#i know his wing is broken but HUG | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notjustjavierpena · 20 days ago

Text

Tink

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is so many days late but I promise that it is worth it. I hope you enjoy a broken heart.

Summary: You leave a Halloween party to go see Joel but it turns into a horror show when conversation between you takes a poor turn.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, secret relationship, dad’s best friend, possessiveness, daddy kink, lots of pet names, alcohol consumption, dirty and dark Tinkerbell roleplay, dirty talk, ass smacks!!!, clit stim, fingering, squirting, doggy style, overstim, tears, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, angst, fighting, no happy ending.

Word count: 9.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60461590

Tink

You’re readjusting the straps on your pale gold stilettos as Joel slips into your childhood bedroom. He has gone unnoticed by the rest of the people in the house like he always does, having mastered the art of sneaking around since the beginning of your little fling. This is even as he has gotten far bolder over the summer, especially over the last month when you told him you loved him. It fills him with a carefreeness that he hasn’t felt in years, a feeling unlocked from his teenage days that he was so sure his body had forgotten by now. However, it doesn’t mean that he is careful not to disturb the noise downstairs as he clicks the door shut.

You’re standing in front of the full-body mirror just opposite the door, bent over as you undo your shoe strap to tighten it slightly. Joel feels like a damn dog as he lets his eyes skim up your beautiful legs, letting his gaze wander over the body he has come to know so well before it eventually settles on your strutting ass.

You are wearing a Tinkerbell costume, its green satin fabric hugging your curves like it has been specially tailored to your body. You have chosen a version of the fae that he doesn’t quite remember from the movie he used to watch with Sarah; the neckline dips way low, the straps are tucked away into the top to expose your chest and shoulders, and the hemline of the skirt barely reaches your mid-thigh which he is sure that a twirl will reveal your underwear to the world, something that makes his jaw tighten when you should be for his eyes only. And then there are the wings; pale, translucent and with tiny flecks of gold in them. You may be demanding attention from people other than him but despite being sexy and driving him wild, you mostly look cute. It makes him smile affectionately as he takes a moment to gather himself instead of being completely overtaken by the need to possess.

You are lost in your own world, clearly not expecting anyone to come in, so it takes you by surprise when he pads across the room to lay his hands on your hips without announcing his presence. He swallows hard as he sees the two of you in the mirror, imitating something far more explicit than what he is actually doing.

His touch startles you, eliciting a small gasp from you as you feel him caress on top of the fabric of your dress. He curls his fingers into it, fighting the urge to lift it and see what kind of panties you’re wearing underneath.

“You frightened me,” you say but there’s no accusation in your tone. Instead, he can hear that you’re happy to see him and his hands stay on your body, only going up to your waist, as you straighten, “Where does Dad think you are this time?”

“Restroom,” he answers simply and lets his palms move to lay on your tummy. He leans his head over your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror with a soft smile. When he speaks, it is with paternity lacing his voice, “Ya goin’ out like that?”

“He might think you have bladder issues soon, old man. You can’t just barge in each time you want some sugar,” you tease him, eyes sparkling in competition with the glitter on your blush-covered cheeks. Joel leans in to kiss your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume.

“You smell so good, little fae,” he says instead of acknowledging your jab at his age, the tip of his nose skimming along the delicate column of your throat. Shamelessly, he grabs the hem of your dress and lifts it just enough to start something between the two of you that he cannot finish, “What’ve you got under here?”

“Joel,” you say with fake outrage and tut disapprovingly. The both of you know that he’ll fuck you at some point tonight. Still, you make a statement out of grabbing his much bigger hands and removing them from your dress. You stretch his arms out in front of you both to keep him out of reach but he is so much stronger than you, manhandling you easily until he catches you in an embrace from behind. Being caged against his broad chest makes you giggle so goddamn heavenly, his body responding with interest in getting you on your back.

“You didn’t answer my question, Princess,” he whispers into your ear, letting his breath tickle your skin until you shiver.

“About?” You light up the room when you smile innocently at him in the mirror and God, if it doesn’t make his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Your eyes are wide, your grin mischievous.

“If you’re goin’ out like that,” he tightens his arms around you, focusing on the softness of your palms in his rough ones. He isn’t letting you go before you give him an answer.

“I am,” you lean back into his chest, turning your head away from the mirror to glance up at him through your lashes. You are in the mood to dare tease even further, “Don’t you like it?”

“You know I do. Too much actually,” he murmurs back at you as he takes in your costume once more in the mirror. He notices that you bite your lip as he ogles you, tilting back and forth on your feet while you let him eat you with his eyes. When he finds that you aren’t looking at yourself but rather still batting your eyes up at him, he reaches up to cup your jaw. He turns your face to the mirror, “I’d like it much more behind these walls.”

“I’m not staying here,” you say. Joel lets out an annoyed sigh and shakes his head as if to argue but his head isn’t in it. He feels somewhat secure when your voice sounds a little out of breath, “Besides, you know I’ll always come back home to you. No one makes me feel like you do.”

“You better, sweetheart,” he can almost imagine you shrinking down and flying around in his close proximity just to tease him. He finally moves you around in his arms until you are face-to-face with him and then, still holding you by your chin, he leans in to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s slower and deeper than usual. He brushes your soft tongue with his own, kissing you like he is claiming you and hopefully reminding you of what awaits back home.

When he pulls back, you’ve gone dumb. There’s a vacancy in your eyes, a dazed look that tells you just how ready you are to melt into him and forget about everything else. Joel would love to keep you home but he’ll settle for the satisfaction he feels from looking at you blink rapidly, “Still with us, little fae?”

“Barely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile.

“Go have fun,” he encourages with a little smirk and, albeit reluctantly, lets you go but not before giving your ass a playful smack and causing you to yelp quietly, “Before I change my mind.”

“Bye, Daddy,” you whisper to taunt him as you leave out the door, and Joel has to stay behind for several minutes to get his aching cock to flag down. It doesn’t take long since he is an expert now, has learned to join the party downstairs without any trace of what he has been doing to his best friend’s daughter.

—

The party has been going on for a few hours now, with costumes ranging from elaborate to barely there. The crowd of people crammed into the tiny house is buzzing with exciting fun, resulting in happy bursts of laughter bouncing off the walls along with the music, both of which get louder as drinks are consumed. Yet no matter how many times your friends cause you to throw your head back to laugh along and no matter the three drinks you already have in your system, your mind plays tricks on you and continuously goes back to Joel. The way he had kissed you goodbye earlier still feels imprinted on your lips, haunting you like a ghost and causing your skin to buzz, your thighs to press together. Nothing seems to get you out of this trance, not even the lingering eyes caused by the dangerous hemline of your Tinkerbell costume. The attention feels good, sure, but it is nothing compared to the way Joel makes you feel when he looks at you.

You take a sip from your fourth drink. You’re supposed to be out having fun, dancing and drinking, but you can think of nothing else than leaving this place and going to his, only so you can slip back into that familiar embrace where you belong, only so you can feel his calloused hands grab your hips as he drags you down onto his—

“Who is he?” You look up to find your best friend staring at you with a knowing smirk. Hannah awaits an answer, quite a few more drinks in than you. She is dressed as a Poison Ivy, complete with green painted skin (which has been smudged off on every surface she’s touched) and her red hair decorated with plastic leaves she has cut off from a fake plant.

“What are you talking about?” You ask innocently but you betray yourself by not being able to maintain eye contact with her. Your cheeks are warm but if she asks, you’ll say it is due to the alcohol.

“You’re staring off again,” she notes and her eyes grow more devious. She points the straw from her drink at you and tiny splashes of homemade daiquiri fly in your direction, “I didn’t fly home and go to this party with you to not hear about who you are having sex with.”

“Who says I am having sex?” You ask with comical indifference which accidentally reveals you in your lie. You rub off a spot of red liquid from your arm, “I’m not.”

“Please,” she dismisses your statement by waving a hand and moving closer to you on the couch. She talks loudly over the music, “You’re either getting continuously laid by some great secret boyfriend or I need to take notice of your skincare routine since you’re practically glowing.”

“Hey, keep it down. I don’t need anyone but you to know,” you shush her with a finger pressed to your lips. There’s no way you’re telling her that your secret boyfriend is Joel Miller… but right now, with alcohol in your bloodstream, it is tempting to let someone else in on the secret that’s been eating at you since June. Perhaps even to brag a little bit.

“You’re acting like seeing a guy is some forbidden romance,” Hannah sighs dramatically but when you smile and shrug, she narrows her eyes just a second before they go wide, “Wait, it is?”

“It’s a secret… because he’s a lot older,” you lean in to make the conversation more private, taking Hannah’s drink out of her hand in case the excitement that looms underneath her surface will make her spill the red liquid onto you.

Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her skull, “Like how much older are we talking? Silver fox?”

“Old enough to remember dial-up internet and hate my music?” You test the waters and watch her process your words, not sure if her reaction is going to be one of shock or enthusiasm. However, with the amount of questionable things Hannah has gotten herself into over the years, you are more certain that it’ll be the latter. One can never know though. After all, right now you are keeping out the earth-shaking detail that the guy you give your nights to is your father’s very best friend.

A satisfied smile spreads on her face, slowly because she’s intoxicated, “So you’re telling me that you - the girl with a history of pissant boyfriends - have a mature, well-seasoned man in your grasp?”

You giggle, happiness bubbling up at Hannah’s silly wording but your heartbeat thrums underneath your ribs because how Joel makes you feel is nowhere near previous flirtations; it’s intense, it’s all-consuming, and has you tossing and turning whenever. You can feel your cheeks ache from smiling. With a groan, you lean forward to bump your forehead against her shoulder.

You earn an embrace in return, squeezed by the arm around your shoulder, “Or maybe he has you in his grasp?”

“I think it’s serious, Hannah, I love him,” you whisper in the crook of her neck just loud enough for her to hear you over the noise around you. There’s a gentle vulnerability in being nearly four drinks in and confessing your love - even if it’s words tumbling out of your mouth - for a boy to your person, the one who came through and gave you her approval without hesitation despite the scandal.

Hannah pulls back a little, excitement on her face instead of shock. She has always had a tendency to live vicariously through you whenever something exciting happens, and it comes across when she urges you away, “Then what are you doing sitting here with me?”

“Uhh, spending time with my best friend?” You straighten and raise a brow, stifling a grin.

She rolls her eyes playfully, “We’ve known each other since middle school. I’m sure I can survive a night without you if it means you getting with your mystery man. He’s apparently the love of your life judging by the amount of smiling you’ve done since we started talking about him. Who is it anyway?”

From her tone, you can hear she tries to sound nonchalant about the question at the end. However, the relief of talking to her about your affair with someone off-limits makes you a little too bold, too nonchalant yourself.

“I am seriously putting my life on the line here, so you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you stress, leaning in as far as you can while still looking at her. Your heart races in your chest, your eyes locked onto her widened ones.

“Of course, of course! Cross my heart and all that,” Hannah sits up a little, almost imitating the way a cat’s ears perk up, “Spill!”

“Joel Miller,” you confess to your sins but much to your surprise, you don’t burst into flames and there is no sound of a record scratch before everyone looks at you in horror. In fact, it feels surprisingly easy and light to tell her.

Hannah processes the name for a moment before her eyes widen just the tiniest bit more, “Wait what?! Joel Miller as in your dad’s buddy?!”

��Keep it down,” you hiss and shush, “I think someone upstairs didn’t hear you.”

“Sorry,” she is flustered, lowering her voice theatrically, “But this is huge. I mean… Does your dad know?”

You furrow your brow, “Of course, he doesn’t. He’d murder Joel if he found out. Lifetime imprisonment because of manslaughter style.”

Hannah nods in understanding. However, she still seems deep in thought, “But how does that even happen? You’re like… seriously off-limits, aren’t you? That’s bro-code even for boomers.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you recall, your voice taking on a dreamy note, “Just kinda happened. I was having a really difficult time at college and he just— he told me all the right things, then one thing led to another… He makes me feel things that I didn’t even know I needed. I know it’s wrong but—“

“Wrong? You’re a grown woman,” Hannah tuts, “Go see him. What’s the worst thing that could happen? That you probably end up having mind-blowing sex with an experienced man?”

“You’re really sure it’s okay?” You ask but you are already getting out of your seat next to her. You start absentmindedly fixing your clothes to make sure you look like something out of Joel’s deepest fantasy, straightening out a squashed fairy wing and curling your hair around a finger to make it bounce into place.

“Jesus, look at you,” she laughs at the way you fuss, “It would be classified as torture if I didn’t let you go, so go! See your silver fox, but just text me when you’re there.”

“I will, thank you, Hannah,” you beam.

You leave her with giddiness and make excuses to your other friends about a ‘family thing’ when they appear bummed out that you are heading home. The air outside in Texas is still hot in October but you can’t feel warm without Joel’s arms around you.

You're so sure that your heart says his name as it beats in your chest when you leave for him.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

—

You stand by his front door not half an hour later, having checked that your parents’ car is not parked in his driveway. The house is quiet except for the soft glow of the floor lamp in his living room and the TV’s light flickering through the curtains. You take it as evidence that he is still awake.

Just before you knock, you shoot Hannah a text, telling her that you’re here with five exclamation points and she types a barely coherent message back at you. She also wishes you good luck which you know you won’t need because the man opening his front door is so whipped for you.

Joel says your name in surprise, quickly checking to see if anyone is watching as you twirl on his doorstep in your little green dress. The booze in your blood is making you more courageous than normal even if you aren’t anywhere near plastered. You step inside his house without permission but he doesn’t seem bothered as you saunter into his living room, your heels clicking as you step over the doorstep. He has turned off the TV, almost as if he knew that it was you behind his front door and therefore there would be no more time for lounging.

“How much has Tink had to drink tonight?” He asks when closing the door. You don’t give him much time to do anything else as you enter his personal space again, caging him hungrily against the door to kiss him with all the heat in your body.

“Not nearly enough for you to stop touching her, Peter,” you let him know as you take a quick breath, too excited for what he can give you if he allows himself remember to inhale through your nose. You rush back into making out with him but he holds you just out of reach, fingers digging into your shoulders.

“Peter? I don’t think so, Tink,” he grumbles, large hands sliding down the length of your arms until he can rest them on your hips. His touch makes your cunt clench, desire stirring even further inside of you as you make a mess in your panties.

“But…” You press your thighs together without any shame.

Joel holds your waist firmly but then goes further down to cup the tops of your thighs underneath the satin skirt. His hands squeeze obscenely, denting your jiggling skin while his eyes have gone dark to indicate his lust. His fingers are calloused and warm as they graze upon where your panties hug your ass, “Peter ain’t never had the guts to get his hands on Tinkerbell like this. Lemme show ya what a man does to his own, personal little fae.”

He then drags your body against himself to let you feel every inch of him, the outline of his already hardening cock underneath his usual jeans. There’s no way he fucked you silly just a few days ago because your pussy reacts like it’s been craving him for days.

