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idontknowanyonesblog · 7 months ago

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How I think the bayverse bots would react after having an argument/ disagreement with there s/o

This one includes Drift, Crosshairs, Bumblebee, Hound, Hot Rod and Optimus

Cade calls reader kid a few times but he literally calls everyone younger then him kid so don’t worry😭

Drift:

Drift was stressed. He felt like Optimus was relying on him more and more ever since the TRF came after the autobots. Meditating was something Drift did to calm himself down so that’s what he went to do. He sat on the far side of the junkyard trying to clear his thoughts before you came over to him to tell him something before he interrupted you and went off. You just looked up at him bewildered that he would blow up at you for no reason at all. You scoffed at him before speaking in a hurt tone “well if you wanna be alone then we can arrange that!”. It literally took him like 10 seconds to realize that he shouldn’t have done that but you had already walked away. You decided to give him the silent treatment for a few days. It was hard for him to watch you walk right past him and not even look his direction. Once he finally decided enough was enough he cornered you and gave you a genuine apology. “I’m so sorry my precious flower I didn’t mean to yell at you, I wasn’t thinking clearly but that still isn’t an excuse.” He said to you as he kneeled down and bowed his head in shame. How could you not forgive him? Especially as his bright blue optics were full of guilt. He looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s okay Drift, I understand. You just were really stressed out.” You said reassuringly to him to make sure he didn’t feel TO bad. He still felt super guilty and took you out on a drive through a really nice country area and told you how much he loves you and loves being with you.

Crosshairs:

We all know Crosshairs can be a rude jerk (once in a while tho) so it’s no surprise you two finally had an argument. He just being snapping, rude, irritated for no reason and just overall an asshole that day. “What’s your problem Cross? You’ve been so…bitchy to me all day! If I did something wrong just tell me!” You said in an annoyed voice, finally having enough of this. Your words just seemed to piss him off more. He looked at you and went off about how you never leave him alone and how everyone is always on his ass etc. You huffed and walked away not wanting to deal with him anymore. It had been a few hours and he still didn’t come looking for you which actually kinda hurt. You assumed he just didn’t care or felt no remorse but that quickly changed when Cade came over to you. “Listen kid, you needa go make things right with your hissy fit boyfriend over there cus apparently you two got in a fight and now he won’t talk to anyone!” Cade said slightly out of breath from running across the junkyard. You were shocked. Not only because of what Cade told you but because Crosshairs literally never told anyone anything so it was a bit of a surprise he told Cade you guys had an argument. You sighed and went to look for him and when you finally found him he was facing away from everyone with his arms crossed like a child that had just been sent to time out. It was actually kinda funny but this wasn’t the time to laugh. “Crosshairs…I’m sorry that I said you were acting bitchy. I-I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just wanted to find out why you were so rude to me today…” You said in a soft voice as you stepped closer to him. “No, it’s fine. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I didn’t mean to yell at you love.” He sighed and turned to look at you. You smiled at him and walked up to him. He picked you up and placed you on his shoulder and proceeded to tell you how much he loved you for the next 10 minutes.

Bumblebee:

Arguments with Bee were extremely rare like EXTREMELY rare, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen from time to time. It was late when the two of you got back to the junkyard and to say you were pretty pissed was an understatement. He was being reckless and dangerous with you so you scolded him (and yelled in a very angry manner at him) until your throat was sore. He made a sad little wiring sound and slumped forward, clearly ashamed of himself. You left without saying a word. You woke up the next morning to the sound of something tapping on your window. You groaned and got up to open the curtains and when you did you saw Bee kneeled down and tapping at your window. You sighed and went outside so you could see him fully. You put your hands on your hips as he looked down at you with his light baby blue optics. “Bee listen, I-“ before you could finish he cut you off with a static sound. A few moments later the lyrics to careless whisper started to play out of his radio.

“So I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you~

Never without your love~

Tonight the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd~”

A small laugh escaped your lips and you let out a little smile at him. You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “Okay okay, I forgive you Bee!” You chuckled lightly. “Good-I love you” his radio buzzed out between crackles. Just as you were about to go back inside his radio buzzed once more. “Love me, love me, say that you love me~” The cardigans, nice band choice. You turned to look at him with a large smile. “I love you very much Bee.” He made a happy little clicking and wiring sound as he bent down to you. You placed a hand on the side of his muzzle and gave him a small kiss before going back inside.

Hound:

Hound was know for being reckless and making poor decisions and this was another one of those poor decisions. The day started off fine until Cade said he needed him to come with him to check out a demolished town about a two or so hours from the junkyard. You heard Cade say something about “traces of energon” and you automatically knew this wasn’t going to end up well. Hound and Cade left the Junkyard for over 6 hours which you made you worry. A twisted sick feeling in your stomach as you prayed that they would come back unharmed, and well they did come back, they didn’t come back unharmed. Cade explained how the TRF found them and how they had to get out of there. Cade was scratched and bruised everywhere and Hound looked worse than you’ve ever seen. After patching up Cade and fixing Hound they got the scolding of a lifetime. Cade went inside his trailer while you decided to walk away from Hound and settle this more in the morning. The next day you went to go find him and went off about

how reckless he was being. “I just don’t understand why you have to always put yourself in these situations! I-i was worried sick a-and I thought you weren’t going to come back!” You said in distress. Hound looked extremely guilty and regretful. He knew how much you worried for him. “I’m sorry Y/n, I really am! I didn’t think twice about it but at least we got out alive. Damn fleshy no good back stabbing humans…” He muttered the last part. You sighed and looked up at him. “It’s fine Hound, I was just really worried. Just please try not to be as careless next time.” You said softly to him. He met your gaze and nodded. “I won’t, I promise. I love you Y/n.” He said. “Love you to Hound.” you said with a light smile.

Hot Rod:

This takes place at Sir Edmontons castle when Bumblebee and Cade arrive so like reader lives at the castle with Sir Edmonton.

Hot Rod was acting strange around you. Giving you short replies to your questions and barely speaking to you ever since Cade and Bumblebee arrived at the castle. It upset you that suddenly he just stopped talking to you but there was only so much you could do. You decided to take a walk through the gardens to clear your head and on the way you found Bumblebee. The two of you chatted a little bit until you saw Hot Rod in the distance and waved to him. He waved back and looked like he was about to come over until he noticed Bumblebee standing next to you and turned away. So that’s the problem. He was mad about you and Bumblebee spending time together. Bumblebee made a small wiring sound and shrugged as he looked down at you with a confused expression. “It’s nothing personal Bee, I’ll go talk to him…” you sighed and went in the direction where Hot Rod was going. Once you caught up to him you realized you were walking near the edge of the cliff that met the ocean. The sunset casting a beautiful orange glow onto the castle grounds. “Hot Rod, what’s wrong? You aren’t speaking to me lately.” You asked him softly as you walked next to him. “There is nothing wrong Amour.” He said a bit irritated. “Don’t lie to me, I saw the way you looked at Bumblebee. And it’s no coincidence that as soon as he shows up you stop talking to me so please just tell me what I did wrong!” You pleaded in a hurt voice. Hot Rod sighed before coming to a stop and kneeling down in front of you. “I’m sorry chérie, I just feel like as soon as Bumblebee came you stopped speaking with me as much and I got jealous so I stopped talking to you.” He admitted in a remorseful tone. You could see the guilt on his face as he refused to make eye contact with you. You felt just as bad, it was never your intention to ignore him, you were just curious when you got to meet another autobot for once. You placed a hand on the side of his face gently. “Hot Rod, I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was uninterested in you, I was just curious about finally meeting another autobot. I would never try and replace you my love.” You said to him with a soft expression. “ I you didn’t mean anything by it Y/n, it was irresponsible of me to act like I did. I love you more than anything.” He said as he placed his hands around your waist and lifted you up. “I love you to Hot Rod.” You giggled before kissing him gently.

Optimus Prime:

Because Optimus wasn’t really in the last knight that much until the end of the movie I’m just gonna stick with the junkyard for this one sorry guys🙏

Optimus was tired. He was tired, stressed, sore and exhausted from everything. For months he had been protecting the autobots, you and Cade. He had been protecting his friends. His family. You noticed how tired Optimus was and you barely ever saw him anymore. You wished he could catch a break but he always overworked himself. One night he looked rougher than usual and that’s when you finally spoke up. “Optimus, you need to rest. You’ve been working your ass off day and night to keep everyone safe and happy but you don’t take the time to make sure you’re safe and happy.” You said as you paced around in front of him. His deep gravely voice braking you out of your trance. “I’m not a child Y/n, I know what I need and I do not need to rest.” His comment made you clench your fists. You were simply trying to look out for him and he gives you some snappy little comeback. You knew it wasn’t his fault, he was exhausted and obviously frustrated with everything going on. A sigh left your lips as you muttered a small goodnight to him before walking away to get some rest yourself but all night you couldn’t stop wishing that he was at rest to. Optimus watched as you walked away, a feeling of guilt ate away at his spark. You were trying to do what was best for him and he pushed you away. After talking a bit with Cade about the little argument he decided to finally get some rest and deal with it in the morning. Once morning finally came Optimus spotted you walking to the auto shop in the middle of the junkyard. You heard his loud thunderous footsteps and looked over at him, your expression a bit gloomy from what happened yesterday. He kneeled down to you and looked you deep in your eyes. “I’m so sorry for talking to you like that the other night my sweetspark, I didn’t mean to snap and you were right, I do need to rest.” He said in a deep tired voice. He looked so guilty but only sincere with his apology to you that it made your heart flutter. You smiled softly at him before speaking. “It’s okay Optimus, I’m just glad you’re starting to realize what’s best for you.” He nodded and gave you another apologetic look before standing up again. “I must go out with Cade, he needs me for something but I will be back shortly. I love you Y/n.” Optimus said before transforming into his truck mode. “Love you to Optimus and be safe.” You said back to him as he drove off towards Cade. You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.

OK THATS IT BYE❤️

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 8 months ago

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I have a small idea and I think your writing is always amazing. So y/n has a crush on Bucky but he doesn't know. He opens up about having nightmares one time in conversation and she says she has lots of ideas (yoga, meditation, music, dancing, massage, reading the hobbit to bucky, doing skin care etc) and begins this whole ordeal of trying to get rid of buckys nightmares. She places a huge teddy bear outside his door one night as she knows he sometimes leaves his room after having nightmares. Sometimes she'll leave her perfume on things and he begins to get attached. Eventually it's suggested they cuddle and bucky confesses his feelings?? I don't know.. It's just a thought.

Ways To Help » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You come up with ways to help Bucky with his nightmares.

Warnings: Fluff, language, cuddling, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @teddybearbucky 🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

“Good morning, Sarge!” You chirped with a smile.

“Morning.” Bucky mumbles loud enough for you to hear.

He sat down at the table in the kitchen in the Avengers Compound and put his head in his hands, sighing loudly. You looked at him and frowned.

“Are you ok?” You asked with concern in your voice.

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” He says.

“This might help.” You say, putting a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thanks.” He sighs, taking a sip of it.

You sat down next to him with your own cup of coffee. You could see the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes.

“Did you have a bad dream last night?” You asked.

“That’s one way to put it.” Bucky looks down at the coffee in the cup. “I don’t want to unload my problems onto you.” He says.

“I know I’m new here, but you’re more than welcome to tell me anything. I’m a good listener.” You say.

Bucky thought about it for a moment before looking at you.

“I have nightmares.” He starts. “Nightmares from what I done as the Winter Soldier. The blood, the screams, it’s still there.” He says.

“That wasn’t you, Bucky.” You put a comforting hand on his arm. “Nothing was in your control then. You don’t need to feel guilty for something you didn’t do.” You say softly.

“I know, but it’s still there and it won’t go away.” He says.

“If you want, I can come up with ways to help you.” You suggested.

“You’d do that for me?” He asks.

“Of course I would!” You smiled. “I consider us friends. Friends help each other out, don’t they?” You say.

“I suppose they do.” He says with a smile.

You smiled and kissed his stubbly cheek before going to the gym and train. Bucky sat at the table in curiosity, curious to know what you’re going to come up with to help him with his nightmares. Later that day at night, you knocked on Bucky’s bedroom door and he opened it, stepping aside to let you in.

“What’d you come up with?” Bucky asks curiously as he closed the door.

“I thought we’d start off with something easy. Like reading. Do you have any books?” You asked.

Bucky went in his closet and dug around in a box, finding what he was looking for. He walked out of the closet and handed you the book.

“Feel free to call me a nerd, but this is all I have.” He says, handing you the book.

You read the title of the book, The Hobbit. You continued to look at the book, admiring how old it is.

“I read it in 1937 when it first came out.” He says.

His cheeks turned red in embarrassment, thinking that you would think he’s a nerd for reading something like that.

“I don’t think you’re a nerd.” You looked at him. “I think it’s cute.” You say, smiling at him.

You and Bucky got on his bed and got under the blanket. Bucky listened to every word you read, loving the sound of your voice. It soothed him. About halfway through the book, he fell asleep. You bookmarked the page you left off on and put it on his nightstand. You kissed his forehead and carefully got out of bed, trying your best to not wake him up and went to your own bedroom and went to sleep. Around 3am, you woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door. You got out of bed and opened it to see Bucky on the other side. You stepped aside to let him in your room.

“Bucky, are you ok?” You asked.

Bucky shook his head no. You took in his appearance and noticed that he was shirtless, sweaty, his hair was messy, and his breathing was heavy.

“Breath.” You say softly.

Bucky watched as you took a deep breath in and exhaled. He copied your breathing pattern till his breathing was back to normal.

“Nightmare?” You asked, sitting down on your bed.

“Yea.” Bucky sighs, sitting down next to you. “Reading didn’t work.” He says, his voice laced with disappointment.

You two sat in silence for a moment when something came to your mind. Something that helped you when you were a kid.

“Come with me.” You say, standing up.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asks, following you down the hall.

“To the kitchen.” You say, pushing the button.

The elevator dinged and you two got on it. You pushed the button to the kitchen. The elevator dinged again and you two got off of it. Bucky watched curiously as you rummaged through the cabinets for something.

“What are you looking for?” He asks.

“Hot chocolate.” You say.

“Why?” He asks.

“It’s something that my mom you give me when I was a kid when I had bad dreams.” You explained.

You found the hot chocolate and grabbed two packets, along with two mugs. You made the hot chocolate and gave Bucky one of them and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Ok, so reading didn’t work…” You start, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “How do you feel about yoga?” You asked, looking at him.

“It’s too girly to me.” He says.

“Ok. Umm…” You continued to think. “What about meditation?” You asked.

