it was already night and you had probably slept for a couple hours. When you went up to bathe, you heard a loud bang from your bedroom. Azriel often isolated himself as to not take his anger out on anyone close to him, so you continued walking towards the guest bedroom, washing up in the adjoined bathroom. Only when you were finished did you make your way to your bedroom, the door was fully closed so you opened it carefully, the bathroom door was left open so Azriel was probably downstairs. You dressed up unhurried, taking the time to choose your clothes, fixing your hair and choosing shoes. When you went down, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, you called out to him but received no response, perhaps Rhys had called him?

'Rhys, is Azriel with you?' You asked, praying he would hear you.

'Yes, he said he thought you wouldn't come." Rhys answered, his voice oddly quiet, without its usual confidence. 'Are you two okay?'

'I– Yes? Well, I think so? Did he say anything?' Not once had it crossed your mind that your relationship was the cause of Azriel's stress, were you stressing him? If so, why didn't he say anything?

'Never mind. Are you coming?' Suddenly you weren't sure if you should, maybe Az had gone alone because he didn't want you there. 'Please come...'

Rhys pleaded, scaring you even more. Rhysand never pleaded.

'I don't know,' you were still standing in the middle of the living room, you could just winnow, but would your boyfriend want that? 'Maybe I should stay home tonight–'

'No. It's family dinner, fuck Azriel's dramatic ass, I don't know what's wrong with him but it's not your fault. You're coming, even if I have to go pick you up myself.'

𓂃

"My office, now." Rhysand's growl seemed to vibrate through his bones.

"Rhys–"

"No! Azriel." He walked out of the room, leaving Azriel to stare at his back, Elain kept gazing at him wide eyed. 'Come with me or I'll come to your girl, your choice.' His mind talons not bothering to make a gentle appearance.

Azriel left without looking back, still feeling Elain's gentle gaze following him. His heartbeat ringed in his ear, time seemed to pass by slowly as he walked the corridors to Rhys' office, darkness consuming the corners of every wall. The doors were left open showing his brother's back facing him, as soon as he entered they banged closed, before he said anything, Cassian winnowed beside him.

"What's wrong?" Cassian looked at them both, his hurried voice echoing through the silent room.

"Azriel was kissing Elain." Rhys turned to look at them both, giving Cassian a nod towards Az, his arms crossed against his chest while he leaned against the desk.

"I didn't–"

"You were going to!" Rhysand spat, making Azriel shut his mouth, he couldn't deny it.

"Wait–" Cassian stepped forward, watching as Az lowered his head, gasping when he realized it was true, "No fucking way! Did Ace break up with you?" Azriel's only response was a deep sigh.

"No, she didn't." Rhys answered for him.

"Brother..." Cassian's hand met Az' shoulder, "Why?" He was pissed but needed to know why Azriel was acting like that.

"I think–"

"Huh, you're not even sure." Rhys scoffed, shaking his head.

"I think Elain is my mate."

"What? Az, that's really serious..." Cass spoke softly, almost unsure. "Are you sure?"

"I– No, but it just makes sense!"

"How, Azriel?" Rhysand yelled, stepping closer to him. "How does it make sense? You've known Ace for centuries, been dating her for 80 years, you live with her! I swear I thought you were going to propose to her soon!" His hand met Azriel's sholder, shaking him. Rhys sighed, dropping his head and shoving Az away before turning back to sit on his chair.

"Az," Cassian started, "Does Ace know?"

"No, I don't know how to tell her." Az muttered the last part.

"You'll have to find a way. I don't know why you think Elain is your mate and not her but she deserves to know. Having a mate doesn't necessarily mean you two should be romantically involved, nor should you be anything at all, but it is clear that you're attracted to Elain and that's just... unacceptable."

"Why?" Azriel said exasperated, "Three brothers for three sisters, it just makes sense!" He yelled,banging his hands on Rhysand's desk.

"Are you insane?" Rhys yelled back, standing up from his chair. "You are in a relationship, Azriel! It doesn't matter if it makes sense, be responsible, she's not just a fling you had, you can't push her aside just because your cock gets hard around a pretty female. Ace is your girlfriend, has been for almost a century, the possibility of another female being your mate should not interfere in your relationship with her, it didn't have to. Elain could end up being just a great friend, or even better, Ace could be your mate..."

"If she was my mate, don't you think it would've snapped by now?" Azriel's question didn't really sound like a question.

"Is that all you heard from everything Rhys said?" Cassian looked incredulous.

"Azriel..." Rhysand's patient was slipping away. "I do not know what to say to make you understand–"

"There's nothing to understand, Elain is my mate and I want to be with her."

"Then fucking break up with Ace first!" Darkness crawling their way around them.

"What the fuck, brother?" Cassian yelled, for the first time that morning. "Didn't you learn anything from Mor leading you on all those centuries? You want to be with Elain? Fine, but break up with your girlfriend first. Just know that there's a lot in line here..." Silence enveloped the three of them, tension sitting heavy on their shoulders.

"Leave, go talk to Ace and fix this shit," Rhysand rubbed his temples, "Don't do to her what has been done to you."

𓂃

Azriel spent a few hours flying above Velaris, trying to forget about what had happened, he didn't know what he did wrong or why Rhysand was so upset. He decided to come back and talk with Elain first, then he'd talk with you, but Rhysand's talons scratched his mind walls as soon as he saw her, telling him to stay away from her until he broke up with you. When he got home he was so upset that you were the only thing keeping him from his possible mate, that when he saw you, he would definitely take his anger out on you. You were so relaxed and he was completely the opposite of that, your eyes puffy from sleep while his were bloodshot from the lack of it.

He couldn't stop the sudden hatred that consumed him at hearing your voice, he wasn't sure if it was directed at you or him, he spend the whole day resenting you while you were here worried about him. He couldn't stand the sound of your comforting voice, not while comparing it to Elain's, your eyes searching for his with so much love and he wondered when was the last time he really stared into them.

So he ignored you, he wasn't sure what he had answered you, his whole body aching with stress that he just wanted some form of release. Release that never came, he thought that by the time he finished bathing he'd feel better, but he didn't. Nothing seemed to work, the warm water did nothing to help soothe his muscles, and no matter how much he scratched, he still felt dirty.

Stepping out of the bathroom only angered him further, your scent still lingered even after hours of leaving the bed. Azriel didn't know what he'd do if you talked to him again, didn't know what he'd tell you, if he lied you would know, and if he didn't... you would be hurt.

𓂃

As soon as your eyes focused on the house, you wanted to winnow back home, but Rhys didn't give you a chance to do so. The front door being yanked open made you tear your eyes from the window, where you could see silhouette with wings, the smile your High Lord greeted you with was comforting. He was loyal to his brothers, if you had done something to upset Azriel, he wouldn't be smiling at you like that.

"You came!" He waved his hand, calling you inside.

"Someone threatened me." He laughed at your attempted joke, no humor filling your voice. As you walked closer to him, he pulled you into a hug, it didn't really seem like it was for you, his chin rested on your shoulder like you weren't almost half his size, it was comforting nonetheless. An exaggerated gasp pulled you away from each other's embrace.

"That's like the worse form of betrayal!" Cassian cried out, his hand that was resting on his chest reached out to push Rhysand away. "We could've had a family hug but you were selfish." His strong arms engulfing you into an embrace, lifting you off the ground, he let out a dramatic groan as if it had taken him so much effort to do so.

"Stop it, you're going to squeeze her." Rhys laughed, tapping his brothers shoulder.

"Jealous." Cassian whispered in your ear, making you giggle.

By the time Cassian set you back down, you had forgotten you were worried, if that was Rhysand's intention when he came to greet you at the door, it had worked. You were pulled inside by the hand, Cass gushing about all the things there were for dinner, his groovy voice muffling out a female giggle. The table was set only a few minutes after Cassian had sat her down, his conversation topics never ending. The first time she saw Azriel, he was coming out of the kitchen, right after Elain.

"She needed help with the dessert." Nesta muttered, her voice filled with something she couldn't exactly place. She couldn't dwell on it further, Azriel was looking at her now, his feet glued to the ground. It was clear he really wasn't expecting her to come.

#azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel x you #⛓️࿐𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

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klaus-littlestwolf · 6 months ago

Note

Heyy hiii I love your blog🤍 If you're still taking requests... Could you write an Aemond Targaryen who is obsessed with his half-sister or aunt?

(Fuck yes I can!

For this story the ages are a little off which frustrates me but I did that to make sure that Y/n wouldn’t be considered ‘too old’ to marry. If however, the person who made this request wants something with an older OFC, like a cougar-y kind of story with him obsessed and willing to do anything to have her then let me know and I will try my hand at that for you)

Y/n had been born first just before her mother Aemma had died giving birth her twin brother, who sadly died just a few hours later, leaving Y/n alone.

Rhaenyra took very good care of her, as much as she could as her younger sister was just a babe and now had no mother and no father as Viserys had all but checked out…especially after marrying Alicent and having more children.

Y/n was only just under 1 year older than Aegon as Alicent had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding however as Rhaenyra was having her own children she took care of her sister less and less, leaving the girl on her own a lot of the time. Alicent had taken a liking to the young girl and they were quite close, which is what led to Y/n and Aemond’s relationship in the first place. Aemond loved Y/n from the moment he was born. When he was with her he was always content and happy, but if she left him alone he would cry and scream for her until Alicent could no longer take it and sent for her once again. That lasted until the boy was about 3 and she was 6 and from then on he was basically attached to her skirts.

Neither of the children had a dragon to their name and spent their time dreaming of flying across the 7 kingdoms together. Aemond had always promised to take his half sister with him when he mounted a dragon one day, and though Y/n thought it a nice dream, Aemond was determined to make it come true. He swore to her that one day he would be strong and that he would protect her, no one would ever bully them again. Y/n did not know just how seriously her younger brother took that vow.