“This is what good fairies get stuffed with. If they can handle the stretch,” he chuckles darkly. You moan longingly, brows furrowing to make you look slightly dumb as you suddenly become aware of how empty you feel, how much you need him to fill you out and stretch you to the brim. You had marched over here to be alluring to the point of control over him but he touches you and your mind blanks. He won’t fuck you here, told you last time that he prefers his bed so he can take his time.

“Bedroom. Now, please,” you whine pathetically and reluctantly take a step back. He nods, allowing you to lead him upstairs. You take his hand before it falls to his side from your hip, dragging him through the house and earning a smack to your ass with the hand you aren’t holding. You yelp a little, gush a little more.

By the time you reach his bed, your head is spinning with how horny you are and your belly is swirling with heat. You drop down onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress and he stands between your legs with delicious authority.

“Lay back and let Daddy take care of his baby,” he commands but his voice is somehow both soft, harsh, and dirty. He watches you lower yourself onto your back, the glittering wings of your costume spread out beneath you and fluttering slightly as you wiggle your hips when tugging up your dress.

Joel smiles with pride. He lays a warm hand on your knee, slowly gliding it up until his palm rests against your core, and touches you carefully through the fabric.

“You gotta tell me somethin’,” he whispers with his eyes focused on yours, not needing to see what he is doing because he knows your body so well. He feels how damp your underwear has become, the sensation pulling a low moan from the back of his throat. You nod, words embarrassingly failing you when you are so overcome by your body’s need to have him where you need him the most. However, he is expertly avoiding your clit for now, clearly wanting to get his sentence out before your attention is lost.

“A little birdie told me that when a man keeps his fae excited and happy, she produces a little extra magic down there, sparklin’ so prettily for him,” he tightens his grip between your legs when your hips start moving on their own accord. He holds you down, rubbing you closer to properly now but it’s still not enough to build anything to a crescendo. However, there’s an urgency to the way he touches you, a mix of frustration and relief now that you’re back here with him,

“Only for those who know how to bring it out of her,” you finally manage a coherent sentence, a teasing one even, but your breath stutters through it. Your clit pulses in time with your heartbeat by now and as if he has heard your prayers, his thumb finally presses down on the hard little nub before going in mind-altering circles.

“Then I just gotta make sure I show ya that I am the only one who can make enough magic spill from you to light up this whole damn house,” he growls, using his fingers expertly until you are on the brink of coming, “And every bit of that magic, honey? It’s mine. I ain’t stoppin’ until you’re glowing, little fae.”

You come so hard that your mind blocks out all other senses for a split second, your pussy going off into spasms that have you arching your back like you might actually float off the bed. You whimper at the oversensitivity that he teases out of you with featherlight touches.

He pushes your pelvis down when it lifts itself up and snaps without anger in his voice. Instead, his voice is laced with lust, an octave deeper and threatening, “No moving away or I’ll pluck your pretty little wings off.”

The threat makes you moan, eyes widening as you stare at his face like a trapped animal. You can see how much Joel’s eyes darken at your reaction, unable to understand how he hasn’t ripped your panties yet to screw your brains out.

“Wouldn’t want that, would ya? Unable to fly away?” He smirks deviously and draws back to undo your golden stilettos, his hand that isn’t working the lock holding your calf firmly. He presses kisses to your ankle too and is so delicate with your shoes even as he drops them onto the floor.

“No,” you whimper and shake your head. You can’t bear telling him the truth which is that you want nothing more than being a wingless little fae, completely at his mercy. You imagine being tied to the bed with nothing to keep him from using you how he pleases and your chest feels alight.

Teasingly, you slide your foot up along his arm until you can rest it comfortably on his shoulder. He allows it and turns his head to kiss just below your ankle in response.

“Then be a good girl and stay right where Daddy put you,” he rasps, letting his strong hands glide up the length of your legs. He squeezes your thighs gently as he passes over them, a part of your body that he would categorize as his favorite if you asked him to choose. When he inches his fingertips up under your skirt, the anticipation in the air nearly makes your body want to crawl away because what you will get from him will be too much. You shiver when he starts tugging your panties down, the white lace impossibly damp right at where your pussy has sat.

When he drags them all the way off, lifting the leg on his shoulder briefly, his eyes settle right between your thighs. You clench involuntarily at being watched, slick dripping onto his bed sheets as you pulse for his gaze. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips as he stares without shame, taking in every inch of you as you are laid bare for him. The sight of the heat he’ll slide into has his jaw tightening, his breathing growing irregular. When he is satisfied with his inspection, his eyes lift and he gives you a look that could melt you right into the bed.

“Look at this little pussy. It’s glistenin’ f’me, the magic’s pouring from it,” he says while he slides his fingers through your folds with slow and tantalizing strokes, the leftovers of your last orgasm still lingering as he taps your clit and causes you to squeak.

“Yeah? Does it look pretty for you?” You ask deliriously and catch your bottom lip between your teeth to whine, lifting your hips up despite the rules and basically presenting your cunt like a gift.

“So goddamn pretty, little fae. Do you want me to touch it properly this time? Inside to make those wings flutter?“ Joel’s threat is apparently less serious now that he’s got a glimpse between your legs. He turns his wrist so he can hook his fingers upward, rubbing your cunt teasingly around where you want him to sink into. He enters you to the first knuckle, applying the slightest pressure inside of you, only to draw back and make you lose your mind.

“You’re teasing me,” you state the obvious, breathless and squirming underneath his ministrations. You push your hips to meet his hand, “Please, Daddy, I need it so badly. Don’t you wanna slip inside and feel how tight I am?”

“Then spread those legs for me,” he orders you in a gruff voice, clearly affected by your words. He reaches with his free hand to lift your leg off his shoulder and plants your foot firmly on the bed. You mirror it with your other leg until you can let both of them fall out to the sides.

“You want me to get a towel, baby? We haven’t done that in a while,” he smirks at you knowingly, a certain glint in his eye as he asks. You know exactly what he is referring to and he chuckles when you answer by nodding eagerly with wide eyes, looking like a kid in a candy store being offered their favorite sweet.

“That’s my girl, so eager to feel good,” he praises with a warm smile and rises from his position. He peels off his t-shirt, throwing it in your face - a fairly new habit of his - so you can drown in his smell before exiting the room to head for the bathroom, stepping out of his jeans on the way there. You curl your fingers into the fabric, bringing it to your nose to inhale deeply. Joel’s shirt smells of cotton and faded aftershave, mixed with something unmistakably him; a hint of sweat from being in the Texas sun, his wood-scented deodorant that still lingers. It’s enough to make you even wetter.

He comes back a moment later, towel in hand. He watches you clutching his shirt, having smeared the golden glitter on your face onto it, your pretty eyes nearly rolling back and your hips wiggling to no avail.

“Ain’t you worked up, sweetheart? I’ve barely gotten started with you. Are all faes so greedy between their legs?” He taunts as he slides the towel beneath your hips, flattening it out neatly while you hold your breath in his proximity. He yanks the shirt out of your grip and stares down at you. Your costume is so messy by now, the green dress sitting around your hips to obscenely make you look like a thing used for shoving one’s dick in, and the translucent wings are slightly crumpled by your impatient wiggling around, your cunt’s search for pleasure.

“Please, Daddy, need you to make me come,” you whimper and earn a look of pity. Joel moves to kneel on the floor by the bed, leaning over the edge of the bed until his upper body is between your thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his ring- and middle finger into you, rewarding your desperation by curling his digits upward just in the right way.

“Oh,” you let out a slow, breathy moan when he finds the right spot inside you in just a few seconds, the one that has a direct line to your clit. Joel smiles at his immediate success, watching you with the pride of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing in his quest to undo you.

“Right there, huh? God, you’re so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs lowly, his tone affectionate and aroused. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his index finger and pinky brush your ass and then makes a come-hither motion inside of you. You can feel a lump form in your throat, the flesh of your ass and thighs jiggling from the effort he puts into fucking you with his thick digits.

“You’re so good at that, mmm… Daddy,” you only just manage to say before you choke on a whine as he creates electricity within you, your voice breaking and trembling with desperation. You are well aware of how pathetic you sound, how needy, but you don’t care because you can feel the tension building with each stroke inside of you. With his thumb, he reaches out and swirls it around your clit, and you know he can feel how hard it has gotten in its aroused state; a little bump underneath the tip of his finger. It is so sensitive now too, making you wetter with each little push against it.

You throw your head back and draw in a desperate breath, wanting so badly to swear at the sensation of him fucking you open like he has been thinking about it all day. Yet it doesn’t feel worth it to break the rules of using foul language, resulting in having him halt his doings. Instead, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth and reach for your chest to relieve some of the tension in your body.

You cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them to add another dimension to the way Joel is touching you. He swears below you at the way you clench around his fingers when you catch your nipples between two fingers, tugging to intensify the sensation between your thighs.

“You are so sexy like that, Tink,” Joel murmurs softly in praise. He leans down to kiss your belly, kiss your inner thigh, and all the way up to your knee too. He keeps the relentless rhythm of his fingers but then also rests his free hand on your stomach just below your belly button, knowing that this is how he made you squirt the first time. He pushes down on your belly to add that final touch, and it is almost too much, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

Your legs start to tremble in Joel’s peripheral vision, in need of being held down by Joel’s strong arm so he doesn’t lose his grip on the intense orgasm he has built up inside of you. Your eyes start to roll back and a high-pitched whimper escapes you as he has you teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are so goddamn close, ain’t you? Glowin’ f’me so prettily. Come on, come for Daddy, baby. He put in so much work,” he talks you over the edge in the next moment, holding your cunt in an iron grip as you suddenly clamp down on his digits and start shuddering violently. He keeps his fingers inside of you, pressing them firmly against your g-spot while simultaneously rubbing your clit in taught little circles. It makes you gush all over his hand, soaking the towel beneath you as wave after wave comes crashing.

You have been vocal throughout the whole thing, sure, but it is nothing compared to your cries right now as relieving pleasure wracks through your lower body and makes you sob.

“God, you make Daddy so hard,” you hear Joel say but there’s a fog wrapped around your mind like a woolen blanket. When you feel yourself gushing again, it’s so intense that tears are spilling down your cheeks and the fabric of your dress clings to your sweat-slicked body. You feel slightly claustrophobic in the moment but you have no control of your body, so you let Joel’s soothing words guide you through an orgasm that’ll be worth bragging about to Hannah.

When it finally ebbs out, Joel eases his fingers out and makes you mewl. He wipes his hand on the towel and then soothingly strokes along your thighs as you try to relish in your post-orgasmic bliss.

However, you start tugging on your dress instead, desperately trying to escape its confines while you pant in the aftermath. You are still so fucked out that it doesn’t come off during your attempt, your hands shaking and a whine making Joel gently chuckle.

“Stop, stop, lemme help you,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, taking your wrists in his hands to stop your desperate effort. You let out a soft plea for him, pouting for show as you follow orders and he guides you to sit, slow as he moves you in case your head is still woozy. He reaches behind you and up under the fairy wings to undo the zipper of the green dress, pausing for a moment before deciding to tug the fabric downward instead of up over your head. The garment slips down until it sits around your waist. He pushes you down onto your back again so he can ease it past your hips and off your legs.

He stands there for a moment more before tugging his underwear down his legs, quickly kicking them to the side, and then he just stares. You feel cherished by him when he touches you but it’s different when he just looks; you feel sexy underneath his gaze. You know you’re a sight to behold when he swallows thickly, a disheveled little naked fae with her wings bent from how well she’s been fucked.

Finally, he crawls on top of you. He presses close to you, pulling your leg over his waist as he catches your mouth in a long, drawn-out kiss that perfectly displays the affection and hunger within him. You kiss him back, sighing softly into his mouth and reaching up to run your hands over his broad shoulders, eventually settling them on the back of his head. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug him back to your mouth each time he needs a breath, whispering to him during the mere seconds you are without each other.

“Need you, baby,” you pant softly, lips sensitive from kissing so feverishly until your body feels ready for more without the risk of combusting on the sheets. Joel’s cock is hard against your thigh, and he can’t stop murmuring half sentences as he crashes his crotch into your hip with a low moan while telling you just how good it will feel to be inside you.

“Yeah? This little pussy needs to get fucked?” He cups your face and dives into your mouth anew.

“Yeah,” you moan breathily with a nod, brushing your tongues together in the new filthy kiss, “Need you to make me your little fucktoy, Daddy. That’s all I’m good for.”

“That’s right, Tink,” he growls, his eyes having darkened at your obscene words. With a hint of reluctance, he pulls away from you so he can flip you onto your stomach. With a firm grip on your hips, he helps you up onto your hands and knees.

It’s a struggle to hold yourself up but you stiffen, quickly finding your bearings, as Joel raises his hand a little in the air before giving you a firm smack on your ass. The sting makes you gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets below you. He soothes the pain, speaking as someone put together even if his ragged breathing gives him away, “Who do ya belong to, little fae?”

“Y-you,” you stammer, your voice wavering but still holding a tinge of eagerness. He smacks you again, this time harder so the sound bounces off the walls.

“And who am I?” He demands, not satisfied with your simple answer.

“Daddy,” you plead with a feeble cry, clenching around nothing and feeling a bead of slick drip from your clit.

“That’s right,” he gruffs. Even though it is unnecessary with how soaked you are from your arousal and Joel’s impressive generosity tonight, he still spits into his hand and coats his thick length in it. He aligns with your dripping slit and breaches you with the tip of his cock.

A whimper tumbles from your mouth and he shushes you gently. He is so big inside of you that everything hurts just enough to make you whine feebly but at the same time, he feels just right inside you as he slips in right to the hilt. There’s a looming yet exciting danger of him being in complete control in this position but he is so careful with you as he starts fucking you. Well, as careful as a man can be when he gets to be balls-deep in Tinkerbell.

You groan at the feeling of him having his way with you. He has reached the point where he has little patience left from putting his own needs aside for too long, longing to use you to spill into. You are overstimulated by the two highs he has already pulled from you. It intensifies the sensation of him effortlessly slipping in and out of your slick cunt, so much so that you don’t last long in this position and end up with your face in the mattress.

“Ah–... ah,” you squeak each time he bottoms out, mercilessly letting you feel the depth of each stroke and keeping you panting under his weight, almost dizzy with how hard he is inside your soft heat.

“You like that?” He presses you down further into the mattress by planting his hand firmly on the back of your neck as a clear, dominant gesture that holds you in place for him to drive into you even harder.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Daddy," you manage to gasp out, your words muffled by the bedding as your body shudders under the force of his thrusts. Each of your words stutters along with your breathing, each movement of his harsh rhythm makes his hips crash into your ass.

Joel's grip on the back of your neck tightens just a little, his breaths coming out in shallow pants while a growl leaves him, “Just fuckin’ take it, baby. You can do it.”