“Not my thing.” He says, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Alright. What about…” You thought harder. “Music?” You asked.

“Sounds interesting to me. Let’s do it.” He says.

You and Bucky drank your hot chocolates before going back to his bedroom.

“I don’t have anything for music.” He says.

“That’s ok. We can use my phone.” You went to the music app on your phone. “What kind of music do you like?” You asked.

“I like 40s music.” He tells you.

You looked up 40s music and played the first song that popped up. You placed your phone on Bucky’s nightstand and sat down on his bed. You looked up to see Bucky holding his right hand out to you.

“Let’s dance.” Bucky says.

“I don’t know how to dance.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“That’s ok. I’ll teach you.” He says with a smile.

You smiled and put your hand in his and stood up. Bucky wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, making your breath hitch in your throat. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

“Just move with me and you’ll be fine.” Bucky says softly.

You and Bucky swayed to the music. Your stomach erupted with butterflies when you felt Bucky’s vibranium hand gently rub up and down your back.

“You know…” Bucky breaks the silence. “You’re a really amazing friend.” He tells you. “You’re definitely my most gorgeous friend.” He says in a flirty tone.

“Y-You think I’m gorgeous?” You asked, stuttering.

“Yes.” He says with a smile.

You couldn’t help but blush uncontrollably. Your eyes began to droop and you laid your head on his chest. Bucky sensed it and shut off the music.

“Let’s get you to bed, doll.” He says softly.

Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you down on your bed.

“Shouldn’t I be the one helping you sleep, not the other way around?” You asked, giggling.

“I’m just returning the favor.” He says with a smile.

Bucky shut your bedroom light off before walking out of your room and went back to his own room. Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky have gotten closer. You two know each other better than you guys did a few weeks ago. Saying you two are best friends now is a statement. Plus, Bucky hasn’t been having nightmares as much as he used to.

You placed a big teddy bear in front of Bucky’s closed bedroom door and sprayed your perfume on it. The elevator dinged and you quickly were to your bedroom and closed the door before he seen you. Bucky stopped in his tracks when he seen the teddy bear. He slowly approached it, slightly suspicious. He dropped his suspicions when he got a whiff of perfume. He automatically knew the scent of perfume. It’s the scent you wear on a daily. He picked the teddy bear up and opened his bedroom door, placing it on the floor against the wall.

“Hey, Bucky!” You say, smiling widely.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky says, not as enthusiastic as you.

You frowned as you watched his vibranium hand rub his right shoulder.

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” You asked with concern in your voice.

“I think I pulled a muscle or something while training earlier.” He says, slightly wincing in pain.

“I can give you a massage if you want.” You suggested.

“Would you?” He asks.

“Of course I would!” You smiled. “Like I said, friends help friends out.” You say.

“You really are a doll.” Bucky kisses your cheek. “I’m going to take a shower before that massage.” He says before walking away.

You stood there frozen with butterflies fluttering in your stomach and blush creeping up on your cheeks. After a few seconds, you closed your eyes and shook your head before going to your room. A little bit later, Bucky knocked on your bedroom door and you gave him permission to come in.

“Take a seat.” You say, patting the bed in front of you.

Bucky sat down on your bed while you sat on your knees behind him. You rubbed his right shoulder, applying pressure. Bucky quickly relaxed with your touch.

“You give amazing massages.” Bucky sighs. “You have really soft hands.” He compliments.

“Thank you.” You say, smiling.

Bucky couldn’t see your face, but you’re blushing uncontrollably behind him. The compliments he gives you and the kisses on the cheeks he been giving you lately has been making you blush more than you normally do.

“You know…” He speaks up. “I know you’re the one who put that teddy bear outside of my bedroom.” He says.

“How- How do you know it’s me and not Natasha or Wanda?” You asked, stuttering.

“Natasha and Wanda don’t wear floral scented perfume.” He says.

You went quiet and felt your cheeks heat up. Bucky turned around to face you, seeing that your face is red.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you have a crush on me, doll?” He asks, looking deep in your eyes.

“We were getting to know each other so well that I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” You say, looking down at your lap.

His vibranium hand caressed your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin, making you shiver. What Bucky did next surprised you. He leaned in, placing his lips on yours and kissed you passionately and sweetly. His lips felt soft against yours. It felt like everything around you guys was in slow motion and sparks were flying. It was everything you imagined. When Bucky pulled away, you were left breathless.

“Holy shit…” You say breathlessly.

Bucky couldn’t help but lightly laugh at your cuteness.

“How about we cuddle for the rest of the night.” Bucky suggests.

“I like the sound of that.” You say softly, smiling at him.

You and Bucky laid back on your bed and covered yourselves up with a blanket. You turned your TV on and put a movie on. You laid your head on Bucky’s chest. Your fingers played with Bucky’s dog tags while his vibranium hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“Just so you know…” Bucky breaks the silence. “I have a crush on you.” He says.

“You like me?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I thought I was making it pretty obvious for you when I complimented you and gave you cheek kisses.” He says.

“I thought you were just being friendly.” You say.

“Do friends do this?” He asks, kissing you again.

“No.” You giggled against his lips.

“Then that makes us more than friends.” He says.

“I’m completely fine with that.” You say.

“Me too.” He says, softly pecking your lips.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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zorosangell · 1 month ago

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⛥ﾟ・。 happy birthday

synopsis: it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special

cw: nsfw (male & fem receiving), spanking, dirty talk, zoro's a little rough, some leather, some comfort, maybe a little ooc zoro but who gives a shit, reader + nami = trouble, usopp's a real og, reader can see visions, reader has black angel wings, both aren't really pertinent to the story but they're described, etc.

a/n: happy thanksgiving!

"Ladies, I need your assistance," you stated, plainly, approaching your two best friends—who were lounging on the deck chairs—and plopping yourself down next to them.

This was beyond urgent.

"Of course, (y/n)," Nami nodded, dropping her magazine in her lap and glancing up at you with an inviting smile. "What's up?"

"Is everything alright?" Robin asked, slightly concerned.

"Everything's... fine," you nodded, unconvincingly, actively trying to think up a way to explain. "I just... I did a thing... and learned something I probably shouldn't have... about Zoro."

'Huh?'

"About Zoro?" she raised a brow, now even more intrigued.

"Did he hurt you? Or say something stupid again?" Nami's gaze turned sharp, the woman sitting up rigidly in her seat, ready to go to war. "If he did, I swear, I'll wring his muscly-ass neck!"

"No, no! Not that," you quickly assured, shaking your head. "It's something from his past... from before he met me."

"What happened?" Robin asked, shutting her book, now fully invested. "From the start, if you don't mind."

You nodded, looking down at your lap and recalling the events of the last hour.

"I was doing my daily meditation on the roof of the crow's nest, y'know, like I always do, when I was suddenly hit with a vision," you started. "Now, it didn't come as harshly as the others typically do, so I assumed that it was going to be about something trivial. But that changed when a young Zoro suddenly came into view."

The women sat quietly, listening intently as they took in each word.

"He was training, super aggressively, mind you, when all of a sudden this group of kids comes running up to him asking when he was going to stop."

Crossing one leg over the other, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Of course, Zoro being Zoro, said he wasn't gonna finish any time soon, but, and get this, the kids say But you're gonna miss your birthday party!"

Nami and Robin gasped, eyes widening slightly.

It was common knowledge that the swordsman wasn't very fond of birthdays—or rather his birthday, specifically.

Whenever asked about it, he often dodged the question, or just ignored it altogether, not bothering with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's chaotic antics in trying to get him to spill the beans.

Even you were unsuccessful, the man managing to smoothly redirect the conversation with the rough timbre of his voice, knowing it distracted you easily, along with other physical means.

Eventually, you gave up hope, seeing as you didn't even have a clue as to what season the day fell in.

But now... you had a date.

And it was today.

"I know he hates it, but I can't just sit on this," you whined, slumping in the chair. "Before, it wasn't like I could do anything because I didn't know when. But now that I do, I can't in clear conscience do nothing for his birthday..."

"I'm not sure," Robin sighed, quizzically. "There might be a reason why he doesn't celebrate. Maybe something bad happened and caused him to hate the day."

"Or maybe he's just being his typical, difficult self?" Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes before turning to you. "I think it's sweet that you wanna do something nice for him. And I know exactly what you need to do in order to make this the best day of his life!"

Confused, you watched as she leaned over, reaching under her chair and grabbing a book bound with rich, wine-colored leather, the image of a muscular man with extremely long hair and billowing shirt on the cover.

"A book?" you raised a brow. "Zoro's... not really a reader. Especially not something like this."

"No, silly. What's inside the book."

"Paper?"

"Romance."

With an exasperated sigh, she flipped through a couple pages, eyes lighting up when she found the page she was looking for.

"This novel is like a playbook on how to seduce a man," she happily handed it over, allowing you to skim over the text. "Follow that scene to the letter, and you'll have him counting down the minutes until his next birthday. I guarantee it."

"Are you sure?" your nose scrunched slightly at the cheesiness, confused as to why the author kept on mentioning the love interest's rippling pectorals. "This isn't really my style..."

"Trust me!" she grinned, giving you a soft pat on the back. "It's foolproof."

Glancing toward Robin for confirmation, she could only shrug, resting her hands in her lap.

"You know Zoro the best... Do what you think suits both you and him," she advised. "Even if that means trying something new."

Closing the book, your eyes found their way to the cover, your mouth fighting off the urge to stick out its tongue at the sight of the man's chiseled smolder.

He looked more like a girl than you...

"I'll take your word for it."

"(y/n)?" Zoro called, knocking on the door to the women's quarters before carefully pushing it open, slightly frustrated to find that you were, once again, not there.

Well, at least that eliminates the cabin...

Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned around, opting to shift his search toward the deck.

'Where the hell did she run off to?'

It was late, and the swordsman had been searching for the past twenty minutes, having already been through the kitchen, the dining room, the sick bay, the aquarium, the library, and the workrooms, with still no trace of you.

This, of course, was very odd considering you were usually within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.

Not only that, but also the fact that he hadn't seen you all day, seeing as Usopp dragged all the men along on a Boys Day Out.

Though, Zoro didn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.

He knew a million times over that you were a strong and capable woman, and that if anything were to happen, you could more than adequately hold your own.

But for some odd reason, reminding himself of this fact wasn't subduing the concern spiking in his chest.

'Dammit...'

He had to find you and kill this feeling before he could think any deeper into it.

"(y/n)!" he called, looking around as he walked out on deck. "(y/n)!"

When he was no response, he simply tried again, not planning on stopping until you revealed yourself.

"Will you shut up?!" Nami groaned from her spot from one of the lounge chairs, brows furrowed as she looked up from her maps. "You sound like a lost little puppy."

Zoro rolled his eyes at her theatrics, turning to face her.

"Where's (y/n)?" he asked, curtly.

"She's in the crow's nest," the navigator stated, simply, turning her attention back to the papers strewn over her lap. "Said something about waiting for you... though I'm sure you're too busy ruining the peaceful atmosphere."

Sassily, she flipped one of the parchments over, lazily skimming over its contents.

"Mosshead..."

The man scoffed, expression turning sour at the obvious jab.

"If you'd told me where she was sooner, I wouldn't have shouted!"

"If you'd asked me where she was sooner, I would've told you!"

"Whatever!"

He turned away in a huff, walking over to the ladder and grabbing onto the cool metal.

"Good luck!" Nami called, cheekily, waving as he left. "You're gonna need it!"

"The hell?" he grumbled, starting his trek to the crow's nest, muttering to himself in confusion as he approached the top.

He would never understand her...

Hoisting himself up on the balcony, his brow quirked at the soft hum of music coming from the other side of the wall.

'Music?'

Confused, he listened closer, slowly beginning to make out the sound of a saxophone, which was playing over a smooth jazz background.

You never listened to music when you worked out, much less the sultry nonsense flowing through his ears.

And even though he could hear that, he had yet to hear you grunt out a rep, or rack a weight.

What the hell was going on with everyone today?

Curiosity piqued, he opened the door, eyes widening and heart dropping to his ass at the sight that met him on the other side.

Somehow, the crow's nest had been turned into some sort of makeshift love den, the lights dimmed and the mat area lined with lush pillows and fur blankets, candles illuminating the surrounding area and incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.

And there, in the middle of it all, sat an angel...

Zoro's breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your naked form.

You were laying on your side, delicious curves on display in the smallest, tightest leather corset he'd ever seen, your tits practically spilling out the top.

Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully down your side, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hand an itch to tug it.

Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smooth and soft and primed for grabbing.

And your dark wings only added to the appeal.

The soft music seemed to be coming from a small transponder snail in the corner, its eyes turned toward the wall in hopes of protecting its innocence from the events to come.

"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What're you doing?"

You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.

"Being... sexy?"

Zoro paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before breaking into a small fit of chuckles.

Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in.

You knew this was stupid!

"Don't laugh, you ass! I was trying to surprise you!" you whined, abruptly sitting up, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You found out it was my birthday today, didn't you?" he cut to the chase, stalking forward. "And then Nami put you up to this?"

The dots were all connecting.

Usopp keeping him off the ship.

You going missing.

Nami's odd comment.

You were trying to seduce him as a birthday present.

Not that he was complaining...

Your lip jutted out in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.

"I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, but Nami gave me some book that was supposed to explain exactly what men want... and I figured you still deserved something nice..." you limply explained, turning away from him. "But, in hindsight, it was stupid..."

Sitting down in front of you, his pointer and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him, where you were met with a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It was sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "Even if you look anything but sweet right now... I can tell you put a lot of effort into this."

You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.

"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.

Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.

All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared at your gorgeous, doe eyes.

"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.

And you could only let out a tiny gasp before he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss wasn't soft or careful.

The kiss was rough; hungry; slow as he drew moans and gasps out of you.

He kissed you like he hadn't done so in ages, and you were starting to believe he hadn't.

His lips were soft, the taste of sake and mint on his tongue.

You let his hand move along your back and ass, roughly squeezing the flesh and making you moan.

Taking advantage over your open mouth, he slid his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping it inside in your mouth.

He grunted hungrily as your tongue began to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath.

The act made your pussy clench impatiently behind the leather, wanting to be touched and treated.

By him.

Zoro then pulled away enough to speak, eyes hooded and dark.

"Where'd you get this little number from?" he murmured hotly against your lips, calloused hands coming up to roughly knead your hips, feeling up the fabric under his fingertips. "Tell me."

One of his hands snuck down to squeeze your ass, and you let him, biting back a whimper in the process.

"W-Went into town," you softly stuttered. "Bought the outfit the girl was wearing in the book."

He started to line kisses all over your jaw, hungrily moving down to your neck; your collarbone; and your naked shoulders.

