#he makes me laugh he makes me cry and through relating so much to his character he essentially tricked me into loving myself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miss--serotonin · 9 months ago

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I genuinely don’t think I can sing enough praises for this entire work.

Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours.

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world.

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway.

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.”

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal.

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room.

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…”

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room.

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there.

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face.

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?”

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?”

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest.

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace.

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought.

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.”

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly.

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen.

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you.

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him.

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes.

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.”

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back.

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken.

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.”

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?”

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.”

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed.

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat.

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation.

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching.

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail.

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours.

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.”

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment.

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.”

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body.

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin.

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water.

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs.

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago.

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely.

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric.

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.”

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did.

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound.

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.”

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin.

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time.

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore.

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin.

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.”

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs. He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea.

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?”

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.”

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core.

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined.

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer.

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you.

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now.

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen.

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts.

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open.

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.”

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“

“Better.”

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs.

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time.

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further.

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide.

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered.

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her.

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue.

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched.

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!”

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath.

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks.

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.”

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.”

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?”

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks.

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.”

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot.

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be.

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs.

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you.

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him.

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions.

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.”

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath.

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.”

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance.

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions.

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?”

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint.

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.”

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further.

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further.

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you.

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but.

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.”

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt.

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless.

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.”

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again.

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours.

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.”

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips.

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.”

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks.

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need.

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder.

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.”

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible.

“Again.” He growled.

“I’m yours!” You keened.

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form.

“Mine.” He whispered.

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap.

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed.

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t.

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.”

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you.

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his.

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words.

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck.

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked.

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you.

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms.

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body.

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse?

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink.

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed.

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower.

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought.

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy.

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you.

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his.

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.”

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?”

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love.

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.”

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.”

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own.

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.”

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished.

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said.

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more.

“Sleep well, my darling.”

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

#I feel like I should be entitled to financial compensation for how deeply this has impacted me #when I say I thought of the original concept you shared All The Time I mean it #and now I know this is going to live in my head rent free for ages #neuvillette getting triggered at any mention of the archons in bed is my favorite trope #the subtle angst of us being mortal and neuvillette’s hubris in think he can keep us makes me a little weepy but that’s just me #agsjdgs his first audible words after nutting being. I’m sorry. makes me laugh and cry because it’s too relatable #he’s so sweet #I think I’m in love #I am in fact gnawing on the bars of my enclosure #a snickers was not enough to get me through this unscathed I think I need to hibernate #also I was waiting for the pearls to hit the floor since the first moment they got mentioned and YOU DELIVERED #honestly so much paid off #Wriothesley’s love song? at the gala? paid off #ningguang realizing who wears the pants in this duo and who she needs to connect with? made so much sense I loved it #the Childe slander was a necessary evil #my absolute favorite part might be the nest though #he’s such a dork I love him for it #standing there all embarrassed and covering his face about it #I’m afraid no man will ever compare after this masterpiece

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foxy-eva · 4 days ago

Text

Warm Embrace

Summary: Spencer and his wife explore ways to be intimate with each other after a traumatic event

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics!

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) referenced past SA of Reader (non-graphic), implied flashbacks, trauma related sexual problems, conversations about sex and intimacy, nudity, kissing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh riding

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

“Spencer?” Your voice echoed through the apartment when you stepped through the door and found no sign of your husband.

A distant sound came from the bathroom. “In here!”

After a quiet knock on the door and his confirmation that you could step in, you found Spencer sitting in the bathtub. The room was filled with the lavender scent of the bath soap and what you could see of his body was covered in bubbles. It almost looked comical how his knees stuck out of the water, making it obvious that the tub was not big enough to accommodate his long limbs.

“I was too tired to take a shower,” he explained after discovering your curious expression.

“I can see that,” you laughed. “I thought you hated taking baths.”

“Honestly, I think I’m starting to understand why you like them so much. This isn't too bad.”

You stood there for a few moments, smiling at the sight in front of you. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, you slowly began shedding your clothes.

“Mind if I join you?” you wondered.

Nothing about this situation would be unusual for any other married couple. Just a few months ago neither of you would have questioned your actions. Back then initiating any form of intimacy with each other felt natural and familiar.

Things were different now, though.

Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Are you sure about this?”

There was a reason to ask. For the past months any attempt to get close to each other resulted in you crying for the rest of the night. Something as simple as him placing his hand on your thigh was enough to startle you.

A sigh rolled over your lips as you dropped your shirt to the floor. “No,” you confessed. “But I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” he reminded you.

That was not what you meant and he knew that. Of course he understood the meaning of your words. Spencer was well aware of the fact that ever since that son of a bitch hurt you, you fought a constant battle between wanting his nearness and pushing him away.

Your husband gave you the space you needed and was there to hold you whenever you’d let him. It couldn't have been easy for him either but he never once complained about this new reality you had a live.

A reality where that person took something from you that you’d never get back. It was hard to shake this feeling of being tainted after having your physical integrity stripped away like that. You were distant and closed off when it came to intimacy, despite your best efforts to get back to what once was normal. It had been months since Spencer even saw you unclothed.

That was about to change.

Slowly, you pulled down your pants before reaching back to undo your bra. Spencer's sight followed the piece of clothing as it dropped to the floor before settling on your face again.

“Stop profiling me,” you warned him with a playful undertone in your voice.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

By pulling down your panties, you shed your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare in front of your husband. It was a strange feeling to reveal yourself to him. It felt new yet familiar to allow him to see you.

However, he didn't dare to look, even when you approached the tub. It wasn't clear whether he just tried to be respectful or if seeing you like this for the first time after months was too much for him to bear. His reaction reminded you that he never answered your question about you joining him. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t okay with this.

Spencer’s eyes widened as he noticed the change of your mood before you did. Within a split second your heart started pounding and you stepped back to reach for your bathrobe.

“Sorry, this was a stupid idea,” you muttered as you turned around to shield your body from his sight and your heart from the rejection.

“My love,” he cooed from behind you.

The sound of splashing water gave away that he was exiting the tub. From the corner of your eyes you saw how he reached for his own robe.

You felt his presence behind you. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded as you turned around, finding him wrapped in his robe with water still dripping from his jawline. Spencer reached out his hands to pull you into his arms.

“What just happened?” He wondered, his voice laced with concern.

Before you could think about it, you mumbled, “You didn't want to look at me.”

Your husband thought about your words for a moment, replaying the scene that had just unfolded in his mind. What you said wasn’t true. He wanted to look at you, to admire you fully like he had done countless times before.

“I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable,” he confessed as he pulled back to be able to find your eyes.

It was hard to read your expression which was not surprising considering you were mostly confused about your current state yourself.

“I miss the way you used to look at my body. I miss being close to you,” you whispered and paused for a moment. “I miss… sex.”

He closed his eyes before placing an innocent kiss on your forehead. “I know,” he breathed. Me too, he thought.

“Do you still think about it?” You wanted to know.

“Sex?”

Nodding, you watched his facial features intently. Ever since your attack, there were many occasions when the two of you had tiptoed around this subject. But never before had you been so blunt about it.

It seemed like he was looking for the right words. “Yes, I do,” was what he settled on.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “With me?”

The insecurity in your question wasn’t lost on Spencer but he still couldn't hold back a breathy laugh. “Of course, silly girl. You're my wife.”

“It’s just been so long that I would understand if you ever thought about doing it with someone else.”

“Stop that right now,” he said with a firm yet loving tone. “I would never cheat on you.”

A shaky breath escaped your throat before you dared to say what had been bugging you for weeks now. “What if I’ll never be ready? What if things won’t ever be like before?”

“That would be okay, too,” he reassured you. “There are many ways to create nearness and intimacy. Sex is just one way but it’s not necessary. At least for me it’s not.”

“So you’d be okay to live without sex?”

“Before I met you I thought that was my only option,” he quipped.

You knew there had been a handful of women before you but you appreciated his joke nonetheless. It made you smile.

Spencer let his fingertips brush over your cheeks. “But to answer your question, yes, I would be okay with that.”

His words were genuine. The way he looked at you with the most loving expression made your heart jump. The amber of his irises radiated a warmth you could get drunk on. You nestled your head against his chest and he held you even closer against his body. He was right. Sex wasn’t necessary to create nearness. However, you were still curious about what else you felt safe enough to try.

“I want to get into the bathtub with you,” you whispered. “And I want you to look at me.”

Loosening the embrace, you looked at your husband. With a nod he confirmed that he wanted that, too.

With shaking fingers you brushed over his robe before gripping the material. “And I want to see you, too.”

Together you helped each other out of your robes until you stood bare in front of each other. You took a moment to admire the man in front of you. It had been a while since you had seen him like that. Unlike you he didn't deliberately hide his body from your sight but there hadn’t been many occasions in the past few months that allowed you to see him unclothed.

His body looked familiar yet different at the same time. His tummy was a little bit softer than you remembered and you imagined what it would feel like underneath your palm.

Spencer dared to let his eyes drop down to take in every inch of skin within sight. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and you noticed how it broke out in goosebumps.

“You're so beautiful,” he purred as he tentatively brushed over your arms.

Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before breathing against them, “So are you.”

He took your hand in his to walk you over to the bathtub. Your husband got in first, bending his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller than he was. There was enough space to join him, a relieved sigh falling from your lips when you felt the warm water enveloping your body.

First you sat a little awkwardly opposite one another for a few moments before you felt confident enough to get closer. Gently, you placed your hands on his knees to part them before moving closer to lean against his body sitting between his legs. Spencer’s heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage as you nestled against his chest.

“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure.

“Yeah, I uh… I’m not sure where to put my hands,” he chuckled and you noticed how they hovered above the edge of the bathtub.

Taking his hands in yours, you guided them towards the water, placing them underneath your chest. Even though you expected his touch, you still jerked when you felt his palms make contact with your body.

Instinctively, your husband wanted to retract his hands again but you held them still with your own palms pressed against them. Once the initial shock faded, you were certain that you wanted to be held exactly like that.

A part of you still wanted to fight this vulnerable situation but a much bigger, much more confident part longed to be close to the love of your life.

It was as if Spencer sensed your ambiguity. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. Then you thought about the way your body flinched when he touched you. It had happened before each time Spencer had touched you in places that he had touched, too. “I just feel like my body has to relearn a couple of things.”

Spencer nodded before finally being able to relax a bit. He leaned back while holding you against him, relishing the sensation of having you close without any barriers between you. Just for a moment he forgot about what had happened to you and to your own surprise, so did you.

For the following weeks you made it a new habit to take baths with each other. There was something so sweet about getting clean together, it became a sacred ritual you wanted to repeat over and over.

Slowly but surely you got more comfortable around Spencer. There was a time when you didn't think it was possible that the two of you would cuddle every night and every morning without constantly having to fear that you’d freak out at any given moment.

But just like that it happened. Spencer didn't have to think twice about hugging you from behind and leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. He didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms when he woke up before you.

He did however wake up in shock and almost jumped out of bed when one morning he realized he had sleepily pressed his erection against your thigh. Having woken up before him, you had noticed it, too. You could have easily moved away but found no reason to do so.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured as he moved away from you, his voice still sounding raspy from his slumber.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Spencer. I know basic biology,” you snickered. “Now come back here.”

Hesitantly, he moved back towards your open arms. The warmth you radiated was too hard to resist so it took very little convincing for him to find his place inside your embrace again.

Gentle fingertips danced along his arms, making him hum in contentment. It had always amazed you how his skin felt so particularly soft and tender in the morning. His curls hung unruly from his head and you couldn't resist intertwining your fingers with them.

You thought back to the many times you had woken up like this. Back then when it still was normal for your hands to become curious enough to explore every curve and dip of each other’s bodies.

It was odd to think about before. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime away, other times it felt like nothing had ever changed. It made you feel like the man who hurt you had the power to bring a new time reckoning upon you. You didn't want him to.

It only spurred you further on to fully reclaim your body again.

Your fingers found Spencer’s jaw to tilt his head just enough for you to be able to kiss him. His lips felt so soft as he slowly reciprocated your actions. It was sweet and innocent at first but your desire to feel more of him only grew the longer you kissed. Slightly shifting your leg you could feel his hardness again, making him whimper at the sudden pressure against it.

As your hand found its way under his shirt, you brushed over the softness of his tummy. Shaking fingertips followed the trail of hair leading further down before changing their direction and moving upwards to feel his chest. The beating of his heart was faster than usual, almost erratic.

With cautious motions he mirrored your eagerness and let his palm wander beneath your shirt as well. You deepened the kiss when you felt his fingers wander over your waist, leaving goosebumps on their path. Spencer became hungry, almost desperate as his tongue brushed over yours, melting into you in a way he hadn’t for too long.

It was what you longed for too, what you had been hoping to finally be ready for.

Then he touched your breast and it all came crashing down again.

“Stop!”

Healing really wasn’t linear.

In an instant Spencer retracted his hand and leaned back to give you some space. Widened eyes looked back at him and it took both of you a second to realize what had just happened. Before he could apologize, you did.

“I’m sorry… I really thought I was okay with that.”

For a moment Spencer closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he looked at you again, a soft expression on his face. “Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for that,” he cooed.

Unlike other times, you were able to calm down quickly. Instead of pushing your husband further away, you still yearned for his proximity. He seemed surprised when you moved closer to him again to lay your head down on his chest. Content to still have the privilege to hold you close, he wrapped his arms around you before a relieved sigh fell from his lips.

There was no need to leave the comfort of your shared bed just yet, so you just lay there together, basking in each other’s warmth.

Spencer placed a gentle kiss into your hair before breathing, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You tried your best to be kind to yourself in that moment. It was a learning opportunity for you. Just a few weeks ago lying close to your husband like that was unthinkable. Even if they felt like baby steps at the time, it was still progress.

The images of recent intimate encounters flooded your mind and let a pleasant calmness spread through your body. Spencer’s kisses tasted sweet and made you feel insatiable, always longing for more. Feeling his skin pressed against yours as he held you close in the bathtub enveloped you in a safe feeling unlike anything else.

You thought back to those rare moments when you considered taking things further lately, just like you had tried just now. There was something you had wondered about.

“I have noticed that when we cuddle…,” you began your sentence, unsure of how to continue. “Even when we’re naked in the bathtub together, you uhm… never get aroused? That was very different before.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he let out an awkward laugh. “I try really hard not to. I think about baseball a lot.”

His response confused you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raised your eyebrows at him. “You think about baseball when we’re taking baths together? You don’t even like sports.”

Spencer just shrugged and added, “Sometimes I try to solve equations, too.”

“Please don’t do that anymore,” you pleaded as you laid back down beside him. “It makes me feel good to see you’re still interested in me.”

“Of course I am still interested. I just really do not want to make you uncomfortable or feel pressured in any way.”

Your words were genuine when you said, “I don’t think that will happen. I actually really liked seeing you in all of your morning glory earlier.”

Your husband smiled at you. “Yeah?”

A smirk formed on your face. “It reminded me of the countless times we were both late for work because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves after waking up.”

“That was fun,” Spencer chuckled. “What wasn’t fun though was the conversation I had to have with Hotch after being late four days in a row.”

His words made you laugh, too. Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, your husband hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you something?”

Tilting your head to find his eyes, you responded, “Of course.”

“You don’t have to answer this but I’m wondering… Do you ever get aroused in those moments, too?”

You were used to talking openly about intimacy with your husband, that had always been a normal part of your relationship. His question didn't feel odd and you wanted to respond to it.

For a long time after what happened, your longing to feel his nearness wasn’t connected to any sexual desires. At times you even felt like your libido had gotten lost entirely. Recently that had changed.

More and more you had become aware of the little spark inside you that was ignited when you were with him. It was very different from the burning flame that was there before but your desire grew each time you were together.

“Lately, yes,” you sincerely answered. Thinking about it some more, you decided to share another detail with him. “I even started uhm… touching myself again.”

Spencer seemed a little surprised by your response. “You did? That's good to hear.” His palm brushed gently over your arm when he added, “I can imagine that's a good way to feel a connection to your body and your needs.”

For a second you thought he might start one of his ramblings to share all his knowledge about the health benefits of masturbating. He didn't, though.

“Yeah, it feels nice. Almost normal,” you said instead. “I obviously still have a long way to go when it comes to sex but… I finally feel like I’ll actually get there, eventually.”

“There's no rush,” he reminded you. “We have all the time in the world.”

Your lips met his in a tender kiss. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

After a few more moments of enjoying each other's company, it was time to get up and get ready for the workday. That night you found yourself tangled up in bed with your husband again.

As you breathed in his scent and felt the heat radiating off his skin, you noticed it again – the little spark inside your chest flared up and spread a tingling sensation through your body.

Your mouth found Spencer's neck to leave a trail of kisses along it, before it moved over his jawline and found his lips at last. He hummed when you kissed him and you could feel his fingertips twitching against your waist.

It didn't take long until you deepened the kiss, a quiet moan slipping through your lips when Spencer’s tongue found yours.

With your body pressed against his you didn't allow any distance between the two of you. It still wasn’t enough for you, though. There was too much fabric in the way of really feeling close to him.

Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt to grip it and impatiently push it upwards. Spencer moved with you as you pulled it over his head. When your fingers moved to the waistband of his pajama pants next, he interrupted the kiss to find your eyes.

A smile was painted over your face when you nodded, reassuring him that you were okay. You weren’t sure yet where exactly this was going but you felt safe enough to explore your options.

“We can stop or slow down at any point,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

After kissing him again, you sat up so you could continue undressing him. Slowly you pulled down his pants, an audible breath falling from your lips when you saw he was already half-hard.

Spencer scanned your face for any sign of discomfort but found none. What he saw instead was excitement and curiosity. It made him smile.

He sat up and brushed his hands over the fabric of your shirt. By lifting your arms over your head you gave him the sign he needed to remove the piece of fabric. He gently motioned for you to lay back down before he made contact with your hips, carefully brushing over your pajama shorts.

There was no hesitation to be found when you lifted your hips for him to pull them down, without ever breaking eye contact. You thought about how different this situation was from being naked with him in the bathtub. Some parts of you remained hidden from him even then.

You wanted him to see you, even when being exposed to him like that still felt a little scary.

After he had dropped the last piece of clothing on the floor, you dared to open your thighs for him to see every part of you. A rosy shade spread over his cheeks as he dared to look at you. It reminded you of when you were with him for the very first time many years ago.

Just like then, he breathed, “You're so beautiful.”

You could feel how some arousal had already gathered at your center and wondered if Spencer could see the glistening. By the way his pupils dilated you had a hunch that he did.

Then, after he had fully taken in your beauty, it was as if he was frozen in place. He used to be so confident in situations like that, knowing your body better than his own and never questioning his next move. Things were very different now and you both sensed it.

His eyes met yours and it became obvious how unsure he was of how to proceed.

Opening your arms, you cooed, “Come here, love.”

He seemed relieved when he lay back down beside you again. You wanted to kiss him but he hesitated.

After a moment, he suggested, “I think it would be helpful if you talked to me more. I need you to tell me exactly what you want to do.”

“I’m figuring this out as we go, too,” you explained. “Right now I don't know where this is going. I only know that I really want to kiss you.”

His nose brushed against yours. “I would really like that, too.”