“You feel so fu—“ you catch yourself in your delirious state of mind, yet again not about to be punished for breaking the rule of swearing. That’s only allowed by the real grownups, so you swallow around a little gasp and pretend like it almost didn't happen, “You feel so good, Daddy.”

Suddenly, he rakes his hand down your spine, through the sweat that is beading there and grabs your hips. He drags you onto your hands and knees, your tits bouncing as he knocks all wind out of you when he begins thrusting again.

You make a noise in the very back of your throat, a sudden surge of pleasure through your body at the new angle making you realize how close you are again. You are sweating, you are crying with actual tears spilling down your cheeks, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, and God, you just need a little help getting there.

“Harder,” you plead pathetically, craving his cock right against the spot inside of you that he might as well label as his own, “Please, I can take it, Daddy.”

It is the truth; you’re practically molded into a sheath for his cock only from how many times he has fucked you since the beginning of the summer. However, at the same time, it feels like you can barely take anymore he has to give, so stuffed that you think you’re about to lose control.

“Shh,” he soothes your sobs, voice softening in beautiful contrast to his relentless pace, “Daddy’s got ya. Daddy’s happy to give you - shit, baby - to give you whatcha need.”

“Ah!” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the pleasure right around the corner. It makes you able to hear how the bed is squeaking, how the headboard is continuously slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna come on it?” You hear him behind you and in response, you nod frantically when no intelligible words come out. He splays a hand on your back and gives you his all to get you there, “God, I love to see you act like a cockdrunk little fae.”

“Mhm!” Your cries turn to high-pitched keens as your orgasm catches up with you and hits you like a bolt of lightning. You are done for, trembling through the strong pulses between your legs as you come hard enough to wipe your mind. Behind you, Joel groans as your walls try to trap his cock in a grip that has him faltering just for a moment. However, he quickly regains his momentum so he can fuck you through each overwhelming wave.

“Well done, baby. Good girl comin’ on my cock,” he praises through gritted teeth and you can imagine the slightly angry face he has on as he feels his own climax speed towards him, “Daddy’s gonna fill you up right now.”

“Really?” You ask dreamily with your eyes closed in the middle of your afterglow, a dazed smile on your face. Bliss is not the right word, too much mind-numbing and brain-quietening exhaustion following it. Behind you, Joel is still pounding into your squelching cunt but you can do nothing more than giggle happily in between sweet moans whenever he hits something just right.

The giggles cause you to tighten around his girth, squeezing him just enough for him to swear loudly at the exquisite feeling your body wrapped around him. He lets go because he can’t hold back anymore, coming inside of your pussy with controlled, hard thrusts that wipe the little smile off your face because air gets knocked out of you.

“Yes, please gimme your come, Daddy, please give it to me,” you urge him and furrow your brows, practically drooling down onto the sheets as he abuses your pussy in his blissful state. He is so deep inside of you as he spurts, coating your velvety walls in his thick and generous load. It feels so fucking good. Nothing like anything a good little fairy would ever do. You even start thanking him, panting as you say the words over and over again.

“Christ, baby,” he moans behind you, “So goddamn dirty for Daddy.”

You whimper when he leaves you empty a moment later, causing you to collapse onto your front with your hands resting underneath your cheek and your fingers curling into the sheets. You want to bite into the bed, your head swimming with how good and fucked out you feel.

Joel moves to lie down next to you, his body halfway on its side so he can kiss your sweat-glistening shoulder. He moves upwards when you shiver at the first touch of his lips, dragging his mouth up to your warm cheek. He plants a kiss right by the corner of your mouth, and you absentmindedly reach out to stroke along his jaw.

“That was so good,” you say with a tiny moan.

“You are so perfect,” he praises lovingly. He moves to lie down on top of your limp body, crushing you so heavenly with his weight as his chest sticks to your back. The wings of your costume crumble, flattening from being squashed. His arms envelop you and a large hand brushes a bit of loose hair away from your neck. He dips down to kiss just below the base of your skull and you find yourself automatically stretching your neck for even more. He showers you in kisses, lips trailing up and down your throat until you feel a burning need to breathe him in further, to be even closer.

You whine like a child, wiggling underneath the weight of him until he shifts to lie beside you again. He drags you close to his warm chest, planting a broad palm on your back and you respond by scooting forward to climb even further into his arms. Frustration bubbles up in your chest because it doesn’t feel like he is close enough, not even when you whimper and bury your face in the crook of his warm neck. He chuckles affectionately above you, cradling you like you are the most precious thing he owns, and rests his lips on your disheveled hair.

“Joel…” You whisper and try to tug at him even more, your arms going under his so you can be flush against him and mold together with his much stronger embrace. You grab at his shoulders, had no idea that there could be such a loud and powerful yearning in your chest for someone you already have.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer. You feel his hand move gently along your naked back, trying to soothe you as you continuously try to shift yourself even closer in his arms though you’re already as close as you can get.

“It’s not close enough,” you complain feebly and shift once more, a bit of embarrassment flowing through you at how needy you come off. It’s rare that you feel like this but the conversation you had with Hannah earlier has your head in a lovesick spin. The need for Joel is unmatched by anything you have ever felt because this state of mind isn’t fuelled by desire anymore - you have already gotten that out of your system - but rather an all-consuming need for love.

Joel shushes you gently when you whine once more and squeezes you tightly to relieve your discontent, coaxing your impatient and restless body to calm down. He talks gently and says your name, his voice reverberating through his chest, “Look at me.”

You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, and he smiles one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. He whispers, “I love you.”

And then he reaches up slowly to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He dips down to kiss you softly on the lips, grounding you further and making your mind go quiet. It’s not rushed, not as passionate as the kisses you’ve shared just moments before but it’s sweeter than honey.

As you let your guard down fully with a mind completely blank, a sentence slips from your mouth without a second thought. It’s not something you planned to say but you have no control over your actions when he kisses you like that.

“Guess what?” You giggle, lost in his eyes.

“What, babydoll?” He smiles down at you.

“I told Hannah about us,” you confess, another wave of giddiness washing over you at the excitement.

However, it quickly passes over you as Joel’s face shifts to an expression of something concerned, tingeing on angry but mostly just unpleasant. Immediately, his jaw tightens, “You did what?”

Your face drops along with your stomach. You try to find the words to calm him but when you open your mouth there are no words that fit. His stare is so intense, laced with frustration and paranoia that makes your throat start tingling with tears.

“Joel—“ you croak when he pulls back a little, the distance between you feeling unnaturally cold.

“Do you have any idea what could possibly happen if she lets this slip?” He doesn’t look at you, rolling onto his back to rest the back of his thumbs against his forehead, “You should have talked to me about this first.”

“Joel, she would never— I trust her!“ You insist but you mostly just hear yourself sounding like a child. You want to defend your choice even further but he is already interrupting you with a dangerous chuckle.

“That’s not the damn point, honey. People talk, people slip up. You think we’re goin’ to be in the shadows for much longer now?” He sits up, hands on his bent knees.

“You’re acting insane,” you say bitterly and sit up as well, anger bubbling up in your own chest at his condescending tone and suddenly, you find yourself fighting his lecture. You bite back, “It’s not that big a deal. It’s not fun for me to hide all the time because you’re scared.”

“No, don’t you dare twist this ‘round on me when you are out there runnin' your mouth,” he growls, making you flinch when his voice is louder than you have ever heard it before, “I - opposed to you - am tryna protect what we have.”

You can hear your pulse in your ears, “You know what? Stop pretending like this is for my own good when it feels like you are just protecting yourself. Actually, maybe you should ask yourself if this is what you really want.”

Joel scoffs, suddenly hauntingly calm in his tone once more and you miss the warm tinge that his voice always has when he speaks to you, “Maybe I am some kind of fool for thinkin’ we could ever work. Maybe if we were closer in age, it’d be easier. Maybe if I didn’t have a past with your family, and I hadn’t known you since you were a kid then this wouldn’t feel so goddamn wrong.”

The words hit like a punch. Your anger mingles with hurt. It doesn’t feel fair to attack your age like he is because you cannot change it, and that’s the worst part of it. In a feeble attempt to defend yourself, you go for the killing blow.

“You think you’re the fool here? I let myself fall in love with you,” you falter with a tremble in your voice but then get a hold of yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, “I laughed at your jokes and I let you fuck me because I thought you weren’t going to run the second things got hard. Well congratulations; you got to play self-righteous to make yourself feel better. You are the biggest fucking coward, Miller.”

The second you see the glimpse of hurt in his eye, you regret every syllable yet your stupid pride makes you hold onto the image that you meant every one. You realize your wording, that you have talked about him as if you and him are in the past, and you flex the muscles in your throat to stop yourself from bursting into tears even if your face burns.

“I’ll make it real easy for ya then, sweetheart,” he says coolly, and suddenly, his weight is gone from the mattress and your heart is screaming for him to stay. You watch him move to pick up his clothes and dress quickly, not bothering to fix the way his shirt sits askew on his torso because the determination on his face tells you that he is desperate to leave.

You clutch around your knees when he bolts from the room, listen to the sound of his feet on the stairs as he descends them, and then finally flinch when the front door slams hard enough to make the whole house rattle. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, the air leaving you shakily.

A single tear rolls down your face, followed by another but you swallow down the grief that comes with how final this interaction seems. Something about it tells you that you won’t see him for a while now, and not just because you are going back to school soon.

With shame, you slowly rise off the bed. Your body is sore, sensitive, and aching between your thighs, and you are still covered in evidence from having sex with him. Feeling him on you despite his absence is usually a thing you relish in but in this moment, it just feels like a cruel reminder of what you might not get to have in the future.

You sit down on the toilet to pee, your knees falling inwards and your body sagging from the exhaustion of what you have just been through. The heartache is so raw, sitting tightly in your throat as a lump that you can barely swallow around while you do your business and afterward mechanically take a shower and clean yourself up in front of the sink.

When you reenter the bedroom, it feels like you are an intruder and this is your crime scene. You scan the room for your things but cruelly, your eyes fall on one of Joel’s shirts hanging on the back of the chair at the desk. It is already worn, hasn’t been thrown in the laundry basket yet. Ideally, you shouldn’t walk home in the skimpy outfit you arrived in and so, you’re tempted to put it on - if not only to let his familiar scent envelop you - but you cannot risk it. The last thing you need is to walk into your parents’ house wearing his clothes, walk in with the smell of him lingering on you.

So instead, you slip back into your Tinkerbell costume in the emptiness of Joel’s bedroom, not even the ghost of him lingering, trying not to think about how excited you had been about dressing up for him just a few hours ago.

—

Your father is in the living room when you quietly enter the house again. You try to sneak past him, hoping that the low hum of the TV will distract him from your footsteps, but as you move past the doorway, he catches you off guard.

“You’re home early?” He says but it is a question as well as a statement. He reaches for the remote to turn down the volume but when he sees your face, he furrows his brows and turns off the television altogether.

You force a little smile, “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling it.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, pushing himself to stand in the soft glow of the reading light, “C’mere for a second.”

Reluctantly, you make your way to stand in front of him, your heels clicking on the floorboards. Your shoulders sag as you stop in front of his tall frame, and he studies you for a moment before nudging you with the warmth of his voice, “Did something happen tonight, honey?”

“No,” you say shakily, avoiding his gaze as your throat feels tight, “No, it was a great party but I was just too tired.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly, reaching out to lay his hands on your shoulders. His palms are warm and you’re cold from walking home with a barely dried-off body and no jacket since you bolted out the door. You stare into his eyes, lip trembling as he continues, “I can see you’re not okay. Did something happen?”

You wish that you could say that it is nothing because the reality of it is cruel, ten thousand miles between what he thinks he understands and the truth that you must keep painfully lodged in your chest, taking up too much space for your heart. However, the dam breaks at the gentleness he shows you, the love burning beneath his concern, and suddenly, a sob breaks free.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close with his hand rubbing your back. You know you don’t deserve his reassurance as he coos in your ear, has no clue how complicated things are.

You shake in his embrace, your tears wetting the shoulder of his soft shirt. He kisses your hair affectionately, squeezing you while his protective words rumble in his chest, “Listen to me. I need you to tell me if someone hurt you, okay? I won’t be mad. I just wanna help.”

“It’s not like that,” you reassure him and in response, you can feel him relax a little bit as he holds you, sighing in relief. You sniffle, resting your cheek against his chest, “I just got close to someone and it got complicated. He said some things that— I mean, I did too but it really hurt, Dad.”

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, to care for people who maybe don’t deserve it but don’t let anyone make you feel small,” he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, pauses for a moment before continuing, “If this person don’t treat you right… maybe it’s time to reconsider how much space they take up in your life.”

“Yeah… maybe you’re right, thanks, Dad,” you reply with enough conviction that he gives you a smile, proud to have gotten through to you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the person you are talking about is the only person that you cannot avoid either, the only person who can break both of your hearts.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

836 notes · View notes

selineram3421 · 10 months ago

Text

*stares at phone after watching all of Hazbin Hotel* I gotta try something.

Accidentally In Love

Prologue

Alastor X Exorcist Reader

Warning ⚠

⚠ Fem Reader, mention of cutting wings, mention of abuse, Angel being Angel. ⚠

You had missed your sister Vaggie.

Being the closest to her out of all of your sisters, of course you would be a target.

Adam had used you as a punching bag whenever he could, just to feel better about her betrayal.

Two years went by, you had dealt with all the abuse you could before leaving down to Hell yourself. Feeling broken, you cut off your own wings, tossing them away into a random dumpster.

It was extermination day and you saw all of the chaos you and your sisters had caused. Now you can see why she left.

"Heaven is overrated.", you laughed, wiping away your tears.

"Now that's how you wear a smile!"

Gasping, you went on the defensive, eyes darting everywhere until you spotted a demon in red.

"None of that dear, I am not here to fight."

The demon remained in the shadows but you could see his smile. His eyes glowing red radio dials.

"I'd like to offer shelter and protection."

"What do you want.", you tightened your hold on your spear.

Yes you were in Hell, but even in Heaven there were those who had other intentions behind a smile.

"Nothing too serious.", the demon said. "Just to have you by my side until I say the word for you to leave."

"All the details.", you demanded and pointed your weapon at them. "I'm not stupid."

"And yet here you are standing in Hell."

"By choice!", you scowled.

"Oh? How interesting."

You let out a yelp when something dragged you into the shadows towards the demon. Using your angelic weapon, you stabbed at it and it released you, but it was too late.

You were already in the darkness with them.

"Apologies but I'd like to talk about this elsewhere.", the demon held out their hand to you. "Come and we'll discuss the details."

Looking up at the demon, you saw that he had a strained smile.

"I think you need me more than you let on.", you said but placed your hand on his. "I think I deserve to get more with what you're asking of me."

From then on you stayed with the Radio Demon, Alastor.

Currently he was off on business but when spotting you he had to get closer to the edge. You being someone who might be of use to him in his current predicament.

You pointed out that you didn't need to be around him all the time and put down that you would travel around Hell to find someone.

"And this someone is?"