"Fuck," he growled into your skin. "Too damn good to be true."

His hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling.

"Been wantin' your fine ass since I walked in here..."

"You like it—?" The rest of your question doesn't leave your lips as he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you toward him, so close that air couldn't even move between you.

Your bodies were pressed flushed against each other, so close that you can feel the painfully hard bulge in his robe.

He was turned on by you.

He was really turned on by you.

That fact made you delirious.

His lips pressed against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth was beginning to turn raw.

He began to settle himself among the pillows and blankets, never breaking the kiss, before plopping down on the nearest, largest cushion.

Then, he gripped your hips and coaxed you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him.

Instinctively, you ground down into his hardening member, enlisting a groan from deep within his throat.

The sound traveled straight to your core.

You wanted more.

"I want you, Zoro," you sultrily whispered in a sudden burst of confidence, manicured hands gliding over his strong shoulders. "Please... I don't think I can wait."

To show how serious you were, your hands came up to undo the laces on your back, freeing your chest for him to see.

The shock in his steel gray eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he caught a full view of your perfect tits, sitting there just waiting to be touched.

"You little minx..." he chuckled, amused. "Lemme get a feel of you first."

You bit your lip as he leaned forward, laying you down against the brown, furry blanket before prying your legs open.

And there he got a good look of your sobbing wet pussy, the crotch of your leather suit having been cut out.

Eyes widening at the sight, he looked almost pained.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Christ, (y/n)..." he hissed, leaning down to get a better look, gaping at your sex. "You tryin' t'kill me?"

His eyes flicked up to yours, hands still on your thighs.

'Okay?' his eyes asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak.

But that wasn't gonna slide.

Slowly, he began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reaction.

"Words, pretty," he growled. "Gimme words."

"Yes!" you moaned, toes curling at the feeling of his fingers on your cunt. "Please, Zo'... please touch me."

He gave you a wolfish grin at your pitiful whines, but didn't keep you waiting.

Swooping down, he captured your clit in his mouth, suckling and eating your pussy like a starving man.

He was relentless with his tongue slashed, flicks and long licks up and down your slit.

And you loved it.

Your hips writhed and whined against his mouth, trying to get him closer.

Your pussy pushed past his soft lips, which drew mindless shapes and nonsense words across your needy core.

"You're so wet," he mumbled into your pussy. "Doin' all this in your little suit turns you on that much, pretty?"

You moaned in response, unable to form words, especially when he reached one hand up to play with your breast.

And it only got better when Zoro began to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy.

"You want this?" he asked, voice nothing but a low growl.

You nodded vigorusly, pulling a laugh from the man's lips.

"So needy," he teased as he began to slowly slid his finger inside of you. "S'been a while since we fooled around... Have I not been takin' care of this pussy?"

"Y—!" you gasped, eyes blown wide as you felt your pussy stretch around three, thick fingers.

He aimed up to brush against your clit as he slid his fingers in and out of you, while also leaning down to suck on it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You could feel yourself quickly beginning to reach your peak.

'No! Not like this!'

"Wait, Zoro!" you whined, writhing against him. "Not yet!"

He immediately ceased his movement and pulled away from you, glaring confusingly.

"'Scuse me?" he asked, not sounding happy with your protest.

You nearly laughed at his reaction.

"It's your birthday," you explained. "I'm 'sposed to be the one making you feel good. So lay down."

Zoro still looked pissed he couldn't make you cum, but listened anyway.

He laid down, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you moved to sit on top of him.

Slowly, you began to kiss and suck your essence off of his mouth, earning low groans from him

Your hands slid down to his broad chest and you gripped his robe.

"Off please?" you asked, peering up at him through your lashes.

You don't have to ask twice.

In a flash, he tugged his arms out his sleeves, pushing his robe and haramaki down to leave him in just his boxers.

You took a moment to admire his beautiful body—so hard and defined with muscle and scars, his lower stomach sinewy with green hair.

He was so, so gorgeous.

Slowly, you glided your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs.

"You're perfect," you whispered before leaning in to peck his scars, running your lips softly over each.

The low moans and mmms Zoro let slide out his mouth were delicious to you.

They only heighten your arousal, along with the music still playing in the background.

You never pictured yourself getting off on a scene like this, but you supposed it took the right person to bring the freak out of you.

Smoothly, you began to kiss down his hardened stomach until you came down to his boxers, which were already hanging low on his hips.

"Fuck, baby," he hummed, watching you work.

His lips were parted and his eyes were hooded, completely entranced by you.

Finally ridding him of his underwear, you began to think you bit off more than you could chew—or suck, rather—when you get a look at his cock for the first time in weeks.

Lately, between your training schedules and antics with the crew, the two of you had barely had a moment to yourselves.

But you never thought you'd forget how well-endowed he was, dick thick and curved slightly to the left, green hair curling around his stomach and pubic area.

"Hasn't been that long, has it?" he chuckled, teasingly, raising a brow. "You havin' second thoughts?"

"No..." you scoffed, cheeks puffed.

Not wanting to disappoint him, you opened your mouth and slowly began to slide his dick against your tongue.

"There we go," he cooed, relaxing into the blanket. "Good girl... take it all in."

You followed his instruction, your jaw and mouth stretching to accommodate his size.

"Mmm-hmm," you hummed around his cock, he vibrations causing him to moan.

You relished the sounds, wanting more, so you began to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out your throat.

You gagged and spat all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy.

And Zoro was eating up every second.

He tossed his head back as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, giving you sight that you took a mental snapshot of for a rainy day.

He was so, so sexy.

And to be able to make him feel good gave you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continued to fuck him with your throat.

"Doin' so good, baby," he grunted, rolling his hips into your mouth. "So good for me..."

But to your surprise, he suddenly pulled his cock out your mouth.

"But if I'm gonna cum, it's either gonna be on that pretty ass or those pretty' tits ."

You smirked, sitting up and lacing your hand with his, "How about inside?" you purred.

You'd already gotten the hook-ups from Chopper, though embarrassing, and were stocked full of necessary precautions.

And, of course, that was all you needed to say to get Zoro to smash his lips hungrily against yours.

"This gift jus' keeps gettin' better and better," he cheekily growled against your mouth, flipping you both over and laying you down on the brown fur. "Now choose how I'm doin' you before I do it for you."

Not wasting any time, you laid down on your stomach, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him as you moved a pillow under your hips.

You then looked back at him, only to find him sitting there and stroking himself to the sight of you.

"Like this," you whispered, breathlessly. "Fuck me just like this, Zo'."

Zoro was going fucking feral behind you, and it took everything in his being not to shove his entire length in side you as he began to move closer.

"God, look at you... stainin' the cushions," he sighed as he began to rub your pussy with his cock. "Sittin' nice and pretty just for me..."

Starting out, he went in slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him.

As soon as his tip entered you, your jaw dropped and your eyes blew wide from the stretch.

No one could ever compare to how warm and solid Zoro felt snuggled up in your pussy.

No one.

You were so glad you had the fur of the blanket to grip at he took a hold of your hips and bottomed out inside of you.

"F-Fuck, Zoro!" you whined, burying your face in the pillows.

He began to bump his hips against yours a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit.

"C'mon, now, pretty," he huffed. "Y'said you were my present, yeah? Be a good girl and take me then. Make me proud."

He moved to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your ass before giving it a harsh slap.

The feeling was just too much.

He was so deep.

Your eyes were seeing stars, ones that far surpassed the ones lining the night sky.

You had no chance to comprehend anything, too busy taking Zoro's fat cock as he fucked you into oblivion in your little leather, corset.

"Feels good, don't it?" he grunted in your ear.

One of his hands moved to smack your ass again, a wanton moan ripping from your throat.

"Bet you've dreamed about this," he growled at you. "Bet you couldn't wait until I got home tonight."

He leaned down toward you, his lips grazing your ear.

"Bet you've been waiting to get split on my dick for so long."

"Gods, Zoro, yes!" you screamed out to the heavens, fisting the blanket for dear life as he fucked you harder.

You'd never felt like this before; so gone.

Your eyes are closed and your mind is blank, only able to thing of the man towering above you, turned dumb by the waves of pleasure washing over you.

The pleasure was just too good, and you could feel it beginning to build in your core.

"M'gonna cum!" you practically sobbed, your head thrown back. "Zoro!"

The man let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, slightly hiking up his leg to get a better angle.

"Me, too," he grunted. "Want you to take it."

He pressed his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick hit that spot that had you seeing the entire universe behind your eyes.

"Fuckin' cum for me, pretty," he demanded. "Let me know how good I'm makin' you feel."

And you do.

Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that coil in your stomach finally snapped.

You unraveled, cumming all over Zoro's dick.

"Oh, my Gods!" you screamed, voice reaching the high heavens.

Your eyes spilled tears of ecstasy as he talked you through it, telling you how good of a girl you were as he stroked your outer thighs.

"Gonna cum, too," he grunted, hips snapping aganist your ass again and again as he chased his high. "You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?"

"Y-Yes!" you choked out, tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to make him feel good, too.

He gripped your hips for dear life and came deep inside you with husky, loud moan that made your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

You took every ounce he had to offer, not once pulling away.

You could feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curled your toes and gasped at the feeling coursing through your body.

Finally, Zoro's hips began to slow until he finally came to a stop, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

But he wasn't done.

Still hard, he slid his head over your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum.

"So you smell like me," he grunted. "No other man'll even try."

You let out a weak, spent moan as your hips finally dropped, Zoro finally releasing his hold on you as he flopped to your side.

Grabbing you, he pulled your body into him, allowing you to snuggle into his side as he grabbed the blanket, wrapping you both in its warmth.

With the adrenaline now wearing off, and you so limp in his grasp, he began to worry, glancing down at you with a hint of concern

"You alright?" he carefully asked, slightly nudging you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You slowly shook your head, still in a daze.

"That was amazing," you sighed, pressing further into his warm side. "Best I ever had..."

A proud smile stretched across Zoro's face, chest puffing slightly at the praise.

"So... did this make your birthday a little better?" you nervously asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Grinning, he gave you two kisses on your cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"It did," he hummed contently. "By a hell of a lot more than a little."

Yes!

Internally, you gave yourself a huge high five, insanely proud that Mission: Mosshead was a success.

And now, you believed you deserved some snuggles in return.

"Cuddle with me?" you cooed, looking up at him through your lashes.

Zoro chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

"Such a baby," he teased, securely wrapping his muscled arms around you, squeezing. "You're lucky I like you."

"Just like?"

"You know what I mean."

"I think I wanna hear you say it."

"I think I wanna take a nap."

"Zoro..."

"(y/n)..."

"Happy birthday."

"I love you."

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zorosangell #op

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hotheadedhero · 1 month ago

Text

Baby Bump

AN: A little insight to how the turtles are during your pregnancy because, I dunno, it's cute to think about and fever got me rn

2003 Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Whilst Leo is sensible and typically thinks before he acts, he once made the sore mistake of telling you to calm down when hormones were particularly unforgiving. He had only meant to ease you in the gentlest way possible but it wasn't taken as such. You could have given Raph a run for his money, jeez. That being said, the brother in question did have some sage advice to give in that when things are already wracking your nerves, the last thing you need to hear is 'calm down'. He supposes he should have known that but he isn't used to you wearing a short fuse.

That has been by-the-by now and it's clear that a lot is going on the closer you get to the nine-month mark. He doesn't want you to get stressed out. There's no imagining the strains your body must be going through, so he makes a point of eliminating as much hassle as possible. Need peace and quiet? He'll take his brothers top side to give you space. Chores and general responsibilities that require a lot of movement? A thing of the past. He took on your share of duties as soon as your bump started to show.

Expect frequent pampering and looking after from this man, some of which is in the form of meditation. His favourite way of doing this is with you sitting facing one another, close enough so the feet and knees of your crossed legs are touching. In this particular session, you're having a little more trouble clearing your mind. It seems someone is a little active in making their presence known, kicking and poking against the inside of your belly. Leo peeks an eye open, breathing a short chuckle, and places his hand on your stomach.

In almost an instant, the baby stops and settles, leaving you both with a widened stare in each other's direction. Seems the message came across. Whether it's pure coincidence or not, it makes his heart melt and his pride grow. There's still some time to go before he gets to meet this bundle of joy but he's already so proud.

Raphael

Raph likes to carry you around when you're too tired to do so yourself. Does this change as the bump grows? Like hell, it does. Despite how much you insist that you're too heavy, he continues to carry you from place to place. It's like killing two birds with one stone: your feet can get some rest and he can make his flirtatious remarks about how much you love his strength. Try as you may to refute this, he's quick to remind you of how you got pregnant in the first place. That always shuts you up.

With how big your belly has gotten, his current favourite way of cuddling is when you're sat on his lap, back pressed against his chest, so that he can rub your stomach and keep you both close to him. It's the perfect means to lull you to sleep for those long days of carrying the baby around. Although, it gives him amble opportunity to think, to envision this future, and worse of all to get worried.

What if this kid doesn't like him? What if he doesn't like this kid? He isn't exactly well-versed with children and this isn't something he can practise for either. He thinks about how difficult he was growing up, how much trouble he caused, and if karma will bestow him the same treatment. That would just be his luck, wouldn't it?

Too scared to bring up the subject with you, Mikey's the only one who manages to get it through his skull that there are going to be difficulties. No family is perfect, especially them, and everyone here seems to be pretty happy, right? Right. He can hardly argue with that, even if it is advice from his bonehead of a brother. Raphael can't anticipate what this lifestyle is going to be like but the two of you are in it together, always.

Donatello

The stereotype that the soon-to-be mum is the one who gets in a tizzy about keeping tabs on the baby's progress couldn't be more wrong in this instance. Not to say that Donatello has been stir-crazy on the whole thing - at least not since you kindly suggested that he need not worry so much - but he's been taking all of the precautionary measures to ensure you and your shared creation are safe and healthy. Good thing technology has its collective perks once again; tracking with you every step of the way with this baby app you both downloaded.

He may or may not have taken the liberty of making an ultrasound machine from old hospital equipment he's found in several junk yards. Don't worry, everything has been sanitised to perfect cleanliness for your benefit and safety. He wouldn't want to feed into the irony by making you ill by trying to help. The only mishaps are when he almost blows himself up but what's new? Your heart swells with affection for the turtle who is so dedicated to making this experience special, even if it means there are a few mechanical hiccups along the way.

Whilst the aid of machines is sweet and all, you do assure him that he's enough without them. Bless the eccentric genius for what he does but in doing all of this, he actually ends up spending a little less time with you than you would hope.