He was 9 years old when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone and snatched his happiness away as she took their 12 year old sister with her and it was at that moment that Aemond realized how in love with his sister he really was. She would be his, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

When they met again on Driftmark it was like no time had passed, they stayed by each others side while everyone mourned, but Aemond wasn’t sad, he was determined. With the death of Laena there was now an unclaimed dragon, the largest one alive and he was going to claim her or die trying. To say Y/n was upset that he risked his life to mount Vhagar would be an understatement however he had done it and the pride and happiness on his face wiped away her anger…for about 10 minutes before watching her nephew slice her brothers eye from his head. She held close to his side for as long as she was allowed, holding his hand as the maester stitched him up painfully.

‘I do not wish to frighten you with my scarred face sister, you shouldn’t have to see this.’ He told her later that night as she sat beside his bed to watch over him, the milk of the poppy he had taking quick effect as his good eye began to close against his wishes.

‘You could never scare me brother, you are as handsome as ever and anyone who says otherwise is blind. I will never fear you, no matter what. I love you too dearly.’ She swore, curling up into her chair and drifting off by his side in case he needed anything during the night.

Aemond’s hand held tight to hers all night long, never letting go as if terrified, even in his sleep, that she would disappear.

Aemond was comforted by her words and it is the only thing that got him through the next years. That and the fact that he had “convinced” his sickly father to betroth Y/n to him.

Aemond was told by the men he paid to keep watch over his Princess on Dragonstone that Rhaenyra had been trying to betroth her to Cregan Stark of Winterfell. The Wolf in the North was apparently quite taken with his Princess and Aemond couldn’t blame him, but he would kill him if the man went anywhere near his sister and he made that perfectly clear to his mother and Grandsire. Aemond had vowed that if they didn’t betroth him to Y/n immediately that he would take Vhagar and have her burn Winterfell and every Stark in existence to the ground. He would melt all of the snow in the North if he had to to make his point. Both Alicent and Otto knew that her son was serious and would do exactly as he promised, they also knew that no one could stop Vhagar if Aemond decided to put his threat into action and so they had the King order the marriage.

However other than Rhaenyra acknowledging the order from the King, he heard no word from his betrothed until he was 18 and it was ordered that she return to Kings Landing to be with her soon to be husband. Aemond had kept eyes on her since the day she had been forced to leave him, men that worked for Rhaenyra were secretly under his command, 2 of which became Y/n’s personal guards and wrote the Prince everything about her so that Aemond didn’t miss a thing. He knows all of her interests, what she loves to do everyday, her daily schedule, the foods she likes and more importantly doesn’t like, and he also had them ensure that no man got close to his future wife in anyway. He knew that Jace had an interest in his aunt, the guard reporting to him that the boy had been grounded to his chambers on more than one occasion for watching her bathe or trying to sneak into her rooms in the night and it both enraged and delighted Aemond that Jace wanted his sister but also that he would have to see her happy with the person that Jace hates most. Aemond would ensure that he could rub it in his nephews face that the babes that Y/n would bare would never be anyone’s but his.

Over the years since she had been gone her brother had changed, not just at her having been missing from his side but especially after Aegons actions in taking him to the silk streets on his 13th nameday. Aemond felt disgusting but he was determined to be a better husband than his elder brother was, after all, Y/n was his. His sister, his wife, his everything and he would ensure her happiness. He would make her his and fill her with as many Targaryen babies as possible, Aemond couldn’t wait to see her swollen with his child at his side and in his bed, his elder sister was just too perfect not to be full of his children for the rest of her days.

2 days after the letter was sent to Rhaenyra he was greeted by the sound of huge wings and angry dragon roars as the large black dragon descended on the Red Keep, a dragon that everyone recognized instantly which prompted them scattering like mice. Aemond had heard that his sister had mounted the cannibalistic dragon but to actually see the creature was incredible. He found it funny that his sister, who was a loner with a tendency to be aggressive ended up with the aggressive loner dragon who would have burned anyone else to dust…he must feel how similar they are, honestly it was a fairly perfect fit if you asked him. Though he could have done without the teeth bore in his face from this scarred beast.

He got as close as he dared, watching as a beautiful women slid down the dragons neck to her feet, the dragon nuzzling her and nearly knocking her from her feet (though the gesture was gentle for such a giant dragon who had to be just slightly bigger than Caraxes) before he took to the skies again and left her to look around the courtyard.

She was a vision, more than Aemond could have imagined after all these years without her and as she turned to see him for the first time, the smile that lit up her face gave him butterflies. ‘Aemond? Wow! Look how you’ve grown, you are certainly not that little boy I remember anymore, you are a man grown! Look at this handsome face!’ Aemond took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles in greeting, unable to look away from her perfect purple eyes.

‘You are a vision, more beautiful than I could have imagined…and I have imagined for years.’ Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she blushed and he held his arm out for her to take. ‘Come, I will show you to your chambers and you can freshen up, I know you must want out of your riding clothes-‘

‘Actually…I had hoped we could go riding together like we always promised we would. My sister would not let me come to Kings Landing before now but you did swear to take me on Vhagar when I returned.’ She reminded him as he guided her through the halls of the castle.

‘I could never forget my promise to you, however we will not be permitted to disappear together the night before our wedding, it would be improper after all.’ He teased making her roll her eyes with a smile.

‘Right because riding a 10 ton scaly lizard into the night is definitely a romantic evening.’ She paused after saying that before speaking again. ‘Actually, never mind, for a Targaryen that has to be the most romantic night possible. We’ll save it for tomorrow night.’

‘As you wish sister. Here is your chamber for the night, tomorrow night your things will be moved into one of our own. You change and get comfortable, I will return in a half an hour and we can take a walk in the gardens, how does that sound?’

‘That sounds lovely brother. I look forward to it.’ Aemond leaned down and pressed his lips to her hand like the gentleman he was, watching once again as her face grew pink and he loved her sweet blush, vowing to make it happen as often as possible.

The wedding that next evening was a huge affair. Everyone was present, members of every house in attendance for the event, and even all of the peasants celebrated as they left the Sept, throwing flowers and cheering their congratulations as they had all loved Y/n since the moment she was presented to the world as a baby (often ordering the gold cloaks to feed the poor, especially the children in need). Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown up with the children late, clearly hating being there for a marriage they didn’t want and Aemond couldn’t help but silently gloat to Jace who glared at him all through dinner. As they locked eyes Aemond could not resist giving in to his petty attitude, leaning down and touching his lips to his wife’s and enjoying the feel of her lips pressing against his in return as she clearly enjoyed the show of affection. His nephew glared harder at him before eventually taking Helaena’s hand and bringing her to dance as if trying to anger the One-Eyed Prince but nothing could do that right now, not now that Aemond has everything he’s ever wanted.

‘Would you like to retire now my beautiful wife? I want to make this marriage official before one of the dozens of men here that are jealously staring, attempts to steal you away from me.’

‘As if anyone else could take my attention away from you.’ At that moment there was suddenly the sound of several women screaming and they both turned to see that right in front of the Kings table Jace was locked in a physical fight with a man on the dance floor. Aemond turned his wife’s body away and pulled her to his chest to shield her, not wanting her innocent eyes to see such violence. Even if he enjoyed watching Jace get hurt he knew that his wife would never be the same if she was forced to potentially witness him die and he loved her innocence too much to let that be ruined. The guards pulled the man out of the hall and most likely to the Black Cells after Daemon had saved Jace from being butchered, following along with a rage filled Rhaenyra to question the man. Y/n pulled away from her husband and moved to the floor, inspecting her nephews face and Aemond nearly growled as Jace leaned into the affection. ‘Are you alright nephew?!’

‘Yes, of course, I am fine. I had it under con-‘

‘Thank goodness Daemon was here! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!’ She demanded and Aemond watched on as Jace’s face fell once again. ‘You are my sweet nephew, not a soldier or a brawler in the streets!’

‘I don-I’m-Uh…‘

‘She is right nephew, we could never forgive ourselves if you had been hurt attending our wedding…perhaps it is time for you to retire for the evening. Too much wine makes the mind do stupid things.’ Y/n nodded along with Aemond but Jace just glared at him.

‘This has nothing to do with you Uncle! Keep your thoughts to yourself! I don’t need-‘

‘Jacaerys! How Dare You?! Have care how you speak to your own family, Aemond is simply showing his concern for your well being! If this is your current state then he is correct, you should retire. I’m sure Luke will help you to your bed, won’t you sweet boy?’ Luke nodded his head, moving to take his elder brothers arm.

‘No! I don’t need to-‘

‘We should be retiring as well anyway. I must ensure my new wife is taken care of…’ Y/n blushed at her brothers words, leaning into his body as his hands found her waist comfortingly.

‘You are right brother, I think I have had enough partying for one day. We have a family dinner tomorrow evening anyway, we can celebrate more then.’ Suddenly Aegon, who had been drunkenly enjoying this whole situation, was grinning in excitement and stepping up to the newly weds, hand on his younger brothers shoulder.

‘Yes brother, time to retire. The bedding ceremony must be seen to before the end of the evening! I shall get our Grandsire and elder sister to-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, everyone that was listening jumping in fright at the rage in his voice. He had felt his wife’s body tense as she pulled him closer by his jacket that she was now clinging to for dear life. ‘There will be no bedding ceremony, I will have neither my sister nor my wife gawked at in her most vulnerable state as if she is some cheap whore on the street of silk! Y/n is my wife now, and no one else will ever see her in such a way ever again. I assure you brother, I can handle consummating my marriage just fine without your wandering eyes and words of encouragement.’ Aemond looked back down at his bride and took her face into his hands, wiping away the tears that escaped in her moment of panic, no one having mentioned a bedding ceremony and Aemond himself having assured her that it would not be happening.