"None of your business. Your deal is with me."

After a year of searching you found her.

She was with the Princess of Hell and was ok, she even grew her hair out.

You went with the deer demon to the hotel and stayed silent for the most part. Not used to being around so many living demons unless it was to get rid of them.

Alastor had put on a show of being all powerful while you just waited to talk to your sister. After all of the deer's shenanigans, you finally got the time to walk up to her.

"Vaggie?", you spoke up.

She looked surprised and then she frowned.

"What are you doing here!?", she whispered and dragged you away from the others.

After making sure no one else was around, she sighed and looked back to you.

"Explain. NOW."

"I left Heaven.", you stated.

"Well no shit. You're here.", she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm asking why. What happened? Why are you here? With the Radio Demon of all sinners. I'm not going back."

"I'm not here to take you back.", you quickly put a stop to her concerns. "I'm here to stay with you. I-. Heaven..", you looked away and hugged yourself. "You know I was the quiet one.."

Vaggie looked at you worried and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"What did they do to you?", she asked in a hushed tone.

"Adam..our sisters.", you couldn't look her in the eye and stared down at your feet. "Look. I cut my wings to stay here and find you. It wasn't right what they did and I'm not going back to that place.", you said firmly. "It wasn't worth you."

Your sister sighed and pulled you into a hug.

"Let's catch up later.", she said and held your hand, taking you back towards the others. "I want to introduce you to someone special."

"Is it the Princess? I already met her when coming in.", you said.

"I want to introduce you as my family and well..", she stopped just before going into the lobby, looking out and staring at the blonde. "I haven't told her..who-what I am. Please don't mention anything until I have the courage to tell her."

"Vaggie..", you squeezed her hand. "If you really want a good relationship with her then tell her. Sooner than later."

"I know.", she sighed. "I just need a little more time."

You backed more into the shadows after spotting Alastor looking around the room.

"Vaggie. I have to tell you something.", you said and got your sibling's attention. "I made a deal with Alastor, and before you yell. No. Not for my soul.", you said quickly. "I'm just acting like a bodyguard for a bit but he knows what I am."

"What!", she whisper shouted.

You patted her shoulders to calm her down. "I'll make sure he doesn't say a thing."

She looked over to the red dressed demon with a glare before accepting. "Fine. But you better be careful, I don't trust anyone other than Charlie."

"I will.", you smiled. "Now, officially introduce me to the Princess!"

With a roll of her eyes, she smiled back and dragged you over to the heir of Hell.

"Charlie! I have someone you need to meet."

The Princess turned and spotted you both.

"Oh, hello again.", she waved. "I've already met them Vaggie, what do you mean?", she asked.

"Not entirely.", she stood in the middle and let go of your hand. "Charlie, this is my sister.", she gestured to you.

Charlie gasped and held her face in surprise, eyes sparkling wide.

Vaggie said your name and then held the Princess close. "This is my girlfriend."

It was your turn to gasp in surprise.

"You hooked up with the Princess!?", you covered your mouth after noticing how loud you said that. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I mean that in total excitement. I'm happy for you and glad that you're happy."

The spider demon, that was named Angel Dust, got closer to look you up and down.

"Is there something wrong?", you questioned.

"You've got bigger boobs."

You blushed and hid your chest.

"Angel!", your sister whacked the spider.

"Ow! What!? Its true!"

Alastor walked over and also hit the spider. "You don't make such comments on a lady's body."

"I'm just saying they've got a nice rack, they got the betta genes!", the spider said before getting another hit from both of them again. "Ow!"

"Ignore him.", your sister turned you away and guided you towards the stairs. "Let's go find you a room."

You were happy to have found your sister.

Of course Alastor still needed to be kept quiet and you'd have to make sure to go over your deal with him.

Maybe you could persuade him somehow.

This went off the rails a bit but yeah.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

1K notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.

The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.

Everyone but Bucky.

"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.

"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.

"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.

"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.

"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.

"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.

"That's my wife"

The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.

She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.

No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.

"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.

"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.

"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"

"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.

"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.

"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"

"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.

"YOU KNEW?"

"Give it a rest Sam"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"

"Sam"

"YOU KNEW?!"

I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.

2K notes · View notes

soapssuds · 7 months ago

Text

Thinking of a fantasy something au where you go pray to a winged angel statue for guidance, protection, and health for your parents and siblings, but never praying for anything for yourself.

The statue was something you stumbled upon after one long day of work in your parents family owned bakery within the small village you all lived in.

The statue had jagged, broken wings and the head was missing too. Though the statue's hands still held out to anyone and everyone.

Despite the statue being broken, you saw it as a sign that maybe the aeons were listening. Your family and the village keep getting tormented by sickness, taxes, and criminals who come and ransack the place everyone fews months.

It was all getting too much. Medicine was overpriced, traveling merchants were cruel and unjust with their prices, the lord of the land demanded a heavier tax, and the knights never lifted a finger to help.

So you sought an aeon's guidance. You weren't well educated. Reading, writing, and such were far above your knowledge. So learning about the aeons was something you could never delve into. (You did try to teach yourself once, but to no avail it was too difficult. And hiring a tutor would be something you couldn't afford.)

"Please, I may not know your name, nor your blessing, but please help my family and the village."

Nonetheless, your lack of knowledge and there of did not stop you from cleaning the statue, placing small offerings in front it, and praying.

Though, that day had been particularly rough, so after your prayers, you had laid your head at the foot of the statue, your eyes closing as you hugged yourself. You didn't want to go home. Not yet. You knew you wouldn't be able to nap there. And as you dozed off, a figure materialized beside you. Your head being fixed into his lap as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"Silly girl, you don't have to give me gifts to be blessed."

Sunday bent down then and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead as a silent promise that he will start helping you.

The key word there being; you. He could care less about everyone else. Because out of everyone in that village, you were the only one who sought him out. Devotion as such as yours should be blessed, should it not?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #honkai star rail sunday #hsr sunday

731 notes · View notes

tac-the-unseen · 7 months ago

Text

How COD characters react to you admitting you've faked an Orgasm

Angst with minor fluff

Note: There are many reasons someone might fake an orgasm. Someone could not be in the mood anymore, feel uncomfortable in the environment, get tired, and several other reasons. That is what this fic is about, not about 'weak dick game'

Ghost:

•When you dropped that bomb on him he froze. He didn't move, speak, or even blink. He just sat there, staring at you. His mind is racing. He always felt like a Shitty partner and he feels like this proves it.

•Once he found his ability to move he only took a breath. Then after a few seconds took your hand and looked into your eyes. You try to explain your reasoning but he still felt like shit.

•Finally he mutters softly "Why didn't you tell me?" He genuinely feels heart broken that he left you unsatisfied and you didn't voice it to him sooner.

•He sits down and has a long discussion about the why and how. He wants to know how to be a better partner and to make sure you're always comfortable telling him if you need more from him.

Soap:

•He thinks you're joking at first. He makes comments like "yeah right, totally." But once he finds out you're telling him the truth he freaks out.

•He grabs you and and almost crys. He feels like a bad partner and tries to come up with ideas on how to make sure you're alway satisfied with him.

•Sex becomes very different. He's constantly changing positions and asking if he's doing this right. Everytime you two get intimate he seems nervous and tries to solely focus on you.

Price:

•Stunned by the news. He stamers and look embarrassed. He stares at you like you grew wings and flew away. You can tell he's trying to keep his cool but it's not working.

•He buys you multiple gifts ranging from flowers to vibrators. While he does this you notice sex becoming less frequent and when you do have sex he seems less in it.

•When you ask about it he finally breaks down and cries. He says he feels like he can't satisfy you anymore. "What kind of boyfriend/fiance/Husband am I if you have to fake it just so you don't make me feel bad!?" After a talk he kinda gets over it but he doesn't like talking about it.

Alejandro:

•He also thinks your joking at first, but after you tell him you're not lying he stares at you. He starts to curse in both English and Spanish and gets upset. He throws a plate at the wall before slumping on the kitchen counter.

•"Why did you wait to tell me, mi amor!?" He says while not looking at you. When you explain he's quiet. After a while he asks how to make it up to you.

•You bet your ass he's going to pamper and worship you in anyway you please. Makes you promise to tell him and never fake an orgasm again.

Roach:

•He immediately hugged you and nuzzled into your neck. He let's you explain why you faked it and understands that it wasn't his fault. He thanks you for telling him and keeps close to you for the rest of the day.

•The next time you guys had sex he made sure you came several time. He has a little bit of doubt when it comes to his performance but over all just happy you told his so you could work it out together.

Gaz:

•Freezes up and after a minute he's leaves the room to be by himself for a while. He goes over every Sexual encounter he's had with you to try and figure out the when and why.

•Once he thinks he's got it he comes back to talk to you. He wants to know how to make sure you're satisfied. He seems to move on pretty quickly. But everytime you have sex he confirms with you that you at least orgasmed once.

König:

•He stares at you in shock like a deer in headlights before running aways. He hides in his room and has a anxiety attack. He feels like a horrible partner. All that runs through his head is the idea that you're going to leave him for someone that always satisfys you. It shatters his heart to know that he, at some point, neglected your needs.

•Once he calms down a bit he finds you and begs you to let him make it up. "I'll do anything, Schatz! Please I can be better!" You try and comfort him be he won't stop until you tell him what you want and/or need. It doesn't even have to be sexual related, just something to ease his mind.

Rudy:

•Is in denial. He doesn't want to hear it but you notice he takes more time to focus on your pleasure. Or at least, more than before.

•It secretly eats at him for weeks. This has never happened to him before. Then he starts to spiral. What if this wasn't the first time, just the first time someone's told him about it...he dies inside just a little.

Mace:

•He takes a second to soak in that information then he holds you tightly. He kisses you jaw and calmly asks if he can make up for those unsatisfactory nights.

•If/when you agree he gives you the best head of your life. He stays down there for what seems like hours. He checks in on you and apologizes every once in a while.

•After words once you two are ready you guys talk about proper ways you satisfy you and make sure you feel loved.

381 notes · View notes

cambion-companion · 1 year ago

Text

Glimpses (Baldur's Gate 3 x reader)

A collection of x reader snapshots as follows: Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale and Raphael. Part II will have more!

"Careful darling, I bite."

"I don't think most people know what you fully mean by saying that, Astarion." You whispered to the Elven vampire spawn as you made your way to the tavern table, flickering firelight making the bustling atmosphere cozy and warm. "It's hardly an appropriate disclaimer."

Astarion's red eyes flicked over to you, a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. "You sound jealous, my love. Don't be, my fangs are all yours."

"I'm thrilled." You deadpanned, your gaze drifting back to the barmaid Astarion had definitely been flirting with. "Do you chat up everyone or were you just trying to get discounted ale?"

"You are jealous!" Astarion chuckled and you squeaked slightly as he pulled you by the waist to sit next to him. "Now, don't go off in a huff." He leaned in and you smelled his familiar scent of cloves and iron. "

"I'm not going anywhere." Your familiar words caused Astarion to still, his hands softening their teasing grip on your hips.

"Darling..." Astarion murmured. He hesitated and then you felt his soft lips touch your neck, no scrape of his fangs against your skin this time. He buried his nose in your hair, and you heard him inhale deeply.

"Like what you smell?" You teased gently.

"Mmm." Astarion murmured, kissing your neck once more before moved his face away again. "Like wine and death."

Moonlight filtered silver through the latticework windows, turning the stained glass to broken shards of ice against the starry sky. You heard footsteps approaching you, soft upon the deep carpet of the hallway. You turned, your breath catching in your throat as you saw Shadowheart walking to you dressed in a gown that seemed to be made of the shadows themselves, hugging her every curve.

"You look beautiful." You said, the words leaving your lips feeling like they did no justice to how your heart was skipping.

Shadowheart looked uncomfortable, pulling at the edges of the fabric that draped so elegantly over her hips. "I can't remember when I last wore something so impractical." Her green eyes met yours. "But thank you for your sweet candor."

You closed the distance between the two of you and touched her hands, coaxing them away from where she was tugging at the dark dress and pulling her into you. You pressed a kiss to her forehead and brushed your nose against hers, feeling her body begin to relax at the familiar affection.

"We must make our required appearance at this gathering, and then we can slip away." You promised, your hand ghosting up the side of Shadowheart's neck until your fingers tangled in her long thick hair. "Get into something more comfortable."

"Can we indeed?" Her voice lilted, always an edge of playful teasing to her words. "I suppose it'll do."

You pulled her in by the nape of her neck and kissed her plush lips, dragging a small groan from the woman you'd grown to love deeper than the shades of Night Orchid blossoms.

"Now let's go show Faerun how lucky I am to have you at my side."

"She is the most darling little thing I have every laid eyes on." You spoke fervently, but kept your voice soft as you looked down at the winged cat sleeping in your lap.

Gale approached quietly, his smile fond as he looked at the two beings he treasured most in the world. "She's quite taken with you."

"And I with her." You looked up at him and smiled, it was always such a pleasure to hear his voice and share his company.

Gale crouched down beside where you sat with Tara, his hand reached forward and stroked the Tressym's feathers gently and scratched her sleeping head. Tara yawned widely, showing off her sharp white teeth before she tucked her head beneath a wing and went back to sleep.

You pouted a Gale as he continued showering affection his sleeping friend. Gale caught your eye and chuckled. "I'll pet you too, if you ask nicely."

You snorted but your expression softened when you felt Gale tuck his fingers beneath your chin and tilt your face back up to his. He leaned forward and placed a loving kiss on your cheek. He moved his lips to press against the top of your head and lingered there for a moment. "You'll never know how grateful I am for you." His voice was as gentle as Mystra's weave, it carried notes of magic and the promise of safety. "

"I love you too, Gale."

You grumbled in frustration as yet another wooden match broke in your fumbling fingers. "Gods above..." You muttered, yanking another from the box to try again.

"Not quite." A familiar voice said, and you turned to see a well-dressed noble with dark hair and eyes. He gave you a devious smile and clicked his fingers.

A spark of fire, the smell of sulphur, and your campfire burst into flames that quickly took purchase on the sodden logs and warmed your face pleasantly.

"Ah." You grimaced, fighting down the feeling of elation at seeing your favorite cambion. "Raphael...thanks for that."

"You're most welcome." Raphael said dryly as he approached you, glancing over your bedraggled figure. "Did my mouse get caught in the rain?"

You rolled your eyes, smirking at the familiar needling banter between the two of you began. "What does that make you? The cat, making sure its meal is warm and dry?" You grinned at him as he stepped even closer, pushing into your personal space. "A guardian devil as it were."

You felt his hands dig into your waist, the sharpness of his claws growing more apparent as Raphael slowly dropped his human guise. "You should know better by now." He rolled his shoulders, stretching his wings to their full extent, the flames of your campfire dancing wildly in the gust of wind the motion created. Your hand slid up between his shoulder blades, the heady scent of musk and cherries filled your nostrils as you felt his teeth on your neck. The devil's voice sent a vibration to your heart. "The fox, rather...luring you in inch by inch until you belong to me."