That's when he gets into massages. He knows what methods are best for rolling out those tight muscles but identifying which parts of the body are suffering most is where he's a little stumped. Luckily, when it comes to pressure points, Leo has plenty of sage advice to give on that one, along with aligning your chakras, and it's come in handy. Donnie isn't sure you've ever melted so much into him.

Michelangelo

It's been a learning experience for you both as to be expected but there are so many things that Mikey wouldn't have even thought about with you being pregnant. Mood swings were to be expected but not of this magnitude. Thankfully, if they're particularly bad, you're never short of a good distraction and a laugh when it comes to this guy. He'll do anything for his special lady. At least, where he can.

What he's disliked the most from your list of tribulations is how nauseous you get. Worst of all it's when you go off certain foods completely. That's why he's put so much time into figuring out new recipes and trying to make sense of all this dietary stuff. If he's being honest, all the vitamin mumbo jumbo has been the most confusing part of it.

No worries! Big bro Donnie is here to save the day by simply listing what foods should work best and what your body really needs - mostly folic acid and electrolytes. He has no idea what these things are, even after browsing the internet, but the main matter is making sure you get them in your system. Hey, he's never one to turn down new recipes for his portfolio, so it's an added win. The real win here, in your eyes, is the fact that he's applied all of this for the sake of looking after you.

He's been excited about showing your baby all of his comic books but he's too impatient for his own good. During the evenings, he'll read his comics to your bump, describing the pictures and making sound effects to help create the image. Rest assured, you're probably going to have a little comic book lover in the making.

Splinter has been a quiet observer, feeling ever so proud of his son for taking to oncoming fatherhood as naturally as he had himself all those years ago. It isn't without its hiccups but this is a journey full of both wonderful and scary learning experiences, even before the arrival of little feet. There's a lot to prepare for.

As a soon-to-be grandfather, he'll do his part to make sure you are comfortable. Most of this involves checking on you when he can and calming teas to keep your mind and soul calm. And, perhaps, the odd soap or two on TV for when the boys are making their rounds on the surface. It's a small pass time but one he thoroughly enjoys partaking in whilst keeping you company and it goes without saying that you feel the same, thankful for his like-mindedness for the domestic simplicities.

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avatar-anna · 10 months ago

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i’ve been thinking about hockeyrry lately and then i see this…. now all i can think about is hockeyrry having an argument with yn and having to do promo after a game, when all he really wants to do is find his gf and make up with cuddles and kisses :(((

this turned out to be a lot longer and not the short/cute little blurb i initially planned. enjoy more shenanigans from hockey harry and skater reader!

Hockey player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

"So, Harry, what are your thoughts on the team's performance tonight?"

You watched the screen in front of you begrudgingly, sticking your spoon in your bowl of ice cream and eating it, perhaps a little too aggressively. But you didn't change the channel, not wanting to miss a moment of Harry on camera, no matter how much he drove you crazy sometimes.

The fight had been brief, but arguments were something you and Harry were rather good at, and this one was no different. Harry ended up leaving for his game in a huff as you rolled your eyes at his back, and even though you were more than slightly pissed off, you sat down to watch his game on TV anyway.

His team won, but barely. Harry's mind was clearly elsewhere—he took more penalties than necessary and even more checks against the boards, each slam of his body against the plexiglass making you tense up. He clearly had been in two places at once, and for that, you felt guilty. Your argument wasn't inconsequential, and you intended to finish it less intensely when he came home, but now that you'd simmered a bit you regretted fighting with Harry right before he left, as it clearly affected his performance on the ice tonight.

"Obviously, we didn't play our best," Harry said into the interviewer's microphone. "I'm certainly disappointed in myself. In more ways than one."

His poor eyes were tired, bags hanging beneath them, his nose red and irritated. And his voice was hoarse too, unlike the way it normally was when he first woke up in the morning. From that to his pale skin, you could've sworn Harry had gotten sick in the few hours he'd been gone.

"How do you unwind after a game that was tough both physically and mentally like tonight?"

Harry rubbed a tired hand over his entire face. He was polite, but you could tell a post-game interview was the last place he wanted to be. "Erm, just go home. Rest, meditate, I guess."

"Meditate? You meditate? Can you walk us through that process?"

"Uh..." You watched Harry visibly deflate on camera but stay where he was. With a sniffle, he continued. "There's not much to it. Just measured breathing, peace and quiet, and going to bed early."

"Well, we won't keep you from your post-game meditation, Harry. Just one last question!"

You watched the interview wrap up and the sports channel switch over to a broadcast of a different game. Waiting for him to come home, you began to prepare for bed. You set out Harry's softest sweats and favorite crew neck, put new essential oils in the diffuser by his bed, and a new box of tissues along with a steaming mug of tea. You were almost positive he was sick, and when Harry was sick...he became something of a little baby. But he was your baby to take care of, even if you had just been arguing a few hours ago.

A little while later, the lock clicked and the sound of shuffling feet echoed through the apartment. A cough and a sniffle followed, and you could already picture his curls flopping against Harry's forehead clumsily as he rubbed his hand against his nose, the green of his eyes bright against tired redness.

"Y/n?" he called. "I'm sorry about our fight earlier. I know we left things on a sour note, but can we press pause on it for now and pick it up on it in a few days? I'm not feeling—"

"It's fine, H," you said, appearing from your bedroom. Your eyes softened as you took in his rumpled suit, the jacket slung over his arm in a heap. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming down with something?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know I was. It was just a little throat scratch when I left here, and then—"

He stopped to cough, and you could see him wince as if it hurt his chest. Taking the jacket and duffle bag off his shoulder, you set it down and took his hand, squeezing it as the coughing fit ended. You pulled him down the hall toward your bedroom, ignoring his questions and protests until they stopped when you finally reached the threshold.

"What's all this?" Harry asked, hooded eyes sleepily scanning everything you'd set up.

"Change. Lie down. I'll bring dinner in a few minutes."

"For me?" he said, a little smirk stretching across his face. "You never cook."

"Don't get too excited, it's canned soup," you said, feeling flustered beneath his stare all of a sudden.

You did things for Harry, of course you did. Was it a bad thing that he seemed surprised that you wanted to take care of him? A few years ago, sure, but things were different now. It was only occasionally now that you found him irritating. He was only teasing you, and honestly, you would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

Leaving Harry to change, you got started on heating up his soup. He probably should've had something more substantial than soup from a can, but you hadn't completely ruled out him having the flu yet and wanted to air on the side of caution.

Once everything was set—hot soup, a cup of tea, and some medicine all arranged on a tray—you brought it to the bedroom and set it on Harry's lap. He smiled tiredly at you, mumbling his thanks before digging in. You watched him eat, unsure of what else you should do in the meantime. Harry had asked when he came home to press pause on the argument you'd had before his game, but now you didn't know what to say, argument or otherwise. You wondered if the silence between you and him was only awkward in your mind and not his, or if he was merely hiding his frustration from earlier with you while you doted on him. You didn't want to pick up where the two of you had left off before his game, but it didn't seem right to leave things unfinished, unresolved. Harry certainly didn't seem to notice or betray his own emotions as he sipped on his tea and sniffled between bites of his dinner.

"I'll get you some more blankets."

Before he could respond, you were off the bed, shuffling down the hallway toward the closet where the extra linens were kept.

You felt like you had to keep busy. You told Harry the argument was forgotten, but you couldn't help but feel as though there were words left unspoken between the two of you. And perhaps part of you felt guilty too. The argument started out as a heated discussion, but you let your temper get the best of you, so instead of getting to the bottom of things, you ended up yelling and taunting and refusing to listen. Harry hadn't been a saint in any of it either, you both had a competitive streak, and that extended to disagreements. But this was different. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn't even notice your boyfriend was sick.

Shaking your head, you grabbed the extra blankets and went back into the bedroom.

Not saying a word, you took the tray and set it on the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed. You wrapped him up with more blankets, piling them on until only his face peeked through. Harry grinned at you, his nose and cheeks rosy and eyes only slightly drooping from fatigue. You ignored him, making sure he was properly wrapped before pressing a hand to his forehead to check for fever.

"You're fussing," Harry said, his voice only slightly teasing. "You never fuss."

"Shut up," you muttered, turning around on your heel and taking the tray out of the room.

"Don't be long!" he called, and you could practically feel the grin as you walked away.

Harry was right, of course. You were fussing. Perhaps you were trying to make up for the things you said earlier, for picking a fight with him when you knew he had to leave for his game, though that had been precisely the problem.

Proud didn't even begin to cover how you felt regarding his career. Harry worked so hard, had come so far in such a short period. In what felt like a quick few years, he had become a superstar on the ice, taking the NHL by storm and absolutely dominating his competition. Harry deserved every bit of praise from reporters and journalists, every standing ovation from adoring fans, every interaction from young hockey players who looked up to him. No one deserved it more than Harry, but the bigger he became, the more famous he got, it seemed as though he had less and less time for you.

You knew that being in a relationship with him wouldn't be a walk in the park, you were familiar with the traveling and the long seasons and everything else that came with being in a semi-long distance relationship with an athlete. You and Harry had been together since college, you'd done it and survived it, but this...this was completely different.

The minor leagues were manageable. Harry had a busier schedule than he did in school, but the two of you made it work. When he made it to the NHL, you realized that busy didn't even begin to cover it. Press conferences before games, interviews after games, sponsorship deals, longer seasons, charity games, international tournaments—all of it was one big whirlwind that hit your relationship before you could blink. And you would've been able to withstand all of it if you could see him just a little bit more.

That had been the crux of your argument. You hadn't planned on fighting with Harry about it while he was on his way out to get to the arena, but he'd mentioned being home late to do a couple extra interviews, and you just couldn't hold it in anymore.

Returning to your bedroom, you started getting ready for bed. A freshly washed face, brushed teeth, and one of Harry's old university sweatshirts later, and you were sliding into your side, back facing Harry. You could feel him, feel the heat of all those blankets you'd wrapped around him. But you could feel the heavy weight of his stare too, as if he was wordlessly trying to get you to turn around.

"I'm sensing this is some form of punishment," he said. His voice didn't sound as scratchy as it had been when he came home, which you took as a good sign.

"What is?" you asked.

"You wrapping me like a burrito. I can't hold you like this."

You smiled, the image of him frowning down at the plethora of blankets you swaddled him in appearing in your mind.

"You were shivering."

"Was I? I can't recall," Harry said. "I feel like I'm in a furnace now, though."

"That's good. Your fever probably broke."

"You know, as much as I love talking to the back of your lovely head, I'd appreciate it a lot more if I could talk to your even lovelier face."

Taking your time, you rolled over, making sure he saw the amusement on your face. The grin on his own merely brightened, and you hoped he didn't notice you blush.

"Flattery won't get you out of those blankets, Styles," you finally said.

"No, but maybe it'll get you in them with me, soon-to-be-Styles."

Your hand went reflexively to your left hand to fiddle with your engagement ring. You hadn't had it long, but fiddling with it quickly became a habit you intended to keep. The proposal had been a surprise, but it felt right at the same time, as if without really needing to say it, you and Harry were both ready to take that next step. And you couldn't lie, Harry had done an immaculate job with the ring even though you'd never really mentioned what you might be interested in. It was emerald cut, a classic in your opinion, but a light green sapphire instead of a diamond in the middle. "I don't know, you mentioned something about blood diamonds a few months ago and thought you might appreciate something different," Harry had said by way of explanation.

You used to find it annoying—frustrating, even—how much Harry seemed to know you, but the night he proposed—at home after spending a whole afternoon together that he'd planned from start to finish—you thought he was nothing short of perfect.

"Are we okay?" you asked out of the blue, though not really. Thinking about the proposal, the wedding, made you realize that maybe you shouldn't go to bed with an unresolved argument with your fiance.

Harry sighed. "I hope so. I'm sorry. I should've realized how lonely you've been lately. I know this...lifestyle...isn't always the easiest to live with."

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have unloaded on you right before you left. I know how important it is to have a clear head before a game."

"You're important to me, Y/n," he said. Harry struggled for a moment as he tried to free an arm from his blanket cocoon, muttering to himself about your hidden talent for blanket wrapping. You let out a watery laugh as you watched him struggle, then helped him peel the blankets back until he was entirely free. Sitting up, Harry pulled you to him, his hand cupping your cheek. "Now, where were we?"

"Allegedly, I'm important to you," you said, the corner of your mouth tipping up.

"Glad you're in higher spirits," Harry murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. His eyes flitted over your face as if he could read everything you weren't saying, and you were sure he did. He had a knack for that kind of thing. "I should know how much time I've been taking away from you. From us. I'm sorry."

"I know you don't have much control over your game schedule, but I just feel like never see you anymore. I just want—I just want more time with you, that's all. I'm sorry it came out the way it did."

Harry shook his head, used to your tendency to hold your feelings in until they barreled out of you. It was something you were working on, you were only thankful Harry stuck around long enough until you figured it out.

"I know you are. I'm glad you told me, though. Or yelled it at me."

Face flushing, you said, "Sorry. I'm...working on it."

"I know," Harry said, chuckling as he kissed your cheek. "But I don't mind. I love fighting with you."

"I'm so glad," you mumbled.

Laying Harry back down across the bed, you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his cheek and his neck, his skin warm but not feverish. The skin of his cheek was soft against your lips, making you nuzzle your nose deeper into him. Your legs tangled with his as Harry nestled deeper into your arms. Easing up just a little, you leaned back enough to run a hand through his hair, making sure your nails scratched against his scalp the way he liked it.

"Mm. This is almost better than makeup sex," he murmured.

Leaning forward, you nipped at the shell of Harry's ear. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey. I said almost."

You chuckled quietly in his ear before placing another little kiss to his temple. Nudging him with his nose one more time, you said, "Maybe after the playoff season is over, we can go somewhere. Somewhere warm. Maybe even tropical. You can take some time off once the season is officially over, right?"

"I do love seeing you in a bikini—Ow! What? You want me to lie?" Harry said, crying out when you pinched his side.

"You're such a guy sometimes, I swear," you grumbled.

Harry's face split into a grin, and you could feel it as you kept nuzzling his cheek. "So I find my fiance attractive. Since when is that a crime?"

"Someone's feeling better all of a sudden." You began to untangle yourself from Harry, but he held you in place. When you tried to wriggle away from him, he held you in place, wrapping around you like moss on a limb until he had you pinned to the mattress.

"Don't act like you don't like it," he said. "Or that you don't think the same things about me."

"Aren't you sick? Go to sleep!" you said, trying not to smile as he began to kiss you all over just like you'd been doing to him.

"Admit it or you're not getting a vacation," he taunted, his kisses along your neck becoming longer, more languid.