Just a split second later you got lost in another kiss. The way your bodies were pressed against one another while your lips were connected let you briefly forget where your body ended and his began. After shifting your position, you became well aware of that again.

Spencer was fully hard now and his erection was firmly pressed against your thigh. You moved your leg slightly, prompting him to whimper into your mouth. The hand on your waist moved down to your hip and his fingertips pressed into your skin.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. “Can we slow down for a moment?”

His grip on your hip lightened immediately before he moved his hand back up to your waist. Spencer placed one last peck on your mouth and pulled back. “Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head. “No, I just need a little break. To make sure it doesn't get too much.”

The truth was that you felt really good in that moment. Excited, loved and so, so turned on. It just felt safer to take things slowly. Gently you pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. You found your home inside his arms.

Your lips grazed over his cheek as you breathed, “How are you feeling, Spencer?”

He chuckled at your question. “You have no idea how good I’m feeling right now.”

As you let your head rest on his shoulder, you dared to look down at his body. The extent of his desire laid on his stomach and you noticed how a bead of precum had formed at his tip. Your fingers itched to touch him, to remember how hot and heavy his cock always felt inside your palm.

A curious hand made its way down his chest, over the side of his stomach, brushing along his thigh. For a second you hesitated but then you let your palm hover over his hardness.

Then you felt a pit form in your stomach and decided to retract your hand again. It might have just been your nervousness but that didn't change the fact that you couldn't continue in this moment.

Your husband had watched each of your motions intently. It was obvious that he was burning to find relief.

Tilting your head to find his eyes, you purred, “I want you to feel good.”

“It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to,” he reminded you.

You knew that, of course. There was still something else you could do together.

As you began kissing his neck, his throat vibrated under your lips and a moan escaped his mouth. Then, you whispered into his ear, “I want you to touch yourself.”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your request and the rosy color on his cheeks turned a shade darker. It seemed like he needed a little more encouragement, so you lay back down inside his arm and opened your legs to give yourself access.

“Okay, I’ll start,” you teased as you let your hand wander down your own body.

Mesmerized by the sight, his eyes followed the path of your fingers. When you parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot, Spencer hissed a curse.

The honeyed wetness between your legs made it easy for your fingertips to move through your folds. It felt relieving to touch yourself like that. Just like Spencer you were yearning for release.

When your husband heard your heavy sighs as you pleasured yourself, he couldn't hold back anymore. You watched as his hand found his cock, a view that let your heart pound inside your chest.

First, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and squeezed, prompting droplets of his arousal to run down his tip. Then, he swiped his thumb over the leaking head before he slowly began moving up and down. Your mouth hung open as you watched that sinful scene unfold in front of you.

As Spencer accelerated the pace of his fist, sounds of pleasure filled the room. His eyebrows were scrunched up and desperation was written all over his face.

He had never looked more beautiful.

Distracted by the mesmerizing view, the hand at your core stopped moving. Instead of continuing, you let it wander away from your body to touch Spencer’s thigh. Before you could overthink it, your hand kept moving to his center.

A heavy breath fell from his lips as your fingertips cautiously brushed over the velvety skin of his balls, making his body jerk underneath you. Smiling to yourself, you remembered how sensitive he was.

Spencer stopped moving his hand, waiting to see how you’d proceed. When you touched the soft curls at his base, he whimpered. It was then that you realized that you were not scared anymore and that your nervousness had turned into excitement.

“Can I continue?”

Spencer audibly gulped before removing his hand. “Yes… please.”

When you wrapped your fingers around his length, both of you moaned in unison. Holding him in your hand like that felt both familiar and novel at the same time. You started moving your palm and quickly remembered how exactly he liked to be touched.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels good!”

With all the built-up tension and those months of abstinence, it only took a few moments until Spencer was getting close to reaching his point of no return. Familiar with all the telltale signs of his impending climax, you continued caressing him. Coming closer to his undoing, his cock twitched inside your palm and his entire body started quivering.

His release began spilling over your hand and onto his stomach while he kept pulsing against your fingers. You kissed his jaw and his neck before you reached for the tissues on your nightstand to do some damage control of the mess you had created.

Your husband’s chest was still heaving when you finished cleaning him up. Concern was written all over his face when he found your eyes.

He pulled you back into his embrace as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I am. That was really fun,” you snickered.

Spencer's hand brushed over your back as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”

The truth was that your entire body was aching for his touch. You could feel the heat burning between your legs and were aware that your arousal had started coating the insides of your thighs. It had been a long time since you’d felt so turned on.

And yet, the thought of him actually doing something about it made you nervous.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I would like to kiss you again, though.”

He let out a breathy laugh before finding your mouth once more. Feeling his lips on yours only blazed up the fire burning inside you. You shifted your position until you were hovering over your husband, one of his thighs pressed between yours.

Tentatively you began rocking your hips against his leg, sighing as you realized how pleasant the friction was.

“Is that okay?” You breathed against his lips as you kept moving.

“More than okay,” he reassured you. “Use my body however you like.”

You sat up as you ground against his skin, feeling him tense his thigh underneath you. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your hips so he could help you move. Soon you had created a mess on his leg as you spread your wetness along his skin.

With your entire entire body twitching, your motions became erratic. Looking down at Spencer, you found him staring at you with lust-filled eyes and a wicked grin painted over his face.

As you danced along the edge of euphoria, you forgot your surroundings. It was only you and him right then. “I love you,” you whimpered and before your husband could respond, you collapsed into his arms as pleasure overcame you. You kept pressing your core against his leg as your whole body shook.

Spencer held you firmly inside his arms as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you more.”

After your heart rate had come down to a normal frequency and you weren’t panting anymore, you kissed your husband.

“How are you feeling?” He wanted to know.

“Good. And also a little sticky,” you snickered, hinting at the mess you had created between your legs.

“Yeah, me too,” Spencer chuckled. “How about I run us a bath so we can get cleaned up?”

The prospect of that made your heart flutter. “That sounds wonderful.”

Author's Note: Writing this story took me two years and I am so relieved I was finally able to get it to paper. I hope reading it felt as cathartic for you as writing it was for me. Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a reblog and a comment.

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months ago

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✉️Divorce of Convenience

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?

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Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you.

Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later.

There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header.

Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised.

“What’s got you all smiley?”

You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap.

“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”

He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it.

“And?”

“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.”

You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.

“What if we got a divorce?”

Oh.

Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?”

You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.”

Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?

“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed.

“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.”

You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you.

“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”

He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.”

You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life.

“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.”

“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.”

He gave you a look. “I understand.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?”

A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.”

Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips.

The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?”

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?”

Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure.

Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media.

“So, how are we going to do this?”

What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar.

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t tell Lando.”

With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it.

The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment.

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y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding

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y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩

ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??

charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law

maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them

piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭

y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early

Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home.

Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.

“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?”

Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring.

Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.”

Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.”

“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor.

“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.”

Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.”

Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?”

Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.”

“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.”

Shit.

You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment.

“Did Oscar cheat?”

“What?”

He gasped. “Did you cheat?”

You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.”

The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated.

“Why did you two get a divorce?”

The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate.

You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?”

They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off.

Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?”

The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?”

You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet.

You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door.

He pressed a kiss against your cheek.

“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you.

You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm.

“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile.

“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.”

Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong.

He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors.

Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?”

You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.”

Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?”

Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.”

Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?”

“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.”

“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.”

No one said a word.

Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.”

Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?”

Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.”

You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?”

The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up.

As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall.

“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?”

“Lando, get away from the pictures.”

“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?”

“You happened.”

“Osc!”

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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR

y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors

y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺

y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)

oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)

y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)

landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌

y/nl/n good to see you too loser

piastriupdates my parents ☺️

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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✎ baby

- gojo satoru x reader

a domestic life with your husband and baby

genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo

note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫

and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here

general masterlist

Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.

"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.

And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.

He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.

"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.

"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.

"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.

Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.

"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.

Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"

Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.

"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."

"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."

"...A lot of bad things."

"Heh, is that so?"

The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.

"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."

Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."

He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.

"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."

"Hmph."

"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"

The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.

Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.

This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?

Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”

He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.

“He is so… defenseless.”

“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”

Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.

“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.

Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.

“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”

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taskforce420 · 2 months ago

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tap out. simon 'ghost' riley

it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.

it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.

so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.

as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.

your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.

and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.

and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.

he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.

ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.

"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.

"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.

you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.

"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.

"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.

like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.

or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.

or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.

or...or even the time with ghost.

when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.

you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.

"i know..."

lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)

#call of duty #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #task force 141 #fluff #cute #cutie patootie

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rainyorca · 4 months ago

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You know you hypnotize me always 𓇼 Kenji Sato X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, smut, thigh riding, Ken's a bit of a tease, established relationship.

Words: 1,317

Notes: I have been thinking about this for DAYS but please ignore how messy it is! Kenji is making me go insane!

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

When you're upset about something, tears staining your face, your bottom eyelashes clumped together, your nose running and your throat sore from crying, Kenji is there to comfort you. He sits you on his lap, running his large hands over your back to soothe you. In the moment it’s something so innocent, so precious.

But that innocence is just in those short, significant moments, for sitting on his lap can bring a plethora of other things unrelated to sadness, but tears are still possible. In truth, he loves it when you sit on his lap, the feeling of holding you close is so incredibly perfect to him. Inhaling your scent, being able to touch you wherever, kiss your neck, your lips, he loves it.

In more ways than one does, he finds it rather beautiful. His favorite just so happens to be something so lewd, so intimate, and sensual. Something you could only do in the comfort of your home.

“Ken,” you breathe tiredly, messy relating to what’s happening below you. It’s hard for you to speak, your voice constantly being caught up in your throat and coming out in quiet gasps and gentle moans.

The couch is hard beneath your touch, your hands holding onto the headrest, grip so tight but shaky. The faint sound of the ocean waves crashing on the rocky cliffs of the island can be heard between silence and your gentle pleas.

Kenji is below you, the warm light from his lamps cast beautiful golden rays on his face, highlighting his beautiful features. There’s a slight sheen of sweat visible on his beautiful skin, glistening in the light with every small movement. His hands rest on your waist, choosing to be rather lazy tonight.

Your legs are on either side of his right thigh, shaking from the work you're putting in. “Haah,” you breathe, throwing your head back slowly and getting a glimpse of the ceiling through your blurred vision, “fuck…”

“Pretty girl,” he hums from below you, “you're starting to get lazy.” He smiles at you teasingly, reaching up and tracing a finger down your throat to your sternum. “Shut up,” you gasp, digging your nails into the couch, your hips moving slowly against his thigh, “you’re not even doing anything.”

He laughs a breathy, slutty laugh. He’s rather amused by you, but also completely and utterly in love. “You want me to move your hips for you?” He questions, his tone dripping with mockery, completely ignoring his own arousal building up at the sight of your glistening body above him.

“N-No,” you exhale, struggling to keep your composure. “Look at you, my girl,” he says, reaching up and grabbing your breasts with his large, rough hands,” making such a mess of yourself on my thigh, so beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you mewl, starting to move your hips against him faster, pressing down on him with all your weight. When your clit rubs just perfectly against his skin you practically cry out, your mouth agape in pleasure and oversensitivity. “Please keep talking,” you gasp, trying to keep a decent pace, “P-Please.” He smiles, raising his brows in amusement, “you want me to keep talking?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, desperately grinding against his thigh now. “You’re doing so good, princess,” he reaches up and grabs your chin, making you look at him, “Look at me.” You open your eyes, red and tearful. The somewhat serious look on your face makes his brain short circuit, his smile falters but just grows wider into a more mischievous smirk. He swallows, trying to keep his composure and let you work it out yourself.

His thigh is soaked from your arousal, loosening up the friction and making you move against him much smoother now. “Needy girl,” he coos, cupping your face again, “keep going just like that.” Tears threaten to spill from your glassy eyes, the only thing racing through your head was him, his name, his voice, absolutely everything. Your mind was completely and utterly ruined by him and you desired more, wanted him, needed him.

“So fucking perfect, you know that?” his tone was filthy, “I could watch this all day.” He leans in to place a kiss on your collarbone, his lips soft but sinful against your skin. Desperately you cry out his name, sounding more like a sob as tears finally start to spill from your eyes. You can't keep your mouth shut, threads of sinful moans and whimpers constantly spilling from it like a faucet. At this point you had no respect for yourself, unable to even keep a decent pace from how fucked out you were just from grinding against his thigh.

Kenji was dangerous, his existence was absolutely devastating in the best way possible. Even in moments like these when he's barely putting in work, he still knows how to push your buttons, how to get you excited.

“What a mess,” his voice comes out deep but amused, “you're shaking.”

“Mmhm,” you hum, not being able to form words or even a full thought. He grabs your hips suddenly, making you squeak in surprise. He’s now fully in control of your movements, letting you take a break. “Atta girl,” he hums, “what a good girl, let me take care of you now.” Your whole body shudders, his words causing you to whine. Your hands slip down onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, leaving red, crescent-shaped marks.

You clench around nothing, your clit continues to hit his thigh perfectly, dragging against his soft skin. “Ken—ji,” you slur, barely able to pronounce his name anymore, “hahh—fuck.” You're close, you can feel it, your stomach pooling with heat. “I’m gonna…I’m—“You cut yourself off with a shameless moan.

“I’m gonna cum,” you finally sob out, a broken one at that. “Oh yeah?” His grip on you tightens, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Yes,” you mewl, “mmhmm–” He grabs your face, pulling you in until your lips brush. You stare at him with lustful eyes, mouth open against his and lips grazing. “Let go for me princess,” he says, nearly breathless, tone slightly harsh, “Cum for me.”

You erupt into a loud sob, attempting to throw your head back but Kenji has such a rough grip on your face. The coil in your stomach snaps almost immediately at the sound of his words, your body shakes with tremors and pleasure, and strings of moans and mewls fall off your tongue like water. “Ken—“ you gasp against his lips, “Kenji—-!” He connects your lips into a passionate, lust-filled kiss, wet and messy.

You ride out your high on his thigh, his hand on your hip slows to a gentle pace keeping up with your own motion. Your movements come to a stop, slowly but sensually. You pull away from him with a sigh, your head dropping onto his shoulder. He rubs his hand over your back, calming you down from the intense orgasm you just had.

It’s silent, just for a few heartbeats. You roll over, sliding yourself off him and sitting on the couch, still catching your breath. He looks at his thigh, glistening with your release. You catch the direction of his eyes and give him an exhausted, apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking at him with red eyes. He smiles, getting up and placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Never apologize for something like this,” he hums, pulling back. He holds out a hand, helping you stand up.

Unfortunately, your legs don’t move the way you want to, still shaking from your orgasm. You wobble, taking his hand but ultimately falling to your knees. He immediately grabs you, helping you up. “You okay?” He asks, trying not to smile. “Yeah,” you huff, “you can laugh y’know, don’t have to make that weird face.” He chuckles, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato smut #kenji sato x reader #⋆｡𖦹°‧Ukume!#ultraman rising

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hyunniesgirl · 9 months ago

Text

Stupid in love

Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: less than a month into the wedding, you get into a big fight with Changbin. When you think he's going to call it quits, he makes sure to show you that you're very much wrong.

Requested: yes

Warnings: a bit suggestive

All my works are for +18 audiences, minors do NOT interact!!

You park in front of your house, the lights are on, your fiance is home. He's home and he stood you up. You're mad but mostly you're sad, you're overwhelmed and so tired, exhausted, actually.

You enter the house, hearing sounds in the kitchen, you don't even want to look at him right now. You want to yell at him, argue but you don't even have the energy to do that, so you just take your shoes off, leaving your coat hanging by the door and walking silently to the stairs so you can go to your room, wash up and just sleep until morning comes and you can pretend this day never happened.

“You're home?” You hear Changbin's voice as soon as you go up the first step to the second floor.

“Yes”, you say, continuing to go up.

You hear his footsteps coming after you, but you don't stop, you want to close the door right on his face.

“I ordered food”, he says again, confused as to why you didn't kiss him when you arrived or why you're not looking at him.

“I'm not hungry”, you say simply, stopping in front of the mirror to take your jewelry off. You give up on the idea of closing the door on his face, you don't want to hurt him even though you're furious. You take off your earrings, watching him through the reflection of the mirror. He's looking at you with a frown on his face, trying to figure out why you're angry, he's sure he didn't do anything this time.

“Are you mad?” He asks, naively.

“What do you think?” You ask back, glaring at his reflection.

“I think you are”, he pouts.

“Then you already have your answer”, you say, finishing taking the bracelets and rings off your fingers.

You turn around, walking past him and going to the bathroom to wash up, hearing his footsteps after you again. You sigh, why won't he leave you alone?

“I'm not sure what I did wrong this time”, Changbin clarifies, trying to make you tell him what's wrong.

You laugh, looking to the ceiling and trying to calm down. Turning to look at him and leaning on the bathroom counter, looking at your fiance with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I really don't know if I should feel less angry that you genuinely forgot about our cake tasting today and not just chose to ignore what I've been planning for months”, you say through gritted teeth, watching the panic form on the face of the man in front of you.

“I-it was today?” He stutters, patting his pants to find his phone and check on his agenda just to find the event he had scheduled on his calendar to be exactly today. “I didn't mean it”, he says, running his hand through his hair. “I had so many meetings today, I just got home”, he explains.

“I guess your work will always be your top priority”, you scoff, feeling tears starting to brim on your eyes.

“Don't be like that”, Changbin sighs, “you know you are my top priority but I'm not just an employee, I'm the CEO”, he pleads, you know that and you're so tired of that.

“I'm well aware of your position in the company”, you laugh, rolling your eyes. “That’s why I never say anything when you come home late or when I'm all ready for a date and you have to reschedule it because something came up”, you sigh, “I only asked this one thing of you: that you show up when we have something related to the wedding but you couldn't even do that for me”, you cry out, feeling the tears running out of your eyes.

“You're talking like I did this on purpose”, he murmurs, hurt showing in his eyes.

“I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty”, you run your hands through your hair, “you don't know how humiliating it was to wait for you there for three hours, Ryujin and my mom told me to reschedule but I told them that you were going to show up”, you take a deep breath, “jokes on me, I guess I'm the only one who cares about this fucking wedding”

“You're not the only one who cares”. He says with his voice a pitch higher, it happens when he gets nervous. “I'm trying to clean my schedule so we can go on our honeymoon without me having to worry about work. I have so many meetings every day and I have to pass all the work to my secretary so nothing goes wrong while I'm away”

“Maybe we shouldn't be doing this”, you whisper, putting your hands on your sides and squeezing the fabric of your shirt.

“Are you being for real?” He asks, incredulous, anger and resentment flooding his mind.

You regretted saying it the moment the sentence left your mouth, but unfortunately you can't unsay something, all the more something so hurtful as that.

“I-” you step closer to him, but Changbin steps back, shaking his head.

“I need to think”, he turns to the door, walking away and leaving you behind.

You're such an idiot, how could you say that to him? It doesn't matter how angry you are, there's no excuse to hurt someone you love like that. You feel the tears falling down your eyes while your knees give in and you fall on the floor, crying your eyes out. Did you ruin everything? Is he going to call off the wedding? Is he sick of you now?

Hours go by, you walk back and forth in the house, waiting for his car to park in front of the house but it doesn't come, he doesn't show up. Did he leave you? You should expect that much after what you said.