#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #raphael x reader #raphael bg3 #astarion #shadowheart #gale bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #fluff

1K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago

Text

“Trust me.”

By the gods, he does. Even when the tell tale cracks of lies web through Tim’s face, even when Dick hears the waver in Tim’s voice, all but indiscernible to those who didn’t know his baby brother like he did, Dick still puts his faith in Tim.

He has no choice. Not when he’s chained to the wall, broken and beaten and bloody. Not when backup is too far away and Bruce and Jason is slumped over unconscious. Not when Tim has to choose between them or himself. Not when Dick knows that that’s never a choice he’ll take for himself.

“Come back soon, baby bird.”

How could he be angry at Tim for lying when Dick is doing the same? How could he be angry that Tim broke free before any of them did and incapacitated the villains on his own when Dick would have done the same if he could? How could Dick be angry- no, he is angry, that Tim chooses to sacrifice himself to save the. Because there is no other way? He would have done the same, if he could.

“Yeah.”

But he couldn’t. And it’ll cost him Tim. Dick doesn’t want to loose another brother.

Tim tips forward into the glowing white portal, and the world flashes white.

Dick doesn’t have a choice.

——

It’s only when he’s Nightwing again, with a Jason that had not died, does he remember.

“Wing?!” Jason catches him as he stumbles. Flamebird. Jason goes by Flamebird. Not Red Hood.

Dick stands, roughly brushing Jason off in a way he’ll have to apologize for later. But right now, the vigilante puts in behind him as he swivels wildly to look for the thing- no, the person that unlocked his memories of Before.

It’s only now, does Dick understand what his heart’s been trying to tell him for years.

It’s only now, does he understand who he’s been missing for, for years.

It’s only when he’s facing the large lenses of a camera in front of pained, longing eyes, does Dick Grayson comprehend what he lost and who gave him everything he has now.

“Baby bird-!” The nickname tears out of him as Nightwing, as Dick, stumbles towards the curled up figure of his baby brother.

“Nightwing, what…?”

“Dick…?” Their stalker, Dick’s baby brother, asks, hope marring his voice.

“Baby bird.” He chants, pulling Timothy Drake into a hug, uncaring of the way the camera digs into him. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

Tim curls into the hug, hands gripping the back of the Nightwing suit.

“You remember…?”

“I missed you. Always. There was something missing and it was you, and you did it- we’re alive-!”

“I told you to trust me.”

And despite the sass, Dick could hear the waver in Tim’s voice. And this time, he’s free to act on it. Dick squeezes his little brother closer.

“I will always trust you, baby bird.”

“Uh. Wing. What the fresh fuck is happening?”

Dick pulls back, ready to cheerfully manhandle Tim into becoming a part of the Bats once more. He’d do something about Tim’s overworking habits, but even Dick knows a loosing battle when he sees one.

“Jay, this is Tim. “

——

“Wait. Someone shot Tarantula. Was that you…?”

“Heh,” Tim grins at him sheepishly behind a Batburger.

#batman #dc #dick Grayson #au tim time travel #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #jason todd #flamebird #nightwing #Tim isn’t a vigilante yet

979 notes · View notes

crowborn666-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Obey Me Brothers React

To you having an period accident

(All those posts I see on the internet of kids not being allowed to use the bathroom at school and having bathroom accidents has my blood boiling so here I am with a comfort rant. Didn’t do all of them as I ran out of ideas, but feel free to input your own for a possible part 2!)