Oh, I'll be getting my vacation, you thought. Whether you played into Harry's hands tonight or not, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

When Harry raised his head and his gaze finally met yours, you raised a single brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. I don't scare that easily, you know that," he said, though when your brow arched just a little bit higher, he sighed and pressed one last kiss to your forehead. "Fine then. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that I find you more attractive than you do me."

"Oh brother," you groaned as you leaned across Harry to turn the lamp on his nightstand off.

Harry's only response was a very pointed sniff into the dark, which made you roll your eyes.

It was quiet as the both of you settled down. It was clear Harry expended the little energy he had, as the sniffles and coughs came back a few minutes after you turned the lights off. Shuffling back over to him, you snuck a hand under his shirt and began running it gently up and down his back. Once again carding your other hand through his hair, you felt him relax a little.

You exhaled deeply, settling in close to Harry and cuddling into the warmth of his body. "Get some rest, H," you murmured, your hand still moving steadily along his back.

You stayed awake until Harry's breaths evened and slowed as he began to snore softly. Your own eyes began to droop, comforted by your fiance's closeness and the resolution you'd been seeking since he'd stormed out of the house earlier today.

It could be worse, you supposed. Of all the people in the world to argue with, you were happy Harry was the one. If this was the outcome every time—minus Harry's illness, of course—you couldn't help but look forward to the rest of your life with him.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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httpvomitello · 2 months ago

Note

Loved the request of the boys with an so with an evil turtle pet! Donnie especially cuz, ya know, he’s a soft shell and the evil turtle from TAWOG is a soft shell

Inspired by that but can I request how the rude boys would react to an S/O who has a pet cat, which is usually a very shy pet, that instantly warms up to the turtles. Turtles are sitting down? Cat is curling up in their lap. Turtle is leaving the room? They’ve now got a fuzzy sidekick mewing after them. Turtle is working out? The cat sits on their shells if they do push ups

ALSO the cat playing with the ends of their bandanna tails like it’s a ribbon toy!

Just general fluffy cute pet shenanigans if that’s okay!

Owwn, that's cute! Fun fact: i have a black cat named Donnie from TMNT and he's my adorable baby. Anyways, i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Leo wasn’t exactly a cat person—he wasn’t not a cat person, either. He just didn’t expect to win over your shy little furball the moment he stepped into your apartment.

As soon as Leo sat down on your couch, your cat trotted over, tail high, and leapt into his lap. Leo froze, unsure of what to do.

“Uh… hey there,” he said softly, glancing at you for guidance. You stared back in shock.

“He never done that before,” you whispered, amazed.

The cat nuzzled against Leo’s plastron, purring like a little engine. Leo’s serious demeanor melted as he cautiously scratched behind his ears. “Guess I’m a cat whisperer now.”

The real kicker came during his workout the next day, when you decided to pay a visit to the lair and didn't want to leave your baby alone. He was halfway through his push-ups when your cat decided it was the perfect perch, hopping onto his shell like it was a throne.

“You’re not making this any easier,” Leo grunted, but there was a fond smile on his face. Every time he pushed up, the cat swayed slightly but stayed balanced. It seemed to enjoy the ride.

The best part? Your cat loved playing with his bandanna tails. Leo would sit down to meditate, only for the cat to leap out and swat at the trailing fabric like it was the greatest toy ever. Despite his attempts to stay zen, Leo couldn’t help but chuckle.

“He's determined to keep me from finding inner peace,” he’d say, but you knew he secretly loved every second of it.

Raph wasn’t used to animals liking him right away. His gruff exterior usually kept them at bay. But your cat? It was like he saw right through him.

The first time Raph sat down, your cat immediately made a beeline for him, curling up in his lap without a second thought. He raised a brow, looking at you.

“This thing broken or something?” he joked, but you could see the hint of a smile.

The cat kneaded its tiny paws into his thighs, purring so loud it was almost comical. Raph gently petted it, his big hands surprisingly delicate. “Alright, you’re kinda cute,” he admitted under his breath.

Things escalated when Raph started his daily workout. As he cranked out push-ups, your cat decided it was the perfect opportunity to claim his shell as a lounging spot.

“Really?” Raph grunted, pausing mid-push-up. The cat just blinked lazily at him. “You’re not even gonna move, huh?”

Raph ended up doing the rest of his reps with the cat perched proudly on his shell. Later, he tried to act like it was no big deal, but you caught him sneaking little glances at the cat, clearly smitten.

Then there was the bandanna situation. Your cat couldn’t get enough of Raph’s tails, chasing and pouncing on them whenever he walked by. Raph would grumble about it, but you noticed how he started dragging his tails along the floor on purpose just to give the cat a little thrill.

Donnie had read enough about animal behavior to know that cats were naturally cautious creatures. So, when your shy cat immediately climbed into his lap, he was floored.

“Oh,” he said, blinking in surprise as the cat curled up and started purring. “This… this is unexpected.”

You watched, just as shocked. “She don’t usually warm up to people that fast.”

Donnie couldn’t resist analyzing the situation. “It could be my body temperature or the texture of my skin. Fascinating…”

But soon, he was completely distracted by how cute your cat was. He gently scratched under her chin, and the cat melted even more, pressing her head into his hand.

When Donnie worked on his projects, the cat was always nearby, either curled up next to him or batting at his bandanna tails. He tried to shoo it away gently when she started pawing at delicate wires, but he never could stay mad.

Then came the push-ups. Donnie was halfway through his set when he felt a familiar weight on his shell. He sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I’ve got a workout buddy now.”

The cat stayed perfectly balanced as Donnie continued his push-ups. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, and Donnie just shook his head, amused.

“Looks like I’ve been adopted,” he said, clearly pleased about it.

“Duuude, this cat is, like, magnetically drawn to me!” Mikey exclaimed the moment your cat jumped into his lap.

You were stunned. “ Well, that's cute! It's the first time she's approached someone she doesn't know of her own free will.”

Mikey was already smitten, cradling your cat like a baby. “I knew we were destined to be besties,” he cooed, rubbing his cheek against her soft fur. The cat purred loudly, nuzzling into him.

From that moment on, Mikey and your cat were inseparable. If Mikey was in the kitchen, the cat was at his feet, hoping for a snack. If he was gaming, the cat was draped over his lap like a fuzzy blanket.

Workouts were a whole new level of hilarious. As soon as Mikey hit the floor for push-ups, the cat hopped onto his shell, tail flicking as if to say, “This is my spot now.”

“Check it out, babe!” Mikey said, laughing as he did his reps. “Shell lifts, now with extra weight!”

Mikey quickly discovered that your cat had a thing for his tails. Every time he walked by, the cat would pounce, swatting and chasing them like it was playing with the world’s best ribbon toy.

He’d spin in circles, laughing as the cat tried to keep up. “Who needs a laser pointer when you’ve got bandanna tails, am I right?”

Your cat adored Mikey’s playful energy, and Mikey loved having a little furry sidekick. He’d often turn to you with a huge grin and say, “I think your cat loves me more than you do!”

#reader #x reader #y/n #tmnt #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse #bayverse leonardo #bayverse mikey #bayverse donnie #bayverse raphael #they/them #cat

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aerynoakenshield · 2 months ago

Text

[Thorin Oakenshield] - Until The End

♫ - Falling - Harry Styles

Middle Earth was a sight. There were so many different landscapes, so much flora and fauna surrounding you each moment. You discovered things in the wild areas that you otherwise may not have known existed if you kept to your own home, or at the very least never seen with your own eyes. The grounds of this world were made for exploration, but admittedly, in small doses.

It had been a grueling trip to get to Rivendell, and still you had yet to arrive. Long nights paired with exhausting walks meant that tensions had run high in the company. Petty arguments that were over by sundown sprung between members of the party, even those who otherwise had no business being angry with each other. It was simply exhaustion taking over.

On Thorin's recommendation, which was more of an order, you had all stopped for the night in a cave, well out of the sight and smell of any orc packs that may be lurking above ground. Going against Gandalf's better judgement due to Thorin's inability to listen to the wizard, and anyone else for that matter, a fire had been started and food was on its way.

Taking some time away from the bustle of camp being set up, you sat away from everyone else and closed your eyes, entering a small state of meditation in order to try and relax. Despite your love for adventure and being very used to always being on the move, this journey thus far had even started to get to you.

"You alright there, hey?" A familiar voice broke you out of your rest, and you turned to see Bofur, stood with a bowl of food in his hand. "Here, get this down ya."

"Thanks, Bofur. I'm alright."

Lies. Bofur knew it. You hadn't been fine for some time. When this journey had started, when you had all met at Bilbo's home, you were excited and spry. You couldn't wait for the adventure that lay outside the door. Now, it was different. Now, you were not even sure if you wanted to continue.

"Aye, you'll excuse me if I don't believe ya, right?"

You chuckled, a look of defeat on your face. You had become close to Bofur on this trip, him and Balin had become almost father figures to you. They were always trying their best to keep your spirits high as you did for everyone else. Much to your dismay, Bofur could now read you like a open book.

"I will," you sighed, shaking your head and beginning to eat as the dwarf joined you with his own food. "Sometimes I fear you know me better than I know myself."

Bofur bumped arms with you and laughed. "Go on, tell me what's wrong."

You thought for a second, pondering whether or not to lie again or just talk to him. Realising that he was actually there to help you, and lying to him seemed futile, you began to talk.

"Thorin."

Bofur nodded, not wanting to interrupt whatever flow you may get into, but acknowledging what you had said. He knew how tense things were between you and Thorin.

"I just don't know why he hates me so much, Bofur. I have been nothing but kind to him and I get his temper and anger in return. I cannot help who I am, but I harbour no ill-will to any of you. I do want to see you all finally have a home."

Your voice had cracked at the end, a sign of high emotion from you. Bofur placed a hand on your knee, he had not been blind to Thorin and his attitude towards you.

It had been like that from the start, and you knew it was because you were an Elf. As a child, you grew up surrounded by those of your own kind, but as you studied and read texts from other kingdoms, adventure had called to you. Gandalf came to you with the opportunity of helping the dwarves reclaim their homeland, and you were all too quick to join him. What you hadn't expected, was for the head of the company to seemingly want you to disappear.

Nobody else had ill feelings towards you, and you got along with everyone; even Dwalin, who was grumpy most of the time, but after he had saved your life a few days back, it seemed as though his heart had opened up to you more. It was just Thorin.

Balin took you aside two nights back, after he saw you crying as you rode through the forest. That day, Thorin had shouted at you, telling you that 'an Elf does not belong on a trip to reclaim a home that they helped destroy.' For some reason, that stung you deep down. You were not there that day, nor was it your kin on that battlefield either. You were not to blame, and Balin had told you that. He brought you a drink and sat with you, explaining why Thorin acted the way he did and of his past.

From that night until present moment, you had been kinder to the dwarf than ever before, and it still hadn't been enough. That's what had led to you sitting here with Bofur now, silent contemplation and comforting words filling the air.

"Listen here," Bofur began, collecting your bowl from you and taking your hands in his own. "You are an asset to this company, believe me. I've never seen someone fight so well with sword and bow. You and Kili work like a charm with those arrows. You've saved our lives multiple times, you keep us cheery when you can. We appreciate ya, we really do. And deep down, I think Thorin does, too."

"He certainly has a funny way of showing it."

"Aye, he does," Bofur agreed. "He certainly does. But, I think you should just talk to him. As I came down, he was on his watch, so if you're lucky maybe you can take him his food and sort this out?"

You shuddered thinking about it. The last thing you needed tonight was to be barked at for merely existing from him. It had been a long day, but as you looked at Bofur before you, you nodded.

"Alright, I'll do that."

Giving you a hug, Bofur placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Standing, you both made your way back to the party and you met Balin by the fire.

"Can I take a bowl for Thorin, Balin?" you asked, voice low so only he could hear. The last thing you wanted was for anyone, namely Fili or Kili, to make any jokes or remarks right now. Balin's eyebrows raised, but he smiled kindly, handing you a bowl with the spoon.

"Here you go, thank you for taking it." Balin always had been kind to you. Before you could leave, he leaned in to your ear and whispered.

"And good luck." Balin pulled back with a friendly wink, and you could feel that he was trying to calm your nerves. You shook your head with a smile and left.

You had reached the outskirts of the camp and peered around the trees covering the entrance of the cave your company were in, wondering where the young dwarf was for his watch. Normally, he walked up and down, but this time you found him leaning on a rock, gazing out into the planes before him.

You took a second to look at him, face aglow in the pale moonlight. He looked like a King. He looked beautiful. This wasn't a new thought for you, you had realised that when he turned up at Bilbo's door. There was something different about him to the others. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his face was a perfect balanced of harsh and soft. Either way, the view before you was something to behold.

"I know you're there, you know?" Thorin's deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and his head turned, bright blue eyes meeting yours as you swiftly pulled your away. You couldn't hold eye contact at the best of times, let alone now.

"My apologies, Thorin, I did not want to make you jump. I thought you might want some food, you need to eat."

Thorin continued to look at you, and if you were looking back you may have noticed his gaze had softened. Taking some steps aside, he made room for you to lean with him on the rock, inviting you over with a wave of his hand.

"Thank you, if you wish to join me, you can."

You couldn't process that for a second. He wants me to stay? you thought.

Taking a seat on the grass, you handed him the food and drew your weapon, resting your bow across the length of his sword. Thorin spoke before he had started to eat, looking at you with care.

"Have you eaten something?" the dwarf asked, concern hinting in his voice.

"I have, thank you. Bofur brought me something not too long ago. I just wanted to make sure you had eaten, too."

Thorin nodded, and began eating his food. Silence fell around you, but it wasn't uncomfortable for the first time. It was soothing. You were in each others company and not fighting, which was a first. As you both sat, Thorin let his mind wander as his eyes roamed the fields.

In his heart, the dwarf knew he had been unfair to you, that his actions had been irredeemable, and overall he had been less than pleasant with you. Truly, he had no bad feeling toward you. It was quite the contrary.

When Thorin had entered Bilbo's home, he saw his kin before him, but off to the side something else had caught his eye. The last thing he was expecting was an elf to be present, considering the longstanding history between your races. His eyes met yours, and Thorin couldn't deny the feeling he got. He couldn't deny to himself, he thought you were very pretty. A thought Thorin never assumed he would have towards an elf, having had nothing but disdain for them since the incident with King Thranduil. Still, his heart could not deny no matter how hard his brain may try.

Through the meeting, his eyes darted to you often, finding himself unable to keep them from you. Somewhere inside, there was a small part of himself angry that he would allow such thoughts, especially because the whole reason they were there was partly down to elvish actions.