You lie down on your bed, hugging his pillow, feeling his scent and crying until the exhaustion from the day makes you fall asleep.

You're awake with rustling in the room, you open your eyes widely, seeing Changbin packing. Oh, he's leaving you already? Without even trying to talk?

You feel your tears showing up again and a sob escapes your lips, being followed by more sobs and wailing, making the man turn around to look at you scared.

“Hey, what's wrong?” He runs to you, jumping on the bed by your side and hugging your body, squeezing your cheek on his chest while he caresses your hair. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asks, worried and you shake your head.

“You shouldn't be nice if you're going to dump me”, you cry more, sobbing in his arms.

“Excuse me?” He holds you by the shoulders, pushing you away so he can look at your red and puffy face. “What are you talking about?”

“You're packing because you're calling off the wedding, right?” You point to the bags, “you hate me now, I know you do”, you cry more, burying your face on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.

“Bunny, look at me”, he repeats his action from before, pushing you so he can look at your eyes. “Why would I leave my beautiful and kind fiance?” He asks, smiling gently at you.

“Because I was mean, I didn't really mean that we shouldn't get married, I really want to marry you”, you start mumbling, making him chuckle.

“That's great, because I still really want to marry you too”, he clarifies, coming closer and kissing your forehead. “I was packing because I'll be kidnapping you today”, he smirks, watching your eyes glow with expectation.

“Where are we going?” You ask him but he shakes his head.

“It's not a kidnapping if you know where I'm taking you”, he looks at the watch on his wrist, “you have exactly ten minutes to get ready, if I come back here and you're not done I'll take you with me anyway”, he informs you.

“Binnie!”, you pout, “I can't even take a shower in ten minutes”

“Too bad for you then, you better get to work. Tik tok”, he jokes, making you huff, jumping from the bed and running to the bathroom.

You take the quickest shower you have ever took, hurrying to the bathroom counter to brush your teeth with one hand while brushing your hair with the other, thinking about what you're going to wear. You're sure this is his revenge, he's torturing you because you were mean to him.

You figure you still have two minutes before he shows up, so you put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

“Times up”, Changbin's head pops on the door, a smug smile on his lips.

“I didn't even put any makeup on”, you plead, looking at the things you need right in front of you.

“Nope, don't even think about it”, he walks up to you, chuckling when you pout. You're ready to fight him on that, when he grabs you by the hips, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Binnie! What are you doing?” You kick and wiggle trying to make him release you.

“It's not a kidnapping if you go with me willingly”, he points out, making you laugh, he's unbelievable. This man is insane.

“I can't believe you”, you sigh when he drops you on the passenger's seat of his car, fastening your seatbelt. You watch as he walks around the front of the car and gets in the car. While you watch him turning on the engine and starting to drive, you wanna cry again. You just love him too much.

“I'm sorry about yesterday”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I was really exhausted and angry but that's not an excuse to say those things to you”

Changbin nods, stopping at a red light and looking at you.

“Let's just say we are even now”, he grins, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick peck on the lips.

When you arrive at the airport, he tells you to cover your eyes the whole time until you get into the plane, making sure you have no idea where you're going. When you finally see Jeju island through the plane's window, you look at him excitedly, just to find the man taking a nap. He must have stayed awake all night long, making this trip happen. You watch as his chest rises and falls, slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes.

You really don't know what you would do if he really had called the wedding off, maybe you would have begged but something you're sure is that you wouldn't be able to let him go.

As soon as the plane lands, you wake him up, shaking him a bit. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, brushing his fingers on his eyes to help him wake up.

“Shall we?” He offers his hand to you, seeing you nod and take his hand. Changbin stands up, pulling you with him, walking behind the people getting out of the plane.

You feel like the sun shines brighter in Jeju, the weather is warm and nice, like the perfect day for a trip. After renting a car, you two drive to the hotel, Changbin has everything ready with a suite already reserved for you.

You're a bit tired, after barely sleeping at night you are a bit sleepy but you won't go to sleep, you want to enjoy every minute you can with your man.

“I'm going to take a shower and later we can go to the beach”, you tell him, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist and to give him a peck on the lips.

“Should I let you, though?” He wraps his arms around you, “maybe I should keep you stuck in bed with me, paying for being so mean to me”, he smirks.

“You know damn well that that wouldn't be a punishment”, you step away, pushing him a bit.

“But I deserve compensation”, Changbin points out. “Don't I?” He grins, making you sigh.

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Enough for you to be able to touch his lips with yours, feeling his hot breath mixing with yours, his scent is just intoxicating you feel like you can go insane at any moment.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against him, seizing the opportunity and pushing you against the wall. You sigh when he pulls away from you, landing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your soft skin.

“Stop right there mister”, you come to your senses, pushing him away, making him whine. “Did you bring me here just to have sex?” You squeeze your eyes, judging him.

“No, I just can't resist you”, he pouts, giving in. “You can take your shower, I'll wait”

He gives you a quick kiss and turns around, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing dramatically.

You try to walk normally, but your legs are about to give in. Changbin mustn't know the power he has over you, you'll be done for if he ever finds out.

You two walk by the beach, watching the sunset. He holds your hand with both of his, caressing yours dearly while watching you.

“You know, I love you”, he says out of nowhere, making you turn to look at him. You blush, as if you have never heard that before.

“I love you too”, you answer.

“I don't think you understand the depth of my love for you, though”, he clarifies. “The fact that you thought I was going to call everything off because of a fight shows that you're not aware of the hold you have on me”, the man steps closer, lifting one of his hands to your face and caressing your cheek. “Y/N, I love you when you're kinda, I love you when you're smart and I love you when you're funny, but I also love you when you're angry, I love you when you are upset and I love you when you're sad. I love you every hour, every minute and every second of the day and unless you dump me, I won't let you go so easily.” He smiles, chuckling to your eyes brimming with tears, you're such a cry baby.

“I'm not a lyricist like you, so I'm not as good with expressing myself”, you tell him, wiping your eyes, “but I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I promise I'll prove my love to you everyday”, you smile, giving him a quick kiss. “I don't want to wait three weeks to be your wife”

“Then, let's not wait”, Changbin suggests, kissing the back of your hand. He chuckles seeing the confusion on your face. “Let's get married today, no guests, no fancy party, just you and me and probably two strangers to be our witnesses”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, confused but you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.

“Let's register our marriage right now, we can do the big party later as we planned but right now we can do it just you and me, what do you think?” He asks, hopeful. You give him the biggest smile, throwing your arms around his neck and in a second his arms are wrapped around your waist, spinning with you, making you giggle excitedly.

You and Changbin run to the city, buying him a suit and a white sundress for you. Outside of the register office, you find two people nice enough to agree on witnessing your wedding. Your fiance prepared two rings made of flowers that would probably not last more than a day, but the important thing isn't anything like that. The most important thing is the spark in his eyes when he's looking at you, while waiting to sign the papers. The most important thing is how he presses his lips on your knuckles after putting on the flower ring on your finger. The most important thing is that you're husband and wife now. And that you'll never ever let go of each other.

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astranva · 1 year ago

Text

Instagram Live

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.

There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.

There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.

However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.

Harry’s normal girlfriend.

Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.

It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.

Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.

yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.

“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.

user1: OMG HEY BESTIE

user2: PLEASING

user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE

user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?

“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”

user5: you’re still studying?

user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS

user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been

user8: do you miss harry?

“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”

user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?

user10: I hope you’re joking

user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH

You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”

user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING

user12: HARRY

user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH

harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.

user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY

You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”

user2: I CAN’T BREATHE

harrystyles: Oops.

harrystyles: Have you eaten?

user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS

“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”

user4: share the recipe bestie

harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.

harrystyles: Breakfast?

“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”

user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this

user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together

user16: I want to sit on a highway

harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮

You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”

paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN

user7: PAULI IS HERE

harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.

“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”

harrystyles: PAULI

user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING

paulithepsm: HARRY

paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭

user18: PLS

harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.

harrystyles: Show me your nails.

You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”

user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT

harrystyles: I’ll match with you.

“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.

harrystyles: OKAY ❤

user3: HE’S SO CUTE

user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL

jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.

You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”

harrystyles: Agreed.

harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.

user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS

jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that

“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”

harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤

user20: I just want to be her

harrystyles: I love your outfit.

“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”

user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE

user7: she’s so cute

harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.

You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.

user18: LMFAOOOOO

user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE

jeffazoff: Scandalous

harrystyles: OH FUCK

harrystyles: 😎

You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”

harrystyles: Call me?

user20: I’m not okay

You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff blurb

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hazbinwhoree · 8 months ago

Note

Adam x reader whos rlly rlly drunk and strangely asking for... Err baby making.

And adam is rlly hesistant because reader has a very low sex drive...

So when adam refuses (because hes all about boundaries and consent) reader cries and just kinda vents about shit that has no relate to baby making or even anything about tht night.

And in the morning she wakes up so fresh and happy and has no memory of last night, even being so affectionate to adam<333

Consent King

(Name) had a much lower tolerance than Adam, so it didn’t take long into their drinking before (Name) was absolutely wasted. Adam had a nice buzz going, but quit to take (Name) home.

As soon as they were in the door, (Name) was immediately on him, trying to kiss him. Adam let her kiss him, but when her hands moved down to fumble with his belt, he stopped her. “Woah, babe-” “Let’s have sex,” (Name) slurred.

Adam was taken aback. (Name) was very rarely the one to initiate sex, and he was very tempted to take her up on it. But she was sloshed. He steadied her with large hands holding her shoulders. “As much as I would love that, you’re pretty trashed, babe.”

To Adam’s shock, (Name) burst into tears. “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” she sobbed. “What? Babe, no!” “It’s truuue,” she cried, slurring her words slightly. “You don’t want meee.”

Adam was flabbergasted. “(Name), that’s not true! You’re just really drunk right now.” “So?” “So you can’t consent. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a fucking rapist.”

(Name) continued to cry. Adam was at a loss.

“I wish I was prettier,” (Name) blurted out suddenly. Adam frowned. “You’re hot, babe, what are you talking about?”

“No,” (Name) wailed. “All your groupies are so much hotter than me, I don’t even know why you chose me.” Before Adam could even respond, (Name) continued. “You’re probably cheating on meee.”

Adam shook his head, stunned. “I’m not… why would you think that?”

(Name) shrugged and sniffled. “Because look at *hic* you, then look at me. You could do so much better.”

Adam pulled her into his arms. “I love you. I’m not cheating on you. You’re the hottest bitch in the world to me. My groupies are whores, they don’t mean shit. Stop being a dick to yourself.”

(Name)’s tears slowed as she cuddled into Adam’s chest. “Really?” she asked quietly.

“Really.”

A moment of silence.

“‘M tired,” (Name) slurred. Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised. You’re wasted.” “Whateverrr.” When she turned towards the stairs and stumbled, Adam scooped her up bridal-style.

“I can wa-alk,” (Name) protested.

“Shut up.”

Adam carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He cradled her in one arm while he pulled the covers back, before gently tucking her into the bed. He crawled into bed next to her. Protectively, he draped his wing over her and pulled her into his chest.

(Name) slung an arm over his waist, gripping the shirt material at his back. It didn’t take long at all before (Name) was fast asleep. After watching her for a while, Adam himself fell asleep.

He woke up to (Name) running her fingers through his hair and gently scratching at his scalp. “Good morning,” she cooed. Adam sighed contently. “You’re feeling better.” (Name) was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh you were a mess last night,” Adam teased. “You wanted to have sex and I said no because I was pretty sure you were blacked out, and boom, I was right. Anyway, you lost your shit a little.”

(Name) looked embarassed. “Oh my god, I’m never drinking again.”

Adam laughed. “It’s okay, babe, I still thought you were cute. Even when you were drunk crying.”

(Name) tapped his head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

Adam laughed. He couldn’t help but tease her. “Seriously though, you were fine,” he reassured her.

“But now that you’re awake and sober, wanna have sex?”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #drunk #oneshots #oneshot #hazbin valentino #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty

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logansobsession · 24 days ago

Text

Intoxicating Desire

Pairings: Logan Howlett x fem! mutant reader

Summary: You and Logan have always been close friends, you knew everything about each other and did everything together. The only thing Logan doesn't do, is sit where your power is strongest: the greenhouse. Logan has never seen or heard about your power.

Word count: 4.8 K

Content Warnings: Explicit (18+ mdni), Smut, dirty thoughts, spitting, spicy tension, age gap, praising kink, no use of y/n, reader has ability to control plants and produce flowers from body, along with other flower related things, borderline sub!, teasing, choking.

A/N: This has been sitting in the back of my mind for the past week, I love me a weak Logan * cries out*. Something about his shell breaking and being putty in our hands makes ME turn to putty. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

The greenhouse. The place you go to find solace. Granted, it's the only place you can go to feel your powers fully. With being "graced" with the mutation to control plants, along with sprouting whatever you decide from your body.

The silence. The pure oxygen from the plants. It's otherworldly to you, keeping you chained there for hours, sometimes days. Most of your friends at the mansion know about your mutation. But, it's never spoken per your request. Everyone has such powerful mutations, spectacles of wonder and curiosity, then there's you. The plant girl.

You used to hate the mutation when you were shipped to the mansion at 16. Suppressing it any moment given. Charles spent hours upon hours with you, slowly teaching you to love and use the mutation in beautiful ways. Hank taught you how to control your frustrations and anger, which made it more difficult to control it. Scott... Scott didn't teach anything to you, he just enjoyed watching the show when you did use the mutation.

But Logan? He became your best friend, in the aspects of being your mentor. Taught you how to fight and defend yourself during hand to hand combat. He was there to offer a silent shoulder when you cried about boys, to hanging out with you. In fact, you guys hung out everywhere. Until Charles had the greenhouse built for you shortly after turning 18.

Logan never came to visit you when you would hole yourself up for hours. Nobody did really. The only person that visited you was Hank, but he couldn't handle the humidity as well as you did.

Today was humid, but rain pouring down as if the gods were crying. Which meant you would receive no visitors. The constant assault of rain upon the see through roof provided a lulling background noise, it was almost calming enough to let you rest there.

Logan was walking around the halls, bored out of his mind, he didn't have anything to do so he decided to try and find something or someone to cure his boredom with. He turned the corner and began to approach the greenhouse.

You stood in front of a rose bush, trimming any dead or sick leaves and stems from the bush. The rain was a constant sound, almost drowning out the sound of Logan's knocking before entering the greenhouse.

He stood at the entrance to the greenhouse, peering in at you, watching you for a moment before deciding to interrupt you.

"Hey." He said in a gruff voice.

You jumped in surprise, clutching at your heart before smiling.

"Hey! You finally visiting? Or is it too hot in here for you?"

"Too hot?" He raised a questioning eyebrow and shut the door behind him, the temperature in the room didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Seems fine in here to me."

You nod and laugh "Most of them don't enjoy being in here because it gets fairly humid. I think the rain cooled it down a significant amount today." as you gesture to the roof with the plant trimmers before resuming your task.

"Eh, I've been through worse." He shrugged, slowly drawing closer to you, looking over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

You smile again, continuing your work. "I'm cutting any sick or dead stems from the bush. Keeps the plant itself from getting sick or dying."

You look over your shoulder at him. "Would you like a stool? I usually keep one nearby incase Hank or Scott come to visit."

"Nah, I'm fine." He insisted, as he leaned against the wall, he continued to watch you as you worked, he wasn't all that interested in what you were doing with the plant; he was more interested in you to be honest, he'd just never come to check on you as he usually avoided the greenhouse.

"Alright, suit yourself." You shrug your shoulders before doing a final check on the bush, ensuring you didn't leave any behind. You take a step back and smile at your work.

"Now that's a healthy rose bush if I do say so myself." You walk back to the center of the greenhouse, a midsize willow tree surrounded by stone bricks. You sit down on the stone and pat the empty spot next to you.

He watched you as you sat down and pat next to you, beckoning him to sit with you. Logan pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to you, taking a seat next to you. Even sitting down he still dwarfed you in both size and stature, he leaned against the trunk of the tree but still turned his head to look at you, with an eyebrow raised.

You stare up at the willow, and smile. As you're looking up, you say "Isn't it beautiful? Charles picked the location of the green house for the sole purpose of this willow. It's soothing in a way. Branches drooping, almost sad in a constant melancholy state."

He also looked up at the willow, and he had to agree that it was beautiful. As he watched the branches sway, he also noticed the way that they seemed to droop, as if they were sad.

"It does have a calming presence to it." He agreed as he sat by your side, watching the willow.

You break your gaze from the willow, bringing it to Logan. "So how come you never come to the greenhouse? I'm almost always in here. Granted, no one likes the plant loving mutant and her weird fascination with plants, so I don't blame any of you."

He turned his face to look at you, he thought for a moment in whether he should be fully honest with you or not. He let out a sigh before speaking.

"It's not that I have anything against you, I just ain't a big fan in spending a whole lot of time around plants, or inside for that matter."

You nod your head, listening to him as he spoke. You pat your hands against your lap before you stood in front of him "Do you actually think I'm a mutant... like you?" you say as you place your hands on your hips.

Logan raised an eyebrow curiously as you asked the question. What a strange and out of the blue question to ask, he thought to himself as he looked up at you. He also noticed a shift in your tone. So leaned back against the willow and took a moment to think about his answer, before responding, "If I had to make a guess... I'd think you're a mutant."

You nod your head and smile. "That is correct. But my mutation isn't anything special. So I never use it." You shrug before picking up the trimmers and walk over to a patch of lilacs.

He continued to watch you as you moved over to a different plant. He stood up and followed you to the patch of lilacs. " Why don't you use it? You've been here for years, and I've never seen you do anything different?"

You get down on your knees and slowly start your work on the lilacs "Well it doesn't serve any real purpose, so I don't use it. I'm not a show off like some people in the mansion." You turn your head up at Logan and smile innocently.

He chuckled at your response, "No, you're too sweet to be that kind of person." A thought suddenly crossed his mind, he looked down at the lilacs as you worked on them.

"May I ask you something?"

You smile wider at Logan's compliment and turn your head back to the lilacs "Of course, I'm an open book. You can ask me anything."

He watched you for a moment as you continued to work. He paused for a moment, he was suddenly feeling a bit nervous but he didn't show outward signs of it. "So, what exactly is your mutation then?"

You let out a small sigh and slowly stand up. You walk back to the willow, setting the trimmers down. " I'm a little rusty, it's not something I do often, so bear with me." You say, brushing your hands off on your apron. "Come here" You hold out your hand for Logan to come near.

He watched you as you finished up and put the trimmers down. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you held out your hand and gestured for him to come closer. He hesitantly stepped closer towards you.

"Come closer...I need you closer for this." You wave him to come closer. You shake your arms and shoulders, growing nervous as to if you can even do it anymore. You smile and wink at Logan, " This is my favorite party trick. But I save it for special people."

He watched you as you stood in front of him with a nervous smile. He raised his eyebrow as you said it was a "party trick". Still, he was more than intrigued to know what exactly what your trick was. He stepped even closer to you, standing in front of you.

You place your hands softly on Logan's chest, over his heart. I looked up at him, " I need you to think about something or someone you care about or love. Whatever it may be. Okay?" You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

He took a sharp breath as you placed your hands on his chest. He felt his heart rate pick up as you did so. He looked down at you, noticing you had gotten closer to him. He nodded, he had someone in his mind.