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Platonic/Romantic

You felt like you could burst into tears any moment. The teacher had denied you access to the bathroom, even with your pitiful pleas. And you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape an accident by the time class was over.

~~~~~~

Lucifer

Had come to your classroom to see why you weren’t in your next class already to hear an enraging argument between you and the teacher.

“Why didn’t you just say you had to go?”

“But I did! You said I couldn’t go, and that I’d be disrupting the class!”

The smell of blood told Lucifer all he had to know.

“I don’t need to hear any more to know what’s happened here.” Lucifer spoke lowly, and you both turned to see him with horns and wings on full display, with that very specific disappointed look on his face.

“Lucifer!” The teacher piped up, sweat dripping down his brow. “What brings—”

“Go to Lord Diavolo’s office. Immediately.”

The teacher paled at Lucifer’s aura, and with head dropped slipped past the avatar of pride and down the hall.

Lucifer was immediately at your side, wiping away your tears. He frowned at your embarrassed, flushed face, heart aching at the sound of your quiet cries.

“I’m so sorry this happened.” He murmured, reaching down to wrap you in his arms and wings. “I’ll make sure that teacher is dealt with. Wait here, I’ll go get something to help you.”

“Okay…”

In barely any time at all, Lucifer had brought a towel, clean clothes, and anything else you could need. He hid you with his wings as he walked you to the bathroom, waited patiently while you freshened up, and then walked you hand in hand to your next class.

“Next time just go ahead and go. We’ll deal with the teacher afterwards.”

“Thank you Lucifer.”

“Anything for you, (Y/n).”

Mammon

Mammon glanced over at you confused when he realized you hadn’t gotten up from your seat. Class was over, why weren’t you getting up?

“Oi, (Y/n), what’s the deal?” He called as the teacher slipped past him out the doorway. You glanced back, on the verge of tears and looking practically mortified.

“(Y/n)?”

You broke then, tears falling down your face with a broken sob. Mammon was by your side in an instant, and then the smell of blood hit him.

A glance towards him showed visceral anger on his face, as he looked from you to the doorway.

You doubt he was even aware his demon form was out.

“That damn bastard didn’t let ya go to the bathroom, and now ya can’t…” he was at a loss for words now, so angry and upset for you.

He took a breath, reaching down to brush away your tears. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some help.”

He was out the door then, and in just a few minutes a few female demons you recognized came in. They had a change of clothes for you, paper towels for the stained seat, and all without a word or remark had hurried you to the closest bathroom for you to freshen up.

By the time you were done, Mammon was waiting outside the bathroom with your books in hand. He was no longer in his demon form, and gently took your hand and began leading you to your next class.

“Lucifer and Lord Diavolo are gonna take care of that teacher. You told him what was goin’ on and he ignored you, that ain’t okay.”

“Thank you, Mammon.” You spoke quietly, earning a side hug in response.

“I-It’s nothin’! I wouldn’t be The Great Mammon if I left ya hangin’.”

Satan

Had received a flurry of texts from you as soon as the bell rang, explaining how you needed to go, how you weren’t allowed, and how you were now unable to stand up without a mortifying accident happening.

Cue Satan bursting into the room three minutes later in full demon form, looking ready to kill a man.

“YOU!” Satan roared, probably loud enough for the whole school to hear, “Take your ass the Lord Diavolo’s office before I rip you a new one!”

Needless to say the teacher wasted no time.

The next instant Satan has pulled up a chair and sat in it, reaching out to check you over. You had been crying, left red faced from embarrassment.

“I don’t wanna stand up.” You spoke so pitifully, it made Satan’s heart clench.

“We gotta get you to the bathroom though, c’mon.”

You sniffled and hiccuped, thankful for Satan’s jacket now being carefully tied around your waist to hide the stain.

“You get to the bathroom, I’ll find you new clothes.”

You were ushered to the bathroom swiftly, left to clean up while Satan went to get you new clothing. He came back in record time, and you were thankful for the extra pair of underwear you kept in your bag.

When you emerged, clean and brushing away any lasting tears, Satan linked his arm with yours, guiding you through the hall.

“Thank you, Satan.”

He was quiet, still teeming with anger, as shown by his tight fists at his side and dark eyes, but the hand linked with yours was rubbing gentle shapes into the back of your hand, to reassure you that he was there.

#obey me mammon #obey me #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #satan x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me shall we date

1K notes · View notes

luza-wayne · 11 months ago

Text

calling them with another name

suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, tsukishima kei

cw: accident (it's just kuroo being an idiot)

here's the second part!

suna rintarou

it's the weekend and you decided to spend your time at your boyfriend's house. his family is out of town and he said he's bored.

but part of the reason you went there is to try out the "calling your boyfriend another name prank". you wanted to know how he'll react so you concluded to do this today.

you two are now on the couch watching netflix, while he uses your lap as a pillow. you have been thinking of the right time to carry out the plan, but you can't seem to find it.

“i'm getting hungry.” he muttered out of nowhere.

this it is!

“me too.” you replied to him, putting your hand on your tummy. he noticed that and then he thought of burying his face onto your stomach, and he did.

“what do you want to eat?” he asked, making your tummy feel the vibrations every time he speaks.

“hmmm... i don't kno— ah! how about chicken wings?” your eyes glimmered at your suggestion. he looked up at you and smiled, agreeing with you.

he reached for his phone and started to search for somewhere to order, still laying on your lap.

“ah, also can you order drinks too, kyousuke? oh— mhm.” you 'innocently' asked him, while your eyes are focused on the tv.

the bomb has been planted.

“oka—” he halted his mouth as soon as he reviewed what you just called him.

he raised his eyebrows and furrowed it, giving you a 'what-did-you-just-called-me-?' look.

you bite your lower lips, trying to hold back your laughter as you can feel him staring at you from his position.

when he didn't get a reaction from you, even with that glaring he did. he fixed his form and forcibly made you look into his eyes.

“excuse me, ma'am, but what did you call your boyfriend?” he asked seriously, pressing his palms deeper on your cheeks.

“uh? rin?”

“oh no, that's not what you named me just now. who is this kyousuke bastard? you even realized you said the wrong name.” he said, freeing your face and standing up.

“kyousuke? i don't know anyone named kyousuke. i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said putting up your act.

after you said that, he just sat back on the couch, but now with a grumpy face and mood.

“when's the food coming?” you asked, changing the topic.

“never.” he shortly answered.

“what? why?” you paused the movie and shook his arms playfully.

“i don't know either. why don't you ask the kyousuke guy? maybe he knows why.” he answered, he stretched his arms and turned his back and played something, anything on his phone.

omg, is he mad? damn, he's mad, but...

“bwahahahahaha!” you suddenly burst out laughing while you hit his back. “rin! oh my gosh— hahahaha!” you were completely broken because of his reaction to the prank.

“what is wrong with you? suddenly calling me names and now laughing out of nowhere!” he said removing your hitting hand off of his back.

“oh, rin.” you wiped the tears of laughter in the corner of your eyes and hugged him, taking him by surprise. “my wittle rin is jealous, aren't you?— bwahahahahaha!” you burst out again.

you just can't get your mind off of how cute it was, considering suna rintarou rarely showed emotion on his face.

“it was just a prank, rin. sorry, sorry.” you confessed.

he finally sank in his mind all the videos in tiktok he saw, where they prank their boyfriends and how can he fail to forget that set up?

“i'm never ordering you chicken wings again.” he said suddenly that made you crack up again.

“so, you still ordered it for me, rin.”

suna swears in his mind that he'll get you back. not now, but he definitely will.

kuroo tetsurou

you are the manager of the nekoma boys volleyball club and lately, your boyfriend, the nekoma's captain, kuroo tetsurou has been teasing and getting on your nerves for the last couple of days and you decided to take revenge today. with the help of kenma on what you will do, you two took the idea of calling him by another name.

after changing, you stepped into the court, as usual, kuroo sent a flying kiss to your position as soon as he saw you, but you dodged the air as if you were not accepting it. kuroo knew what he was doing for the past few days, so he was not offended by it, instead, he just laughed his ass off.

right after you filled their water bottles, coach nekomata called in for a ten-minute break. you were distributing it when kenma gave you a sign that right now is the perfect time to commence the plan.

after you gave kenma's bottle, you extended your arms to your boyfriend and he just smiled widely and you're sure he's planning something again, just like how he is doing recently.

he suddenly held you on your wrist and pulled you to his chest, and the reason he keeps on doing this teasing is because of the genuine response he's receiving from you.

“w-what?!” you slapped his arms, even with a blush on your face.

he lifted your chin and angled your face, instinctively you closed your eyes and pooched your lips, but when no contact happened, you opened your eyes and saw him already rolling on the floor.

this jerk... hah! sorry, but i won't let things go your way this time!

“gosh! you keep on teasing me these days, rai! i'll definitely have my revenge soon.” you declared and made your way to pass yaku's water to him.

kuroo blinked once, blinked twice and thrice, but nothing changed. did you just call him 'rai'?

he regained his posture and was about to reach out to you, but the break was already finished.

you clenched your fist, bit your lower lips and even felt your nose enlarging now and then, trying to contain your laughter as you see kuroo keeps glancing at you, every time he can.

wah, this is the best revenge.

“ouch!”

everyone was alerted by the cry and it turned out kuroo was hit by taketora's spike because he was not paying attention. coach nekomata told him to go check it in the clinic and asked you to come with him. you worriedly led him to the infirmary and unfortunately, the nurse was out, so you just decided to wait for them while you try to keep him in the right condition.

“are you worried?” kuroo asked you, while you trace his head if there's any bump.

“of course, i am. are you crazy?” you answered annoyed at his question.

“no, you can't. your boyfriend will get mad.” he said, trying to sound different.

what— ah. he's still there, he seems alright already.

“what are you saying? you're my boyfriend.” you said blanky.

“i am your boyfriend?! sorry, but my name isn't rai! newsflash my girlfriend is cheating on me with a jerk named ra—” you quickly covered his mouth, looked around and at the door.

“idiot! you're too noisy! we're in the infirmary!” he removed your hands from his mouth and pulled you to a hug. a tight one.

okay, now i feel bad.

“i was just trying to prank you, tetsu. you've been under my skin recently and i thought i will get back at you. sorry.” you said stroking his hair. he tightened the hug and you leaned down to kiss his hair.

“okay, cut!” you two flinched when you heard someone clapping and looked behind you. yaku, lev and kenma were there standing at the door.

“you two took so long to come back.” yaku looked so disgusted, lev wondering what the hell is happening and kenma just looking away.

“watching you two being lovey-dovey disgust me from the bottom of my heart,” yaku exclaimed.

“really? didn't know you have a heart, yakkun.” you replied.

“eh? yaku-san, you don't have a heart?” lev asked, intently.

“lev, shut up.” kenma muttered, looking like he'd have enough of lev.

“what do i do? my teammates are jealous of our relationship.” kuroo said and sighed.

“like hell we are!” yaku protests.

tsukishima kei

the finals are coming up and you and your boyfriend, tsukishima kei, decided to study together, so you can ask him if you ever don't understand something. he's fine with it, so now you're in his room holding your notebook with a scowl on your face.

“what's wrong?” tsukishima asks as soon as he looks at your face.

“i don't understand anything at all.” you plopped on the table and buried your face in the book.

“want me to teach you?” he asked as he browsed his notes. you shook your head still on the table.

“no, i need a break.” you said and stood up. you throw yourself on his bed and reach for your phone.

“we just started ten minutes ago, you know?” he smirked as he wrote down pointers for you.

“shut up.” you pouted and tapped on the tiktok icon on your phone.

not even a minute passed, a video played on your fyp and it was about pranking their boyfriends by calling them by a different name. thankfully, you're wearing earphones so, he can't hear what you are watching and chose to do it to your own boyfriend.

you exit the app and place your phone on his nightstand. you sat down again at the table and opposite to him, he raised his eyebrows.

“i thought you were going to take a break from the ten-minute study you did?” he teased you.

“well, i just decided to be a good student starting now, so i'll be doing my best to study.” you stated hiding your dark plan behind the face you're putting up.

after minutes of pretending to study, you took your notes and sat next to him.

“hey,” you started. he looked at you and placed his hand on your hip.

“mhm?” he hummed.

wait, he's being touchy and sweet right now, should i continue or abandon the plan for now? argh! whatever!

“i can't understand this, can you explain this to me, furuya?” you said pointing something in your notebook.

i did it! how will kei react?!

it took a few seconds before tsukishima spoke up.

“first, you need to do this…”

huh? no response? you sighed. i knew it, he wouldn't react to something like that, he probably thought i just called him by another name by mistake.

after he explained what you asked, you just decided to really study now, and an hour passed.

“how about we take a break?” tsukishima suggested. you just nodded, you felt like all your energy was just sucked out of your body. “i'm going to go get refreshments.” he said standing up and walking to the door.

“okay.” you replied, your eyes already gave up.

“just lay down on the bed if you're too tired, i'll be back, akemi.” he said.

you opened your eyes wide and looked at his way hastily.

“kei, what the fuck?!” you cursed, completely shaken.

“huh?” he asked you, even tilting his head.

“who is this akemi girl you just called me?!” you walked to him, your eyebrows furrowing together.

“akemi? who's that? i don't know any akemi.” he answered.

“no, you just called me akemi!” you defended.

“i really don't know, maybe you should ask that furuya guy?” he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the door.

“huh?” furuya? “gosh, kei!” you hit his chest and glared at him.

he laughed looking at you, worried about who the akemi he just called.

“damn you.”

“too bad. i didn't fall into your trap.” he said and walked to the table.

“i'll have my revenge next time, just you wait.” you said, determined that you'll get a reaction from him in the future.

“are you sure you should say that?” he leaned down and grabbed his phone that was placed in the pot.

“what do you mean?” you wondered.

"kei, what the fuck?" "huh?" "who is this akemi girl you just called me?" "akemi? who's th—"

you widened your eyes and your blood rose to your cheeks as you heard your voice.

“kei! delete that!”

hope you liked it!

also, if you'd like to tip me, you can check my ko-fi acc! anything will be a big help!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu headcanons #suna rintarou #suna x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #luza-wayne #luza-wayne works

564 notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 10 months ago

Text

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips.

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness.

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged.

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug.

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help.

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss.

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him.

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian.

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title.

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would.

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes.

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously.

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely.

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded.

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free.

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor.

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised.

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him.

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest.

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob.

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter.

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him.

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him.

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone?

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded.

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him.

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.”

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her.

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid.

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going.

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor.

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul.

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

#acotar #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #high lord eris #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x y/n #eris x you #acotar fanfic

522 notes · View notes

nemesyaaa · 4 months ago

Text

a house in nebraska ! rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary ; you were the reason he won't come home but you still call home. this story is based on the song of ethel cain.

warnings : it's angst. fully angst. it's about toxic relationship. so violence, arguing and fighting, sick behavior, daddy and mommy issues, the urge of love and being loved, mentions of drugs, the feeling of being misunderstood and unsteady. home is used as a metaphor of relationship. it's about inner rage too. slight of smut but very little. both rafe and reader being fucked up. southern goth/small town coded.

author's note : it's my first time writing angst so be easy one me please ! as i said, it's based on " a house in nebraska" by ethel cain (because she's my favorite artist and my muse.) and a lot of her songs make me think of rafe, but i also take inspo of her others songs like crush, strangers, and hard times. also a hint of bet on losing dogs by mitski.

i dont know how many words are in this works, but i think around 3k ? it's a one-shot ! BETTER TO READ IT WHILE LISTENING TO A SAD SONG. (a house in nebraska (live version)or anything else)

you lived in the nebraska with rafe, he was your man and you were his girl. it was a small town that allowed you to be just him and you against the world, to be safe from the rest. but the ugly truth was that your house had become a raging mess. the mattresses had become dirty, the silence too comfortable, the night too long, the emptiness too deep, the love too absent and the violence too present. everyone was angry here, even demons and the silence.

rafe was a storm, and every time you tried to calm it, you became further worse. no, you weren't becoming like him, you were becoming him, the mirror of his emotions, full of rage and inexpressible feelings. like a bomb, you needed it to come out, to scream and explode. like a bomb, you needed to hurt, and destroy everything in your way.

you had built this house together, when he still worked with his hands, oh god, how much you loved those big and strong hands, the dirt and bruises on his skin. the softness of his palms when he touched you, the pulsating veins engraved. they were made to love you, to caging you. they were always rushed with blood and wounds because of his work, but despite how dirty they were when he came home, they were always pure and clean on your body. but you also were so in love with his messy sweaty hair, caressing by the wind. he was tall and handsome, the kind of man who worked all day, and drunk at night, some whiskey or bourbon. but never missed to please the needs of his girl.

when he smoked his red marlboros on the porch, you were sitting on his lap like a sleepy girl to take a nap on his heavy arms that managed to hug your body. when he took a sip of his cold beer, while you had nothing to do but being his own pretty girl. when he allowed you to bathe him, cleaning the mess and the sweat. when you used to learn him how to play some classic music on the old piano, and he was just turned on by the way you used so damn well your fingers, and making you sit on the board, and fuck you right there, even if the windows were wide open.

at this time, you would have die for him.

when he still listened to what you said, when he still answered your calls and did not make you sick by his silence, when you laughed every time he came home . but now you were starting to hate the fact that he was coming.

how did the man who was supposed to make you so happy manage to break you so easily? but you weren't an angel either, oh far from it, you had neither wings nor halo on your head, you didn't even have god in your heart. you made him, like all men, your enemy.

it was four in the morning, it was still dark, you were waiting in the living room.

the tv wasn't on. rafe had broken it during an argument. that wasn’t the only thing he shattered, you had to be the hardest thing he does. not even with his fists, with just the force of his words, the way they were murderous, the way they had the force to tear your heart open and crushed it into pieces.

most people would say that this man was not the type to cry, that a man doesn't cry, but rafe cried. and you had seen him a couple of times, and the first time you saw him burst into tears, you knew straight away that it was the real him. that behind all this hatred, this anger, there was a hurted little boy. and who grew up with an open wound, a wound impossible to heal, even with all the love in the world.