Thorin never wanted to be harsh with you, and he never meant for it to go so far. But, in his mind he was battling those feelings that conflicted each other and it was weighing down upon him. He wanted to feel worthy of his ancestors, and perhaps he thought harboring any form of love or admiration for an elf was the worst thing he could do.

Bringing himself back to the present, he placed his bowl aside, and took a small glance at you. In the night's low light, your features lit up and you appeared more ethereal than normal. In the day to day, you always had an air of grace about you, and you always seemed to glow with a natural beauty. But the moon enhanced that, and Thorin found it hard to tear his gaze away.

"Look," the dwarf began, and you hummed but kept yourself still, unmoving. "You know I don't think of you harshly. I know my actions haven't made that clear, but I do mean it."

You sighed. "I don't know what I did to deserve that treatment, Thorin."

Mahal, he loved the way you said his name. Never had it been so soft. But now was not the time for those thoughts, as he replied to you as honest and open as he could.

"You did nothing, I was acting out of grudge. There are elves I have a right to hate, but I know you are not one of them. I let my worst side take charge with you, and I hope you can forgive that. I am sorry for how I have treated. You have shown nothing but kindness, you have saved lives in this company, and I have still treated you horrendously. If you couldn't see past that, I would understand. But, I just wanted to let you know."

Now, your eyes fell upon the dwarf, and he seemed sorrowful. It seemed so genuine, a very rare glimpse into the vulnerable and unguarded side of Thorin Oakenshield.

"If I could not see past that, I would have been gone long ago."

Thorin's eyes met yours, and you had a kind glint in them. Your smiled, only half way, and glanced at your hands as you fiddled with your knife holster, idly playing with the loose leather pieces. You talked again, low and personal, making sure he knew every word was for him and hoping you could be as transparent as he just was.

"I want to see you on that throne, you know? I do wish to see you all reclaim your home. I cannot imagine what such a thing must feel like, as I have always had a home. But, you had yours taken away, and I took this task before I had met any of you. I think your company are a wonderful set of people, I have become very fond of all of them."

Thorin smiled too, thinking of his party back in the cave.

"And," you finished off, slightly hesitantly. "I think they have the best leader they could in you. You are the rightful king under the mountain, and I will not stop at anything until I know you sit where you should."

"You really think that?" Thorin sounded almost unsure.

"I would not have said it if I meant otherwise."

For a moment, you both sat without talking, simply taking in the ambience around you. For the first time ever, there was no malice in the air when you were in each other's company. As your hands looped and twisted the leather still, a bigger hand took one of yours and rested in your lap. Shocked at the gesture, you looked over to Thorin, whose eyes were firmly ahead. Taking a step of your own, you shuffled into him closer, your legs and bodies touching. You could swear you felt him relax.

"I must confess something," Thorin's voice broke the air. "I thought you were beautiful when I first saw you."

"Oh?" you replied, seemingly surprised. "Me?"

"Yes, you. I could not take my eyes off you for that entire meeting. You have been in my thoughts ever since we left The Shire. It would seem I cannot get you out of my mind."

Your hand tightened around his, turning to entwine your fingers in with his own. It was then you noticed just how big his hands really were; they were almost twice the size of your own. Your other hand traced the rings he wore, your gentle touch sending a feeling through his whole body that he failed to describe.

"I have thought of you often, too. Even after all the fights, all of the arguments. I have thought about the dwarf that may be hidden under all of that, the kind Thorin that I am convinced is in there."

He let out a hearty chuckle, one that seemed less of humour and more of a tension relief. Finally, he was cleared of this weight on his shoulders.

"Then perhaps you should find that out for yourself."

Before you had a chance to answer his playful remark, Thorin's hand lifted to hold your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. His hand came to rest on your jaw, and as he leaned in he stopped just before your lips, waiting for your permission to carry on. Without hesitation, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his. Knowing you were fine with it, Thorin pulled you closer and deepened the kiss, though still remaining soft.

You both knew your guards being dropped like this was not good, but in the moment, neither of you cared. It was only a minute or so, and the company were safe. Pulling back, Thorin rested his forehead against your own as you regained your breath. Say what you will, he is an excellent kisser.

"Thorin," you breathed out, not wanting to ruin the tender moment.

"Are we friends now then?" he asked, a smug tone lacing his words as he smirked at you.

"I think we are a little more than friends right now."

You had laughed and Thorin followed suit, and as you continued watch with him, his arm came to rest around your shoulders, occasionally playing with a loose strand of your hair. Your head leaned onto his shoulder.

"What do you think the future holds, Thorin? After you reclaim Erebor, what then?"

You heard him sigh, and his gaze fell upon the sky as he rested his head against the rock.

"I would think a focus on building back homes, creating a safe place for people to work and live among each other. Once word is sent to the other dwarves, perhaps then we can create the community that once was there. But in truth, I do not know."

Thorin was uncertain, mostly of the future just ahead, never mind the future that far in front.

"But," he began, now looking down at you as your eyes met. "I do know that I would quite like you by my side through it all."

You said nothing in reply, choosing instead to lean into him and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. Thorin's hand wound itself into your hair as he deepened the kiss. Without thought, you pulled him closer and you both got lost in each other for those few moments. Right here, nothing else mattered, nothing else was real. It was you and him, in each other's embrace and for the first time in so long, at ease.

You spent the rest of the night with each other on guard, allowing the company some decent rest, and from that day on you had vowed to always be there with Thorin Oakenshield until the very end.

Thank you for reading! <3

#thorin oakenshield #thorin #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #x reader #imagine #one shot

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sumaneun-stars · 1 year ago

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'Usual White Sheets'

Pairing. Bf!Jay x fem!reader

Genre. Established relationship, fluff

Warnings. Mentions of blood, reader is on her periods

Even with your eyes closed, half dead, your body searched for Jay's. When your arms reached out to every corner of the bed and found nothing, no one, you opened your eyes.

“What the…'' you mumbled, looking at a probably new bed sheet, by the looks of it. Not the usual white sheets of his bed.

Adjusting to the morning light that shone through your window, you slowly sat up.

New pajama shorts.

A cloth under your lower half

No- It can't be.

Your hand searched under your pillow to grab your phone. Hurriedly opening your calendar, you groaned in frustration.

You were early this month.

You buried your face in your hands. Jay had probably woken up to a messy stain you caused, and he had changed your shorts too. You're such a wreck, y/n.

Ignoring the pain in your lower stomach, you slowly got out of bed. While brushing your teeth, you wondered how you could ever show your face to Jay again. This wasn't the first time your boyfriend took care of you on your period, but it was never this bad. Never a stain.

You didn't know if it was your stupid hormones acting up, but you had the urge to punch something.

Careful not to fall, you made your way downstairs, whatever urge you had before vanished when you saw your beloved boyfriend making breakfast. He had his airpods on so he didn't notice when you stood behind him. He flinched a little when you wrapped your arms around his waist, but relaxed almost immediately.

“Baby, how are you feeling? Do you need any painkillers? Hm?” Jay spoke, removing his airpods.

When he felt you shaking your head from side to side, he realized you were embarrassed,cute. Jay would be lying if he said he wasn't shocked to see blood first thing in the morning, he was mad at his phone for not notifying him about your week. He always took pride in knowing when your period came, he knew how to care for you in those terrible days.

“Angel, there's nothing wrong in a little accident” he caressed your hand on his waist. He knew you were too embarrassed to face him. And he found that adorable.

“Little? How was that little, Jay? I literally let my disgusting blood soak your bed” you mumbled into his back.

Jay chuckled at your embarrassed state, there were times in his life where he just wanted to wrap you in his arms, squeeze your cheeks, cuddle you and never let go of you, like right now.

“Hmm you're right, so when are you gonna buy me a new bed, love?” he smiled when you laughed at his teasing. He knew how painful these days were going to be for you. He made up his mind to make you smile more. Laughter is the best medicine

Jay took that opportunity and turned around, engulfing you in a warm hug. Sometimes Jay's warmth and scent was the only meditation you needed.

“How is it early this time, baby?” Jay spoke while he combed your hair with his fingers. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his cold fingers run through your scalp.

“I have no idea” you cuddled into his chest. He smiled to himself looking down at you when you nuzzled your nose into his chest. Jay loved how clingy you got during your period,one of the many things he loved about you.

“Should we go see a doctor?” He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there nuzzling into your hair. Your limbs almost melted at the feeling.

“I used to get irregular periods when I was in high school baby, it's nothing serious” you looked up at him, kissing his chin you gave him a reassuring smile.

You both swayed slowly from side to side, enjoying nothing but each other's presence. Occasionally you felt Jay plant butterfly kisses on your head, shoulder and neck. It amazed you how he knew how to ease your internal pain. No scented candle could beat Jay's natural scent.

“Honey, I think my curry is burning” he spoke into your hair. Chuckling, you detach yourself from Jay- but he thought otherwise.

You felt his hands under your thighs. He lifted you up and gently placed you on the island of the kitchen. He looked at you with the most ‘husband-material’ eyes, your arms still wrapped around his neck. Jay leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing down your nose and pecking the tip. You felt a million butterflies awaken in your body to his actions.

He moved back and placed his palm to the side of your face, caressing your cheek.

“I think your curry needs saving, Jay” you raised a playful brow at him.

“Oh my god-” he hurriedly switched the stove off. “No!” he whined when he looked at his now black curry.

“I made this for you especially” he pouted when you stood beside him examining the ruined matter. Your heart sank when you noticed his disappointed look, his hand still scraping the burnt parts of the food with a spoon.

“Looks like I have to buy new groceries too” you moved closer to him and pecked his pouty lips.

“And a new pan,”

End.

#enhypen #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enha #enhypen drabbles #enha fluff #enhypen jay #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #jay fluff #jay imagines #jay x reader #jay #jay enhypen #park jongseong #enha imagines #enha jay

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cyberskulzzz · 20 days ago

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In honor of me moving and not having wifi the last three days I made this while I was gone:

Moving in with Rodrick Heffley Headcanons!🎀

(not proof read)

Prompt: After years of touring together, you and Rodrick finally move into your first stable home.And you two try to find compromises on your decor styles.

(You’re both in your twenties now. Think grunge/punk x coquette/girly vibes,iykyk.)

•Obviously Rodrick lives for his subculture its not just his style, it’s self expression. While you’ve lived together on tour, moving into a real apartment together feels completely different,you quickly notice the clashing of your guys’s visions for your home.

•This is the first time since high school that either of you has had a stable place to call home,not couch surfing or living out of suitcases.

•So to prepare you sat down together and made a list of what your new place needed,separating responsibilities for furniture and decor to each of you.

•Now the actual clash,Rodrick assumed your decorating style would stay simple, like it was used to be on the road,mostly black and leather,with a few pink accents here and there to bring in your personality. However now that you guys had that rockstar budget and you could buy your whole ass pinterrest board,you were way to excited to not do so.

•But when you came home and he saw the boxes filled with bows, pastel furniture,and candles, he was visibly overwhelmed.

•“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“I don’t fuck with pink that much, babe.”

“We don’t need, like, twenty bows in one place. Not even Santa’s elves have that many yk.“

•But before you could respond annoyed,you noticed his decor piled by the door: thrifted, torn items he’d collected over the years. Leopard print blankets, a beat-up leather couch, a black table covered in graffiti and stickers, and a few lava lamps.

•The two of you argued for about 30 minutes before Rodrick,got fed up

•: “Let’s just put everything up and see how it looks. If it’s terrible, we’ll fix it.”

•You agreed,mostly hoping your style would take over the atmosphere if you decorated faster.

•Luckily the feared clashing of your styles wasnt bad at all,to your surprise.

The apartment ended up looking like a chaotic mix of grunge and coquette.Your Yankee candles sat next to his record player, your novels next to his cds.

•Rodrick hated the pile of decorative pillows on your bed. When he found out they were “just for decor” and needed to be put off the bed every night, he lost it. Your bedtime routine didn’t help either: silk sheets, incense sticks, humidifiers, and meditative audiobooks. It drove him crazy,at first. But after the first time you gave him a sheet mask and a skincare session, he was asleep in minutes. Now, he doesn’t mind the routine,as long as he’s included.

•Rodrick is surprisingly chill about letting you take over the kitchen and bathroom essentials. He couldn’t care less if he’s drinking out of a hello kitty mug or drying off with a pink towel after showering.We know damn well that man is comfortable in his masculinity.

•Rodrick is an excellent host,being used to having many people around on tour.Your friends, family, and band members always feel welcome,sometimes even overstay their welcome. There’s ALWAYS someone around on the weekends. You two have a whiteboard by the door where guests can scribble little messages or doodles. Next to it is a Polaroid wall, filled with pictures of you and Rodrick from all the way back in high school.

•The guest room doubles as a writing/home studio.Rodrick often disappears to “work,” but you know he’s just messing around on his drums half the time,needing to clear his head.

•You constantly have to remind him of things like throwing away trash or closing the toothpaste. (Susan is so thankful for you when she sees the improvement lol.)

•It’s a little messy, a little chaotic, but filled with love and you couldn’t care less.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #coquette #coquette reader #first apartment #rockstars #grunge x coquette

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justporo · 1 year ago

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i came uP WITH ANOTHER JUST NOW Tav has a bad dream about Astarion dying and is getting irrationally protective- Astarion must find a way to reassure that no, he is NOT going to randomly keel over, and after proceeding to Make It Worse with things like "it was just a dream" ends up resorting to trying to make Tav laugh to lighten the mood

My dear mushy, yet again you present me with a wonderful idea. This struck a chord with me for the last few days because I was feeling a little anxious and thus very much in the mood for some angst. So here you go! Also remember how I said I was taking a breather? I am! But I still love writing too much to not do it… Also this very self-indulgently helped me with some of my anxiety these past days. (Note tho: I am neither diagnosed with anxiety or a an expert, I can only describe what I can relate to and can imagine, just to put it out there)

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: Talk of trauma and nightmares, descriptions of some violence and death

Wordcount: 2,3k

Tav wakes from repeating nightmares about Astarion. She sneaks out of bed in an attempt to hide it but gets caught by Astarion who immediately notices something is wrong and wants to comfort her.

It‘s where my demons hide (I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you)

You woke from your trancelike meditation. On your back, you felt paralysed for a moment, your heart still heavy with dream images that filled you with icy dread. You couldn’t move and felt a single hot tear running down your cheek as a silent sob left your chapped open lips.

The images were still vivid in front of your eyes: Astarion, full of blood, falling over, his face distorted in pain, agony and desperation in his ruby eyes, panickingly grabbing for you; and then: life leaving his ruby eyes until they were only hollow.