"Alright. I got what I need in mind."

Logan watched in surprise as the green house began to change around the both of you, as vines and branches creeped up the glass walls, making it much darker inside than it was before. He looked up at the roof and saw it covered in vines and branches. He watched as vines slowly crept down, blooming into long tufts of wisteria. He looked back down at you, he was shocked to see you exerting this kind of power. He'd never expected it from someone of your nature. Still, he kept his mouth shut, eager to see what you'd do next.

You let out a ragged breath, searching for any more power you had. Slowly, hues of pinks and purples erupted from your hair. Tiny flowers blossomed, framing your face perfectly. You open your eyes, breathing hard and smiling. Your hands still resting on Logan's chest as you say "Like my party trick?" You look around at the vines and flowers covering the inside of the greenhouse.

He was speechless, he looked around in awe at the greenhouse. Covered in vines, with wisteria everywhere. His eyes fell back down to you as you spoke. He looked over your face, noticing all the tiny flowers framing your pretty face. He blinked a few times in shock, until he finally came back to his sense and spoke, his voice slightly shaky from the shock. "That's a pretty amazing party trick you have there."

You smile and gently remove your hands from Logan's chest. He remained in a daze, watching you pat his chest before removing your hands. You looked up at the ceiling, proud of the show you had put on for Logan, after not using your abilities in at least two years.

You reached up, grabbing a small tuft of wisteria, opening Logan's hand and placing the flower in his hand gently. He felt his heart skip a beat as you grabbed his hand, placing the flower there. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as you looked at him.

Your face grows warm before speaking up, " I do have one little more part of my mutation that I didn't tell you about."

Logan raise an eyebrow slightly at your words, listening intently as you spoke. You'd piqued his curiosity. A part of your mutation that you hadn't told him about? He found that interesting and honestly a bit annoying that you hadn't told him already.

"There's a part to your mutation that you haven't told me about? And what is that part, sweetheart?"

You smile, taking a step back so you could clearly see his face. "You know some flowers release a scent? An almost intoxicating scent that's alluring to the senses?"

He glanced after you as you stepped away from him, watching as you brought your hands to your sides. He nodded his head, already knowing where you're going with this. He was already realizing that you'd been holding something back from him. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about, why?"

You stay silent point to yourself, hoping he makes the connection. It took him a moment, but he soon caught on to what you were hinting at. And as soon as he had, he swore his knees almost buckled at the realization.

"You-your flowers do release a scent that's luring to the senses?"

You nod, "Some of them yes. As an extra boost. But Charles taught me to suppress my emotions and this because it acts as pheromone." You state. You take a few moments in silence. "Would you like to see what I mean?"

He didn't even have to think before nodding his head, he wanted to see un-suppress this little ability of yours, seeing the effects it'd have just out of pure curiosity. " Yeah, I'd like to see what you mean. Go on sweetheart go ahead and show me."

You sit down on the stone by the willow tree and close your eyes. You mentally unravel everything Charles had taught you. Slowly. But surely, a rainbow of colors blossomed within your hair and an intoxicating scent mixed with your pheromones.

Logan was absolutely mesmerized as he watched you sit down and close your eyes, watching in wonder as the normally subtle blossoms in your hair began to explode to an almost dazzling spectrum of colors. And as the intoxicating scent mixed your pheromones, he strange sort of need grow in his chest.

"Sweetheart... What are you doing to me..."

The scent grew stronger, becoming easily detected by the normal senses. It filled the green house, almost creating an invisible haze. The scent was slowly driving Logan crazy. His breathing was getting heavier in response to it, the smell being intoxicating like you had said. He felt something deep within him respond and almost beg for him to get physically closer to you.

"Fuck... darling...the smell... It's messing with me..."

You opened your eyes slowly while holding your breath and looked at Logan. You tilted your head in a way of saying "I told you so" before closing your eyes again and cutting off the scent from emanating any more. You stood up and walked back to Logan and smiled.

The moment you'd cut off the scent, he felt like he'd suddenly been doused in a bucket of cold water. He was suddenly able to actually get his bearings again, able to realize how strongly he'd been affected by you un-suppressing that part of your mutation.

"Jesus Christ... that scent was... something else.. I don't think I've ever felt that type of need for someone, sweetheart..."

You dramatically bow, and stand back up straight. " And that is why I spent four years training alone with Charles. All in the mind."

Logan chuckled softly, feeling amused at how dramatically you had bowed just to emphasize the effectiveness of the power you had just revealed. " Damn... I can't really blame Charles for spending that much time with you to make sure you'd be able to control it. If you could just let that loose, anytime, you'd have every single person in the mansion swooning over you in no time."

You look down at your hands momentarily, " That isn't it at the strongest, I know your heightened senses are probably raw from that little bit. I could show you, but if you need fresh air, I promise I won't be mad at you Logan."

As the scent of the flowers still lingered throughout the air, mixing with the subtle but still present smell of your pheromones. It was driving him insane, like a constant itch in the back of his mind, to just grab you and keep you close to him. "Darling I'm not going anywhere."

He hadn't completely regained control yet and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave you alone when he was still being affected by you. You look at him and nod, understanding. " I'll go somewhere where you can't hurt me and I can stop anytime that you want me to."

His breath hitched slightly at your question. His head was still clouded from the scent that had filled the green house and he couldn't think clearly enough to decide whether that would be a good idea or not. Something deep within him was still demanding and almost begging for him to get closer to you, to hold you in his arms. But he somehow managed to answer coherently

"You sure you want to do that sweetheart?"

"I want to show you what it's like if I went out on a field mission with you guys." You start speaking as you look at Logan. "I can't direct it yet at a single person, so if I use it against an enemy, it'll also affect the entire team."

Logan nodded as you spoke, listening intently. The strong scent still filled the air, his mind still in a haze. He was definitely tempted to get closer to you, but he managed to rein in his urges, barely..

"So that's why you can't actually go missions... it'll affect the team as well, not just the enemies.."

You nod your head "Yes. It's really the only useful and semi powerful thing in relation to my mutation..." You trail off, bringing your hand back to Logan's chest. "Are you sure you want to go through it again?"

He was tempted to just wrap his arms around you the second you put your hand on his chest, feeling it like a jolt to his system that just further made it hard to think. But he managed to answer you again,

"Yeah. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let's see what happens."

"Stay right there and don't move" you say with a serious tone coating your voice. You walk over to the willow tree and begin climbing in.

You reach the part of the tree that has a groove, perfect for sitting, a place you commonly rested at. You sat yourself in a way that Logan could still see you, but still in a way that would prevent you from falling in case you fainted.

"And you're positive that you want to do this?"

Logan watched as you went and climbed the tree. He was definitely having to exert every last ounce of willpower and strength he had to follow your instructions and just stay where he was and not follow you up that damn tree. "Sweetheart, I'm positive. Go ahead and show me what you got."

You close your eyes and open your arms from your body. Flowers blossoming from your head, painting your arms in hues of pinks and purples. You slowly begin to smell the familiar scent you spent hours holding deep down, radiate from your skin. As your eyes are closed and focusing on your body, you softly say "This isn't full power... Are you okay?"

The moment he felt the scent return to the air and begin to permeate throughout the greenhouse, all control Logan had was gone; the scent completely taking over his mind within moments. All he could think about was getting up to you, how perfect you would fit in his arms, and how much he just wanted to get close and touch you. But he tried to answer you in a coherent way. "Yeah... I'm fine... keeping going.."

You take a deep breath and let your mind and body begin to take over. You mentally go to a different place as the scent grows unbearably strong. Your body begins to sweat, beads of sickly sweet sweat rolling from your face down onto your cleavage. The sweat creates an even more pungent aroma that mingles with the scent within the greenhouse.

Logan's breathing was becoming shakier with every second that passed, feeling the scent grow even stronger and that mixed with the beads of sweat slowly making their way down your body was driving him absolutely insane. He was still having to exercise every ounce of self control to not follow you up the damn tree, desperately fighting against the overwhelming urge to just grab you and make you his.

"Oh...God... sweetheart you're making this so damn goddamn hard..."

It's been so long since you've let go like this, the release of pent up energy felt good, too good. You lean back hard, back connecting with the thick tree branch as the scent rolls off of you in thick, aggressive waves, as your self control whittles down to nothing.

He was at the very edge of his willpower by this point, the scent was so damn strong now and the sight of you lean back, sweat rolling down your body was taking every ounce of control he had away.

"Fuck...sweetheart you're going to send me over the edge... I swear to God I'm gonna completely lose it if you go anymore..."

Logan's voice sounding further away as you drift away from the control you had spent years precising. You knew deep down that you would have to go back to working with Charles, but in the very moment, it felt soothing to finally lose control.

Logan couldn't think clearly at all by this point, the scent that filled the air and the sight of your body, sweat beginning to soak your camisole, were driving him past the brink of sanity.

"God... Sweetheart... I can't hold back anymore.. I'm gonna do something...I'm warning you now"

You relish in the feeling of release, realizing that it needs to be done more than not doing it at all. Flowers and thin vines erupting from your hands, crawling and wrapping slowly around the tree; creating more open pockets to release the intoxicating aroma.

That was it.

You relishing in the release and the sight of the vines and flowers from your hands, wrapping around the tree was the last straw for Logan. He couldn't hold back anymore and as such, he gave in to the urge, not caring anymore.

"God DAMN it... I warned you." He let out a growl as he quickly ran towards the tree.

You laid there in uncontrolled bliss, too far off of the edge on control to reel it back in. Logan quickly jumped, using every ounce of his strength to scale the tree and get up to where you were, looking absolutely feral as he approached you, where you were sitting in the small groove of the tree.

"Oh sweetheart... look at you... you look like an absolute mess.. like a damn vision sitting up here... a vision that's mine to touch."

You barely feel Logan's body heat as your senses are far more defined than before. But all control of this has been lost and you lay there deep within your mind.

He quickly crowded towards you, leaning over you slightly as you sat there in a sort of half dazed state in the tree. He was feeling very, very possessive of you in this moment, seeing you with sweat coating your body; flowers and vines from your hands wrapping around the tree, and that scent of yours filling the air.

"God you're so damn perfect like this, so damn gorgeous.. so damn mine to touch..."

The lull of release temporarily becomes bearable and you slowly come back to your mind, scent still radiating from your body. You open your eyes and see Logan leaning over you, eyes dark and filled with desire.

He was looming over you, body almost fully caging you to the trunk of the tree. Eyes dark, nothing but lust and wild with possessiveness as he looked down on you, seeing you slowly start to come back to your senses. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, practically drenched in sweat and flowers, sitting there in a half-dazed state of release at his touch. "There you are... look at you doll... a complete mess..."

You hazily smiled, closing your eyes once again, more vines erupting from your hands, slowly slinking around Logan, tying him in place all while pulling him closer. You whisper to him gently "I told you it's a lot."

Logan tried to bite back a moan as he was suddenly enveloped by the vines from your hands, feeling them wrap around his arms and legs, pulling him even closer until he was fully pressed against you, completely at your mercy.

"Doll... you're killing me here.. you feel so damn good..."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, whispering "You doing okay?"

He nodded quickly at your question, feeling like his body had never been more alive and on fire than right then. Being all tied up by the vines from your hands, being held so close against you, the aroma of flowers and the sweat from your body being absolutely overpowering...

"Yeah... I'm doing more than okay sweetheart.."

A vine slowly snaked up Logan's back and around his neck, wrapping itself firmly around his neck as more flowers blossomed, releasing the aroma right underneath his nose.

He practically saw stars as the vine began to wrap around his neck, flowers releasing more of the damn intoxicating scent and completely scrambling his mind even more. He let out an almost guttural sounding moan at the intense feeling, the vines and scent making it increasingly difficult to think.

"God... sweetheart.. that feels so goooood...."

You close your eyes once more, controlling the vines wrapping Logan, pulling him face to face with me. The vine grips at Logan's neck again, you open your eyes again and smile. " Told you it's powerful.." You whisper against his lips.

Logan looked completely feral with how he practically on the verge of losing it as you pulled his face even closer, the vine around his neck tugging again, making the sensation even more intense. He let out a guttural moan again at how good it felt being wrapped up and completely within your power, being so close to your face with your lips just barely touching his.

" God sweetheart... you're insane."

You open your mouth just barely, dragging your tongue against Logan's bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth, biting and tugging at it before releasing it. "Tell me what you want to do to me Logan...please."

Logan practically whimpered at that, the feeling of your tongue against his bottom lip and you biting and tugging was more intense than he really expected it to be, driving him insane. He let out another guttural moan as you released his lip, feeling completely under your control as he managed to answer

"I want.. want to touch you.. kiss you.. feel your bare skin against mine.. just have you completely."

A low hum radiates from your throat as you bite Logan's bottom lip again, harder and drawing blood from his lip. "Tell me what you want to do to my body Logan."

He let out another moan as you bite his lip again, drawing blood. It hurt, but he couldn't focus on the pain as the feeling being tangled and held by the vines and being held so damn close you was overwhelming.

"God..I'm..I'm gonna kiss your body all over.. gonna feel your skin.. gonna devour every damn inch of you and make you mine..."

You hum again, "Tell me you're mine... tell me you'll be mine to use and play with whenever my little heart desires Logan.."

He let out a moan at the hum you gave him, feeling more and more like he was yours to use and play with. His primal side was fully taking over at this point as he answered.

" God yes... I'm yours sweetheart, I'm all yours.. I'll be yours to use and play with whenever your damn little heart pleases..."

You close your eyes, tightening the vine around Logan's neck even more "Good boy..." You whisper, praising him.

Logan let out another moan as the vine around his neck was tightened even more, his breathing becoming even more labored as it took him everything he had to answer you. His mind completely fogged over by how this felt, being so completely captured by you, completely at your mercy.

"God... yes... I'm your good boy.. please sweetheart... don't stop... keep going.. I'm all yours..."

#logan howlet smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x f!reader #wolverine x you #god #fuck #sub!character #logan howlett x mutant reader

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torasplanet · 10 months ago

Text

❝𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝘼 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you think armin's the sweetest boy on campus until you learn he's just like his stupid frat boy friends but it still doesn't drive you away from him. if anything it draws you closer.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, toxic!armin, college au, armin is lowkey a gaslighter, drinking, smoking, weed, degradation, praise, slut-shaming, false rumors, scumbag!eren, scumbag!connie mention of historia x ymir, couch sex, oral(m receiving), p in v, recording, mean!armin, orgasm denial, unprotected, relations between jean and reader hinted, arguing, gaslighting ig??, crying, dacryphilia, kinda manipulation, petnames(pretty, baby, slut), threat of leaking nudes, mirror sex??, kinda messy so don't mind if ur confused, skin color not mentioned

Armin Arlert was probably the sweetest boy on the entire college campus.

It was weird that he hung out with all the jerk frat boys like Connie, Eren, and Reiner despite his good reputation but anytime anyone asked, he’d tell them that they were childhood friends and they understood. You can’t really just ditch someone you’ve known since childhood over some stupid choice of the type of person they are in college so no matter who Armin associated himself with, everyone always saw him as the sweet little blonde who was a bookworm and cared about his grades more than anything.

Well, everyone that didn’t really know him thought that. All the people who were close to Armin knew that he wasn’t any of that, not anymore at least. Yes, Armin was kinder than any of them but he wasn’t a sweetheart. Just as Eren and Connie would meet up to smoke and talk about all the girls they fucked, Armin would be right next to them laughing evilly and rolling blunts, not that he let anyone know it. It was much easier for Armin to let people believe that false perception of him being innocent and an angel than being just like Eren, made it easier to get girls too.

You were one of the few people who knew this and at first, it freaked you out but you learned to adjust to it and you were right on his lap whenever he was with his frat boy friends lighting the blunt between his lips like the good girl you wanted to be for him, the good boy that just wasn’t as good as everyone thought he was.

But there’s always a part in you that wish you knew all of this before you truly got to know Armin or at least got to know it in a different way…not after being labeled campus slut by him and his stupid fucking frat friends.

It started off so simple, you just saw Armin at a party, one of Connie’s parties, and thought he looked cuter than ever and plus he had helped you on one of your tests before so you did owe him a bunch.

“Oh shit! Fuck!” Armin shouted leaning back on his palms and throwing his head back making his blonde strands fly everywhere, the blonde strands were identical to the bush on his pelvis that your nose was planted in except for the curliness of his pubes. Your hands held onto his thighs to support yourself as you continued to stare up at him through your lashes with his cock stuffed in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bobbed your head making you gag.

His blue eyes darted down to meet yours as redness flushed the color of his face. It didn’t matter how badly Armin acted behind the scenes or what he said, there would always be moments where he was just so submissive especially when he was getting the best head he’d ever gotten in a while “Don’t look at me like that.” He whimpered out embarrassedly closing his eyes not wanting to look at you as it made him more flustered than he was.

Armin would never say this, well not to your face but from the moment you walked up to him at that party, he thought you were a slut. The way you looked at him, how you talked, that filthy fucking smile on your face, it just told him that you wanted him to fuck you or at least wanted dick from him in any way you could get it.

Wasn’t like he was really surprised though, he’s heard the shit that you’ve done. Fucking Jean, fucking Connie and this one was probably false but the fact that the rumor even existed in the first place, gave Armin reasons to believe you were a grade-A slut. He knew how girls talked and how they would especially go out of their way to say bad shit about girls they didn’t like but Connie would say how it was true a lot so he kind of believed it. Armin thought you were too pretty to be such a slut. Well, a campus slut anyway.

“Fuck pretty…gonna make me cum…” Armin’s moans were so gorgeous, just like you thought they would be. As Armin got closer to the edge, he pulled out of your mouth and sprayed his cum all over your face making sure you closed your eyes before he did it so you wouldn’t get any in your eye. He admired the look of your lovely face covered in the leftovers of his orgasm and smiled sweetly down at you.

The cum that landed on the tip of your tongue tasted so sweet, it was only right that a boy as sweet as him has a sweet taste too. You’ve thought about what it’d taste like for almost forever but maybe you should’ve thought way more about it because just because someone’s cum tastes nice doesn’t mean they are.

Unfortunately, you weren’t going to get this until a few days later when girls started looking at you like you were walking around naked and so were the guys but you really wouldn’t get what was going on until Hitch told you.

Connie and Reiner were going around telling everyone how you blew Armin at the party and had to go to the bathroom to wipe the remains of it off your face and you didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time those guys have told people you fucked someone whether you did or didn’t but it only really did start to bother you when Armin didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything to you regarding the situation, he didn’t tell people to stop talking about it in the class you two shared, and he merely chuckled when he heard a girl call you the frat slut and mention how you probably have made your way around the entire frat house.

That pissed you off.

You knew it was true that you had sucked off Armin and you can��t really say much when it’s the truth being whispered into everyone’s ears behind your back and right in front of your face but when everyone was constantly insulting you, you at least expected Armin the sweetheart, Armin the kindest boy ever to say something to them or at least his friends for spreading it around. Why the fuck did he even tell them in the first place because no one saw you two leave that room and no one saw you go in the room with him, only walking up the stairs.