rafe was the kind of man who screamed, who cried, who bled, a fallen angel who had lost god along the way, who had been ignored, but mostly, never heard.

when he opened the door to the house, you hated the strong smell of alcohol, but also of blood. you never asked him for anything, the only thing you wanted was for him to come home on time for dinner, to go to bed with you. but no one, absolutely, no one tamed a dog like him. and you rathered not bet on losing dogs.

“where were you ?? ” you had already started shouting due to lack of patience, getting up from the chair to confront him.

you had seen him sigh, making that bored face, like you had no reason to be upset, that face that made all women become even worse.

“if you had the same energy to scream when we fuck, we would have a fantastic sex life.”

“seriously, rafe? you want to play the asshole, right now ? ”

“ it will suit your bitch behavior, so why not ?”

you slapped him very hard in the face. what obviously rafe didn't find this very amusing, he crushed you in the wall, pinned your hands above your head.

“ don't you dare slapping me again. you want to be mean, sweetheart ? i can be meaner. let's see....oh this is the necklace that your mom offered to you before leaving ? how sweet. maybe, i can sell it for a good price. ”

“ rafe. don't. ”

he shushed you, by putting his other hand on your mouth. “ you're not allowed to talk right now. you had your turn for, now, it's my fucking turn. and i will do whatever the fuck i want ! it's my house, my rules. ”

he unhooked the necklace, as you tried to break away from his grip but he closed his fingers tighter against your wrists.

“I'm going to kill you, no matter what you do, i'm going to kill you. ”

“murder me” he said with a louder voice. “i’m asking you to murder me! it’s probably the only good thing you’ll have done well in your life. you know even if i die tonight, i will die yours. even if you kill me, i will always be here.”

he released you, and you exploded. “you have exceeded the limits, rafe! ”

” since when are there boundaries between us, sugar? we're freaks, remember? ”

you threw away the first object you found, it was an empty coffee cup. you threw it at his face. but he had dodged it with a sick smile. your jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury, you were out of control. you were what he wanted you to be every time he came home late

” oh you can do better than that baby. i'm sure i taught you how to shoot better than this when i showed you how to kill? do you remember? ”

“ this, this fucking attitude, rafe is why everybody leaves you ! ”

“ yes. and do i fucking care, y/n ? do i fucking care ? i grew up in a family where nobody loved me, nobody reached after me, nobody looked after me, nobody dared to pay attention to me and you tell me i have to care about everyone leaving me ? no, it's not fucking fair ! so do you understand ? i don't care. if you want to leave, you know better than me that the door is open because you're the only one to be stucking in front, waiting like a fucking dog that i come come. ”

“ fine. i leave ! ”

you took the keys of the car, even if rafe hated that you drove, especially at midnight. but you were too upset, too mad.

your man wasn't done with you. he stood in front of the car you were driving.

“if you think i'm afraid of killing you, when you were the one who taught me how to do that, you're wrong. ”

" yes ? then show me how well i did my job. kill me. ”

“ rafe, i’m not kidding. ”

“ perfect, we are both serious then. ”

you moved the car forward, pressing the pedal with your feet. you hitted him with the car. it was strong but not violent either.

you got out of the car quickly to check on him. but he was smiling, a little blood on his face.

“are you sick!? ”

“ i raised you well, i fear. now, lick this face. i can see in your eyes how pretty you find me covered with blood, so please yourself, lick it all. ”

“ wait, i will find some tis….”

“ no, with your tongue. clean my whole face with your tongue. don't waste anything. i want to be able to kiss you right after, and recognize the taste of my blood all over your mouth. you want to be sick ? make me feel sick too. ”

maybe you were too young to realize that some loves could be bad. but this relationship was toxic. you had both destroyed each other, and it was complicated when you saw this world, this universe only through your union. you felt like you had lost a lot, like you had lost everything, like you had failed. maybe, you were the failure, and rafe, the problem. but also, maybe, he was the failure and you, the problem.

and you hated not knowing what was going on in rafe's head, you hated that no one on this earth could figure it out, and that even rafe himself didn't know it. he was crazy, he was sick but that wasn't all, it couldn't be just that.

you gave up the fight, going to the bathroom to take a bath. you needed some peace because the house didn't feel like a home anymore.

sometimes wheezie would call you to see if you were okay, she had grown up, and you lied to her all the time. because it hurt so much to be two in a relationship, but not feel like you were a part of it anymore. and the worst part of it all was that you could kill yourself for just one minute of affection, just one second of happiness, just one moment in the past when everything was okay. where rafe was still the sweet little boy you knew. but the stories were not meant to have a happy ending.

it was hard this feeling, this lack when he still lived with you in this terrible house. but one day you'll be the reason he won't come home again. but you would always call home. you promised yourself. because it would always be yours.

rafe had joined you in the bathtub. and you could tell by his red and empty eyes, his blank stare that he had been crying. he cried and he was not the drugs, he was you, only you.

and you didn't mention it. you didn't say anything. you preferred to stay smart and not start another fight.

“the walls could break down with so much screams. ” you said, laughing slightly.

“maybe we should sell the house. ”

“i like this house. i feel at home here. i have nowhere to go. ” you lied for the two first, but not for the last.

and it was true. you had built everything, paved everything here. you had remade a world. you couldn't leave, you couldn't leave anything. and above all, you were too tired to leave.

it would be a lie to say that you didn't had sex in the bathtub, that you didn't feel his tears on your shoulder, that you didn't feel his thrusts get harder each time a sob broke out his empty eyes, that you didn't feel how much he was breaking every time you took pleasure. because, it was hard for him to seeing you being happy. because it was so hard to take care of you. because it was so hard to feel loved and being loved. you were both too young, too stupid, too sick for love.

and rafe wanted to make you happy without sex, without all this selfish sex. no, he wanted to make you happy by some casual things. but sometimes, you pissed him off so bad to the point, he wanted to leave. but how can a man who hoped to be loved can leave the woman who promised to cherish him ? it was too tired, too angry, and too unsteady to leave. you broke him too. and it was sad for him, because you were the only one he was not scared to tell it hurts.

but at six in the morning you were fighting again as if it were a ritual, a need, a desire to destroy each other, as if sometimes love needed to be violent and destructive to work. actually, for freaks like you, surely.

“why did you throw my fucking drugs down the toilet?! ”

“because you don’t need that!” ”

“you don’t know what i need, you barely know what i want! you had no fucking right to do that. ”

“ don't be a crybaby ! ”

“ repeat. i dare you to repeat. ”

“crybaby! you're a fucking crybaby, rafe! your new personality changes nothing about the boy you were and will always be! what, you don't like the truth ? bad for you, i'm about to tell you what everyone doesn't want to tell you. because i'm not scared at all of you ! you're a fucking crybaby ! ”

“ but you're still here, you're still fucking here. because you know what ? i'm maybe a crybaby, but i'm a river worth wading. and this is why, you're standing in front of me with all this confidence. you wanted a broken man, you wanted someone to fix ? then come on baby, i'm here, i'm watching you, i'm listening, i'm literally at your feets, fix me ! fix the little boy you wanted, make him better. ”

“ rafe…”

“no, i'm asking you now who do you think you are? do you think that because you have this attitude, it doesn't make you a little girl who needs her daddy? because damn, yes, you need him. but i fear daddy was the only one who didn't need you because guess what ? he left. and you make all the men leave around you ! but the difference between us is that you care. when i fucking dont care.”

“ you're sick, a sick asshole. and don't touch me ! ” you pushed him away, but he came back, his hand on your throat. “ but you're the sick one who loves me, remember that ?” he answered.

“ but do you think i still love you ? ” you said with a smirk, taking pleasure to see his widen eyes. “ i'm asking you right now, do you think i still love you, and if one day, someone will like you like i do ? it would be so hard for you to find happiness after me, i can promise you this. you will fight a lot. because ? can you see ? can you see i can breathe without you, i can live without you ? but you, can you do this ? yes, you can fight, you can scream and shout but what else ? ”

“ it doesn't hurt, y/n. it doesn't hurt. and you can't break me, as you can't fix me. ”

“ then why are you crying, big boy ? why are those tears for, if not for me ? ”

“ i built a home for you, i did everything for you. ”

“ and then what ? ”

“ don't make me regret it, y/n. don't make me regret the only good thing i've made well in my life, just don't make me regret...this. you don't understand. why did every house i'm in never felt like home ? ”

“ you destroy everything, rafe. but me too, i guess. the difference is that you have an excuse, a reason for being like that. your dad fucked up with you. and i hate him for that. if he had loved you correctly, you would have known and learned how to love people, how to be attached to them. but you don't know any of that, you don't know what it is to love, and to be loved. everything i do for you, you could call it love, even when i'm mean. but it's false, love is tender, it's beautiful. but you know, i think i'm sick because i also like the way you love me, this violence, this rage, this impulsiveness, it drives me crazy but it makes me alive. so, do you think you could do it again? ”

“ why you didn't leave, why you never leave ? ”

“ because it's our house. we're stuck in forever. this is our house in nebraska, our only heaven. now be a good boy and cry a little for me, i think i'm going away a little...” you said, taking him in your arms, your hand placed on his back, and your hand pressed to his cheek. “don’t worry, i cry a lot too. all the time, even when you make me happy. ” you shushed him, bursted in tears in the hug.

you kissed him on the corner of his lips, your mouth meeting his tears, before he joined you in this kiss, you felt his sad and salty tongue against yours, his hands came squeeze your waist.

but now in the present, you were alone. the house still existed but it was just you.

you weren't sleeping anymore, because you kept hoping that he would come home, you were hoping that he would come home late at night.

but you were alone in a dirty and cold mattress. and you prayed for him hoping he was okay. the phone was broken but you were hoping to hear it ring, the door was open and you were waiting for a sign.

nothing was right, everything was wrong. you just wanted to say to rafe that he had you, that he had a house, and his home missed him, like nobody ever does in his life.

you didn't realize that you had been lying all this time, and that you were silently dying. but at least you died, only his.

278 notes · View notes

lunajay33 · 8 months ago

Text

Finding You🩵

Summary: The group has been split up since the prison feel and you’ve been all alone with Judith until you come across a terrible group of men

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: This story might have some uncomfortable parts for some readers, nothing fully happens just some harassment

•Masterlist•

Things were going good, we had our crops and the community was coming together with the people who came from Woodbury but then….the sickness spread through the prison taking out a lot of people thankfully Daryl was smart to keep me away from anyone with signs and then to top it of the governor came back, he came back and killed Hershel right in front of us which broke out into a full battle field

I lost track of where Daryl was, I ran out of the prison with a quick to go bag finding Judith still in her bed, taking some more food for her and I ran out through the opening in the back of the prison

That’s how I got here, wandering the woods hoping just praying to come across anyone from the prison, Maggie Beth Rick anyone, if I ever found Daryl again I’d be the luckiest person on earth but it’s been what feels like two weeks, along the way I found a house got a blanket and tied it around myself making a makeshift baby holder for Judith so she wasn’t as difficult to carry

I was sat on these train tracks feeding Judith a can of peaches when suddenly I was surrounded by a group of dirty men, I held her close to my body scared of what might happen but I’ll be damned if I won’t fight tooth and nail to protect her

“Well well well, look what we got here, sweet lil thing like ya, might have some fun” this one guy with longer dark hair said as he ran his hand across my cheek but I flinched away

“Don’t touch me” I said trying to find away out of this circle

“You’re with us now darlin ya ain’t going anywhere” the older man said and now I was at the back of the group walking along the tracks just waiting to find a moment to escape

We eventually ventured off the tracks onto a road where we saw a man sitting in the middle of the road and my heart skipped a beat, I ran up ahead of the group careful not to upset Judith

The closer I got the clearer that winged vest became, the one person I needed to find the most and here he was

“Daryl” I said kneeling in front of him, he looked dirty and exhausted and……..broken

But when he looked at me I saw that hope in his eyes like when we first found the prison

“Are ya real?” He asked squeezing my arm

“I’m here D, I’m real”

He pulled me into a tight hug until Judith gave out a little whine

“Ya got lil asskicker?”

“Yeah, I lost track of you during the fight I saw Judith and I had to get out…..I’m sorry”

“Ya got out that’s what matters and ya found me”

“There’s something else I need to tell you”

I was cut off before I got to finish

“He yours? Ya claiming him?” Joe asked as the surrounded us

“Yes he’s mine” I looked back at Daryl and he looked defense and for good reason these people were dangerous

“Okay we’ll stop here for the night” Joe said as people started picking cars to sleep in

“Guess we can take the floor” I said sitting down farther from the others as Daryl tried to make himself comfortable laying on his garbage bag

I looked down at him my heart swelled with so much love and appreciation that I was able to find him again

“What’re ya lookin at” he asked with a slight smile

“I really thought I’d never see you again, thought I’d be alone out here just me and Judith forever and this ba…….but then I saw you again” I still haven’t gotten to tell him the news I found out that I was meant to tell him the day the governor destroyed our home

“What were ya meaning to tell me earlier” he asked as he leaned up on his arm

I sighed looking down at little Judith fast asleep in my arms

“I meant to tell you but then you know……..the governor came………I’m pregnant” he was silent for a long time he just looked down to my stomach where a little bulge was showing, it was early so it was only noticeable if you knew about it

“How’d this happen” he asked his eyebrows furrowing

“Are you mad?” I asked feeling my heart pump harder, I know this isn’t ideal but it’s done now and there’s nothing I can do

“Nah just……scared, for you, I can’t lose ya like Lori”

“Lori had a c-section with Carl, that’s why she died, I’m sure I’ll be fine D”

He motioned for me to lay on his chest, holding me close

“I love ya” he whispered

“I love you too Daryl”

Should I do a part 2?

325 notes · View notes

w3irdo666 · 10 months ago

Text

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

PART 1/ PART 2/ PART 3

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!reader

Letter count:2666

Warnings: mention of depression, i dont think anything more.

Notes:I slightly changed the course of events to make it more convenient to write, sorry!!!

Two angels were sitting on a bench in a small garden filled with different types of flowers. In front of the bench there was a fountain with clear, almost mirror-like water, giving the air a slightly damp taste. “I...I’m not sure if I can...you don’t have to be on my side, my idea is stupid-” Lucifer didn’t have time to finish when his words were interrupted by the girl’s soft laugh. She smiled and took Lucifer’s hands in hers, soft as plushie, warm hands, making Lucifer's heart beat a little faster. "Don't worry Luci, I will always be by your side, no matter what happens. It's my decision and your idea is not stupid. If they don't hear you... It will only show their stupidity." Her calm, kind voice added confidence to Lucifer. He smiled and looked away for a few seconds, but then moved his gaze back to the girl next to him. "Yes, you're right.. Thank you." His eyes looked into yours, radiating warmth.Moving closer, the girl hugged Lucifer. It was a warm, encouraging hug. “I will always support you, no matter what. I will always be by your side.”

Lucifer's sad gaze was directed at the new rubber duck he had just made. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Small, clear as glass, tears formed in the corners of his eyes, remembering his last moments in heaven, before his expulsion. Y/n. This girl was his friend, always supported his idea, was ready to give every part of herself to support Lucifer. Where are she now? How is her life? Is she happy? He does not know. "I will always be by your side, no matter what." Lucifer sobbed, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his suit.These words are ingrained in his head. He no longer really remembers her face, but he definitely remembers how soft her hands were. Her radiant smile.. He almost forgot what her laughter sounds like.Her beautiful, plump scarlet lips, which he always wanted to know what they tasted like. She was a ray of light in the darkness. How beautiful her wings were when she flew with him...Years of suffering, loneliness, depression.. during all this time he tried forget about her, because thoughts about her hurt him even more....

Trying to distract himself, he started making rubber ducks, "how pathetic". He thought.

Somehow finding the strength to get up from his chair, the King of Hell headed to his bed. The bed cracked slightly, feeling the weight of his body when Lucifer fell onto the soft mattress of the bed.

"You can't just go ahead and banish him! How dare you!" Tears flowed down the girl’s cheeks, burning her skin. Her voice almost broke from screaming. But no one wanted to hear her. No one cared.

Lucifer turned over on his back, his gaze staring at the ceiling. He would have continued to lie in deathly silence if the silence had not been broken by the unexpected ringing of the phone, causing Lucifer to flinch. With a quick movement, he rose from the bed and grabbed the phone.

"Daughter..?.... Daughter! Daughter calling!" Seeing the contact's name, Lucifer's sad face burst into a joyful smile and he almost dropped his phone. Charlie, his daughter is calling him! After a slightly awkward conversation, he said that he would be at Charlie’s hotel in an hour. After hanging up, he took a deep breath and smiled. The sadness that had been gnawing at him a few minutes ago was put on the back burner...

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his strength. He would finally see his daughter, after a long time. He couldn't screw it up.

Part 2 in progress!! Hope you enjoyed!! :D

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you

360 notes · View notes

delulujuls · 5 months ago

Text

build bridges, not walls | house of the dragon

hi, after few requests here comes the second part for so cold. i dedicate this to those who, like me, wish the targaryens some peace, happiness and love but did not get it from mr martin and hbo. enjoy!

summary: what if the greatest war in the history of westeros was a dance of dragons observed only as they played in the sky, rather than the greatest slaughter to befall the targaryen family?

warnings: incest, not very intensively described sex scene, mourning for a child, memories of a murder

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x aegon targaryen (ft. rhaenyra the kind and daemon the best-uncle-ever)

taglist: @tabalugax @hummusxx @dacreshoney

In the middle of the children’s chamber sat a figure, kneeling by a small table. The person was turning carefully cast bronze figurines in their hands, examining them with unprecedented attention. The figure put down a small horse and reached for a dragon figurine, lifting and slowly turning it in their fingers. After a moment, the silence was broken by a sob, and the dragon disappeared into the folds of a dress, pressed tightly to the chest.

The young queen was struggling with grief over her son. Even if she managed to keep her emotions in check throughout the day, she spent her evenings crying. She could not come to terms with the loss, and the pain was tearing her heart apart.

Her husband was also engulfed in despair, but his grief was unlike that of his wife. The girl was consumed by sadness, sorrow, and despair, without any anger. Aegon, however, was driven by unimaginable rage. The anger burned him from the inside, and the young king tried to drown it in alcohol. As one might guess, it was in vain.

It had only been a few days since prince Jaehaerys was brutally murdered. The funeral took place three days after that terrible night when the guards were notified of the crime. For a week, the young couple had not spoken a word to each other, letting grief consume them individually. Yet no one understood them as they did each other.

Last night, when the princess found Aegon crying, a breakthrough occurred. The boy pulled her to himself and hugged her tightly, letting all his accumulated sorrow out. For the first time in what seemed like ages, they showed each other a bit of warmth, forced by the death of their son.

Aegon was on his way to a small council meeting. His fists were clenched, and his gaze was fixed blankly ahead. The path he always took led past the children’s playroom. He used to joyfully peek through the doors and greet the children, finding a moment to talk to them and see how they were. Now, however, he would gladly have the doors to the chamber sealed up or better yet, burn the entire wing of the castle down.