And in your dreams you screamed and raged with all your force trying to reach him in time, to prevent what was happening, to at least hold his head in your lap as life passes from him. Never reaching him before it was too late.

The nightmares had come for quite some time now. They always followed the same pattern - and so did you: waking up in the middle of your ‚night‘, freezing from cold sweat, tears running and desperately trying to not wake Astarion.

Because you knew it wasn‘t real. There he was, right beside you. Softly breathing in his own dreams. His face so peaceful and relaxed.

You felt an incredible urge to grab him and kiss him awake to truly know he was there and fine. You just wanted to know that whatever you had dreamt: it wouldn‘t happen, it didn‘t happen; he was alive and well and next to you.

You sat up and felt the goosebumps all over your body and you shuddered. Starting to rub your arms you looked over to where Astarion was. And he was indeed peacefully slumbering - or deeply meditating as was the custom for you elves. You spent quite some heartbeats to watch him - how his chest slowly rose and fell, how a single white lock fell onto his forehead, how his facial expressions softly changed as he was dreaming.

Your heart ached and you couldn‘t shake the dread that kept hold of you. It sat deeply in your bones by now, hands around your throat and closing it‘s fingers. You quickly started to get out of bed, grabbing Astarion‘s shirt that was still laying on the floor in front of the bed and threw it over your head. You felt that the sobs were coming and you wanted to be out of here before the vampire caught onto it - he had enough to deal with, so you wouldn‘t burden him with your brain harassing you with its bad, irrational nightmare fantasies.

The soft pat-pats of your naked feet being the only sound as you walked, you left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen. There you grabbed some of the leftover milk from the day before and then went into the living room. As you lifted one of the thick brocade curtains you saw that it was already pretty dark outside. Some blue was still to be seen in the sky but it was surely and quickly to be chased away by the moon and the stars.

You drew the curtain away from the tall window and sat down in the alcove. Drinking your mug of milk your mind was still on your nightmares. You felt the wound up coil of anxiety in your stomach - it was bad this time. It surely would take some time before you would have calmed down completely. The tension was still way to present this time, making your foot that was on the floor tap nervously while you kept feeling restless.

„My sweet, it‘s way too early to be up…“ The voice of your subject of worry made you whip your head from looking out the window to Astarion. He was standing in the doorframe, sheets messily wrapped around his hips. He looked very drowsy and tired and not fully awake - a very rare look and mood for him.

„Also is that my shirt you‘re wearing because rawr, if I dare…“, his words trailed off when he realised that something was not quite right.

He saw the tension in your body, noticed the unnecessarily hard grip on your mug and your restless foot. Immediately, he was fully awake and rushing over to you: „My love, what is it, what‘s wrong?“ He sat down beside you and pulled you into his lap - no room for protest. His ruby eyes were clouded with worry, brows furrowed and his mouth in a tense line.

You tried to just shake your head and smile at him to assure him that everything was fine, you‘d just woken up a little early. But your body was traitorous, your eyes filled with tears and you could feel your chest start to heave - the urge to let out your sobs and howl in agony almost unbearable.

And as Astarion softly moved a strand of your reddish-brown hair behind your ear and then let his thumb softly wander over your cheekbone, then over your lips and then placed it on your chin lightly, it became too much to bear.

Sobs came and shuddered through your whole body, tears flowed openly. Astarion grabbed you and held you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him back hard - really having to feel that he was there. The vampire carefully placed his chin on the top of your head and softly swayed you from side to side. He said nothing for a while only humming softly - an old elven lullaby -, knowing that nothing he could put into words would make a difference in this very moment - he just held you. Because he knew what it felt like and had had to go for it alone, two centuries of nightmares, and he‘d never wish on another living soul having to go through something like this with no one there to spare you a little solace. This and the way you could feel his chest slightly vibrate while humming calmed you down slowly.

„Having nightmares again?“, Astarion whispered softly when the acute shudders of grief had calmed down a little. You burrowed your wet face at his chest, not wanting to admit that he had caught you. „Don‘t deny it, my love, don‘t think I didn‘t notice you getting up in the middle of the day and sometimes only returning hours later“, he continued. You could basically hear that his brows were furrowed. With a soft nudge on your shoulders he pushed you a little from his chest so he could take a look at you: „I‘m not one to pry and I respect your privacy, Tav, but I‘m worried. When was the last night of a full rest for you, hm?“ His eyes were so full of warmth and worry that you were sure yours were immediately filled with immense guilt. But you were still reluctant, having promised yourself to keep these problems your own.

Astarion softly cocked his head. „Don‘t you think, just a little bit, my love, that I deserve to know? Wouldn‘t you like to know? I bet if it‘d been me you would have already wreaked all Nine Hells‘ havoc upon me to find out what‘s bugging me“, he said while his tone turned sassy slightly. One eyebrow was raised, signature smirk was now turned on at least to half force.

And he knew you well and he was right, that bastard.

You cleared your throat. „It‘s nothi-“, you started. Astarion‘s face immediately dropped: eyes half-lidded, lips pouting. „We can play this the easy way, my heart, or the hard one - I have all the time in the world“, he threatened but his tone was still soft.

You sighed in desperation and looked up to the ceiling. Then you let your gaze drop. You had withdrawn your arms from around him and now nervously pressed down on your one palm with the thumb of the other hand. „I keep dreaming you‘re dying - and I can‘t do anything about it“, you admitted flat-out but did not look up.

„That‘s it?“, Astarion responded. Now you looked up - did he just say that like it was nothing? You kept staring at him in confusion and you surely felt anger rise up inside you. The vampire‘s gaze jumped from yours to the side and back, obviously not grasping what was so harrowing. When you kept staring, he said: „Well, do you have any idea how often I dream about stuff like that happening to you - and me for that matter? And I‘m here, am I not? It‘s irrational, nothing is wro-“ „You insensitive prick“, you yelled and weakly hit him on the chest with your flat hand.

„Do you know how it feels? Watching you die - vividly- over and over again! Covered in your own blood and I can do NOTHING! Only watch you as the life flows from your body…“ The tears were back and you could see how through your blurring vision Astarion‘s face changed from surprise to shame.

He pulled you in again: „I‘m sorry.“ This time he borrowed his face in your hair - you could feel how his face scrunched in agony as he kept squeezing you. „I‘m so sorry, I… didn‘t know how it is for you…“

You lifted your head from his chest with a gasp. The sobs had subsided once more and you were now at this awkward hiccupy phase of a really bad cry. „It‘s like… something burning in my chest“, you said, emotions still crushing over you, wanting to let it all out this time; to rid yourself of it if possible. Your hands rose to your chest, one grabbing the other. „Sometimes it‘s constant, for days on end, a constant buzz. Sometimes it claws its way up to my throat and I feel this pressure. And it‘s just sitting there, reminding me of the fear I have. And at worst it‘s like this impending doom - it holds my heart in its hand and it squeezes from time to time to make me hurt and my heart can only flutter against it like a hummingbird in a cage that‘s way too small. I don‘t know how it feels for you, but that‘s how it is for me…“ You squeezed your hand so hard it hurt - but still not even remotely close to the hurt you felt in your chest sometimes.

Astarion softly grabbed your hands with his and looked at you, sorrow in his eyes. „Well, if it wouldn‘t be so sad that would almost be poetic“, he replied with a sad smile. „I know the feelings you describe well. Too well. Perhaps I‘ve grown too accustomed to it to no longer relish their absence“, he explained his eyes slowly drifting from yours into a gaze that was a thousand leagues away. And now you understood his reaction a little bit better: his was one of an animal knowing nothing but abuse and imprisonment. While yours had barely scratched the surface of the sorrows of this world.

„Astarion“, you whispered softly, withdrew one hand from his and touched your fingers to his face, pulling him back to you - to the here and now.

The vampire closed his eyes for a short moment. When he opened them again he‘d come back to you. „It was still an insensitive reaction of me, for that I apologise.“ „You shouldn‘t have to feel like that or even get used to it. And I‘m sorry I shouted at you“, you answered with a whisper. You felt guilt now.

„No, my love, it was absolutely right to call me out on that and if it helps: it‘s getting better. Slowly, but better. And I‘m sure these storm clouds will pass for you too“, he answered and pulled your face to his, leaning his forehead against yours and his hand softly cupping your cheek. Warmth filled his ruby eyes again and a soft smile danced on his lips.

„Now, I propose whenever you wake with a horrendous nightmare you poke me in the side so the following yelp and curse tell you that I am still very much alive - or unalive for that matter, you get it - and myself and here with you. Promise?“, he spoke and his eyes widened as he made you look into his eyes.

„Only if you do it too“, you answered as you felt some more sobs threateningly bubble up in your chest; this time they weren‘t in sorrow though.

„Only if you promise to not smother me with your pillow when I raise you from your precious and much needed beauty sleep, my love“, Astarion answered with a big smirk now. You pushed away from him but couldn‘t stop yourself from laughing at the banter: „You‘re such a dick sometimes.“ Astarion just laughed dirtily in response - nothing you didn‘t tell him at least three times a day. „Yes, and you‘re a hag sometimes, my sweet“, he replied with a grin, fangs showing, ignoring the obvious contradictory statement he had just made.

You stuck out your tongue at him and as you did it you realised that he must‘ve very well known what he was doing. The tension and anxiety had actually left your body for good. You hoped it would stay this way. And you hoped Astarion might feel the same. Grabbing his hand, you leaned back against his chest, snuggeling up to him. You pressed your spread fingers against his, watching how his hands and fingers were quite a bit larger than yours.

There was still much to talk about, to unravel, to work through; for both of you - but maybe not tonight. Maybe it was enough that you unraveled just a tiny piece tonight. You had so many more nights to slowly get to the rest.

Astarion stared at your hands that pressed together, obviously lost in his own thoughts. But then he smiled and crossed his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly: „Now, promise?“ „Promise and promise“, you replied solemnly and waited for Astarion to say it back. „Now, you say it!“, you said pushingly and squeezed his hand.

The vampire rolled his eyes but with a smile on his face, twisted your joint hands and pressed a kiss on the back of your hand: „Promise!“

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #poro writes #request

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heartsforseo · 9 months ago

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Monster trio x fem! reader

Summary: Reader has period cramps and monster trio tries to comfort them. request=open requested: <yes> <no> wc: 895 ft: monster trio warning: talks about cramp

You woke up, groaning in pain and clutching your stomach. Five more days and it’ll be over, and in your opinion, the second days were always the worst.

And so, you had made up your mind and decided to hang around your bed until the day ends, maybe even get some sleep to ease up the pain.

Luffy was upset. He woke up early in the morning and caught a huge fish with Ussop and Chopper.

Obviously, he wanted to show it to you, but you never came out. The first time the door had opened he was already climbing up the stairs, but his face had met the door instead, and right behind it was Nami in her signature bra and pants.

The second time the door opened, he was standing right next to it. He let out a small snort and quickly tackled the person that came out. But, he was met with a hand smooshing his face away and the person stood up. Oh, it was Robin.

“Why hasn’t Y/n come out yet Robin? The fish is in the aquarium already!” Luffy whined.

“Maybe you should check up on her, Luffy. Make sure to not make a mess though, Nami will be mad.” The archeologist replied.

Luffy’s face contorted into a cheeky grin and left the area. He went inside the girl’s room and there he saw you; curled up like a cocoon, your hands clutching on your stomach and your head nestled on your legs.

“Y/n!” Luffy said cheerfully. “I have so many things to tell you! So basically I caught this HUGE fish and—Y/n?”

Luffy looked at you, your body slightly shaking and you bit the bottom of your lips.

“H-hey, should I call Chopper or something..?” Luffy muttered, shaking your body relentlessly.

You touched the poor man’s hand and he finally stopped. “Don’t worry Luffy, it’s nothing serious. It’ll go away eventually.”

“What do you mean by that? Aren’t you in pain?”

You chuckled, “Yes I am, but it is a different type of pain. I’ll explain it to you someday, but for now—I just want to stay with you.”

“So you ARE in pain. Why didn’t you tell me?” Luffy asked, completely ignoring the other words you had said.

You sighed and sat up, still clutching your stomach, “Fine, I’ll explain it to you.”

“Do you get it now?”

“Not really. But that’s unfair. I don’t want you suffering for a week every month! Hmm…I know now! I'll ask Sanji to get you your favorite food!"

With that said, Luffy left the room and came back, "Here, I got you your favorite food, Y/n! Though I ate the other four..."

"Thank you, Luffy. How about you tell me what happened with the fish? You never finished did you?"

Luffy sat on your bed and flashed a big smile, ready to tell you what happened while you were away.

You had promised Zoro that you were going to train with him. You may be in pain, but you're a man of your word.

You went up to the crow's nest and saw the swordman meditating. Waiting for you, you presume.

"That's ten over two. Have you been slacking off?"

"Of course not!" you tried defending yourself, "I'm just not feeling it today…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You were holding your stomach after all." The swordman replied, not failing to notice your grip on your stomach.

Zoro walked away and sat down where you first saw him, "Attack me when you're feeling better. I'd want to fight you at your best."

Not one to accept snarky remarks, you picked up the sword beside you and stood up. You charged at the green-haired man, and your vision turned upside down.

"Stupid woman," the man muttered.

He puts his hands out and catches your falling figure, "I'm not gonna let you go until you tell me what's wrong."

"…Just some cramps," you finally let out.

Zoro sighed and let go of you, "You should've told me. No wonder why you weren't in shape."

"Hey!"

Zoro sat and pulled you to him, "You're probably cold, right? Well, I'll be with you, so don't whine no more."

That sleep was a breeze. First, you were being cuddled by Zoro in a quiet room, and second, you were being cuddled by Zoro in a quiet room. The only time you guys were woken up was by Sanji fuming outside the window.

"I don't wanna get up," you muttered to yourself.

If it weren't for the sound of knocking, you probably wouldn't get up.

You open the door and see Sanji with a tray of your favorite food and some heating pad.

"S-sanji, what are you doing here…?"

"Can I not see my lover anymore? Go get dressed up, and I'll clean your bed."

You let out a little smile and took a shower. You could hear a few shuffling outside here and there. After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw your side of the room neatly cleaned.

Sanji was waiting patiently, sitting at the bedside.

"Are you ok, my love? Can you walk?" He asked.

"Yes, of course, Sanji," you replied

"Do you want to stay in your room or leave? I'd like to stay by your side."

"I'd like to stay here…with you, Sanji. I'm happy that you are my lover."

"No, I'm glad that you said yes that day."