Fuck what everyone said about Armin being nice, about Armin being kind, about Armin being the sweetest boy ever because he was not. Nice boys don’t kiss and tell, nice boys don’t let people insult you when he wanted his dick sucked just as much as you wanted to suck it and Nice boys certainly don’t let their friends tell the whole fucking world and their mama that you sucked their dick once at a party.

Armin was not a nice boy and he wasn’t going to just get away with that shit without you saying a damn word and if he thought he would, he was fucking stupid. I mean he saw what you did to Connie after you heard he was agreeing with the false rumor, he even winced when you slapped the shit out of his friend and commented on how red Connie’s cheek was. If he thought you weren’t going to do that to him because he was ‘nice’, he wasn’t as smart as everyone perceived him to be.

But even with these feelings, you had a hard time going up to him during classes or whenever you saw him really and confronting him. Armin was always around people, people who would label you as the problem if you came up to the blonde and started to yell at him about something no one saw as his fault and that just made your hatred for him burn like a house fire inside of you.

You didn’t want to see his stupid face. You didn’t want to hear his name. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him at all! Nor did you want to be around the loudmouths that started the gossiping of your sex life and made it public.

So a few weeks after all of this, you decided to skip out on one of Connie’s parties and stay inside. You didn’t get how he could host parties practically every week, he was really trying to live those 2000’s romance movies that display college kids as people who party every night but then again, those movies weren’t exactly false because you ended up going anyway.

Not by choice, of course, your dorm roommate and friend, Historia had convinced you to come because she wanted someone to go with her to this party. You didn’t even know why she wanted to go so badly, the best idea you had was that it was because of this new girl, Ymir, she was talking to but that still did not give her any reason to shove you in the back of her car and throw a dress and pair of heels along with you.

“Stop complaining! It won’t be that bad, I’m sure you won’t even see him.” Historia reassured looking back at you through the rearview mirror as you applied mascara to your eyelashes using the camera of your phone to help you. How dumb did this Ymir girl make Historia? Of course, you’d end up seeing Armin. It was Connie’s party after all and he was bound to make himself known to everyone and probably including his ‘best buddies’ in it too.

A scoff left your lips as you rapidly blinked your lashes “Even if I don’t see him, I’ll see the others and they’ll probably be worse and actually talk.” If you ran into Eren, Connie, or Reiner, they’d definitely comment on what they had told everyone and add a snarky insult about if they could be next. The only one that possibly wouldn’t say anything like that was Jean and that was why he was the only one out of them except for Armin that you actually fucked.

“Yeah, all they do is talk. You know that (Y/n)...” The blonde woman said in an attempt to reassure you and to some degree, it did work. She was right.

All they did was talk, that was their whole thing but at the same time, their talking was the same reason why you were in this predicament in the first place. Fuck it, if they did start talking, you could always resort to throwing a drink in their face and laughing in Eren’s face as he yelled about his precious hair getting all wet.

Historia looked at you again noticing your lack of reply and you were already looking at her. As if she could read your mind, she smiled and looked away speaking simple words “Just don’t cause a scene, please? I really wanna have a good time tonight.” A wide grin stretched across your face making your lip gloss shine in the moonlight that peeked through the windows of the car and onto your body.

“With Ymir?” The blonde’s face went red at the mention of the brunette and her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly “Shut it! I bet if Jean’s here you’ll have a good time with him.” You would’ve laughed if you didn’t get embarrassed at her mention of Jean. He was a good guy, don’t get me wrong but you didn’t want that.

You didn’t know why you didn’t like that but it’s not something you wanted. There was a reason majority of the guys you’ve loved or had sex with were usually frat boys or just general dickheads, whether you knew it or not. You had no idea how you managed to snag someone like Jean, such a sweet guy. You almost thought that with Armin too until you figured out what was really going on.

But even with him being a sweet guy, you still wouldn’t have a good time with him, probably wouldn’t have a time at all. Not after he’s listened to his friends say how they’ve fucked you, the only one that was missing was Reiner. Eren couldn’t say he fucked you or you gave him head or anything because he only fingered you which didn’t really count plus you were pretty sure he and Mikasa had a thing going on so him bragging and telling everyone about some small shit like that was not do him any favors.

Thinking about what Jean must be hearing from his friends made you realize how much of a slut you were. But it wasn’t your fault that all the hot guys in college happened to be friends and frat guys…it wasn’t your fault either that they were all jerks! So there should be no criticism against her still thinking Armin was cute even after figuring out that the kind personality was just a facade.

I mean, it’s not like he took off a mask and revealed an entire different face right?

But just because you still thought he was good-looking didn’t mean you weren’t still upset about his blabbermouth.

So when you stepped into the house and the first thing you saw was Armin, Eren, and Connie all talking near the staircase while passing around a blunt, you audibly groaned loudly probably loud enough for them to hear. You wanted to burn the whole house down as soon as your eyes landed on their forms watching as they laughed about something that was probably stupid.

But…Historia asked you to not make a scene and you were going to respect what she wanted because just because you were all sad and upset. And a little pent-up if we were being completely honest. Though…you couldn’t sit at this party and not say anything to that blonde fuck.

Once Historia left, you made your way over to the three boys who had caught on to your sudden presence at the party just a bit after you started to go toward them “Woah, looks like she can’t get enough of you, man.” Connie said nudging Armin with his elbow as he took a drag from the blunt, Eren let out a small chuckle at this.

You stood in front of the three men just glaring daggers at Armin “What’s up?” Armin asked as if he hadn’t done anything wrong at all and it pissed you off more “What’s up is that we need to talk.” You got nothing in return but laughs coming from Connie and Eren who were making eye contact obviously thinking about something dirty.

“Like you talked all on his dick?” Connie asked between his laughs while passing the blunt to Armin who just stood there with a smile on his face looking as though he was resisting the urge to burst out laughing right in your face. You took notice of the cup in his hand and quickly made the decision to flip it spilling the alcohol all over his white tee.

“What the fuck (y/n)!?” Connie shouted a frown appearing on his face real quick as he looked down at the large stain on his shirt “You know what the fuck springer.” You said quickly as you grabbed Armin’s wrist and dragged him away from his friends hearing one of them call you a bitch on your way.

You didn’t look back at Armin to see what his face looked like as you dragged him to the nearest room to talk which happened to be a bathroom, he didn’t say anything as you two walked and he was probably still smoking. You wished you knew what Armin thought of you, if he had any empathetic thoughts toward you, or if he didn’t care at all.

It’s hard to know the answer to something like that when the person in question is a fucking liar. Though he never said to anyone that he was nice, that he was the kindest person in the world, he never stopped anyone from thinking that. He sure as hell didn’t stop you from thinking that when your face was coated in his cum.

“If you’re trying to distance yourself from that whole campus slut thing, taking me into a bathroom isn’t the best idea,” Armin said leaning against the wall and closing the bathroom door with his foot. At least he wasn’t going to pretend like he was that innocent little blonde when you two were talking alone, he respected you that much not to lie to your face when you both know what happened.

“You were the one that made everyone believe I’m a campus slut!” You said glaring at him your hands balled into fists. You didn’t know if you were upset about the fact that he was looking at you without a care in the world in those bright blue swirls that were his eyes while putting the blunt to his lips and letting the smoke escape through his nostrils or what he said the moment you two made it into this bathroom.

Armin looked down at the blunt as he removed it from in between his soft pink lips “No? I didn’t tell people that.” Well, you might as well throw that whole ‘respect’ thing out the window because he was acting like he didn’t know what he did. His lingering stare on your body made a million thoughts run through your head as you tried to find a way to respond that wouldn’t be socking him in his shit right now.

“But you told Connie and Eren that when you didn’t have to.” Armin simply shrugged as he met your eyes once more leaning his hip against the sink counter and planting his hand on the surface to support himself “I didn’t know they were going to say anything.” He said.

This pissed you off way more than you thought it would. Mainly because of his tone. He didn’t even sound like he was lying at all, he sounded as though he was telling the truth and you knew he wasn’t. It was fucking scary. “Yes, you did! They’re your friends and you know all the shit they’ve said about me.” You shouted at him while Armin just stared down at you. Anyone who was around the bathroom could definitely hear you yelling at him.

“Why are you mad at me? Connie’s the one that said all that shit, not me.” Yeah, he may have been right. He didn’t say anything but he still didn’t say shit when Connie started blabbering his mouth about you and Armin and he’s the reason why Connie had something to say in the first place. He knew how Connie and Eren were with anything that someone told them and he still said something when he didn’t have to.

Armin was pissing you off to a crazy extent but you didn’t say anything, you just stared at him. It was slutty and sick of you to be thinking about how hot he looked right now with the smoke blowing from between his lips while he was fucking with your head trying to make it seem like you had no right to be mad at him. “And it’s not exactly like they’re wrong about you being the slut…” You didn’t say anything and just continued to stare at him waiting for him to keep talking.

“You fucked Jean, fucked Connie and me…who knows who’s next? Reiner?” Armin said throwing one finger up with every name that left his mouth with a teasing smile reappearing on his face before placing the blunt to his lips and exhaling the smoke in your face making sure you knew that he didn’t give a fuck.

“I never fucked that short bitch Connie!” Armin let out a laugh leaning his head back against the wall, he clearly didn’t give a fuck but he didn’t have to laugh in your face making it clear that he also didn’t take you seriously at all “Still fucked Jean and gave me head. Not like anyone will believe that you didn’t fuck Connie with a reputation like that.” Armin said rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at you as if he was sorry that you had to deal with that but you knew he wasn’t. He was just trying to fucking play with your head.

It was working.

Looking at him through your mascara-coated lashes, you wondered if he believed that shit like everyone else did. If Connie told him the truth about nothing happening. Did he at least have the common decency to know his friend was lying?

You wished that Armin was that sweet boy you thought he was but then again you can’t say that because you were still thinking about how cute he was and what he thought of you even when knowing how he truthfully was. Pathetic. “Do you believe that?” You asked your voice lower than it was before looking away from Armin not wanting to see whatever mocking look he was giving you, it’d make you feel even more pathetic.

His white and blue Jordans came into your view blocking your gaze on the tile bathroom floor “Why would I tell you that? It’ll ruin the game.” Armin said mockingly soft. Game? Did he think all of this shit was a game? Something to entertain him? Why didn’t you realize this from the start of this conversation?

Because you were blinded by him that’s why and that’s probably what made it fun for him. Armin knew he was fucking with your head and he was probably smiling at you because of it.

“This isn’t a game. If it is, it’s not fucking fun.” You said looking back up at him with your brows furrowing in anger. Your hands plant themselves on his chest and push him back away from you, it didn’t seem to phase him at all and in fact he just smiled doubling down to walk even closer to you.

“We can make it fun,” Armin said with a smirk on his face and you wanted to say ‘fuck no’, you wanted to leave, you wanted to hit him but you didn’t because you didn’t really want to. You wanted to know how he was going to make it fun even though you already had an idea of what he was talking about and it was an idea that you weren’t opposed to.

It was really fucking pathetic but you can’t help how you feel nor could you stop the pulsing feeling in your cunt squeezing around literally nothing just wishing that the nothing was being replaced with him “We’re already in the bathroom together, I can make everything they’re about to say when you leave come true.” Armin continued and it took everything to not kiss him with how close his face was to yours.

You wanted to at least have some respect for yourself. You just got to this party, the first thing you did was grab Armin and take him to the bathroom which seemed wrong enough as it is not only from other people’s perspective but from yours too and if you started fucking him while in here when you were supposed to yell at him and tell him off, that’d just make everyone really believe you were a cock hungry slut including yourself.

Armin then backed his face away which confused you and you showed it on your face “But if you don’t want to…I won’t. You can go slut yourself out to someone you want.” That’s what threw you off.

You thought he was being sweet with wanting consent until the second part of his sentence left his throat. Even when saying something like that which would make a girl fall to her knees because of how kind he was about needing to know if you wanted it, he still found a way to slut-shame you like everyone else fucking did.

It was true, all guys were fucking dickheads.

“I thought you were actually a good guy…” You muttered feeling tears beginning to burn in your eyes and a smile just appeared on his face again “If you wanted a good boy, baby you should’ve fucked bertholdt. You’d probably still do it.” Armin said coldly with a chuckle coming from under his breath.

Your hands clenched into tight fists once again but this time you actually put them to use. Your hand went flying toward Armin’s nose making him step back going to hold his nose with a groan and without another word, you left the bathroom rubbing your knuckles leaving Armin in there by himself.

You didn’t know what you were thinking. You didn’t fucking need Armin to have a good time, you didn’t need him for dick either because if you really wanted it that damn bad, you’d find someone. Hell you might even go to Floch just to fucking avoid him, he’d probably be the only guy to want to fuck you without wanting to tell the whole world after Connie’s little lies of you being ran through by the entire Frat house he was in.

When the party was eventually over, you found yourself wandering down the hallway of the dormitories with your heels in your hand and alone. Historia had dropped you off with Ymir in the car adn they went their own way probably either to Ymir’s house or just fucking in the car which you respected so you went about your own way to go to the dorm.

Afterall, you were drunk but you weren’t that drunk. You could still stand, walk and think straight so you were going to be fine but it took a lot of convincing from you and Ymir that you were going to be fine and that they could just leave. You just hoped historia was enjoying herself with Ymir because you clearly weren’t with your horrible mood.

Your bare feet stepped along the carpeted floor of the dorm hallway with your heels clacking against each other in your hand. A frown brought down your face as you let out a sigh. You wanted someone right now.

You didn’t know who you wanted but you needed someone. You spent the entire party babysitting a red solo cup that got refilled probably every three minutes, you ignored the whispers and the stares from people and the snickers you got whenever the guys from the frat house passed by you and don’t even get me started on how you were whenever you caught a glimpse of the blonde man.

It was probably the saddest party you’d ever been to and it left you with a sad feeling resting inside of you, it was your fault honestly. If you weren’t so damn bad at picking out guys and always going for the scumbags and dicks, you wouldn’t be so sad almost crying while finding your way down to your dorm.

“No eren, I didn’t fucking take your weed.” You froze when you heard Armin’s voice. It was very muffled clearly coming from behind a door. Damn, you had forgotten that Armin also lived in the dorms and happened to be on the same floor as you were, it was how you managed to ask him for help for that class.

Your head turned to your right seeing that brown door that looked identical to every other door that was in this hallway except for that metal plate with the numbers ‘312’ that haunted you and made your skin run cold, goosebumps popping up on your exposed arms. Had it always been this cold in the hallway? You didn’t know if it was or the sudden known presence of Armin that was making you feel like it was freezing.

You didn’t continue walking or anything and just stood there staring at the door as if you were waiting for him to say more but he didn’t. He was probably just listening to Eren whine about that damn chain.

Without thinking, you allowed your feet to carry you closer to the door with your stare not faltering one bit. You needed someone so bad, you were just so upset hat you wanted to be in someone’s embrace no matter if it was sex or just cuddling and Armin shouldn’t have been the person you decided on. He was the one that made you feel like this in the first place along with his stupid friends.

But you still wanted him. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his blonde hair making an unruly messy of it, you wanted him to fill you up and making you feel so full, you wanted to smash your lips onto his. You wanted Armin so bad you thought it was going to kill you. Fuck being pathetic, fuck all that shit of feeling bad for wanting a mean guy, you’ll never learn to have fun if you spend all your time just feeling sorry for yourself and what kind of guys you like.

You were already known as a slut and starting to beleive it yourself, there’s nothing you could dp to make people stop thinking that so why not just fucking imbrace it?

You brought those same bruised knuckles that smashed into Armin’s nose up to the door and knocked on the wood gently a few times before dropping your arm back down to your side turning your head down to look at your feet “Eren are you at my fucking door? I told you I don’t got that shit.” His voice was louder than it was the first time and seemed less muffled.

You waited paitently and a little anxious that he’d just slam the door back in your face upset that you punched him in his shit. The sound of the door unlocking made you squeeze your eyes shut not wanting to even look at his shoes but after a few seconds of silence, you decided to look at him.

You slowly lifted your head making eye contact with Armin who was looking down at you, it seemed as though just you staring up at him was the thing that made him happy because a evil lustful grin formed on his lips as he watched you shfit your weight onto your other foot clearly nervous.

“I’ll call you back Eren.”

Moans bounced off the walls of Armin’s dorm as your nails dug into the soft plushness of the couch trying to hold back your moans though you weren’t really doing that good of a job at it “Why you hiding your moans from me baby? I wanna know how good I make my slut feel.” Armin said teasingly as his hands harshly gripped your hips while watching as he slid in and out of you with ease nearly drooling at the sight of how good you sucked his cock in.

Though Armin doubted that he should be surprised, you were so good at taking it down your throat, it’s only normal that you’re good at taking it in your pussy too “S-Sorry, mhm…” You whimpered as you snuck your hand down to draw circles on your clit only making more moans come from your mouth “It’s okay just take it like a good girl. I know you can.” His words made you basically melt onto the spot.

You wanted to be Armin’s good girl so badly, only his. “Uh huh…m’ your good girl.” Your words were just gibberish at this point, he was fucking you so good that you could barely comprehend anything that was going on only how he was ramming inside of you “That’s right, mine. All mine…” You heard Armin whisper possibly one of his hands slapping your thigh making a yelp come out of your mouth.

Your walls fluttered around him as you felt his violent pace slow a bit “Armin…” You were too busy lost in your dreams of pleasure to even notice the missing hand on your hips, the pad of your finger continued to draw circles on your clit bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm “Baby show me how good of a girl you are.” Armin’s words made you open your eyes with a sound of confusion and his phone was shoved in your face recording you; You could see yourself in the camera.

It was an extreme distinction from when you looked into the camera of your phone to fix your makeup, the mascara was running down your face in streams of tears, lipgloss smudged, and probably on Armin’s lips too, red rims around your eyes showing your crying from how good he was fucking you and your lips parted in an ‘O’ with moans slipping out.

His other hand left your hip and found its way to your neck squeezing just lightly and making you groan, he lifted you so your back was pressed up against his chest with him still thrusting up in you hitting your cervix “What are you?” Armin asked as you watched as your tits bounced up and down with each thrust he delivered to your cunt, his cock disappearing and reappearing inside of you.

Your hand still down rubbing circles on your clit which Armin caught onto “A-A slut…” You whispered watching as he set up the phone so it could stand on its own before putting his now free hand on top of yours “Whose slut?” Yeah, you were waiting for that. You didn’t know if he wanted you to automatically know that or if he wanted to hear you admit it after prodding for the answer.

You lowered your head gasping with your chest rising up and down with deep breaths feelings yourself come closer but then he grabbed your hand and tore it from your clit “Say it.” He said sternly with a tight hold on your hand watching you from the camera on the phone, you whined loudly wanting the attention to your clit to return as you were so close, his dick was enough but you wanted more. Like a greedy whore.

“Yours! I’m your slut armin, yours.” You shouted trying to tear your hand away from Armin’s but he didn’t allow you to and grinned at it, you saw it in the video. He looked at you like he was going to kill you like he had the evilest idea in his head “Please, I just wanna cum.” Armin only laughed under his breath at this and leaned down placing his chin on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Well hold it,” Armin said gently biting down on your neck and hearing you whimper in response. You couldn’t hold it, how could he even begin to ask you that with the way he was fucking you? He was just trying to play with your head even in this intimate moment, if you can even call it that with the filthy noises that both of you were making “I can’t.” You forced out with a sob whining as Armin’s hand moved up to grab at your jaw harshly and force you to look into the camera and see yourself.