He quickened his pace, wanting to pass the room as quickly as possible. The doors were open, and unsettling sounds were coming from inside. Aegon stopped, his breath nervously catching in his throat. He hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided to push the heavy doors and enter. He found his sister sitting at a small table with toys. The queen was alone, with no guards at the entrance. She did not want anyone to witness her breakdown. The boy heard her crying.

Aegon did not think long. He cared little about the council meeting, where they would likely fare better without him. Without a word, he stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him. He approached the girl uncertainly, just as she had approached him the night before when he cried alone. Aegon did not know if he was welcome or if his wife preferred to be alone. He decided to take the risk and, after a moment’s hesitation, sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

He pressed his lips to her shoulder, watching the dragon she held in her trembling hands.

They sat in silence and stillness for a while, the only sound being the uneven breath of the queen trying to stifle her sobs. Aegon reached for a swan figurine, smiling slightly.

“He always gave you this one to play with,” he said quietly, looking at the figurine. His other arm still held his wife. “Of all the animals, he thought you resembled a swan the most.”

The girl smiled sadly as her eyes caught sight of a donkey figurine. “Do you remember when he gave you the donkey?”

Aegon chuckled softly, putting down the swan and picking up the donkey figurine. “I wanted to be a dragon, and he gave me a lesson in humility.”

The girl wiped her wet cheeks, looking around the empty room. She sighed heavily, trying to push away another wave of despair that washed over her.

“I miss him so much,” she whispered with difficulty, sinking back into tears.

“Come here,” he said, holding her tightly when she turned towards him and snuggled into him. Aegon rested his chin on her head, holding her firmly in his arms. He was also struggling with unimaginable pain, but he was not struggling alone. There was someone else, his sister, his wife, and the mother of his children, who suffered just as much, if not more. One night, Aegon heard her cursing the Seven, condemning the world, and blaming herself for not saving their son. He heard her crying, saying that she should have been the one to die.

“This has to end, Aegon,” she whispered after a moment, pressing her head to his chest. “This has all gone too far.”

“It will end soon, I promise,” he assured her, kissing her hair. “I’ll burn down the Dragonstone and wipe out that nest of vipers.”

“No, no,” the girl quickly shook her head, looking up at his face. “Enough death, there’s been far too much already.”

Aegon smiled, cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears with his thumb.

“No, there hasn’t. There will be more if I don’t destroy Rhaenyra and her band of bastards.”

“We are family,” she tightened her grip on his wrist but did not push his hand away. “There is nothing worse than war among family members, especially when dragons fight each other.”

The king’s smile faded, and his eyes nervously scanned his wife’s face. He wanted to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t let him.

“Please, Aegon,” she touched his cheek. “Don’t go down that path, I beg you.”

“That bitch murdered my son, and what, I should just accept it?” he asked angrily, pushing her hand away.

“Not only your son but mine too,” she replied, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “But I don’t want to process my grief with revenge.”

The boy was about to respond when the frown between his brows began to soften. His gaze cooled and gentled entirely when he looked at his wife’s face again. He saw in front of him his complete opposite, despite being like two drops of water. The same hair color, the same eyes, the identical skin tone, the same blood running through their veins. But Aegon’s blood pumped a heart filled with sorrow and hatred, while the young queen’s heart was torn and filled with sadness. Despite the pain that connected them, they were experiencing grief entirely differently.

The girl touched his cheek after a moment. “Let’s not solve this with war.”

Aegon sighed and closed his eyes, feeling her thumb slowly slide across his skin.

“What do you propose then?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

“A reconciliation of the warring sides,” she said. She noticed his eyelid twitch nervously, but he remained composed and silent. “Rhaenyra will recognize your rule and bend the knee, Aemond will express remorse for the death of Lucerys, and Daemon for that mistake—”

When the girl realized she had said too much, it was already too late. The air in the room thickened instantly, and a pair of violet eyes pierced her like a dagger.

“Daemon?” he asked, barely spitting out the name of his uncle. “And what, fucking, mistake?”

The young queen wanted to get up from the floor, to be as far away from the ticking bomb ready to explode, but Aegon grabbed her by the hips and pushed her down. He sat on her and immobilized her wrists.

The girl tried to push him off her, but he tightened his grip and shook her violently.

“Speak!”

“It was supposed to be Aemond!” she cried, turning her head away from his furious face. “A son for a son!”

“For fucks sake!” Aegon roared, standing up and kicking the table. The toys scattered on the ground. “How did they mistake a five-year-old for a grown man without an eye?!”

The girl sat up, curling her legs and quickly moving as far away as possible, but her back soon met the hard wood of the wardrobe. She knew Aegon was furious and it was freezing her blood.

“How do you know this?” he asked, turning towards her. She looked up at him from below, terrified and unable to utter a word.

The boy took a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

“I asked,” he began slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. “How do you know this?”

“I flew to Dragonstone,” she said, hugging herself with her arms. “I had to do it, I had to talk to her—”

“They could have killed you!” he shouted, losing all the composure he had tried to maintain. “They could have dealt me the hardest blow, the last one they had left!”

Aegon began to pace nervously around the room. He didn’t even notice when he started to cry himself.

The young queen covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle her sobs. Aegon’s fury frightened her more than the specter of war.

The boy knew he had overstepped. She was not to blame, and there was no reason to raise his voice or, worse, his hand at her. He looked at his sister, who sat huddled like a frightened animal. Aegon sighed and approached her. He knelt, taking her face in his hands.

“They could have taken you from me, you understand?” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “They could have taken the last meaning of life I had left.”

"Rhaenyra doesn't want war," she replied equally softly, her voice trembling. "And no one wanted to hurt me."

Aegon silently looked at her face, his gaze moving across her features. Her swollen, tear-filled eyes, wet, flushed cheeks, and chapped lips. She had beautiful lips, he thought. She was beautiful all over.

The young king ran his thumb over her lower lip, and the last tear he had under his eyelids trickled down his cheek.

"I love you," he said, shifting his gaze back to her eyes. "I love you unimaginably."

The girl was about to say something, but he leaned in and kissed her deeply. He pressed her firmly against him, making the wood of the wardrobe she was leaning against creak.

The young queen returned the kiss, hesitantly placing her hands on his shoulders. Her brother's mood swings had terrified her even before they were married. As if sensing her uncertainty, Aegon took her hands and kissed each of them.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, pressing her hands to his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

In response, she lifted his face and kissed him again. Aegon straightened her legs, wrapping them around his waist. The young queen understood him without words, wrapping her legs around his hips. Without breaking their kisses, Aegon grabbed her firmly and pulled her close, making her the one pressing him to the ground, sitting on him.

"Make love with me," he whispered, pulling away from her lips. "Please."

The girl kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck, silently agreeing to his request. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he embraced her waist, kissing her tenderly. Their tongues did not battle but performed a dance of love. Their hungry lips could not tear themselves away from each other for even a moment.

Aegon lifted the folds of her dress, sliding his hands under it. He squeezed her bare thighs, making her sigh into his mouth. They both needed a bit of warmth.

"Not here," she whispered into his mouth after a moment. "I don't want—"

"I understand," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. This room was more sacred than the Great Sept of Baelor.

Soon, they found themselves in their shared chamber, which they had only used twice before. They had only been together in their marital bed during the bedding ceremony; every other night, they spent alone. But this night was not one of those.

Naked bodies were entwined, and soft moans and prolonged sighs filled the walls, warming them more than the fire dancing in the fireplace.

"You are so beautiful," Aegon whispered as her lips parted at the sudden, intense feeling. "So beautiful."

He pulled out of her as slowly as he had entered her a moment earlier. Their sweaty foreheads rested against each other, and their hands, thirsty for contact, grasped every piece of skin.

"Please," she moaned softly, gripping his hips with her fingers. She tried to pull him closer to her. Aegon braced his elbows on either side of her head and entwined his fingers in her hair, lying on her with his full weight. The girl let out a soft moan; it was a sweet weight. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he kissed her deeply. Without breaking the dance of their tongues, he slowly began to move within her hot, tight interior. Soft moans and sighs escaped the young queen's lips, which Aegon drank as if they were sweet nectar.

"I love you," she whispered when he pulled away to admire her blissful face. "I love you, my dearest."

Aegon's cheeks were flushed, his light hair disheveled. His eyes gleamed, not with tears this time, but with desire. He held his sister in his arms, the closest person to him, blood of his blood. His wife, the mother of his children. The young queen who was willing to risk her life to protect the realm from disaster. For the first time, Aegon sincerely and deeply understood that he loved her. And it was an unimaginable love.

"I would die for you," he touched her cheek. "What is the killing of a million, two million, the whole world? I would give my life for you."

The girl breathed shallowly, her heart pounding wildly. Aegon had never confessed his love to her, certainly never in this way. She saw the fire of emotions in his eyes, saw the love with which he looked at her. For the first time, she felt she did not have a stranger beside her but someone who was closest to her.

She gently touched his cheek and ran her thumb over it, and Aegon joined their lips again after a moment. That night, one of the chambers in the Red Keep was filled with unimaginable love, and the castle walls had never heard so many tender words before.

Jaehaerys' death was an unimaginable tragedy, but the boy did not die in vain. His death united two people in love. Not the forced marriage or even the birth of two children did that, no. To feel love, the young couple first had to experience unimaginable grief.

Aegon, in the eyes of the family, lords, and servants, was considered irresponsible and impulsive. He was often insolent and cruel, and in anger, terrifying and unpredictable. His sister, now his wife and the young queen, was no exception. As a child, she did not like her eldest brother, who often teased her and pulled her hair. In later years, she avoided him like the plague because it seemed best for her. By avoiding him, she did not have to endure his difficult character. When the old king died and Aegon ascended the throne, his temper cooled somewhat. He still sought amusement in wine and pleasures, but sometimes he remembered he was a king and had duties to fulfill. Often, when in a good mood, he enthusiastically participated in meetings with commoners, listening to their complaints, requests, and grievances.

During one audience, his wife accompanied him, sitting on a soft seat right by his knees. When one of the peasants asked for the return of his sheep, which had been sent as food for the dragons, Aegon was genuinely concerned. He wanted to help the commoner and even offered to return the sheep. The young queen could not believe her ears; she had to discreetly turn around to see if the same boy she had known since childhood was sitting next to her. Aegon's concerned gaze rested on his sister's face before returning to the worried peasant. Aegon was concerned and wanted to solve this problem, much to the probable surprise of everyone, in favor of the farmer. The young, cruel king felt responsible for his people for the first time and wanted to help as best as he could.

However, his anger remained terrible and showed its destructive power. When he learned of his son's death, he demolished their father's chamber, destroying everything in his path. The hands that had clutched a sword so tightly then gently held a soft body now. The lips that had shouted and uttered death threats now whispered tenderly, bestowing sweet kisses. The gaze, so often indifferent and cold, now looked with love. At that moment, he was not Aegon the Ruthless.

"Aegon the Tender," the girl said softly as they lay cuddled together. "Aegon of House Targaryen, second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. But simply, Aegon the Tender."

The boy smiled at her words. His sister lay snuggled against him, resting her cheek on his chest, gently sliding her fingers over it.

"Aegon the Tender?" he asked, glancing at her. "That's the nickname you'd give me?"

The young queen nodded without moving away from him. It was pleasant to feel his fingers tracing patterns on her bare back.

"King of Soft Kisses, Sweet Words, and Lord of Pleasure," she added, smiling as his chest trembled. The boy laughed at her words.

"I'll gladly present this idea to the council."

They lay cuddled in silence, their steady breaths finding a common rhythm. After a while, though, the girl propped herself up on her elbow and looked at his face.

"I believe, I deeply believe, that you are not cruel," she began, looking into his violet eyes. "I sincerely hope that you do not want war either."

Aegon lowered his gaze. The girl continued, touching his cheek.

"Please, make peace with Rhaenyra. Please."

The young king sighed but returned his gaze to his sister's still-blushed face.

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"Just allow it," she ran her thumb over his cheek. "I will make sure Rhaenyra accepts you as king. Aemond will express remorse for Lucerys' death, and Daemon—"

"Let it be so," he did not let her finish, but he looked up at her, wanting to reassure her with his words. "But I don't want them in the palace. After everything, let them stay on Dragonstone."

The young queen smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead.

"Every day, you are becoming a better ruler, my sweet king,"

Aegon pulled her close again, enclosing her in a strong embrace.

"Let's keep this between us, alright?" she requested, pressing her cheek against his chest once more. "I'll handle this myself, without the help of Mother and the Hand. They've done enough."

The next evening, the young queen was preparing once again to visit Dragonstone. Clad in a cloak and cape, she was about to leave her chamber when one of the maids appeared in the doorway, holding a tearful Jaehaera in her arms.

"Your Grace," the maid began worriedly before the queen could ask what had happened. She rocked the girl on her hip, whose cheeks were streaked with tears. "The princess doesn’t want to sleep. She’s been calling for you the entire time."

The girl took her daughter, who immediately clung tightly to her.

"There, there, darling," she whispered, kissing her hair. She began to gently rock the girl in her arms.

"Are you going somewhere, my lady?" the maid asked uncertainly, seeing that the queen was dressed to go out. "It’s terribly late."

"You know I sleep poorly," she replied, pressing her cheek to her daughter’s head. "Without a walk before bed, I can't shut my eyes."

"Your insomnia likely affects the princess as well, Your Grace," the maid smiled sadly.

The girl kissed her daughter again.

"You may leave," she glanced at the woman. "Jaehaera will sleep with me tonight."

The maid quickly bowed and obediently left the chamber, quietly closing the door behind her. The young queen rocked her daughter in her arms. However, it was clear the girl wouldn't fall asleep.

"How about we take a flight on the dragon before bed?" she asked. The girl wiped her tears with her small hand and nodded. The mother kissed her on the forehead, got her ready for the journey, and then, under the cover of night, they left the castle together. Jaehaera stopped crying as soon as she snuggled into her mother. The calm emanating from her mother soothed the girl, and she wasn’t frightened by the darkness of the Dragonpit. The dragons sensed the child's presence and remained peaceful. They didn't make their usual noise but lay quietly, watching as the woman with the child approached Vermithor, who awoke as soon as they left the castle.

"Big," Jaehaera smiled, pointing at the bronze giant whose snout lay flat on the ground. The dragon gently observed the mother and daughter, clearly pleased by their presence.

"Yes, Vermithor is very big," the girl smiled. "Would you like to ride such a big dragon?"

The girl nodded happily, stretching her small hand forward. The young queen approached the dragon, allowing her daughter to stroke its scales. The last thing on little Jaehaera’s mind was sleep.

They sat on the dragon's back, and the mother positioned her daughter in front of her, wrapping her in her cloak. She kissed her hooded head and commanded Vermithor to head to Dragonstone. She didn’t need to say more; the dragon knew exactly where to go.

Only when Vermithor took to the air, and the girl heard her daughter’s excited squeal, did she realize it was the first time Jaehaera had ridden a dragon. It was their first time doing something together without a crowd of servants and a dozen guards. It was just the two of them. Mother and daughter. The young queen smiled at the sudden warmth in her heart. She hugged the girl tighter.

They reached Dragonstone without any issues. Jaehaera sat quietly the entire way, occasionally muttering words of approval towards Vermithor.

When they stood before the castle gates, the woman removed the hood from her own head and her daughter’s. The guards were genuinely surprised to see the unexpected guests.

"Your Grace, princess," they greeted, straightening up. They didn’t have time to ask what brought them to the castle at such an hour, as the gate opened and Jacaerys appeared outside. Despite the darkness, the young prince must have noticed the dragon. He smiled at the sight of his aunt and cousin.

"Your Grace-," he couldn’t finish, as the girl approached and hugged him tightly. She hadn’t seen her nephew in a long time.

"Jace," Jaehaera said, pointing at her cousin. The boy smiled emotionally, kissing her on the forehead.

"It's so good to see you," he said, gesturing for them to come inside. "Come, princess has been expecting you."

Indeed, Rhaenyra awaited her sister in the main hall. It was clear she had been woken from sleep; this time, however, she had managed to put on a robe. She was surprised to see her niece. Smiling, her eyes filled with tears as she quickly approached and hugged her sister, kissing the girl she held in her arms on the forehead.

"You have no idea how much joy you've brought me," she said, caressing the little girl’s cheek.

"And I’ll bring you even more joy," she added, smiling. Rhaenyra looked into her eyes. She saw that her sister wasn’t carrying bad news.

Jaehaera played with Jacaerys by the fireplace as the two women sat at the table.

Rhaenyra didn’t have a chance to speak as her sister immediately started.

"Aegon doesn't want war," she said, feeling as if she were lifting a great burden off her shoulders with those words. "He has no intention of starting a bloodshed."

Rhaenyra smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders as well.

"What are his demands?"

"He wants you to acknowledge him as king," she replied, looking at her sister’s face. "And he expects Daemon to apologize."

The princess took a deep breath, leaning back and resting against the chair. To be honest, she had heard exactly what she expected.

"What about Aemond?"

"He will express his regret for Lucerys’ death," she assured.

"And Dragonstone?" she looked at her sister.

"He has no intention of expelling you. He would be genuinely happy if you stayed here."

Rhaenyra remained silent for a moment but eventually nodded. She knew there was no other way. One of the dragons had to yield, and fortunately, it didn’t come to a clash between two males.

"Let it be so," she smiled. "Let peace finally reign."

The young queen returned her smile and hugged her tightly.

Moments later, Daemon entered the chamber, and the atmosphere seemed to instantly thicken. Jaehaera, sitting by the fireplace, pointed at her uncle and smiled innocently. She had no idea it was because of him that her brother had died.

"And who do we have here," Daemon smiled, approaching her. Jacaerys nervously glanced at his mother and aunt, but they didn’t move an inch. The young queen felt a tight knot form in her throat.

Daemon picked up the girl and kissed her cheek.

"Did you fly on a dragon for the first time today?" he asked, to which she nodded. "Really? You weren’t scared?"

Jaehaera shook her head, gesturing with her hand to show how big the dragon she had ridden with her mother was.

"The courage of the Targaryen women never ceases to amaze me," he said, this time directing his words to the women sitting nearby. The young queen exhaled, trying to relax. If peace was to prevail, they would all have to learn to trust each other again. Everyone, without exception.

"Aegon expects an apology," Rhaenyra announced, looking at her husband. He didn’t look at her, being occupied with showing the girl the dragon brooch on his robe.

"I am aware of that," he replied. "I will apologize if Aemond does the same."

"He will also apologize," the young queen interjected, looking at her uncle. "I will ensure it."

"Then we will all be a family again," Daemon smiled at Jaehaera, each word accompanied by his fingers tickling the girl’s belly, making her laugh.

The women looked at each other, and Rhaenyra simply nodded, squeezing her sister's hand reassuringly. Storm clouds began to disperse over the dragon's house.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #hotd s2 #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you

373 notes · View notes