‘My young Prince, it is tradition to have a maester and at least 3 members of the family present to ensure the wedding is consummated. Your brother, myself, Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to-‘

‘No Grandsire, you are not-because if you try to enter our marital chambers tonight, or really any night from this moment forward for any reason under the sun, I will break your spine and be feeding you to either Vhagar or the Cannibal in the morning. I will let my wife decide which she would prefer to make a meal out of your body as it is her you are offending. I am uncomfortable with how determined you are to watch me make love to my wife, and I am telling you that it will not happen.’

‘Aemond! You cannot speak to your Grandsire this way, you must-‘ Aemond cut his mother off quickly, startling her as he had never spoken to her like this before.

‘Do not make the mistake of believing my words to be exaggeration mother, they are not. Anyone who steps foot into our marital chambers this night or any moment from this one onward will find themselves being fed to a dragon of my wife’s choosing. She is my wife! And it is my job to care for her as such! I will not have her humiliated or upset as she gives herself to me for the first time…or any time. That is the end of the discussion, however you may wait in the hall and once we are done I will deliver you the sheets from our bed as your proof. That will have to suffice because it is all that you are getting.’ He looked back down at Y/n who had tears in her eyes once again but this time they were not fearful or embarrassed, but grateful and full of love. ‘Come my wife, it is time that I make this marriage official and fill you with my son. I must give my wife all of the lovely Targaryen babies that her heart desires.’

Aemond bent down slightly before lifting Y/n into his arms like a babe, whisking her away and out of the party. ‘Thank you Aemond…I know I should just accept it but I-‘

‘My wife will never be seen by anyone but me in any state of undress from this moment on, and should anyone sneak a peak at you I will deliver you their heart and feed the remains to Vhagar. Don’t you ever apologize for being uncomfortable, it is my job as your husband to see to your safety and I take my job very seriously.’ He assured her, kissing her head as they reached their new marital chambers where all of their things had been moved to. As Aemond carried his sister through the door he kicked it shut behind himself and locked it with both locks before using the thick wood plank and barring the door so no one could get in without more work than it was worth.

‘Will you assist me with the dress, husband?’ She teased making Aemond smirk, eyes darkening at the thought of finally undressing the prize he has worked and waited for, for so long.

‘You need not even ask, my love. Come here.’ He quickly unlaced the back of her dress, allowing it to fall to the ground and leave her in her small clothes which she removed before crawling into the bed and looking back up at him nervously. ‘Relax my love, you will love every second of this, I promise you.’ He swore and she took a breath, nodding, though her eyes grew wide again as he removed his trousers and revealed himself to her for the first time, now naked as he crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, sucking his way down her neck and chest.

‘A-Aemond? What are you-‘

‘Shh…just relax. I’m going to take care of you Princess, just trust me.’ He lifted her leg up by the back of the knee and leaned in, pressing his mouth over her slit before trailing his tongue up between her pussy lips and brushing against her clit, causing her hips to jump against her will.

‘I’m s-sorry-‘

‘Don’t apologize again, just enjoy it.’ Aemond wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, brushing his tongue against it repeatedly which seemed to shut her up quickly, the only sound remaining was her never ending moans. He pressed a finger into her tight hole followed by a second one which earned him a soft mewling noise that he couldn’t help thinking was adorable as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, stretching her as gently as he could to prepare her for him.

‘Oh Fuck! Aemond!’ She seemed to be hanging right on the edge in that moment until he curled his fingers up and just as he did she cried out at a whole new octave and her pussy squeezed his fingers in a vice grip, her body shaking while she panted as if she had run a long distance and he couldn’t help but find her flushed face absolutely beautiful.

‘You are so gorgeous…’ he crawled up over her and touched his lips to hers while spreading her legs. They wrapped around his waist before he pressed his cock against her hole and instantly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. 9 years he had waited after realizing how in love with Y/n he truly was, 9 years dreaming of this moment and wanting to make it just as special for her as it was for him just knowing how good his sister would make him feel, and he was right. Her cunt was like the sweetest vice grip he had ever experienced, he had never felt anything more wonderful in his entire life as he stilled his hips and just waited, not wanting to hurt her or cum so fast that she would inevitably laugh at him. ‘Are you alright?’ He questioned, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her too badly but she nodded.

‘I want to see all of you brother…I never want you to hide any part of you from me again.’ She spoke as she reached up and pulled the eye patch from his face. He reflexively turned his head away but she caught him, turning his head back and pulling him down to kiss the scar both over and under his eye. ‘My husband nor my brother will ever have to hide from me, you are so strong…and I think my husband is the most handsome man in the 7 kingdoms. I will fight anyone who chooses to disagree with me…and I have a Dragon so they will most assuredly lose.’ She teased making him smile before he choked on his breath, her pussy squeezing his member suddenly before she wiggled her hips. ‘Take me brother, I am all yours now!’

‘Yes you are…Mine! I will kill anyone who even thinks to disagree with me! All mine…’ Aemond spoke, shifting his hips back before pushing back in gently, doing it again only to thrust up into her this time. ‘Your husband is going to fill your belly so full tonight that no one will be able to question whether or not you are carrying my son. You want that, don’t you Princess? You want me to give you a baby?’

Y/n’s head nodded frantically as Aemond was now jack hammering his hips into her mercilessly, her whines prompting him to go faster. ‘Yes Brother! Yes! I want to give you everything! Fill my womb so that I may give you all the sons you want!’

‘Never going to stop breeding your cunt, Gods you feel magnificent! We’re going to end up having an entire army because I am never going to stop fucking you! Cum for me Princess and your husband will fill your womb, give me your pleasure!’ He demanded just before she cried out, her head thrown back as her cunt clamped down on him so hard he briefly thought it would hurt before the pleasure shot straight up his spine and he buried his cock into her as deeply as he could.

Aemond couldn’t tell how long they laid there breathing heavily and just holding each other, it felt as if they lost time before there was a knock on the door and Y/n flinched, instinctively trying to cover her body with a blanket despite no one entering. ‘My Prince? If you have finished we need-‘

‘Shut Up! Say Another Word and I Will Remove Your Tongue!’ He growled to the maester at the door. ‘Stay still my love, I will take care of it.’ He kissed her head and she smiled, humming contently before wincing as he pulled out of her, using his thumb to press his cum back into her abused hole as it leaked out. Aemond jumped up and pulled the sheet carefully from under her and off of the bed, rolling his eyes as he saw the small amount of blood on the white linen that he had made sure to fuck her on top of as he wasn’t willing to argue about them needing evidence that consummation took place. ‘I will be right back, then you are mine for the next week, because I do not plan on us leaving this bed for at least that long.’ He teased, kissing her nose and making her giggle as he pulled his trousers on and moved to the door, unbarring it and stepping outside while shutting the door behind him, unwilling to let anyone see his wife in her current state. At the door stood Maester Mellos along with his Grandsire, his mother and brother, and also Rhaenyra and Daemon. ‘I do not understand why this needed to be such a spectacle for so many of you but here.’ He shoved the sheet at the old man angrily. ‘Now, all of you will leave because if I find out anyone continued listening at the door I will slit you from balls to brains!’ The maester inspected the sheet before nodding to the Queen who genuinely looked sorry for her son.

‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother!’ Aegon laughed, Otto shoving him away quickly and dragging him down the hall before Aemond could move to cut him open as he wanted to, Daemon following along, clearly not caring about being there and only having done so as he loved his niece- to ensure Aemond was a gentleman.

‘Take care of your wife Aemond, I know you will be a good husband, better than your brother.’

‘Thank you mother-oh! We will be taking all of our meals in our chambers tomorrow-and for the foreseeable future. Please be sure a maid is sent to do that, my wife will need breaks to eat.’ Alicent didn’t look shocked at all, just nodding her head before she walked off.

‘Brother.’ Rhaenyra spoke, Aemond sighing before giving her his attention. ‘Take care of her. She is a gentle soul, if you hurt my sister I will make sure you do not live to see whatever children you give her.’ He rolled his eyes, not giving a fuck about his elder sisters threat.

‘If you think for a moment that I would harm her then you know nothing about our relationship at all-oh! Wait! You don’t…it took 9 years but I always knew that I would make her mine no matter what I had to do. I’m just thankful that father gave into my threat before you could give her away to that idiot Wolf in the North.’

‘W-what are you-‘

‘Of course, you don’t know! I made my mother aware of the fact that if you were successful in marrying off our sister that I would have mounted Vhagar and burned every inch of the Starks home, and every other home and stronghold that had snow covering it. She was never going to marry anyone else, that was decided quite a long time ago…its just that no one but I knew it.’ He explained, enjoying her shocked expression before opening the door to go back to his wife. ‘Oh! One more thing! You should make sure that you keep your eldest on a short leash, because if I find out-or Gods forbid catch him-peeping at my wife like he did under your watch, he will be locked in the Black cells until I decide to feed him to Vhagar. Your heir or not, father will not be able to argue with him dishonoring my wife and his favorite grandchild, and you know it…it was lovely to see you again sister.’ With that Aemond slammed the door in her face and turned back to his wife.

‘Is everything okay?’ Y/n asked, clearly nervous that the sheet wouldn’t be enough evidence and they would demand to watch this time.

‘Of course my Love, I will always ensure that it will be. Now, let us continue enjoying our marital bliss for as long as we can, hmm?’ Y/n smiled, dropping the blankets and revealing her naked chest to his eyes and he couldn’t help but imagine the breasts that he was in love with, swollen with milk to feed the boy that was growing in her womb. He was desperate to taste it himself, his cock growing hard in record time at the thought before he leapt into the bed beside her.

‘I want to stay here with you like this forever.’ She admitted, now sitting in his lap, his cock buried in her pussy as he enjoys worshipping her breasts with his mouth.

‘As you wish Sister…Always.’