You saw a bulge in your stomach and reached your free hand down to gently press at it making both of you groan at the same time, yours sounded more like whimpering than his did. His moans were very different from the first time you heard them.

The first time, they were like yours. Whimpers, begging moans, small sobs as if it was his first time getting head and he just couldn’t get enough of it nor could he take it but now you were the one sounding like that with all of those feelings inside of you as he groaned and whispered filthiness into your ear calling you all types of things that just made you squeeze him tighter.

“Armin please…!” You whined louder hoping to get his attention and get him to understand that you really couldn’t hold it. Even without your fingers on your clit, you were still going to cum and you were trying your absolute hardest to hold it inside but your bubble was getting ready to burst “I swear to god, if you cum this video is going all over instagram.” Your heart stopped at his words and you let the tears fall onto your cheeks that already had dried tears on them.

You really wanted to try and hold it in but you just couldn’t. His threat must’ve turned you on more because you squeezed around his cock tighter watching in the camera as you came with a yell and Armin’s hold on your neck released and he allowed you to fall forward onto the couch.

His silence haunted you and the way his thrusts slowed made you even more terrified of what he was about to do. You breathed heavily as you looked up watching as Armin reached over and grabbed his phone “Don’t get too comfortable, we’re goin’ again baby.” He spoke and you almost smiled but when you remembered what you had just done and the things he probably was planning, you stopped yourself.

A sob escaped your throat at the thought "Keep crying, all it's doing is making me wanna fuck you more." Armin said and you could practically hear the grin on his face and you wished you could wipe it off with a kiss.

That night you and Armin went at it like fucking rabbits but he never said anything more of his threat. He never told you if he did it or not and you never saw anything on his instagram so you assumed he didn’t. The thought of him showing connie, eren and those other boys crossed your mind but they never said anything, no one did so he probably didn’t. Those fuckers couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives but maybe they would if Armin told them that.

Though, it didn’t matter if he did or if he didn’t because you still would be sat on his lap all pretty as he smoked with Eren and connie like you were right now.

Armin’s hand was planted on your ass as you turned the lighter on watching as the fire erupted from the lighter before moving it toward the blunt that was in between the blonde’s lips just waiting for you. You felt the stares of the other two guys on you but you didn’t care, it didn’t matter.

Only Armin mattered and being his good girl mattered most of all. He wasn’t a good boy so someone had to be the good one. Armin inhaled before taking the blunt from his lips and blwoing the smoke out of his mouth making a ‘O’ with the smoke and your face fitting perfectly in the gap. You smiled at the trick that he often did “That’s my good girl.” Armin said with a grin on his face before passing the blunt to Eren who sat beside him.

Armin put out the lighter fire with the tips of his fingers as Eren and Connie laughed a bit to themselves at how you seemed to love his nickname for you and you really did. It made your day everytime he called you that and it may have been sad, pathetic or whatever those two said behind your back but you didn’t give a single shit.

You were Armin’s good girl and that’s all that mattered to you no matter what anyone said.

#torasplanet.ᐟ #aot smut #armin arlert #aot x reader #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #toxic!armin #mean!armin #◛⑅·˚armin;p #marls-fics.ᐟ #aot college au #i hate this #wrote this listening to ultraviolence

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 10 months ago

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What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.

Author's Note: So, this did end up getting split in two. It just reached a natural stopping point and it made more sense to add a part IV instead of have an unnaturally long part II.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

The next morning, she watched with red-rimmed eyes as the sun emerged over the horizon. As the brightness forced her to look away, she took a moment to thank whichever god had given her the foresight to send Aemond to sleep elsewhere. It had been another horrid night, and to explain it after all that had been said between them would have been far beyond miserable.

He would return soon, she was sure. With new honeyed words and gentle touches. With his beautiful pleading eye and perfect pouting mouth. With the softness of the elusive loving smile he reserved only for her.

Or did he? He had given Alys so many things she thought only they shared. Why wouldn’t he give the whore that smile as well?

The very thought had her stomach lurching again, but she raised herself to sit against the head of the bed and steeled herself against being sick. She took deep, controlled breaths, turned towards the eastern window to feel the fresh air coming off the bay, and set her mind free to wander.

Not entirely free, however. She did not let her thoughts go anywhere near her husband.

Instead, she thought of only nice things. The flowers that would soon bloom in the gardens with the coming of spring. The fresh fruits that would once more grace her table. Weather fine enough that she could ride through the Kingswood on her beloved steed, Litse, once more.

Eventually, the roiling faded, and she looked down to her stomach. “Kōdrȳsi rhinkpa jemo gaomua hae jālosa yno gaoman?” Is that as unpleasant for you as it is for me?

A soft thump near the top of her stomach felt very much like a noncommittal answer.

She laughed a little. “Iā jeme ñuha boteri raqāt daor?” Or do you enjoy making me suffer?

That question received no answer.

Just when she was about to say something more, she heard the door to her chambers creaking open and soft footsteps approaching. Of course, he would come to her so early; he had always slept so little. She clenched the sheets in her fists, preparing to face Aemond once more.

But it was not Aemond who walked through the door.

Instead of a single violet eye, she was met with a warm, brown, tear-filled pair that matched her own, and a helpless cry escaped her lips before desperate sobs overtook her. “Mama!”

Alicent ran to her side, taking her only remaining daughter in her arms and fighting back her tears. One hand rubbed soothing circles on her back while the other gently cupped her chin and lifted it so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Oh, my dearest girl…”

She buried her face in her mother’s rich auburn hair, savoring the comforting smell she’d known since infancy. There was no question that Alicent had been told about Aemond’s misdeeds – though whether he told her himself or she heard another way, she could not decide.

“I hate him,” she whispered weakly.

“No, you don’t,” Alicent countered immediately. She pulled away, took her hands, and softened her voice. “You are not capable of hating Aemond, my dear. Nor is he capable of hating you.”

“Then why did he do this to me?”

Alicent sighed, brow furrowing as she pondered her son’s actions. She did not have a good answer, for Aemond had always been the perfect son, save for the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and now, she supposed, this. It was behavior she had anticipated from Aegon, or had in the past. With her eldest son, she knew he acted out of his anger that he could not be the son his father wanted.

But with Aemond…

Aemond loved his wife. He was discontented with many things in his life – his position as the second son, his injury, and his father’s negligence – but never with her. His gaze had never strayed to any other woman, even before their engagement. Once they were betrothed, it was rare to find his gaze anywhere else but on her. He was so happy with her, always. What could have altered his devotion?

“I do not know,” Alicent finally answered. The words did little to soothe her weeping daughter. “Men… they can be wonderful when they truly love you. But even then, they have their weaknesses. Aemond was gone a very long time. Perhaps he was simply lonely?”

She shook her head and ripped her hands from her mother’s. “If he was lonely, he could have come back to me. He was supposed to return to me several times but never did.”

While Aemond was at Harrenhal, she, Aegon, and their grandsire had sent countless ravens asking for his return. Otto and Aegon asked so they could hear the news from the battlefield and try to adjust their plans accordingly. She asked because she missed and needed him. Badly.

He always sent some excuse. The battle was not yet over. Vhagar was too tired to fly. He did not want to leave his stronghold undefended when enemies lurked nearby. She had trusted each excuse like a fool.

“Did you know she’s carrying his child?” she asked, drawing the blankets further up her chest as if she could protect the life inside her from the horrible fact.

Alicent nodded. “I did. He told me.”

She frowned. At least Aemond had the decency to tell their mother himself. “What else did he tell you?”

“He was very upset, my dear.” She tried to suppress the kernel of joy that sparked at her mother’s words. “Not at you, of course, but at himself.”

“As he should be.”

“Yes, he should. But he loves you so much,” Alicent grimaced, setting a hand on her daughter’s belly. “And he loves your family so much. He is inconsolable at the thought that you may never forgive him.”

That kernel of joy went up in flames, and she looked at her mother with unfettered rage. “Why should I forgive him? He has betrayed me and has done nothing to regain my trust beyond his weak, selfish apologies.”

“Yes, but –”

“He lied to me again last night!” she cried. “He said it was only once. He looked me in the eye and lied! And he thought I would be stupid enough to believe him.”

Alicent sighed heavily as she looked away from her daughter. This wasn’t like Aemond – none of it was. Even after hearing his tearful explanation the night before, she was no closer to understanding it. Nor to finding a way to fix it.

“That was wrong of him,” she said at last. “All of it was – is. My dear, I do not know what to say or how to make it better. Your father, for all his faults, never strayed. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are in. But – ”

“But what?” Her daughter glared at her with narrowed eyes, and her hand clenched into a fist by her side. “I cannot begin to imagine forgiving him, nor how I will ever look at him again without feeling this… this rage. Mother, I cannot be a wife to someone who hurt me so deeply, no matter his supposed remorse.”

She looked down at her stomach, then back to her mother. Though her eyes were red and wet, and her lip trembled, she wore a look of absolute determination. “I want to go. I don’t know where, but I don’t want to be here. I can’t bear to be with him.”

“Oh, my darling,” the queen pulled her daughter to her chest once more, not speaking again until she had calmed. “In any other circumstance, I would arrange for you to leave for Oldtown within the day. But it is not so simple.”

The princess stiffened in her mother’s arms.

“There are so few of us left, and we have already spent so much time apart. We cannot let ourselves become estranged.” Alicent bowed her forehead to rest against her daughter’s. “We cannot appear weak, especially not you and Aemond.”

She was frozen, but at that, she gathered enough strength to lift her eyes to look at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘especially’ not us?”

“There are no more heirs, darling, not of our line. But you,” her hand rested gently on her daughter’s cheek. “You are changing that. In mere weeks, your children – yours and Aemond’s – will become the new heirs to the throne.”

“They might not,” she argued weakly, her voice soft and breathless. “They may be daughters.”

Alicent smiled sadly, placing a hand gently at the top of the girl’s stomach. “This one has given you enough trouble that I would wager the Red Keep itself that he’s a boy.”

She put her hand over her mother’s as she tried and failed to smile. The Maester came to the same conclusion many weeks ago. Then, she had been thrilled at the possibility of giving Aemond an heir. Now, she wished desperately for daughters.

“Why do our heirs matter?” She asked. “Aegon will remarry and have his own soon enough.”

The question was met by a heavy, cloying silence.

“Mother?”

Alicent schooled her face into the careful neutrality that had served her so well as queen, though the tears shining in her dark eyes betrayed her heartbreak and grief. “I am afraid Aegon will not marry nor sire any more heirs. The Maesters… they predict he will leave us by the year’s end.”

Her heart stopped, then sank. “But that means Aemond…”

“Will be king soon,” Alicent confirmed. She again brushed her daughter’s hair behind her ears. “And you will be his queen.”

The implication hung over her like a black cloud: a queen could never leave her king.

Aemond knelt in the Royal Sept at the feet of the Father. He had not slept the night before, not after he told his mother what had happened and watched her cry harder than he had ever seen. He’d gone all the way back to his rooms – those he shared with his wife – before remembering the promise he had made.

He could not go back to her. To her arms. To his home.

So, he ended up in the Sept. He didn’t remember walking there, leaving the Holdfast and crossing the upper bailey. He just knew he’d been kneeling there long before the sun crested the horizon. He’d prayed and wept and begged the gods to either reveal to him a path to redemption or strike him down and spare him further torment.

The gods ignored him. He could not blame them for it.

His lamenting was halted by the sound of the carved stone doors opening, followed by a strangle rattling sound Aemond could not identify. He turned and saw his brother and king for the first time in months.

A servant stood behind Aegon to push the wheeled chair in which the kind sat with a blanket over his lap to conceal his crooked, atrophied legs, but was dismissed with a wave of a red, scarred hand. Aegon’s injuries after Rook’s Rest had been so horrific even Aemond struggled to look at him. The scars he now bore were hardly better. The king looked twisted, broken, and weak. It was a miracle little Jaehaera could look at her father without collapsing in terror.

As Aegon wheeled himself down the Sept aisle, Aemond steeled himself against the horrible expression on his brother’s face: empathy, disappointment, and rage.

In their youth, even Aegon had been protective of their youngest sister, to the point that he restrained himself from making too many lewd comments in her presence. And after years of Aemond calling him depraved, perverted, and whorish, he would, of course, delight in the irony that his little brother was just as weak as him.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Aegon drawled. His voice was as damaged as his body, weak and rasping. “But then I saw our mother. I always thought I was the only one that could make her look like that. So sad and weepy and disappointed.”

Aemond reminded himself that Aegon was finally the uncontested king and that throttling the life from him was now more than ever considered treason. “I hardly think you are qualified to pass judgment on me,” he growled.

“No,” Aegon smirked as he brought his chair to a stop at Aemond’s side. “But I think I am well qualified to gloat, don’t you?”

Suppressing his sneer, Aemond turned to face his brother. “Are you? How many unsuitable women have you bedded? How many bastards have you sired?” He scoffed, but his threadbare feeling of righteousness immediately gave under the lead weight of his desperation. “Why does my wife abhor me when I make this one mistake when Helaena never cared when you did the same over and over again?”

“Because Helaena never loved me, Aemond.” For the first time in their lives, Aegon was the calmer and more rational of the brothers. “She cared for me as a sister, but she never loved me as her husband. Not like our haedus loves you.”

“I love her, too.” Aemond’s face fell into utter regret and despair. “So much.”

“Yet you still broke her heart.”

Aemond turned back to the statue of the Father, bowing his head. “I did not mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt her – I would never intend to hurt her.”

“I know,” Aegon angled his chair and slumped slightly. “But you did. Over and over. I saw it. Not just with your adultery, but every time you did not come home when she asked. Whenever you took Vhagar into battle without warning her – and us. And each day you weren’t here when those babes put her through the seven hells with – ”

Aemond’s heart stopped, and his entire world with it.

“‘Babes?’”

Aegon’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t say that.”

The same blatant liar he’d been for years.

“You did,” Aemond insisted, his rage at himself now turning on his king, his mother, and everyone else who had kept this secret from him – other than his ābrazȳrītsos. He could still never be angry with her. “Why did you say that?”

After a moment of frustrated silence, Aegon finally answered. “Because the Maesters have determined that your wife is carrying twins. Something you would know if you had come home when we asked.”

“I was fighting your war,” Aemond growled, rising to his feet so his brother could no longer look down at him, “to defend your throne. It was not always possible for me to return.”

“You mean it was ‘never’ possible, right?” In that moment, Aegon truly seemed a king – mature and wise for the first time Aemond had ever seen. He almost resembled their father, as he had been on the few occasions they saw him sit the throne. “You never returned. Not for your duties, and not for your wife.”

“I…”

“If you’d come home immediately after you first fucked whoever-she-is, or any other time we summoned you, perhaps things would be better. But you didn’t, and now you must deal with the consequences of your own stupid mistakes. Again.”

Aemond flinched at the harsh words but could not deny their veracity. The death of Lucerys Velaryon had sparked a war that nearly tore House Targaryen and the realm apart. Now this… this could tear his marriage apart.

His family could be broken beyond repair before their child – their children – were ever born.

A scar-mottled hand grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “I apologize. I did not come here to make you feel worse than I am sure you already do.”

“Why did you come, then?” Aemond stared at the mangled hand that held him still. He could not bear to look in his brother’s eyes.

Aegon sighed. “I am sending you back to Harrenhal.”

“No.” Aemond ripped his arm away.

“Brother, the peace talks…”

“I said no.” He clenched his fists.

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair, the sound echoing through the Sept. “I am your king, and I am giving you an order! You do not get to say ‘no.’”

Aemond froze, his rage roiling, desperate to spill over. But Aegon was his king, and other than his ābrazȳrītsos, his duty to the throne and his family was the thing most dear to him. So, he remained still and silent as he listened without protest.

“Cregan Stark and his army are due to arrive at Harrenhal in mere days,” Aegon explained. “I am in no condition to travel so far, and it would insult Stark and the others who were loyal to Rhaenyra to ask them to travel even further. So, as you are still Prince Regent, you will return to the Riverlands and act as my proxy in the negotiations.”

Absorbed by all that had happened since he’d arrived in King’s Landing, Aemond had entirely forgotten that particular duty. He’d known he had to attend before he left, but how could he go now? What would his wife think if he went back to Harrenhal – where Alys remained – so soon?

“You will take our sister with you.”

“I cannot,” the weak, whispered words escaped him without thought, “I cannot do that to her. You cannot do that to her.”

Somehow, the idea of bringing her with him to Harrenhal was worse than returning there himself. What would happen if she saw Alys? Spoke to her? She was already so hurt, and he did not want her to break entirely. He could not stand it. He would not allow it.

“Aegon, please,” he begged, dignity cast aside in favor of protecting his ābrazȳrītsos. “Do not make her go.”

The king straightened in his chair. “I wish I did not have to. She has already endured so much, and I have no desire to cause her more pain. But I have no other option.”

“Why? What could be more important than keeping her safe?”

Aegon’s face was drawn and filled with regret and grief. “Ensuring the realm sees you as a strong king when I am gone.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the Red Keep itself, and Aemond’s heart grew heavier still when he realized what his brother meant.

“You do not have much time left, do you?”

“Likely only a few months, according to the Maesters. But I’ll be gone by year’s end,” Aegon answered, trying and failing to summon a wry smile. “It’s almost not worth it to un-name you Prince Regent, when the crown will soon be yours once more.”

Silence fell once more.

Aemond wanted to argue. Against going to Harrenhal. Against bringing her with him. Against being king. For if he was king…

“She will be bound to me forever,” he said, not realizing he was saying it aloud, “in a way far stronger than just our shared blood or marriage. She will never be able to leave me.”

Aegon gripped the arm of his chair tighter. “Is that what you want?”

“I…” Yes. No. Aemond fumbled for his words, running a hand down his face as his thoughts raced through his mind like a thousand whirling dragons. “I want her to stay with me, but not at the cost of her happiness.”

Aegon considered the answer, the picture of a king passing judgment. At last, he nodded once. “Even if she decides she hates you, she will not leave. Her sense of duty is nearly as strong as yours, and she would never wish to raise the babes without their father.” He gestured to himself, then Aemond. “She knows well what becomes of children with no true father.”

There came a knock on the Sept door before Aemond could say anything more

Aegon sighed. “It is time for you to leave, I’m afraid. The wheelhouse is waiting.”

“What about – ”

Aegon waved a hand. “Mother went to your rooms this morning to explain the situation to her and help her prepare for the journey.”

“Can we not simply fly?” Aemond did not want for her to have to be stuck with him for the entire journey. The gods forbid that they should be made to share a tent or room at a roadside inn. Though doing so would delight him. He’d missed her so much that he would gladly take any moment he could with her, even when she was so angry with him.

Because she would be angry with him, and spending time with him would do nothing but make her miserable. Her happiness was more important than his. Always.

His brother scoffed as he began wheeling down the aisle toward the door. “Not in her condition.”

Of course. Aemond felt a fool for not realizing it himself. He’d flown Vhagar with Alys, but… she was not as far along as his wife, nor as delicate. A carriage it must be.

He should never have flown with Alys. Not for her sake or that of her child, but because flying atop Vhagar was something he did with his ābrazȳrītsos. It was something sacred they shared, and he had willfully desecrated it.