Aemond T. Masterlist

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applepiewinchesters · 3 months ago

Text

Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either. But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

#logan howlett #james logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x reader #xmen #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #hugh jackman #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett fluff

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lionneee · 1 month ago

Text

What a marriage

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

Part 1 -> Part 2

•Warnings: fake marriage, arranged marriage, smut, piv, kissing, cheating, degradation.•

Modern!Husband!Aemond x Wife!Reader

{Request: Can I request a one shot older aemond and younger reader where reader father forces her to marry him and she didn't liked it a bit so she always tries to make him mad by pissing him off or by making him jealous Aemond tried to control his anger but He couldn't after he Caught her kissing a guy Then he punished her}

She never wanted this marriage. It wasn’t like she had a choice. Her father saw it as some grand opportunity, a way to bind their house to the Targaryens, like that would magically fix everything. As if marrying her off to Aemond, Aemond Targaryen, no less, was supposed to make her grateful.

But her father didn’t care. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how she felt about it. He’d simply handed her over like a prize, expecting her to smile and bow to Aemond, as if she owed him her devotion. Aemond. The man barely spoke. Half the time, it was like she didn’t even exist to him. Cold, stiff, and always so composed. She swore she could scream in his face and he’d just stare right through her with those sharp, calculating eyes, silently judging her.

She’d tried to make an effort. Tried talking to him, initiating conversations, anything to break through that icy exterior. But every time, he brushed her off, answering in clipped, controlled words, distant as ever. She wasn’t some ornament, some pretty little thing to be kept out of sight and out of mind. Yet every attempt to get his attention felt like hitting a stone wall.

Fine.

If he wanted to ignore her, she would ignore him right back.

It wasn’t as if he cared about this marriage either. He didn’t even bother to pretend. He was always locked away in his study, working, gods, always working, while she was left waiting like some foolish girl. Waiting for what? A few disinterested words over dinner? A fleeting glance in the hallway? The truth was, she wanted to hate him, and he made it so incredibly easy by acting as though she didn’t exist.

‘I don’t get it. You have his money, he doesn’t want to be with you. Why are you still at home? Come with me to dance tonight!’ her friend had said.

And she couldn’t argue. Why should she stay? Why pretend to care about her marriage when Aemond couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her presence? So, here she was, sneaking out of the grand house like some rebellious child, holding her heels in her hand to avoid making noise. She was going to dance. Maybe drink. Maybe flirt with someone just to feel alive, to remind herself that she still had choices, no matter how reckless they might be.

She made it to the door, her heart racing with the thrill of defiance, but as her hand brushed the handle, a voice as cold and sharp as a blade cut through the silence.

"Again?" He raised his eyebrow at her as he stood a few steps from her, unimpressed and unamused.

Her heart stopped, her fingers freezing on the door handle. Slowly, she turned around to face him, and there he was, Aemond, standing a few steps away. His eye was fixed on her, unimpressed, his expression cold and unamused. He stood tall, regal, his arms crossed over his chest, and though his voice had been calm, there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Her pulse quickened, not just from fear, but from the sheer audacity of his tone. As if she were the one acting out of line. As if he had any right to question her after months of barely speaking, after ignoring her for so long.

“You don’t care where I go." She shot back, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “Why should it matter to you what I do?”

Aemond’s expression didn’t change. His gaze swept over her, taking in her dress, her shoes still clutched in her hand, the rebellious fire in her eyes. He took a step closer, and despite herself, she instinctively backed up, her shoulder brushing against the door.

“It matters." He said, his voice low, controlled, and dangerous. “Because you are my wife.”

The way he said it, like it was a fact she couldn’t argue with, only fueled the frustration burning inside her. His wife. His. As if the mere title gave him ownership over her, when he hadn’t so much as shown her an ounce of affection since the day they were wed.

She shook her head with a bitter smile on her face, and after that, she walked out, running barefit to her friend's car at the end of the driveway of the house.

For the first time in what felt like ages, she let herself breathe. The wind from the open window tangled her hair, and the thought of dancing, laughing, and forgetting everything about Aemond, about her father’s plans, about the endless silence, lit a fire of excitement in her chest. She wasn’t a prize to be won, and tonight she’d prove that. She’d reclaim her choices, even if just for a few hours.

The club was a blur of neon lights, pounding music, and bodies moving in time to the heavy bass. She and her friend weaved through the crowd, making their way to the bar, where she ordered a drink, something strong, to dull the lingering bitterness that clung to her like a shadow.

"You go girl." Her friend laughed, handing her the glass. "Let's have some fun."

She smiled, but the triumph she’d expected didn’t come. Instead, Aemond’s cold, dispassionate face flashed through her mind, his voice, that same calm authority in his words, as though he had any right to dictate her life. It grated at her, the memory of him standing there, unimpressed by her rebellion, almost daring her to leave.

But she had left. She was here, wasn’t she? Surrounded by people, music, life. She downed her drink and ordered another.

For a while, it worked. She let the music sweep her up, moving to the rhythm, letting her body loosen, the alcohol sending a warm buzz through her limbs. A stranger approached, smiling, and she found herself flirting, feeling the rush of attention, the thrill of being seen. The stranger's hand rested lightly on her waist, guiding her as they danced, and for a brief moment, she felt like she’d regained control of her life.

She leaned into the stranger, her body moving effortlessly in sync with his. The alcohol had dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, and in this moment, she craved nothing more than to lose herself, to forget the weight of her marriage, the coldness of Aemond’s gaze, the suffocating expectations. She didn’t want to think anymore; she just wanted to feel.

The stranger’s hand slid up her arm, his touch warm against her skin, pulling her closer. Her heart raced, not with affection, but with rebellion, an act of defiance against the life she had been thrust into. His face was inches from hers, and without thinking, without pausing to consider the consequences, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

The man immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, his hands slowly darting out to her lower back as he pushed his tongue in her mouth, kissing her quickly, harshly.

She closed her eyes shut, trying to forget everything about her life and just focus on the kiss, on the man in front of her, his hands that moved to her butt, grabbing a handful of her skin and squeezing it.

The man pulled away from her lips and started to kiss her neck, she opened her eyes to look down at him, then, she made the biggest mistake.

She raised her gaze in front of her and she saw him.

Her husband.

Staring right back at her, right behind the stranger that was touching her body and kissing her neck.

Basing on Aemond’s look, he was not happy about that.

She didn’t dare to pull the man away.

It was like a silent battle between her and her husband, where he was silently ordering her to leave the man, and she was showing him just how much she didn’t care about his orders.

Aemond took a step closer, standing right behind the man that kept touching her body and sucking the skin of her neck, pulling her closer against his chest as he slowly started to grind his hips against hers, trying to look like he was simply dancing.

She simply placed her hands on the man's shoulders, and that’s when Aemond smirked.

That took her off guard,she couldn’t understand why he was smirking, but then he looked down at the ring on her finger.

Her wedding ring.

She smirked right back, and without tearing her eyes off Aemond, she leaned towards the stranger's ear.

“I’m married…” She whispered, trying to sound sexual, and she bit her lip. She saw with the corner of her eyes the man’s head snap up, then a grin forming on his face.

“So young?” He asked with a hint of surprise.

That’s when she looked away from Aemond, to the man in front of her.

“Yeah… But my husband is older, and he doesn't know how to take care of me…” She said, pretending to be sad and frustrated. The man raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a wide smirk.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” He squeezed her butt again, pulling her against him. “I can.” He chuckled and kissed her again, unaware that her husband was watching them, and he felt ready to kill that guy.

Then, in a second, the man wasn’t on her anymore, but on the floor, with Aemond’s foot pressed against his chest.

She saw him lean down and say something to the man, but due to the loud musing, she couldn’t hear a word.

Aemond turned and glared at her his nostrils wide open as he panted in fury, he stepped back from the man and grabbed her wrist, dragging her behind him as he strode out of the club.

Without much elegance, he threw her in the car, not so elegantly and slammed the door right after.

She pressed her lips together as she looked at him, walking around the car to get in the driver seat.

“Disrespect me like this-” He growled as he turned on the engine. “Act like a damn whore , “ He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Cheat-“

“Cheat?” She repeated, her voice trembling, betraying herself when she tried to sound strong. “We’re not a couple.”

Aemond took a deep breath as he sped up the car, his hands gripping tightly the steering wheel.

“Shut up. Shut. Up.” He growled, his tone of voice suggesting her to follow his order.

She looked out of the window and sank in the seat, spending the rest of the ride silent.

The rest of the car ride was tense and suffocating. The only sound was the engine's roar, and the tension crackling between them like a fire ready to burst. She kept her gaze fixed on the blur of the passing city, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to shield herself from the storm brewing next to her.

Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight, his knuckles turned white. His eye was trained on the road, but the energy radiating from him was unmistakable, anger, frustration, something darker she couldn’t quite name. The car cut through the city streets with reckless speed, and for a moment, she wondered if he even cared where they were going or if he was just trying to burn off his fury.

They arrived back at the house far quicker than she expected. Aemond barely parked the car before he was out of it, slamming the door with enough force to make her jump. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before following suit, the click of her heels echoing on the pavement as she stepped out. The front door was already open, Aemond standing inside, waiting for her.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her. The sound reverberated through the grand hall, making her stomach drop. She turned to face him, heart pounding, unsure of what would come next. His single eye was fixed on her, blazing with barely restrained fury, but beneath it was something else, something more dangerous, possession.

“You think you can humiliate me like that?” His voice was low, the words dripping with anger.

She lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to back down. "Humiliate you? You've ignored me for months, Aemond. You don’t get to act like you care now. You made it very clear from the beginning that I mean nothing to you."

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’re my wife." He said again, as if that explained everything. His voice was cold, but there was an edge of desperation beneath it.

She swallowed, trying to hold his gaze without flinching. “Your wife?!" She snapped, her voice rising. “Being ignored, pretending we’re something we’re not, this is our marriage. You don’t even care about me, Aemond. You’ve made that very clear.”

Aemond’s eye darkened. “You think I don’t care?”

“You don’t!" She shot back, her frustration bubbling over. “You never speak to me, you never acknowledge me. You’re always locked away, and I’m left here, waiting for... what? For you to remember that I even exist? You never have, not once!”

He took a step closer, his posture tense, coiled like a predator. “You think that justifies what you did tonight? Throwing yourself at some stranger like a common-”

“Don’t you dare!" She cut him off, her voice sharp. “Don’t you dare make this about my behavior when you’re the one who’s treated me like nothing more than an accessory. You don’t get to be angry, Aemond, not when you’ve given me nothing to work with.”

Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. His chest heaved as he struggled to contain whatever storm was raging inside him.

“I’ve given you everything." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, though the weight of it hung heavy in the air. “Everything I have, you have. My name. My house. My loyalty.”

“Your loyalty?” She let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even look at me.”

His eye flickered with anger. “I’ve been patient." He snarled, his voice laced with cold control. “I’ve kept my distance because I didn’t want to force you into something you clearly weren’t ready for. But make no mistake, wife, you belong to me. No matter how much you hate me, or I hate you. No matter what we feel, we are married.”

Aemond stepped closer, towering over her. “I’ve allowed you your space, your defiance, even your rebellion tonight. But no more. This ends now.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “And what if I don’t agree?" She challenged, though her voice faltered at the end.

Aemond’s smirk returned, dark and dangerous. “You will." He said, his voice as smooth as silk, “Because I won’t give you a choice.”

“Aemond -” She began, but her words were cut off as he tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You are mine." He whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “And I am yours, whether you like it or not.” He paused as he looked at her face. “This marriage is real." Aemond said, his voice rough. “You don’t get to run from it. You don’t get to run from me.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “And what if I still want to?" She whispered. He immediately wrapped his hand around her neck, squeezing lightly.

“Then I’ll chase you." He growled. “And you won’t escape.”

Her breath caught at his words, at the possessiveness in them. His eye bore into her, and she felt a sudden anger warming her chest.

She knew that no matter how much she ran, this was her life.

And she couldn't do anything to change it.

“I hate you.” She hissed, her voice filled with venom.

She saw it in his eye, a spark of lust at her words. Her breath got caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

He liked it. It turned him on.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between them, his hand squeezing her neck. The sudden lack of air sent a jolt through her even if it was for a brief moment. His touch was cruel, it was possessive, commanding.

Before she could react, his lips crashed down on hers, fierce and unrelenting. It wasn’t a kiss of affection; it was a claim, a reminder of the bond they shared, a bond she had tried to forget but could no longer deny.

She wanted to resist, wanted to push him away, but something inside her cracked, the wall she had built around her heart splintering under the force of his kiss. She kissed him back, not out of love or affection, but out of the same defiance that had driven her to the club in the first place.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads nearly touching. His eye searched hers, his chest rising and falling with the effort of controlling his emotions.

“Run away again, and when I find you, I’ll tie you to my bed.” He growled as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“If I run away again, I’ll make sure you’ll never find me again.” She hissed right back. Aemond groaned and pulled her by her neck closer, his lips slamming against hers again, kissing with all the anger he had inside, all the desire and frustration he grew over the marriage.

“Keep fighting back.” He hissed in her ear. “It only gets me going.” She could feel the smirk against her ear, his amusement, his challenge.

She placed her hands on his chest and forcefully pushed him away, but he only let out a low grunt, taking a small step back. He looked down at her with an amused smirk, and moved his hand behind her neck, pushing her forward and slamming her face against the wall, his body pressing hers from behind.

“Try again.” He growled. She could hear him trying to unbuckle his belt, and she waited until he shifted his attention to his pants to throw herself back to get him off of her and run upstairs.

She managed to take four steps before he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, one around her middle, the other arm clenching around her throat.

She gritted her teeth as she wrapped her hands around his arm.

“Fuck you-” She managed to say before he bent more his arm to cut her off. He moved his other hand to raise her dress over her legs and ass, leaving her in underwear.

He thrusted his hips forward against her, and her breath got caught in her throat as she felt his big hard cock rubbing against her ass.

He chuckled at her gasp, he kept her close to him by the grip around her neck as he lowered his boxers.

“Do you think you can take it?” He pressed the side of his head against hers. “I know you can't see it, wife, but I assure you, it’s big.” He pressed a hand on her stomach to make her feel it again, and she had to bite back a moan, just at the idea of his big cock filling her so good.

“I’ve had better, husband.” She smirked as she dug her nails in his arm, that was still tightly around her neck. He growled in her ear as his hand on her stomach moved lower, until it found her core.

Without much teasing he slipped two fingers inside and chuckled.

“That’s why you’re so wet?” He started moving his fingers inside her with a fast pace, roughly, making her legs tremble as she tried to close them for too much pleasure so suddenly, in such a short time.

“No, kissing that guy at the club did it-” She choked as he bent further his arm.

Truth was, Aemond was fucking hot when he was angry.

And she was enjoying this game perhaps too much.

She groaned as she tried to close her legs, Aemond pulled his hand away and slapped her butt.

“You’re so wet I won’t even have to properly prepare you, I guess I’ll thank that guy, for wetting my wife for me-” He said in a low growl, then he pressed his forehead against her temple and growled in her ear. “I will spread your walls on my cock-” He moved his hand between their bodies, grabbing his cock and giving it a few pumps before pressing the head against her entrance. “Until you’ll be begging me to stop.” He thrusted his hips forward, making his cock slam inside her, placing a hand on her stomach to keep her still.

“Oh my God – “ Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she moaned loudly, her back arching, her buttcheeks pressing against him as he filled her to the bring, to a point no one has ever reached before.

“You feel it, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly in her ear as he moved back, pulling out almost to the end before slamming inside once again, settling the whole glorious length inside her warm folds.

She sobbed as she got filled again, she could feel him everywhere, rubbing every spot inside her, throbbing against her wet walls.

He started thrusting slowly, but hard, making her jolt forward every time he settled back inside her,

“Not so talkative anymore, uh?” He chuckled as he started to pick up the pace, his hand on her stomach pressing harder. “I know you feel me.” He whispered as he felt a slight bulge against his hand every time he thrusted back. “Even I can feel me.”

“F-fuck you-” She breathed out, her eyes closed as she tried to focus on pleasure and not at the slight discomfort of having something that big inside her. “I hate your small dick just as much as I hate you.” She grunted, trying to sound believable, but the laugh she heard from him let her know that she failed miserably.

“Small dick? Is that all you can do?”

He smiled and moved his hand lower, back between her legs, his fingers quickly found her clit and started rubbing it quickly. She arched her back violently as she bent her legs, crying out and trying to close her legs to stop his hand, Aemond’s arm around her neck was the only thing keeping her on her feet, her legs slowly starting to turn jelly as he kept with his merciless pounds, always harder.

The only sound filling the room was his grunts and her pants, along with the sticky wet sounds on his cock as it slipped in and out of her, his balls hitting her ass every time he filled again.

His tip caressed her sweet spot every time it rubbed its way inside, then it hit another spot she didn’t know she had, way deeper, sending shivers of pleasure through her. In addition his fingers never stopped stimulating her clit, bringing her edge dangerously close.

“For fucks sake, you’re leaking-“ He grunted as he kept thrusting inside her with a punishing pace.

She moaned and tilted her head back, her mouth agape, she felt unable to properly think of a sentence or an insult, anything.

She was completely out because of his husband's long, thick, wonderful cock.

Aemond looked down at her, finding her eyes lost in pleasure, her dumbfolded expression as he fucked her raw was almost too much for him.

Almost.

He suddenly picked up a faster pace, hugging her chest with his free arm as he slammed harder against her, making her let out sounds he had never heard before.

“I know you want to come.” He growled in her ear. “Because you love this dick.” He smiled as she head a particularly loud moan, then her walls started to squeeze him inside, massaging his cock tightly, asking him to never leave that wet heat he was enveloped in.

“There, baby. Come.” He moaned as he choked her a bit more, and his words seemed to be enough for her.

Her whole body shook violently against his, and she would have fallen over if he wouldn’t have been keeping her up.

He moaned loudly as she tightened even more that he expected, and with a low growl, he slammed his cock as deep as it could go, staying there and enjoying every little squeeze she gave him.

He moved only when she calmed down. He pulled out and pushed her towards the back of the couch, making her bend over it.

“What? Get off me! I can’t-“ She gasped and stopped herself when he smacked her bottom, hard enough to leave a red print of his hand.

“What did I say?” He said as he pushed right back into her, making her arch her back immediately and stood up. He pushed right back on the couch, keeping her firm with a hand on the back of her neck. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

He quickly started to pound into her again, looking down at his cock getting wetter by the second, as it disappeared in her folds.

“Fuck! Ah — Aemond-“ She moaned as she tried to hold on to everything she could find.

“Yes? What is it?” He chuckled darkly, waiting for her pleas.

She groaned loudly and squeezed the cushions of the couch in her hands, wanting to beg him to stop and let her rest, but too stubborn to actually do it.

“Fuck you!” She shouted, but that only spurred him more. He slapped her butt again, the he grabbed a handful, pressing her cheeks apart so he had a clearer view of what he was doing to her.

He started to feel his orgasm reaching, but he wanted to make her come again first.

“Look at you -“ He panted. “Here I thought you were so rebellious, but it took me only a night to make you bend over for me.” He laughed. She could feel her cheeks burn hot with anger and embarrassment at his words.

He felt her clench around him, and with a low grunt, he started to slam in her harder, deeper.

“I’ll make sure every night, every day, that you won’t be able to use your pretty legs to run off again.” He snarled.

She moaned as she felt the couch starting to squeak under her, the force of his movements was breaking the damn couch.

“Christ — Aemond- Wait-“ She mumbled as she panted.

“Keep begging.” He smiled. “I like that.”

“The couch —“ She gasped. “It’s breaking -“

“I don’t care about the fucking couch. I’ll buy one where I can fuck you as hard as I want.” He growled, his pace never relenting. “Now come again.”