Gods, he had to get Alys out of his head. He could never become the husband his wife deserved when the witch still haunted his every thought.

Aegon stopped at the threshold of the Sept, again reaching out to grab Aemond’s arm. His eyes glinted with violent promise as he locked eyes with his brother. “If you do anything to hurt her again, intentional or not, I will exile you to Essos, and you will never see her again. I will declare you dead and marry her myself to ensure her children inherit the throne.”

“She deserves a better husband than you,” Aemond spat. It would break him never to see her or their children. But he knew he would deserve it.

The king smiled wickedly, still only a shadow of his former self. “She deserves better than the both of us, brother.”

Aemond bit back his retort and inclined his head to his king as he had at the coronation. “I swear on my life, I will never hurt her again.”

Aemond was waiting for her in the courtyard when she finally left the castle, well bundled in a thick, fur-lined cloak. The weather had turned, a final storm of the departing winter. Now, the sky reflected her mood – gray and somber.

At least the explosiveness of her anger had calmed, and she was relatively sure she wouldn’t strangle Aemond along the journey. But to go to Harrenhal with him, to be in the very place where he had betrayed her, to face the woman who carried her husband’s bastard …

She could be brave. She had to be brave. This was her duty, and her duty was sacred.

Aemond had taught her that.

She did not acknowledge him as she kissed her mother and brother farewell, nor as she walked to the steps set at the wheelhouse door.

But then he held out his hand to help her in.

Reluctantly, she took it. The brief touch was marginally more tolerable than the possibility of her stumbling and him having to catch her by the arm or, gods forbid, her waist. That would be far too much of a touch, and she was not sure she was ready for it – if she would ever be ready for it.

He stepped in just behind her, the two of them standing there for a moment, wondering where to sit. In the past, they’d always sat next to each other at the rear of the wheelhouse, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. But now, the thought of doing so again made her nauseous. So, she turned to the seat in the front.

“Wait,” Aemond grabbed her shoulder, then immediately released it when he saw her wince. He cleared his throat, then motioned to the opposite seat with his hand. “Please, sit here. I don’t want you getting sick riding backward.”

She looked from the seat to his wary smile. Surely he didn’t expect her to still sit with him, did he?

“I’ll sit on the other side,” he added after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a nod of her head. But when she began walking to the rear seat, Aemond again stopped her.

“Before you sit, let me…” he trailed off, stepping to the front seat and gathering most of the pillows and cushions that lay atop it into his arms. Then, he deposited them on the other side. He spent several minutes arranging them until they were finally to his liking. “There.”

He reached out his hand again to help her sit. This time, she did not take it. She was more than capable of sitting down on her own, and she was well aware that Aemond knew that, too. He was merely trying to touch her again, and that, she would not allow.

Once she sat, Aemond began fussing again. “Please stop,” she sighed when he started crossing the wheelhouse to fetch even more pillows. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do need to do this,” he insisted. She could have sworn his eye shone before he turned back to the pillows and blankets. “I want you to be comfortable. You deserve it.”

“A few pillows will not make me forgive you.” For a moment, as Aemond’s shoulders tightened, she almost regretted the words. She had spoken in haste and with cruelty. It was not something she was accustomed to. Somehow, his misdeeds were turning her into a mean and petty woman.

She was just about to apologize when Aemond spoke again, his voice more timid than it had been. “I know that, but I want to do it anyway. I want to show you how much I love you. Please.”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperately. It had been many years since he looked at her like that. When she was a girl, and she fell gravely ill, he stayed by her bedside against the instructions of the Maesters, holding her hand and begging her not to die. She had to look away from him to avoid falling into that memory.

“I am perfectly comfortable,” she said. “So you needn’t do anything more.”

With a sigh, Aemond threw the pillows in his arms carelessly on his seat, except for one – a small round cushion with the Targaryen three-headed dragon embroidered upon it. “Just this one more, please.”

She looked at it suspiciously, some instinct in the back of her mind telling her not to allow it. But his voice was so weak, so desperate. And if it could help her be more comfortable on the long journey, what harm would it do? She nodded. “Very well.”

Aemond beamed and crossed the wheelhouse. With the pillow in hand, he knelt in front of her and brought a hand to hover over her belly. Before he made contact, he looked up to her, a hopeful smile still on his lips.

But that smile was no longer reassuring to her. Instead, it brought on a wave of mistrust and fear. “What are you doing?”

Finally, he laid his hand on her. “I…” His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly could not meet her eye. “This is to cradle your belly while we ride so you are not rattled around so much.”

Her hand flew out and latched onto his wrist, her hold so hard the skin around her hand quickly grew red. She did not want to see him, so she narrowed her eyes until her coming tears blurred her vision. It took several tries for her to speak through her rapid breathing. “Did Alys teach you that, too?”

Aemond looked as if she had just driven a dagger through his heart. “She did, but –”

“I told you never to do that!” She ripped the pillow from his hands and threw it across the wheelhouse with all her strength.

He stayed kneeling, one hand braced on her seat. He had not flinched, only closed his eyes. “Wifey, if it makes you comfortable, if it helps you, then what does it matter how I learned it?”

“Because…” She furiously wiped her tears away, steadfastly looking away from him. “I don’t want you to think about her when you’re touching me.”

“I promise I am not thinking of her,” he insisted. “I could never think of her when I have with me.”

“No, only when I’m hundreds of miles away.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, his hand never leaving her belly. “How long have you known?” Aemond rasped out. “That we are to have two babes?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the words. How had he known? Who had told him? She did not look at him, did not want him to see the blush of shame that came over her. If either of them should be ashamed, it was him. What he did was far worse than keeping a secret, even one as important as this.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” she whispered. “But you did not come back when you were meant to – you were supposed to return and give Aegon a report on the war. You didn’t.”

Aemond bowed his head, hiding his cheeks – likely just as flushed as hers. He sniffed, as he often did when upset, and shook his head. “If I had known – ”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she snapped back. “Your… she was already pregnant by then, wasn’t she?”

For a moment, Aemond looked up at her in pleading before dropping his head again. “Yes,” his voice was thin and utterly defeated, “she was.” He reached to adjust the pillow by her side but decided against it. Then, he returned to the seat across from her, looking at her once before bowing his head and pounding on the roof twice.

Reins snapped, and the wheelhouse lurched forward.

The first hours in the wheelhouse passed in silence. Aemond hardly moved, staring at his clasped hands. She thought she felt his eyes on her several times, but whenever she looked at him, he did not look back.

She watched the world pass her by through the windows. She’d never gone north of King’s Landing before, other than a few short flights on Vhagar with Aemond. Then, she was too high to see the little differences, mile by mile. The trees changed and became sparser, as did the shrubs and flowers. The air felt different, as did the ground beneath the wheelhouse, which became softer and less turbulent the farther they went. Even the smell of the air changed. The slight brine she was so used to faded, turning into something green and damp. It was not an unpleasant change.

What was unpleasant was trying to fall asleep within the mountain of pillows and cushions Aemond had made for her. Once, she would have loved the plushness and softness of it. But with the babes in her belly, she had come to prefer more firmness.

She would have moved the pillows herself had she been able to. But between the sheer mass of cushions and her current size, maneuvering enough to do so was impossible. Grand Maester Orwyle had said even two months away from the birth, she was already larger than most mothers just before it. Of course, most mothers only had one babe to carry, not two. So, she was left with only wiggling around as much as she could to try and find a better position.

She didn’t.

With a huff, she looked at Aemond, hoping to silently glare at him and curse him for the stuffed throne he’d made for her. But this time, when she looked at him, he was looking back.

He wore an expression of concern, like he’d been watching her struggle for some time. His eye was wide, and his lips pinched together. She knew that look, and found herself now hating it. It meant he wanted to help, to understand what was wrong.

“I cannot get comfortable,” she explained, not that he deserved an explanation.

A spark of hope entered Aemond’s eye. “Do you…” he licked his lips. “I can hold you, if you’d like.”

“No!” She felt a slight pang of guilt at the hurt painted on his face at her rejection. He did not deserve her guilt, she reminded herself. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Aemond grimaced as if he could sense the lie. He probably could, for how well he knew her. “Are you sure? I can… I can just hold you. It won’t mean anything, I promise.”

Yes, yes, yes, her body seemed to scream. She had always found comfort in his arms, always slept best with him pressed against her. And him holding her would mean he would have to discard many of the ridiculous pillows. If she accepted, she could likely be asleep in moments.

But her heart… her heart would break to be held by him. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about if he had held Alys in this same way. If the whore had slept with her head resting on Aemond’s shoulders. If she had kissed his neck as she fell asleep, just as she had loved to do.

She would never be able to stop thinking about Alys. Every time Aemond looked at her, touched her, spoke to her. Alys would be a ghost that would haunt her forever.

A memory of the first time Aemond had taken her to the Dragonpit came to her.

He’d told her she couldn’t come with him, but relented the moment she started crying and dragged her into the carriage with him, Aegon, and Rhaenyra’s eldest sons. Jacaerys was the only one who argued against her accompanying them. He stopped complaining after Aemond shot him a threatening glare and declared that she was braver and more capable than he would ever be. But when they arrived at the Dragonpit, and Sunfyre was led up from the dens, she’d cowered behind Aemond. The sweet little creature - perhaps the size of one of the king’s hounds - she had once watched flit around Aegon wherever he went had somehow quickly turned into a beast larger than anything she’d ever seen, baring sharp teeth the size of her dinner knives. Aegon kneeled in front of her and nudged her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry, haedus. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” She still screamed when Aegon stepped within reach of those fangs. And again, when Aemond pulled her from behind his back so she could not hide from the dragon. “Do not be afraid, haedus. Sunfyre is only a dragon, as are you. The blood of the dragon runs true in your veins,” he said as she buried her face in her chest. Something about the words seemed to make Jace angry, but she didn’t know why. “I can’t help it, lēkia,” she whined. “He’s scaring me.” Aemond huffed slightly, petting her head tenderly. “You are afraid because you know very little about dragons. What we do not know can be terrifying.” He turned her to face Sunfyre, who was now perfectly docile while being saddled by Aegon. She squirmed to escape his grasp. “If you watch and listen to the Dragonkeepers, you will learn. The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.”

“Why did you do it?” she asked suddenly.

“My love?” Aemond looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns. But when she held his stare, he whispered gently, “You don’t want to know. Not really.”

“I do,” she declared.Though his answer may shatter her heart completely, she had to know. His childhood voice echoed in her head. ‘The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.’

She swore she could see him remember the same memory she had. His eye darted around the wheelhouse anxiously. “It is not a good reason.”

“Unless she held you at sword point each time, there is not a reason I would call ‘good.’” She hoped it was something like that, that he hadn’t been given the choice to refuse her. It would make everything better, almost fine. But if it had been something like that, he would have already told her.

Aemond was silent for a long while. Long enough for the sun to reach its peak and begin its descent.

“I’d seen only one battle before I arrived at Harrenhal – Rook’s Rest,” he began. “In that battle, one dragon and rider were killed, and Aegon and Sunfyre were permanently wounded.”

“I know,” she whispered. She’d been there when Aemond had brought Aegon, broken, bloody, and burnt, back to the castle. She’d seen what happened to him. Aemond held her hair back as she was sick in the corridor outside the Grand Maester’s rooms.

Aemond nodded. “I was so afraid, ābrazȳrītsos, of what I would see when I truly went to war. And it was just as terrible as I’d feared. Even worse than what happened to Aegon, sometimes.” He waited to continue until she had unscrunched her eyes as she fought away another wave of nausea. “Every time I was scared, raqiarzītsos... And alone. She offered an escape. A chance to not think about the war, for at least a little while.”

“And to not think about me.”

He blanched, moving to stand, but thought better of it and sat back in his seat. “My love, I never wanted to stop thinking about you. I promise. I thought about you every moment of every day. You are what gave me the strength to ride to battle again and again – knowing that once it was all over, I’d be able to return to you.”

She glared at him. “So, you thought about me while you were fucking her?”

“Gods, no!” This time, he did rise, crossing the wheelhouse to fall at her feet. “I… I didn’t think about anything when I was with her. Not about you, or the war, or even her. It was the only way I could empty my mind of all the things that tormented me.”

“… I tormented you?” The idea that she could have done anything to make him want to forget her brought tears to her eyes.

“No. Never.” He tried to reach for her to cup her cheek, but she shrank away from him. “Don’t ever think that you could. What tormented me was that I was so far from you – that I could not be there for you. And the babes.”

He could have been, she knew. He should have been. “You had many opportunities to return. Why didn’t you?” Her voice caught in the back of her throat as a sob tried to escape. “Were you too ashamed of what you’d done?”

“I was and am ashamed,” he declared, and she believed him, “but that is not why I remained at Harrenhal. I knew that if I saw you again, I would never return to the battlefield. It was hard enough to leave you the first time. I could not endure it again.”

There was silence.

She leaned back towards him and allowed him to finally lay his hand across her cheek – an unconscious attempt to soften the blow of her next question. “Is it true that you spared her only because you lusted for her? That you took her to your bed in your first week at that awful place?”

Aemond sobbed, one horrible, wretched sob. His hand dropped, and he lowered his head into her lap, clutching at her dress like a child. The urge to comfort him tingled in her veins, to pet his hair and murmur soft words to him, to gently remove his eyepatch and assure him that all was well.

She did not move an inch.

At last, Aemond lifted his head. The bottom of his eyepatch was just askew enough to allow the tears from his ruined eye to escape. “I spared her because she claimed to be a witch – a seer. The claim was backed by several residents of the keep who had no reason to lie. She offered to lend me her aid in the war, to share her visions with me so I could be prepared when I led my men to battle. I agreed. I wanted to avoid the kind of slaughter I saw at Rook’s Rest. To prevent anyone from going through what happened to our brother. Then…

“I did lie with her in the first week,” he turned away as though he couldn’t say the words while facing her. “On the sixth day. We were to advance on Darry the next morning, to… it doesn’t matter why, just that it was the first time I would lead men to victory of their deaths. I asked Alys to share her vision of what would occur, and she did. She saw how fearful I was and told me that to win the battle, I must go into it without fear. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t.”

He swallowed thickly, still avoiding her gaze, and dropped his hand. “Then she offered her… further aid. I will not wound you by detailing what we did. But I will assure you that I did resist.” He licked his lips. “At least at first.”

A small comfort, she supposed.

“When I was with her, all my worries faded to nothing. I thought it was perhaps a spell she put on me, but it was not. My body just needed to find that satisfaction and release. I was hoping it was a spell. For that would mean I did not truly betray you.”

He faced her again. She did not know whether it comforted or saddened her to look into his wet, despairing eye. “But I did. And I continued to do so every time my fear threatened to overwhelm me. Which was, regrettably, often.

“I was weak,” he said with a mirthless laugh, “I was so weak. I should have been braver – better. I should have been the husband you deserve. I will spend every day of my life regretting it and trying to right what I have done wrong. I swear it.” He nodded as if to affirm the oath, yet it brought her no assurance. “I am so sorry, my love.”

He said nothing else.

She still had so many questions, wanted to know so much more. Her fears had barely been quelled. But it was something. And at the very least, the emotions Aemond’s story subjected her to had exhausted her. Enough that she knew she could close her eyes and be asleep within a heartbeat.

“Thank you. For telling me,” she whispered as she moved back in her seat, away from him. “I would like to rest now.”

Aemond bowed his head and retreated to his seat without asking again if he could hold her.

Her traitorous heart almost wished he had.

It was raining when she woke. The weather had apparently followed them north. She leaned closer to the window, wanting the wet air to cool her, but stopped when she noticed the wheelhouse wasn’t moving.

“Ser Marston and one of the porters are arranging rooms,” Aemond said softly. She did not reply, nor look at him. A glance out the window informed her that they were in some village she didn’t know, outside a relatively large building whose worn sign, cut in the shape of a stone wall, read simply ‘Inn.’

That question answered, she still didn’t look at Aemond. She knew he’d likely been watching her since they’d arrived… wherever they were. Perhaps longer. Judging by the dusk settling over the horizon, she’d been sleeping quite a while. And yet she hadn’t woken. She wondered if she should start sleeping during the day instead of at night.

“Mother said…” Aemond halted, likely waiting for her to look at him. She didn’t. “We will be sharing a room.”

She whipped her head around to face him, ignoring the slight dizziness that came with the motion. “No.”

Aemond sighed. “Raqiarzītsos, if the innkeeper notices we are apart, he may talk about it. Rumors will start.”

“Can’t we just pay him to remain silent? That’s what Mother did to prevent rumors from spreading about Aegon.”

“And yet rumors spread nevertheless,” his voice was soft and firm, like a parent explaining something to their child. The thought sickened her.

She wanted to say that those rumors spread because their mother could not pay off every woman Aegon had his way with – there had been too many to even know who they all were. But it had been their mother herself who told her that this would happen, that she would have to somehow stomach being in the same room as Aemond at night. That the consequences of not doing so would be worse than those that would come from him being there.

“You will not sleep in the bed,” she ordered, finally facing her husband, “you will sleep on whatever chair or couch is in the room or the floor if there is none.”

Aemond sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Very well.”

Curious, she’d expected more of a fight. For him to insist that a servant could see the half-empty bed and raise questions. For him to try and ply her into letting him into the bed with promises of holding her and keeping her warm. For him to try something. But he didn’t.

“Good.”

It was not a very nice room.

The paint was chipping off the walls, and the floorboards creaked. The bed linens were faded, the fur blankets patchy. The small table on one side leaned to one side, and an unshaped piece of wood held the couch by the fire level.

At least there was a couch, Aemond supposed. And as it was near the fire, he would not have to sleep in the cold to avoid depriving his wife of blankets.

She crossed the room to the bed, sitting on its edge and looking out the window again. After he’d agreed that he would not try and convince her to let him join her in the bed, she’d spent the rest of their time waiting in the carriage looking out one window, then crossing to the other side of the wheelhouse just before they were called to their room.

Even now, he could see her eyes flitting from one building to another, following the villagers as they milled about and fixating on the livestock that wandered the streets – cows, donkeys, sheep, even a small group of piglets.

He thought it was a distraction at first. But when she continued to watch the inconsequential town for far longer than he ever would, even in a new town, he realized it was something more. When she quirked her head slightly to the right and the ghost of a smile flitted over her lips, he knew what it was.

This was the first village she’d ever been in.

She was born in King’s Landing, and other than their trip to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral… she’d never left the city.

Something in Aemond’s heart cracked. He should have done something, taken her on adventures. He should have brought her on Vhagar and flown her wherever her heart desired.

But he hadn’t. He’d left her in King’s Landing, in the Red Keep. In a cage.

But now… her first trip away from the capital was one she didn’t want to be on. It wasn’t a happy occasion. And their destination was likely the place of her worst nightmares.

He should never have let Aegon order him to bring her to Harrenhal.

Aemond opened his mouth to apologize to her again but said nothing. She had already been forced to be stuck in a wheelhouse with him for most of the day. The kindest thing he could do would be to let her alone for as long as he could.

So, he went towards the door, turning back over his shoulder to look at her for a moment. She was still watching the village. It made him smile a bit. “I’m going to get supper. I’ll be back in a short while.”

She did not say anything back. She only lifted a hand to rest on the window.