He threw his head back, trying to hold back his orgasm, waiting for her to come, and basing on how her walls were squeezing him, she was right there.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly as she came again, waves of pleasure ran through her body, stronger than before, taking her breath from her.

“Yes — Fuck — I’m gonna come —“ He moaned, his pace quickening. “I’m gonna come inside you, wife -“ He panted loudly as he slammed his hips into her one last time, grabbing her hips to pull her back against him, trying to come as deep as he could inside her.

He leaned forward, his body covering hers.

“I don’t want to see a drop come out of you as we walk in the bedroom.”

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babygirl-riley · 11 months ago

Note

Hi I have a request so it’s like Simon and his wife arguing pretty badly like to the point where she’s shouting bare at him she’s on the verge of tears and while their arguing their new born cries so the reader goes upstairs to the crying baby once their baby is calm she doesn’t even go back downstairs to talk to him she just like stays in the baby room and goes on her social media to distract her self from Simon.

Hii so I have this written in my notes I always do that so I don’t forgot what I’m gonna ask and I hope this is what u meant tho cause im so slow it acc took me bare long to understand 😭

Quiet Home

You and Simon have been back to back arguments. Before you both could finish this one a loud cry interrupted the fight.

A/N: this is exactly what you asked for 😭 So embarrassing truly 💀 However this really tugged the heartstrings

“I want to be close to you, but I don't know what to do.'Cause if we are near to through, it may make it worse.”

Warnings: baby blues, depression, anger, arguments, fighting, yelling, screaming, baby crying, swearing, soft!simon, husband!simon, happy ending

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

You were exhausted, you would clean, go get groceries, wake up every hour with the newborn, and everything in between. Usually you had Simon right beside you and help you with the smallest things. However, duty calls. Price promised Simon a couple months leave however, it was an emergency.

When Simon first brought it up, you knew he saw the rolling of the eyes but you brushed it off. Simon brought it up later and you just tried to push it away. Eventually it blew up. Things were said and yelled that weren’t meant to come out. Simon slept in a different room and he was gone for a couple of weeks.

You didn’t answer his calls but text him updates. It was petty but it’s a petty time. You were promised to have your husband here with both your child. Yet you are here almost falling asleep anytime it was early in the morning to feed the baby. You sat outside of the room of your baby as she bailed and bailed, being irritated and tired. Eventually you would go in sure but you were so scared that you would yell at her for being a baby.

After the couple of weeks you tried to brush it under the rug as you made Simon’s favorite dinner. Knowing he would be home. He text you stating that he will be home around 7 o clock and he was excited to see both you and the baby. 7 went to 8, 8 went to 9, 9 went to 10, 10 went to 11, and so on. The food went cold and baby was down. Especially you were tired.

You already put the food away and sat in the living room. You watched the clock before you angrily got up and started the bath. You needed to cool down. You heard the heavy footsteps heading down the hall. You rolled your eyes with the clock read 1 AM.

Simon noticed the light beaming through the room you both shared. Inhaling deeply he stepped in and rounding into the bathroom. You stood with a robe on and touching the warm water.

“S’rry ‘m late.” He said watching your movements.

“Okay.” You said not looking at him.

He frowned and shook his head. “I had a ton of paperwork and didn’t notice the time. Thought I had enough time.”

You didn’t say nothing as you went to the cabinet and pulled out your favorite salts for the bath. Simon watched as you poured them in and went back to put it away. “Y/n please.”

“Please what Simon? You were late. You weren’t here. Shit happens right? Emergencies happen. It’s whatever at this point.” You scoffed as you finally looked at him.

Simon noticed the anger in your eyes. He was upset that he left without resolving the last fight. He was upset that when he called you didn’t want to talk. He was upset he wasn’t home when he was supposed to be and not seeing his babygirl. He also noticed you are tired. Exhausted even. The bags. The purple shade underneath your eyes. “It’s my job you knew that when you signed up for it.”

You laughed and shook your head. “You don’t think I know that? Don’t you dare throw that in my face Simon. We were promised a break for our child yet he drags you back and you are willing to without a second glance.”

“Really? It goes back to me not carin’ about our family huh? That’s what you said before I left. You think I care more about my job than us.”

“Yes! Yes I do! I think that you are stuck in a loop without anyone but you! You are fine with just going instead of being here!” You yelled starting to walk out and brushing passed Simon.

“It’s my job! I have to go! I can’t leave my team behind!” He yelled back following you.

You scoffed as you ripped your robe off, ripping open your drawers. “Right but you can do it to us.” You mumbled pulling out sweats and a t-shirt.

“What’s that supp’se to mean?” He basically growled.

You snapped up and looked at him. “Ever since Millie was born it was like you have been gone. You will help yes but how long did that last before you skipped your happy ass to Price,” You yelled pulling the sweats up as you felt a sting of tears coming. You laughed as you heard nothing from him. “I have been doing this by myself with no help! Nothing Simon!”

“That’s not fair! How many times do I have to say it’s my fuckin’ job…”

“You have a job here!” You screamed as tears started to spill and right before anyone could say anything a wail broke through the air.

You both stood there for a minute before you raked your fingers through your hair. You wiped your eyes angrily. “Damn it,” You pulled your shirt on before walking out, grabbing your phone on the dresser. “I am sleeping in the other room.” You slammed the door shut before walking to the baby’s room.

You opened it as Millie screamed louder. You cried as you walked closer that turns to a sob. You didn’t know what to do. How to do it. You don’t know how to keep her asleep and fed and changed without being upset. You gripped the crib hard as you couldn’t move. You were tired and your baby needs you. “I’m sorry,” You cried as you picked her up and shushed her softly. “I know I know.”

You sat in the rocking chair as you let your baby fed. You scrolled on social media seeing all the happy couples. All what they are doing. All your friends looking like they don’t have problems. You missed Simon, not like he changed, just his touch, he soft voice when he whispers I love you. You missed his laugh when you both would have that marriage banter. You missed his tea.

You are afraid that maybe having a kid was a bad idea. That it ruined or tainted everything. You looked at your baby and inhaled. How could you think like that? What has she done to make you feel that way? It seemed like anytime Simon was around you were angry. Small arguments that turned into this. Your lip trembled and you held your baby closer to your chest. Tears prickling your eyes.

You threw your phone on the ground and sobbed. You were a monster. How could a mother think like that? Why would a wife yell at her husband for doing his job? You kept thinking about all the bad things that happened or been thought of that you didn’t notice that your baby was being scooped up.

When the cold air touched your skin, you opened your eyes panicked. You thought you dropped her as you looked down with tears blinding you before you felt a hand on your cheek. You snapped your eyes to see Simon, holding your baby girl close to his chest as she was asleep. “Baby,” He whispered concerned on his face. He was kneeling as he wiped tears after tears. “Come on let me put her to bed and let’s go talk please.”

“No,” You mumbled as you stood up. “I got her.”

Simon stood up and shook his head. “Please, you look tired.”

“I-I no she needs me.” You whispered but made no move to grab her.

“She has me too,” He said quietly. “Go to the kitchen please.”

You stared for a moment and looked at your baby. How small she was compared to him. How secure she looks when he was holding her. You nodded as you wiped more of the tears away. “Okay.”

Guilt pinged your chest as you glanced once to see him bouncing a bit as he slowly put her down. You walked into the kitchen and sat at the island as quiet tears slipped. You are tired you felt your body relax and felt heavy. “Baby,” You snapped your head up and saw Simon holding a kettle. “Do you want tea?”

You nodded once and looked away. It was quiet as he face the kettle waiting for it to go off. “I’m still mad at you.” You mumbled.

Simon nodded as he turned to lean against the counter. “Why is that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Simon you know why.”

Simon walked up and leaned his elbows on the counter. “Y/n I’m not doin’ it to hurt you two.”

You froze for a moment before looking away. Thoughts of how it could be different with him not having the damn job. However, he was right he wasn’t doing it to hurt you. “I told Price to call someone else but…he needed me for what I know.” You slowly looked at him as Simon looked the other direction. “I fought the old man about it for days. I didn’ say nothin’ cause I knew you would be upset. I didn’t notice that I was pushing you and our princess away. Just-just tried to figure out how to get out of it…I’m sorry.”

Now you felt even more bad. He tried to fight not to go and fought for the two of you. You inhaled but don’t exhaled afraid of sobbing once more. The moment Simon looked at you, you sobbed and hid your face with your hands. “I didn’t-I’m so sorry Simon.”

Simon walked around and shook his head as he turned the chair to gently pull you on for a hug. “Baby I should have said something and not fought it alone.”

You sobbed and sobbed as everything came down. “I’m so tired Si. I am tired of being awake so damn early. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of not being able to do anything. I am tired of fighting with you. I am sorry Simon. I should have been m-more understanding. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to marry such a bitch. I have been so ru…”

He gently pushed you off to grab your wrists to show your face. Simon smiled softly before grabbing your chin with his thumb and finger. “I know. I know. You been overwhelmed with so much. We will figure it out yeah? It’s okay, we are fine. I married you for you even when it’s rocky. It won’t always be perfect.”

You calmed down a bit as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

The kettle goes off as Simon kissed your forehead to walk over. You sat still as Simon came around. “I will be here right now, try my best to help you my love.”

You looked up and saw him, his eyes glowing with love. You inhaled and nodded as he pulled you back into his chest. You snuggled in and felt warmth throughout your body. God no one deserves Simon Riley.

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vinylmango · 1 month ago

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Flower Delivery

crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader

Request: Hi! Can you make a story about Nicholas Chavez being obsessed and real crazy if that’s fine!

Warnings: gaslighting and obsessive behavior, language

word count: 1.2k

Note: Fair warning this is my first time writing long form content in a while and my first request. Thanks so much for requesting and I hope you like it!

part two

part three

masterlist

You opened the shiny silver trailer door with a sigh, your eyes cutting left and right as you quickly clicked the door closed behind you. Silence enveloped you, a stark contrast from the hustle and bustle outside. Flopping down on the small beige sofa near the window of your trailer, you reached an arm out, haphazardly feeling for your phone as you tried your best not to move from your comfortable position.