She’d hardly noticed that Aemond had left. When he told her where he was going, she had just seen a small group of children playing in the muddy road. One of the little girls had spotted her watching from the window and shouted something to her friends. Soon, all the children were staring at her. She lifted a hand to the window to wave at them.

Then, she heard the door closing, and when she turned to look, Aemond was gone.

When she looked back to the children, they had already run off. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. “Nyke urnēbagon jemī tymāt umban daor.” I cannot wait to watch you play.

Before Aemond left for Harrenhal, he had taken her back to the nursery where they’d been raised. The furniture had been covered, as neither Jaehaera nor Rhaenyra’s son Aegon were inclined toward play. Not after what they went through. So, both had moved to their own rooms when they returned to the keep.

But the nursery would not be empty for long.

Aemond had pulled away the sheet covering the toy chest and knelt before it, examining each toy as though it were a priceless jewel. He told stories about them, recalling how they had played with them, and made guesses about which ones their child would prefer and what their choices would foretell about them.

He rediscovered the two wooden dragons they had once painted and named for themselves – Kēlītsos and Balerion. There were too many tales of those little dragons to retell them all, so he told only the one where they imagined the dragons had come alive and had flown them to the ruins of Old Valyria. Aemond would slay whatever beasts had wounded Balerion and killed their great-aunt, Aerea. Then, they would reclaim their ancestral homeland.

He’d kissed her belly then, calling the babe inside the “heir of Old Valyria.”

Now, they were the heir – heirs – to something else entirely.

To a broken family.

To a throne soaked in the blood of their kin.

To the sins of their father.

For a moment, she wished they could simply be like those children, playing without a care.

But they never would be.

They would still be children. They would still play and laugh. They would be mischievous and sneak sweets from the kitchens or stay awake long past the time they were sent to bed. They would still cry for their parents when they scraped a knee or had a nightmare.

But they would also be heirs. They would be taught by the finest scholars in the world how to bear the weight of their responsibilities. They would be trained by mighty warriors on how to defend themselves from the enemies they would have since birth. They would always know that their life was never wholly theirs.

Now, they would also always know that their father had betrayed their mother. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, somehow, they would learn of Aemond’s mistress – the mother of their bastard half-sibling.

Part of her hated that child, the small thing that was not even fully formed and yet was the manifestation of all her pain.

Part of her, perhaps a larger part, pitied it.

After all, it was a bastard. The world had never been kind to bastards. After the role bastards had played in the war, she could not imagine it would grow any kinder.

What would the life of the bastard be like? Would it play the same games as her children? Would it have the same favorite toys, or foods, or colors?

While its trueborn siblings were learning to rule the realm and ride dragons, what would it do? Perhaps it would be a servant, like its mother, or become a laborer of some kind.

Would it know who its father was? Would it know the blood of the dragon ran through its veins? Would it ache for a bond with a dragon, as Aemond had? Would it spend its life feeling incomplete, yet never know why?

As she caught sight of the tears shining on her cheeks in her reflection off the window, she decided she did not hate the child. It was not at fault for the sins of its mother, or its father.

She said a brief prayer for it – for its health and happiness. Then one for her own children.

When Aemond came back through the door, carrying a tray laden with steaming food, she wiped her tears away and looked only once more out the window.

The children had gone home.

“Are you hungry, ābrazȳrītsos?” Aemond asked.

No, she wasn’t. But she knew she must eat regardless, for the sake of the babes. So, she crossed the room and sat at the small table.

She did not speak as Aemond served her the meal – fresh, steaming bread, warm stew, and a pot of tea. He did not try and get her to speak. He simply ate his food, watching her carefully.

He faded into the background as her thoughts continued to wander to that poor little child growing in Alys’ womb.

Would it have silver hair? Purple eyes? Or would it inherit its mother’s coloring, whatever it was?

She did not know what Alys looked like. She knew so little about the woman who had shared in Aemond’s sin.

Was she beautiful? Was she intelligent? Was she kind?

It was hard to imagine that she would be kind. That any woman who would lie with a married man would be kind. After all, she was called a witch. Was there such a thing as a kind witch?

Was there even such a thing as a witch?

Aemond said that he spared Alys because she could foretell the future. That the reason he’d first brought her into his bed was because she told him he needed to be calm for the battle ahead if he wished to prevail.

Prevail he did.

Were the visions real, then? Had Aemond only returned from that first battle, the second, the last, because of what Alys had told him?

If Alys were to thank for Aemond surviving the war, should she not be grateful for it? But how could she be grateful for something that had so thoroughly broken her heart?

How was she supposed to feel? How was she supposed to know what to feel? What to do?

“I want to meet her,” she said suddenly. Even her whisper sounded like an echoing shout after so long a silence.

Aemond stared at her. Fear and regret and anger in his gaze. His mouth hung open, and his skin had gone deathly pale.

“Alys,” she clarified. “I want to meet her.”

“My love, please. You don’t.” His voice quavered like a rose in a thunderstorm. “I don’t want you to, it won’t – ”

“I have questions for her. I will ask them.” Tears fell down Aemond’s cheeks, but he did not argue. It almost made her smile. “You may be there if you wish. But I will meet her.”

Aemond nodded. “If that is what you truly want.”

She felt no fear or hesitation. “It is.”

After she finished her meal, her exhaustion finally settled upon her. It had only been a day since Aemond returned to the Red Keep. Only a day since both the war and her world ended.

She just wanted to sleep. In that moment, it was all she wanted.

She had Aemond turn away as she undressed and donned her nightgown. He obeyed, staring into the fire and never once looking back until she was beneath the rough-spun blankets on the bed and gave him permission.

He only removed his leather doublet and his boots before settling onto the couch by the fire, its high back blocking them from each other’s view.

The fire crackled.

“Good night, ābrazȳrītsos,” Aemond said. “Sleep well. I love you.”

She did not reply.

She so badly wanted to sleep. But it seemed both her body and the babes in her belly wanted otherwise. No matter how she lay, she could not find comfort. No matter what she thought of, her mind would not calm.

At least she took comfort in that her restlessness was likely preventing Aemond from finding sleep as well.

When she heard his voice again, she stiffened, preparing herself to argue with him again. But Aemond did not speak.

He sang.

“Bantis ropatas Night has fallen

Yn zūgagon daor But do not fear

Sȳndror ilos daor There is no darkness

Kesrio syt drakarys vamiot ilzai. For dragonfire is near.”

It was a lullaby. One he had discovered in an Old Valyrian children’s book he found in the back of the Red Keep’s library. He had sung it to her when she was still in her crib so he could practice their ancestral language.

He stopped singing for some time when his voice settled, adjusting to the new, lower pitch. But when he began again, it was even more beautiful than before. Quiet and soft, but still beautiful.

“Yn ozelēnagon daor And shiver not

Vasīr vēzos hembistas Though the sun has gone

Drakarys kesīr ilzai Dragonfire is here

Aōhi dijaves rāelagon. To keep you warm.”

When was the last time he sang to her? Obviously not in the past six months, but when?

“Aōhi bartos mazilībās Lay down your head

Se aōhī laehossa lēdes And close your eyes

Drakarys avy mīsilza Dragonfire will protect you

Yn sepār kesan. And so too will I.”

Ah, her eyes welled with tears when she finally remembered. It had been the first night after they learned they were to have a babe, and Aemond had bedded her more passionately than he had since their wedding night and more gently than he had ever been.

He sang when they were spent, and she curled into him to sleep. Aemond brushed his fingers in light patterns over her belly and sang. But was that for her or the babe?

The last time he had sung for her and only her… she could not recall. It had been some ordinary day when she did not know she should hold onto that memory and keep it close. She did not know it was a memory she would need when Aemond went to war.

“Dōnī ēdrurī emilās, ñuha raqno Dream sweetly, my love

Bantio rȳ ēdrūs Sleep all through the night

Nyke aōma unna I will be with you

Vapār ōños arlī amāzīlza. Until again there is light.”

She wanted to be angry at him, accuse him of only singing now so he could worm his way back into her heart. But she knew that accusation would be false. After the way he fussed over her today, she knew he was truly worried for her health – and the health of the babes.

Besides, his voice and the familiarity of the song were now truly lulling her to sleep.

She was grateful for it.

“Skorī ñāqes kesīr ilos When morning is here

Se īlvon geron vamiot ilza And our journey is nigh

Īlon henkirī īlvī zaldrīzī kipili We will both mount our dragons

Sepār, sōvīlā.” Then, we will fly.”

Her last thought before her eyes slid closed was that she hoped he had not sung the lullaby – their lullaby – to Alys or her child.

Aemond woke to the sound of something crashing. He was immediately awake, throwing off his blanket and bolting to his feet. But he saw no one.

What he did see was an empty bed.

In an instant, his panic had risen to a peak it had reached only once before – the day he’d found out that his half-sister and her husband had taken King’s Landing, and in the aftermath, Aegon was missing and his ābrazȳrītsos was now in the hands of his enemies.

A horrible retching soon alerted him to his wife’s presence on the floor of the room, halfway between the bed and the washbasin against the far wall. But it did not quell his panic.

She was panting between harsh bouts of sickness, her arms trembling as they struggled to hold her up. Aemond moved immediately, kneeling beside her and sweeping her hair away from her face. His words of comfort and concern died instantly when he felt her lean against him.

She was so thin.

Her nightgown was soaked through with sweat, allowing him a clear and horrible view of every knob on her spine and curve of her ribs. The further she pressed into him, the more he could feel the sharp planes of her shoulder blades and the sickening lightness of her form. She was like some of the near-corpses he’d seen in the war – hardly more than skin stretched taut over mere bones.

He had not seen it before. She’d been bundled in robes and gowns and furs. And when she changed into her nightgown earlier this evening, she had not allowed him to look at her until she was buried beneath the blankets.

She knew.

She knew how frail she was. He knew and had not wanted him to know…

Had not wanted him to worry. Not while he was at war.

“Ābrazȳrītsos…”

She sobbed once before she was sick again. He said nothing else until he was relatively certain whatever illness had possessed her passed, and tried not to be too grateful that she didn’t push him away.

“Little darling, please,” he pulled her closer so he could rest against his chest. She did not resist. “What happened?”

She shook her head, reaching to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of her nightgown. Aemond stopped her, set her hand back on her lap, and used his own sleeve instead. She sighed as if the gesture somehow upset her, then slumped slightly. “Nothing happened. Nothing new, at least. This happens nearly every night.”

Every night. No wonder she was so thin.

“Still?” Aemond finally managed to ask in a rasping voice. She had been so sick in those early days – it was what had prompted them to take her to the Maesters, where they discovered she was with child. But it had gotten better in the days before he left for Harrenhal. She had said it was getting better.

She nodded, her eyes shut tight as she turned away from him. Was it from exhaustion or shame? “It…” she swallowed, and Aemond realized how dry her throat must be. He would fetch her something to drink as soon as she could stand. “It never stopped.”

“Oh ābrazȳrītsos…” his voice broke as the realization of how badly she had been suffering sank in. And all the while, he’d been sharing his bed with another woman.

If the Father truly cared for justice, he would have struck Aemond dead the moment he touched that witch.

Aemond held her close, panting with the effort it took to hold back his tears of shame. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She was silent for a long while. Then, “I’m tired, Aemond.”

“I know.”

A long pause. It took him longer than it should have to realize she was looking at him and longer still to recognize the plea in her eyes. She wanted his help. Or perhaps more accurately, needed his help.

So help her he did, eagerly. He sat her at one of the chairs by the table while he removed her soiled nightgown and dressed her in another. He brought the washbasin to her so he could help her wash her face, then brought her a pitcher of fresh water so she could rinse her mouth. He braided her hair once more and carried her back to bed,

Once he’d pulled the blankets back over her, he reached out to her. When she didn’t flinch away, he softly stroked her cheek. “Is there anything else I can get you, my love?”

She opened her eyes just slightly. “I’m cold.”

He turned on his heel to fetch his blanket from the couch. There was still warmth radiating from the hearth. He could move to the rug.

But when he’d settled that blanket on her as well, she opened her eyes wider and gazed up at him. “Aemond…”

If there was ever proof that the gods could be merciful, that was it.

Still, he had to be certain he wasn’t mistaken. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Thank all the gods in the world, she nodded.

His veins buzzing with ecstatic joy, he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. As he wrapped his arms around her, it almost didn’t matter that he could feel her frailness, that he knew she had only asked this because she truly was cold, or that his touch was tainted by his sins.

Aemond was sharing a bed with his wife. He was holding her. Her, and their children.

When her breathing finally settled, and she drifted off to sleep, Aemond closed his eyes, tucked his face into her hair, and prayed he dreamt of a world where he had slain Alys the moment he first saw her.

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iid-smile · 2 months ago

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can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji series

| overview |

never date a criminal for the thrill, especially a cheating bum like him. you've forgiven toji one too many times, so many red flags you didn't see, like him stealing your surname and divorcing you right after. the birth of your son, megumi, was the last straw, except he was the one that left you. he's a liar, a cheater, a deadbeat, a misogynist... there's so much more you want to say. did you still cry? yes. did it still break you? yes. six years passed, and somewhere in that time, you saw on the news that he got caught. good for him. but not good for you, because once that prison got a hold of your house number, and then your mobile phone number, they were calling you nonstop. apparently, said cheating bum misses you. really misses you.

| content warning |

cheating, profanity, smoking, crime, mentions of murder and violence, pregnancy, angst, suggestive themes once or twice (no smut!), toxic ex toji, toji honestly just wants some love, nothing that's too off from what happened in the manga/anime except you're "mamaguro" (dont wanna get mixed up with surnames), and his ways of living never changed for the better, may or may not get fluffy as this progresses, nothing violence/crime related is explicitly described

| main cast |

fushiguro toji, fushiguro megumi, kong shiu

feel free to hide this tag — #cgrom ୨ৎ — if you wanna hide this!

prologue: before the storm

you're desperate. seeing the only man you've loved in your life walking away from you was making you desperate. you try you best to keep up with his long strides, attempting to grab at his shirt, only to be just out of reach. "toji—"

"i already told you, whatever's in your stomach, it's not mine." that hurt, those words. it hurts each time he says them.

you speed up and get in front him, to block him away from the only exit. "i haven't been with anyone but you!" you plead. useless, really. "you can't just stand here at tell me it's not yours, toji. this is our son!"

"your son now. you should stay away if you know what's good for you." with ease, he pushes past you, his deep voice rumbling through your veins and making you... dizzy. are you this attached to the point it's driving your body insane? "got too much debt to pay for another needy clone like you."

the one time he willingly turns to you, is when he drops the keys, your keys, on the floor. "keep the place, though it's under your name anyways." and he has the audacity to laugh in your face. indeed it is under your name, because this guy who actually has a "job" refuses to pay for shit, living around for free.

the door slams shut.

you don't doubt he was sleeping elsewhere most nights. who knows who that guy was messing with? now you've only got yourself to deal with... and a plus one.

table of contents

i. a strong legacy to be left behind

you've been muting your phone over and over again the entire week, and it's stressing you out. what's worse is bills are due in a weeks time, you haven't eaten in ages, megumi's elementary school is putting pressure on you, and you're running out of your beloved cigarettes. how many times will you have to come clean to your six year old son to try and make him understand?

ii. sent straight from... hell, with a cigarette in hand

you snuck out at night. you're desperate with any sort of relief, but being a "good" mother comes at its cost. coincidentally, your lighter went out just before your cigarette could light. lucky. as if it was meant to— or orchestrated to happen, there's a man next to you that just so happens to have a light. talking to strangers isn't so risky... or that's what you think, at least.

iii. shopping spree with a stranger's card

talking to strangers really isn't risky! especially when they're loaded with money. not a single time did you have the temptation to fill your carts with the finest luxury, or items that have been on your wishlist for ages. no, not at all. all you asked for was some help with your bills, and to let megumi get whatever he wants.

iv. a jealous ex

not this bum again... it's been six years, why can't he get over you? to your dismay, his personality has become ten times more potent, which means ten times more snarky, sarcastic and smart-mouthed, and ten times more that you're this close to wanting to rip your ears out. just this once, you'll hear him out. no way he still thinks you'll take him back in a heartbeat; he knows you're not that dumb.

v. ???

tba...

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chasingpj · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

"Hi, my name's Nico!"

pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader

summary: you found your pugsley addams

warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member

category: one-shot but not really

a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3

“Hi, my name is Nico!”

Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter.

How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.

He’s just so… lively.

The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo.

The sight was violent.

It gave you a headache.

“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one.

Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later.

How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.

“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.”

Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive.

After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice.

“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.”

The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.”

Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest.

Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.

At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn.

★・・・・・・★

“Psst.”

Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened.

Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around.

If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight.

There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach.

“PSST.”

Great.

The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested.

But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed.

You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.

A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related.

“What?”

Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.”

Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue.

The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy.

Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head.

Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week.

“It does that sometimes.”

“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled.

“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed.

“I’m scared.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—”

“I’m not your sister.”

Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.

“Ugh.”

The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue.

“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.”

“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.

There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind.

Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it.

Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth.

Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god.

“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.

Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment.

He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word.

��・・・・・・★

Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea.

In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off.

Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend.

You hated it.

Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."

"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more

practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?”

Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion.

The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks.

“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.”

With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s.

A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall.

The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions.

Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.”

He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?”

“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.”

Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement.

Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.

“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?”

Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.”

"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology. “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression.

Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.”

★・・・・・・★

Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt.

Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast.

A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.

As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet.

Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while.

“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs.

It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.

“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.”

Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face.

“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit.

A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.”

Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!”

You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time.

“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.”

Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish.

“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth.

“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.”

A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset.

“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.”

Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something.

“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.”

The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.”

Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure.

★・・・・・・★

“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating.

“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.”

Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck.

A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to.

Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his.

Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest.

Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you.

★・・・・・・★

How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance?

After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.

Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.

“Nico?”

“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you.

It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse.

He hugged you.

His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it.

“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it.

The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat.

The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right?

Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort.

This is odd.

Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed.

Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small.

Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you.

It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different.

That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him.

“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you.

You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most.

The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.

“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.

“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace.

“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.

Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room.

Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears.

You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering.

Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.”

Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay.

Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep.

★・・・・・・★

“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room.

The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.

Since when have you been maternal?

“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business.

“You know who.”

Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.”

“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god.

“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.

“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.”

“Wait.”

You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle.

“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room.

“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.”

You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”

★・・・・・・★

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder.

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence.

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek.

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading.

“Help me!” He was saying without a word.

The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.”

Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!”

Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.

You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up.

Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones.

Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side.

The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him.

For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.

“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.”

The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out.

Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back.

It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it.

You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate.

Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you.

He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.

Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase.

Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone.

As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction.

The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do?

His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines.

Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.”

“Nico?”

Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions.

The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.

Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done.

“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away.

Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister.

Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return.

The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood.

“I want to go home.” He frowns.

Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years.

“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper.

Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it.

The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.

★・・・・・・★

“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair.

The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.

His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one.

“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-”

“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily.

“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.”

His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door.

“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.”

★・・・・・・★

Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training.

Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest.

You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords.

A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.

“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind.

The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run.

A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them.

You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.

“No one messes with my little brother.”

As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead.

You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them.

Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.

Be nice my brother or else.

masterlists

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympian fanfic #nico di angelo #nico di angelo fanfic #nico di angelo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympian fic

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