You finally grabbed your phone after a few tries, glancing at the various notifications on the screen. “Nothing important.” You mumbled to yourself as you placed the phone down on the coffee table. You glanced up at the table that was beside the full length mirror, your eyes being drawn there due to the pop of colors that screamed against the basically designed trailer that only utilized various shades of creams and whites.

“No…wh-how?” Slipped from your lips, filling the silence as you stood and took a few hesitant steps towards the beautifully arranged flowers. A sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of your stomach, combining with a growing anger that only seemed to bubble up more the moment your hand touched one of the delicate yellow petals.

A small white card with your name scrawled in intricately looped lettering caught your attention from beside the vase. “My (Y/n), I always knew you’d be a star. Love, Nick.” You gritted your teeth, tossing it back on the table as you rolled your eyes. “What the fuck?” You inhaled sharply. "Oh my God, what the fuck!" You repeated as you grabbed your phone once again, clicking the contact you didn’t really have to spend much time searching for, and clicking dial.

It only rang twice before the line connected. “Hi (Y/n).” You could hear the smile growing on his face already, your nails turning white around the phone that was pressed to your ear, your lips pulling into a firm line. “I take it you got my flowers?”

“I told you to stop.” Your tone was deceivingly calm as you closed your eyes and let out a breath.

“Stop what, love?”

“Don’t call me that.” You instantly replied as he chuckled into the line. “Stop sending me things. Stop it. We aren’t dating anymore. It’s been a year, just stop.”

“I sent you flowers every week.” A chill ran up your spine as his tone switched from the lighthearted one to a much more serious and strangely calm one. You could picture his face now, devoid of emotion and dark eyes staring straight at you with a calculating look as if he were assessing you.

“Well we aren’t together. We haven’t been for a year.” You reminded him again as you heard him scoff.

“You didn’t know what you wanted. I know you (Y/n). We’re better together. Just trust me.”

“No.” You shook your head, although he couldn’t see you. “You don’t get to do that anymore. You have no idea what I want or need because you’re a fucking psycho!”

“Don’t be so dramatic (Y/N). You’re confu-”

“I know what you did with Sam.” You cut him off. “He showed up at my place last month going on about how two-faced I supposedly am. How he was so lucky some ex of mine told him that I’m a serial cheater, that I cheated on him too. Then the ex told him that I’ve been sleeping with him since before I even met Sam, let alone started dating him, because I’m still in love with my ex.” A humorless laugh left your lips at the absurdity of it all. “I know it was you and you know none of that is true."

"Hm." He didn't say anything, neither confirming or denying your accustation. But you both knew the truth, it hung heavy in the air.

"He broke up with me." You could picture the look of satisfaction that crossed his face. "This is the third time, Nicholas."

“He’s not good enough for you. He’s a douche and a scumbag and he's been that way since high school. He uses people to social climb.” Nicholas brushed it off. “You think I’d allow him to hurt you? Damage your reputation? Make you another one of his conquests? I was protecting you.”

“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to!” Your voice raised as you messed with your hair, a nervous habit that you didn’t realize you did until Nicholas pointed it out one time when you were over for a movie night. “And you need to stop showing up at my place. You’re scaring Mrs. Mills.” You added referring to your elderly neighbor who was the one that told you sometimes a car would come by late at night and park in front of your home then leave after 30 or so minutes. Always the same car.

“That woman doesn’t even know what day of the week it is most of the time. You really are going to believe her over me? That's insane. She's damn near senile.” He sounded offended now, his tone short and tense.

“Nick, I'm done, seriously. Loose my fucking number.” You said finally, hanging up and immediately blocking his contact. You jumped as a loud knock sounded from the other side of your trailer door.

That couldn’t be him. Could it?

You opened the trailer door just enough to stick your head out.

“Are you alright (Y/N)? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” It was just one of the studio interns coming to get you from the filming break. She laughed lightly, her blue eyes shining almost as much as her dark glossy hair in the sunlight. You let out a forced laugh, your mouth rising into a smile that did not reach your eyes, and frankly looked more like a grimace than anything close to a smile.

“Sorry. I-I was just lost in thought.” You tried to cover for your awkward reaction as she nodded, looking you over once again before the smile returned to her face.

“They’re ready for you on set again.” She told you as you nodded and grabbed your phone off the table before following her out and towards the stage. You should’ve grabbed those flowers and thrown them in the dumpster that was on your way to the stage from your trailer. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t.

You glanced back once, worried you may have forgotten to lock your trailer, you couldn’t remember if you had or hadn’t. Your foot caught on your shoelace as your eyes locked with the all too familiar dark brown ones that had once made you smile.

He watched you stumble, his eyebrows raising as a hint of a smile appeared on his lips at your blunder. You gasped, looking around to see if anyone else was seeing the man who was not supposed to be on set or if this really was a figment of your imagination.

“Are you okay?” The intern spun around and asked, concern written all over her face. “I’ve been trying to tell people on set about that hole. They really need to repave this. You aren’t hurt are you?” She was talking a mile a minute as you blinked at her and simply nodded, glancing back in the direction of your trailer to find nothing there. No Nicholas after all.

Maybe it really had just been your imagination.

“Uh…Ye-yeah. I’m alright.”

#black!reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x black reader #nicholas chavez x poc reader #poc reader #vinylmango #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x black!reader #vinylmango requests

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 4 months ago

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My thoughts about the Trump assassination attempt

After having a few hours to process this whole thing and see reactions from across the political spectrum, I'm having some thoughts and some feelings.

First off, as I said earlier, Trump is a fucking boss. Take anyone who ran for president in the last 20 years, put them in that exact situation, and I don't think a single one responds by raising his fist and snarling in defiance and righteous anger. They run. They cry. They keep their heads down and the first statement you h ear from them is hours later filtered through 20 different speech writers. Today proved to me that, whatever else he may be, Trump is a genuine bad ass. He's exactly the person I want at the end of a sword pointed the United States. Because he's going to have a sword of his own pointed right back, and he's not going to run and hide when it comes time to use it.

Second, the modern left is full of monsters. The amount of people screaming and crying because this assassination attempt failed actually sickens me. It's one thing to have fantasies about easy solutions to the things that scare you. Hell, I'm not innocent. I've thought about how much better things might be if this politician was no longer around or this activist group got axed. But one of the things I did today was think about how I would feel if the assassin succeeded. And then I thought about how I'd feel if someone took a shot at Biden and he didn't survive. Neither thought gave me any good feelings. Obviously I'd be more upset if Trump died, but today showed me that I don't want us to start down the path of shooting political leaders. But too many people on the left, people who should know better, at least enough to hide their true feelings, have no problem publicly wishing Trump was dead right now. That assassinating presidential candidates was a legitimate tactic--but only against the politicians they don't like, of course.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

America is better than that. Americans are better than that. We're not some third world shithole like Mexico. We're the greatest country in the world. We're the last bastion of representative government. The last place in the world where freedom exists. And it's time we started acting like it.

Third, I ain't got no time for conspiracy theories. Sorry guys, but this wasn't staged and this wasn't a CIA hitman. Unless real, hard evidence comes out otherwise, you won't ever get me to believe any of the nonsense I've seen floated around. Don't be so lost in the true things the media has dismissed as "conspiracy theories" that you immediately jump to the most conspiratorial explanations first for everything that happens. It's lame and cringe and a lot of people I've seen seriously putting these theories forward should know better. I know we're in our emotions right now, but keep your heads.

Fourth, my heart breaks for the families of the people who were hit with the bullets meant for President Trump. But that's the kind of evil we're facing. Whoever did this decided that the idea of a Trump presidency was so awful that they were okay with shooting innocent people just to stop him. And this is after he was already president and none of the things the media is fear mongering about happened during his first term. Those people just wanted to see a man speak. To have some hope for the future. And some piece of shit shot them because he didn't like a presidential candidate. Or worse, because the TV made him scared.

Fifth, fuck the media. You think you hate them enough, but you don't. The media is the driving force behind our enemies, and there's no such thing as a good journopig. They're all lying propagandists. We just like some of them because their propaganda occasionally hits on the truth.

And that's all I got. None of this is organized, none of this is proofread. These are just the thoughts I've been wrestling with for the past few hours. This is the only place I can get them all down without being interrupted or feeling like I need to censor myself. Do with them what you will.

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months ago

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Too Much (Little Sister Version)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @redbird-tf

Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.

It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.

“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”

“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.

“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”

Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.

So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.

Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.

So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.

The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.

I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…

And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.

And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.

The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.

It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…

But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.

The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.

“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…

You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room—it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.

You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.

You couldn’t talk about it.

A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.

You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.

“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”

“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.

“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”

It was later than you’d thought.

“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.

“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.

“I think we’re out,” you answered.

“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”

“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”

Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”

“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.

You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…

You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.

You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.

…

“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.

“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.

You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…

“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.

“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”

“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”

You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.

“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”

…

You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.

“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.

…

You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.

“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”

Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”

“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.

“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.

You shook your head.

“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”

“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.

…

You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.

You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.

You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.

You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.

You were still laying there when the door opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”

“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”

He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.

You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”

Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…

You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.

Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…

It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.

When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.

You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.

The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—

When Dean walked in.

“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”

“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”

“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.

“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”

Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.

“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”

“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”

“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”

“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”

“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”

“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.

“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”

“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”

“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you right now.”

Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.

“Then I’m here for you.”

Taglist:

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#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #spn sam winchester #sam winchester spn #supernatural sam winchester #dean winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester spn

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babyleostuff · 3 months ago

Text

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🤾🏽] 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: HANDBALL

‟ you're always on seungcheol's mind, even when he scores a gold medal winning goal. and he’d be damned if you weren't the first person he ran to right after

handball player 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐥 + girlfriend reader wordcount: 2.2k

⦗💌 ⦘ fluff fluff FLUFF, definitely not based on mondo duplantis and his girlfriend

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i highly recommend to listen to "the alchemy" while reading, and here is a tik tok which i based this fic on

two minutes left.

two minutes left and cheol’s team was losing by two points.

you weren’t looking at the pitch anymore; you hadn’t for the past five minutes, ever since your boyfriend’s team decided to ditch every rational strategy they could play by and run around like it was their first time playing handball instead. surely the pressure was getting into them, especially with the time slowly running out, but… they couldn’t let this win slip through their fingers so easily.

the whole arena was buzzing with anticipation; you could feel the energy surging through your veins, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream with everyone else for cheol’s team to move their asses or if you wanted the audience to shut the hell up, so you could focus as if that had any influence on the game.

“oh, come on!” you yelled as one of the opponents pushed cheol to the ground. “that deserves two minutes!” you groaned and threw your hands up when the referee did, in fact, not penalise the guy.

it looked like seungcheol was just as frustrated as you were. he shook his head, which made his faded blue bangs fall over his eyes, and took his place at the nine-metre mark. you huffed in annoyance - you told him to pin them back or to put on a headband before the match, and he still hadn't listened to you. nothing new.

“pass it to jaehyun!” you screamed your ass off once again and waved in the direction of the left winger, acting like your boyfriend could hear you perfectly amongst the noise.

you couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lady on your left, who was gripping her child closely to her waist. she probably thought you were mentally ill, and to be honest, you looked like it. you were sporting the “struck by lightning” hairstyle from how often you tugged at your hair.

by the 59 minute mark, the boys managed to score two points, which meant it was a tie.

one minute left.

you were looking through your fingers as the opposite team quickly managed to get through the boys’ defence and score, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, a very impressive goal, leaving seungcheol’s team utterly speechless and, at this point, drained. you could see it on their faces - the realisation that the gold medal was slowly slipping away from them, that if they didn’t do something quickly, they’d lose everything they’d been working on for the past months.

you could almost feel the anger that was surging through your boyfriend as he turned around to pick up the ball.

“come on, baby. come on,” you muttered, holding onto your jersey with his name and number on it so hard that your knuckles turned white.

for a second, you thought that your gaze met his, as if he knew exactly where you’d be sitting. you couldn’t tell for sure, but you saw a flicker of something that you couldn’t quite recognise in your boyfriend’s eye.

“you can do it, cheol” you whispered.

for the first time, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t done fighting yet, and for that alone, you were eternally proud of him. before you could blink, cheol was already on the other side of the pitch, throwing the ball to mark, who forced his way through the defence.

thankfully, the opposite team was starting to panic as well, and mark managed to win a penalty, so the match was back to a tie.

“it’s okay,” you told yourself. “if it’s a tie then there’s still a chance.”

everyone was standing at this point. people were holding onto their loved ones, some were covering their mouths or had their arms over their heads. most of the bleachers were screaming in unison for their teams, while the rest kept their mouths shut, looking pale and rather… not okay.

you were probably a mix between the two, but you couldn’t care less. your voice was hoarse and you knew you wouldn’t be able to talk tomorrow, but if you didn’t scream you’d literally combust from all the pent up anxiety. you were shaking like a leaf, your legs were bouncing up and down, and if you didn’t have the jersey to hold onto you were sure you’d scratch the skin off your face.

“loser!” you yelled, earning a disapproving look from some of the people around you. again - you couldn’t care less.

twenty seconds.

you weren’t pro by no means, but you’ve been watching seungcheol play long enough to know that twenty seconds was not enough. not for him, not for mark, not for jae - the only thing that could save them now was a miracle.

the boys’ coach yelled for time, his face serious and wiped out of any emotions, showing nothing more than pure professionalism. you had no idea how he did it - if it was you, you’d either faint, puke or straight up leave, but that was probably why you never pursued sports. not that you were a big fan of being sporty yourself. last time seungcheol brought you to the gym you pulled at least three muscles you didn’t think could be pulled.

when both teams left for their respective sidelines, the whole arena exhaled in unison. it was quite funny, though, how the fans were sweating more than the athletes, or how they looked even more tired than them, you included. it was just a joke you liked to tell cheol, that you’d turn grey before thirty, but maybe it wasn’t that far from the truth after all.

you peeked over to the boys’ side to see seungcheol yelling something and waving his arms around from one player to another.

“that’s my man.”

whether they’d lose or win, the fact that they wouldn’t go without a fight was all that mattered.

when the referee blew his whistle, the tension came back as quickly as it disappeared.

you gritted your teeth as the game resumed, with the opposite team throwing the ball between them as if it were merely a warm-up. there was no way that with twenty seconds left on the clock and the game being tied, they’d try to even think about risking and shooting at the goal. they’d do anything to drag these twenty seconds out as much as they could, because overtime was a much better option for them than risking and losing.

but they didn’t know much of a fighter choi seungcheol was.

the centre of the opposite team made a mistake of taking a second too long looking at the right back-court, which told seungcheol everything he needed to know. he lunged forward the second the ball left his opponent's hands and caught it before it could reach the other player.

for a brief second, the whole pierre mauroy stadium held its breath, enveloping the whole place in complete silence, like in a cheap action movie right before the main lead defeats the villain. no one dared to make a sound, not a single squeak, as everyone’s eyes were glued to your boyfriend in disbelief.

then it sank in.

he did it. he grabbed the ball, he had the ball.

what happened next went by so fast that you felt like you blinked and it was over.

no one suspected that seungcheol would dare to make such a bold move, considering that by doing so he weakened his team's defence, which he couldn’t afford in his situation. and that was the best decision he could’ve made. the opponents remained rooted to the spot as cheol ran towards the goal as fast as he could. now it was just him and the goalie.

“please, please, please.”

when seungcheol was a few steps away from the nine-metre line, when he was seconds away from possibly ruining everything he had worked for, when you saw him dribble the ball one last time before he shot - you closed your eyes tightly and covered them with your hands for good measure.

for a moment you didn't know what was happening. if he scored or not. the entire arena was still silent, as if someone clicked pause, before the stands on your side erupted in a frenzy of screams and tears.

"oh my god."

your hands were shaking as you uncovered your eyes. a part of you was afraid to do it, afraid to look at the score, afraid that those screams of joy were just a figment of your desperate imagination.

41:40.

tears filled your eyes as the referee blowed his whistle for the last time.

a quiet gasp left your mouth. “they won,” your mind was screaming over and over again.

cheol was kneeling in front of the goal, his broad back facing you, breathing heavily as if he was trying to understand what was happening. his team on the other side of the pitch was going crazy - the guys were throwing themselves at each other, lifting each other up, some were sitting with their heads between their knees so the cameras wouldn't catch their tears.

ever so slowly, seungcheol turned around, his eyes immediately finding yours amidst the crowd of celebrating fans. the world around you stopped. the noise faded away. people disappeared. it was only you and him. cheol’s big hazel eyes looked like they were holding every star of the universe in them, every ounce of love and joy that this world had to offer. he let the tears stream freely down his rosy cheeks, not bothered to wipe them away.

he shook his head in disbelief and you couldn’t help but laugh. “you won, silly,” you wanted to tell him.

a couple of guys finally ran up to him, and tackled him in a group hug, screaming so loudly that you could hear them clearly from the other side of the pitch. heeseung shook seungcheol’s shoulders as if to wake him from his trance, shouting and laughing around him, but cheol was still staring at you and you only. despite the thousands of people in the arena, your boyfriend made you feel as if only you existed, like no one else, nothing else - not even his golden medal mattered to him.

finally, cheol grabbed jake’s outstretched hand and got up, making the stadium go even more crazy. he was their hero, their pride and treasure, and still - he was looking only at you.

"what are you doing, you stupid?" you thought, as he smiled like an idiot at you and murmured something to jake.

the boy beside him only shook his head, and patted him on the back.

“what are you-,” you hiccuped, wiping away the tears.

before you could blink, seungcheol stood before you, tearful but with a beautiful gummy smile that you adored so much spread across his handsome face. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he had a thousand things on his mind but couldn't articulate a single one.

instead, he just started crying even harder.

"oh, seungcheol," you sighed, and threw yourself into his arms.

you stood like that for a moment - intertwined in each other's arms as if you were one.

“we did it,” seungcheol cried into your shoulder. “baby, we did it, we won,” his body shook, as you gripped his shoulders tighter.

“yes, cheollie,” you heard your own voice shake, trying not to fall apart completely, and kissed the top of his head. “you did it.”

you could feel the cameras on you, the stares and the whispers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about them. not when the love of your life was holding onto you for dear life, not when he had just won a gold olympic medal. not when he had just made his biggest dream come true.

“i’m so proud of you,” you choked on a sob. “so proud.”

seungcheol shook his head, still in disbelief of what had just happened. he pulled himself from your embrace, face red and sweaty, proving just how much he put into the game. he was the miracle they needed - your boyfriend, your choi seungcheol who worked day and night to fulfil his and his team’s dreams, was that little ray of hope that managed to do the impossible.

“i love you,” he said, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “i fucking love you so much.”

taking his face in your hands, you pressed your forehead to his, because nothing you’d say would convey what you were feeling. maybe the right words would come eventually, but for now you didn’t know what else to do than cry with him. your heart was beaming. beaming with love, with pride, with so much fondness to the point where it was most likely unhealthy, and still you wanted more more more.

“you stink,” you laughed through your tears, pushing cheol’s sweaty hair that fell over his eyes. still, he had never looked more beautiful to you.

“oh, i stink?” he smiled wickedly, and shook his head right in front of your face.

beads of sweat that were clinging onto his forehead and tips of hair fell straight on you. “cheol! cheol, stop!” you squealed, pushing the man away from you. no surprise - he did not budge an inch.

“now we’re stinky together,” he mumbled, and pressed his pouty lips against yours, disregarding your whines of protests.

well, it was safe to say that the whole internet went crazy after that.

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