DAMN THAT GOT CHEESY T__T AND UH... I HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT. I RAN OUT OF IDEAS FOR SANJI ND ZORO SO IT GOT SHORTER. NO FAVORITISM HERE YALL. ALSO IF SOMEONE GETS THE REFERENCE I'D BE SET FOR LIFEEEE

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lynnlovesthestars · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do a Astarion x Tiefling Reader were they are sitting alone underneath there tents canopy in and they are sewing to pass the time humming and doesn't notice Astarion walk up after he was looking for them . ( they could be making something for him maybe for his 'birthday' after learning that it was that day ) .

omg sorry i took so long but my creativity juices flow in funny ways ahah.. to make it a little easier for me, since my tiny brain has been having a hard time in putting words down, i thought it would have been nice to tie this up with a oneshot i wrote a few weeks ago.. i wish i followed better your prompt- though i hope you'll like it.

Ofc reading the part before this won't change the experience, but it was nice to tie them together cause it gave a little continuity and idk anyways i hope you'll like it though it's mostly introspective and a lil angsty when astarion shows up..

----

Masterlist.

Part 1. (the one shot i tied this to)

My prompt list for requests.

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird (i forgot to add it yesterday cause im an idiot, but better late than never ahah)

----

Golden.

Pairing: astarion x GN!tiefling!reader

Summary: the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him.

Genre: angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance✨

You never noticed the tears carefully patched up on Astarion’s shirt until you were retrieving your dried clothes from the fire.

His button up sat up ripped on the stone like you left it on the night before, yet you still couldn’t help but focus on the smaller sewn tears already covering the fabric. It was such a precise job, that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the fabric was ever broken until you looked closely and the places where the thread was tightly pulled became clearer.

You made a mental note of it as you walked back to your tent, holding up the bundle of yours and Astarion’s clothes.

The camp was lively that morning: yelling, singing, clattering of bottles and pans, along with rustling of the leaves had saturated the air, charging it with an electrifying energy.

In the middle of the chaos, your brain still stirred towards Astarion and the way you woke up curled up in his side, while he was meditating.

The tension that filled the tent the night before was gone. The only thing left from the night before was the ghost of his bite on your neck, and his body holding you to him.

When he broke his trance, he acted like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t sleep twisted with him, or the way he drove you insane the night before.

You could still feel his lips on your neck as you collected your sewing kit from the tent, which still smelled like him, blood and bergamot.

As you spread the shirt on your lap, you could relive the events of the night before like a bard stuck on encore after encore.

You could feel the warmth of your bodies pressed to each other still spreading over your skin as you carefully prepared the essential to fix the tear.

You studied the tear that spread over the back, you knew it was going to be hard to make it seem flawless like the rest of them, but you wanted to attempt for him.

Worst case scenario, it was gonna stay broken anyways.

As you started to work on the tear, and you noticed how the uneven edges were not coming out nicely, an idea spurred in your mind.

At worst you were already planning on buying him a new one when you reached Baldur’s Gate. You had connections in the lower city, and you knew you could get a tailor to make the same button up if you brought a reference.

You worked on the shirt for what felt like hours, while everyone was enjoying their day, whether they took care of chores around camp or disappeared for walks, but as everyone came and left, the only one you had not seen was Astarion.

It was only when the sun was starting to set that you finally spotted him near his tent as he was looking for something in his bag.

You were just done with the shirt, and you couldn't help but hope he liked it.

You folded the shirt carefully along with the rest of his clothes, and as you were ready to head towards Astarion, he already stood in front of you.

His face was unreadable like he wanted to convey a specific emotion, but couldn't figure out how to. He was tense, his arms were frozen at his sides, so you decided to break the ice.

“I did this for you” You carefully showed him the pile of his neatly folded clothes, and his shirt on top.

“I wanted to fix your shirt, but the tear was too-” You started but before you could explain, Astarion had stopped you almost harshly.

“You didn't have to”He said briefly, it sounded mostly like an admonishment, yet you could have sworn there was some sort of softness to it.

“I know, but I wanted to”

“Why?” His furrowed brows were inquisitive, trying to gauge your intentions as he wetted his lips.

“Cause I care about you, I literally told you yesterday” The words slipped out of your lips just as quickly as your tail was swishing nervously.

He scoffed, folding his arms and turning his eyes away from you. “No one does things for free” You could tell there was something odd from him, as if he was trying to bury something under this indifference he was trying to put up now.

“Count this as a gift then” You jutted your chin towards him and invited him to take the clothes still in your arms.

He was taken aback by the simplicity with which you said those words, almost carelessly, and most of all to the person that deserved them the least, especially how hard he was being with you.

He wanted to quip back but you resumed your explanation before he could even think of a response and he wanted to hate it so much.

“As I was saying, I tried to fix the tear, but it didn't want to look nice, so I embroidered the shirt with a gold pattern” You explained as you pointed at the button up. Astarion was so focused on shielding himself that he didn’t even look at his clothes, she could have gave him one of her shirts for what he knew and he would have not realized it until he would be in his tent.

His eyes finally fell on the piece of clothing his mouth fell slightly open. He traced the golden thread carefully, as if it was a creation of his sick mind. “I hope it’s not too much.”You trailed off, your words were warm, almost sticking to his skin like glue. He wanted to shake them off himself, he wanted to yell that he didn’t deserve such attentions, that you were an idiot to do all of this for someone that had planned to use you, but it was like something in his body stopped him from screaming and lashing out at you, the only thing he could manage to do was the simple task he gave himself in the morning.

“I came here to thank you for last night, and for your kindness” He started with a honeyed voice. “But I suppose I have one more thing to add to the list” He clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest, tipping his head forward in thank you.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #vault: lynn ☆#ask: lynn ☆#asklynn☆: request #request open

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harmonyrae · 5 days ago

Text

A Sovereign is Born

Synopsis: A story he never thought he'd tell, his own. How did he become the Abysm Sovereign, a monster to so many? Who was he before?

My submission for the Where Drakeshadows Fall Fan Art Contest

Content Warnings: Spoilers for Sylus's Myth, Grief, Death of Loved One, Physical Pain (mentions of the horn/tail transformation), Sylus POV

Word Count: 5.9k

It’s not unusual for Sylus to sit up and read for an hour or so after waking up. He enjoyed waking up slowly and starting his day, or rather his night, challenging his mind. Leaning against his headboard, he propped his book up on his knee while he sipped his tea. However, the peace and quiet was short-lived.

“That’s it! I can’t do it anymore!”

Her voice echoed down the hallway. A smirk spread across Sylus’s lips as he listened to her footsteps making their way to his bedroom door. The door swung open, but Sylus kept his eyes glued to the book before him. He felt the bed shift heavily beside him. He looked over to see she had face planted right into the plush black comforter. Her hair was tossed into a messy bun, her usual Hunters gear replaced with a pair of red sweatpants and a t-shirt three sizes too big. Sylus’s smirk turned into a full blown smile.

“Is that my shirt?”

She lifted her head and blew a strand of hair away from her nose, completely ignoring his question.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for the past 2 nights. I’m - I don’t know what to do…”

“So you came here?”

“I’ve tried everything - warm milk, ocean sounds, meditation, no caffeine or screen time after I get home from work, melatonin gummies. Nothing has worked. So yes, I came here.”

She dropped her face back onto the comforter. Sylus tilted his head, clearly enjoying seeing his kitten in such a desperate state that she came to him for help. As various ideas floated through his mind, one stuck with him.

“Do you know why I love reading so much?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t bother to lift her head to respond. Sylus could tell she was past her breaking point. He had already decided he would do everything he could to help her relax and fall asleep tonight.

“Stories take me to far away places or back in time. That escape, no matter how brief, eases my mind. Stories speak to the soul.”

She lifted her head and looked at Sylus with wide eyes.

“Tell me a story!”

Sylus chuckled. She sat up on her knees and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Sylus, I never beg. But… please? Please tell me a story?”

“On one condition.”

She scooted closer to him, seeming to agree without knowing the terms.

“You tuck yourself into this bed and call out of work tomorrow. You need more than just one night to recover from insomnia.”

“Sylus! I’m not- I’m…”

“Sweetie, I just woke up, remember? You’ll have the bed to yourself all night.”

“Oh… uhm…” She sighed heavily. “Deal.”

She rolled off the bed and kicked off her slippers. Peeling the comforter back, she slid between the sheets and let out a contented sigh as she settled in. Turning on her side to look at him, she smiled. “Story time!”

Sylus closed his book and set it on his nightstand. He pressed his lips thinking about the story he was going to tell. Would it be too much for her? Would it be too sad? He cleared his throat in an attempt to smother the anxiety.

“Are you sure my story will interest you? It’s not a happy story. Quite sad actually. And it involves dragons.”

“Ooh dragons! Yes, tell me, tell me!”

Her excitement made his heart swell. His nerves, much less troublesome.

“I just have to decide what to name the main character.”

“Sylus.”

“Yes?”

“No, name them Sylus!”

“You want me to name the main character after myself?”

“Why not? It’ll be like you’re talking in third person.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and forced a smile. The story he was about to tell just became infinitely more challenging. But he nodded.

“Okay, they’ll be named Sylus then.”

He crossed his arms and braced himself, prepared to tell a story he had long ago promised to never tell a soul.

“In a time before humans, dragons occupied the land. And before Sylus - well, dragon Sylus that is - was born, a great war was being fought between clans. His father was fighting on the front lines, while his mother protected her egg. She never left her nest, even as news from the front took a turn, she focused on taking care of her unhatched child.”

She smiled and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Sinking deeper into the plush mattress.

“Sadly, Sylus never got to meet his father. When word reached his mother, she immediately flew to the front. Leaving her egg to search for her lover to say a final goodbye. The war had already ended and the spring flowers had started to bloom when she arrived. She couldn’t find him, all she could do was roar into the night sky, mourning her lost love. And as quickly as she flew to that datura covered field, she returned to her child. The egg showed the first signs of cracking during the days she was away. She was terrified that leaving the way she did would mean her child wouldn’t survive.”

“But they did.” She whispered.

“Yes, they did. When the egg broke open, she was shocked to see a creature unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It didn’t look like a dragon. Pale skin, tufts of white hair.”

He winked at her and she giggled in response. Her eyes softened as her imagination took over.

“She was shunned by many mothers in the clan. They believed she had been cursed for leaving the egg the way she did. But she didn’t believe that, not for a moment. She saw him as a blessing. Even if she didn’t understand why he was so different. She would make a pilgrimage to the field every spring to pay respect. Eventually, Sylus wanted to go with her. And here, kitten, is where the story really begins.”

Sylus clung to his mother as she flew. Her ebony scales shimmered in the sunlight. Her crimson wings outstretched, steady and fluttering gently in the wind. Spring had started early this year, the air was warm and the floral scent washed over her, bringing tears to her ruby eyes.

“Will I ever be able to fly?”

His small voice broke as asked. He’d been asking the same question for years. The only dragon-like features that he had were his talons and scales, which had slowly started to spread across his arms in spare patches, chest and up his neck when he had turned 5. There’ve been no new developments in the past 5 years. He still had no horns or tail, and of course, no wings.

“I hope so. But remember what I told you?”

Sylus collapsed onto his mother, his arms swayed against her neck as his face pressed into her back. She felt the chill of a tear run over her scales. She flapped her wings hard, pushing them higher into the sky above the clouds. Sylus squealed in response.

“Mother!”

She smiled, she could hear the excitement in his voice. She flew higher and higher until the clouds lay beneath them like a fluffy meadow.

“Stand up.”

Sylus didn’t hesitate. He dug his claws into her scales, anchoring himself before he placed his feet firmly on her back. She leveled out and let her wings spread wide to allow them to glide. He removed his claws and eventually let go completely. She looked over her shoulder to see his arms outstretched and his face painted with a smile. The fabric of his tunic billowed in the breeze, the arms cut loose to imitate wings.

“Better?”

Sylus giggled and flapped his arms, feeling the fabric flutter.

“Better.”

“We’re almost there, you think you can hold on for a dive?”

He looked down at his mother with wide eyes, his sharp teeth on full display as he smiled. He nodded and dropped to his knees to cling to his mother ready for the descent. She tucked in her wings and angled her nose downward, diving through the clouds and straight for the ground. Sylus laughed and shouted as wind nearly deafened them and the ground grew closer. His mother finally flung her wings out and the updraft pushed them upwards before slowly descending to the field.

Sylus slid down his mothers wing and rolled onto the ground. He lay on his back, savoring the feeling of solid ground beneath him. As much as he loved flying, it made him appreciate the safety of the ground. He rolled over on his stomach and watched his mother walk into the field. She settled at the top of a hill and wrapped her wings around herself before lowering her head to the ground. Sylus frowned. The excitement of the flight momentarily made him forget the purpose of the trip.

Sylus jogged up the hill to his mother. He sat down next to her head, which was nearly three sizes larger than he was. If he was a normal dragon he might be half her size by now, but whatever “cursed” him made sure he would always be tiny in comparison to his kin. He shoved those thoughts away for now, leaning against his mother and using the ends of his tunic to dry her tears. It was always a hard trip, his mother mourned the loss of his father as if it was only yesterday she lost him.

“Tell me the story.” Sylus nudged his mother. She let out a soft growl in response.

“Sylus…”

“Come on, you know it helps. Tell me!”

She sighed, her breath blowing the petals off of hundreds of flowers that sat before her.

“When I first met your father, he was just a young dragon learning how to fly. I was, of course, performing better than he was in class. He would antagonize me during class, but during the journey home he would stay close to me, telling me stories about far away cities he had heard of and wished to see. When we came of age, he never gave any indication he liked me in any way. But when our first mating season began, he approached me and I was rather shocked.”

“He had a crush on you and you didn’t even know it. Embarrassing.”

“For me or for him? Being direct is always better. Don’t be embarrassed about what you desire.”

Sylus scrunched his nose, but nodded before settling back against his mother.

“It was rather impressive at first, but I think he got too cocky. He tripped over his tail and rammed his nose into a boulder. Everyone laughed and my friends urged me to ignore him, a better mate would present themselves. But –”

“But you didn’t want another mate, you wanted him!’ Sylus finished for her.

“I did. I wanted your father. Everyone thought I was crazy and mocked me for choosing a weak mate. But in just a few months he –”

“He proved himself to be the fiercest warrior and became the commander of all warriors in our clan!”

“You know the story better than I do it seems.” She laughed. “He wasn’t just strong, he was brave. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him. I loved him dearly and miss him everyday.”

She nudged Sylus with her snout.

“And you remind me of him.”

“But I’m not even a real dragon. And I’ll never be a warrior.”

“You are stronger than you know. Being different doesn't make you weak and it doesn’t mean you can’t be a warrior. You have a purpose Sylus. I know it.”

Sylus stared at her, tears filling his eyes.

“I just want to be like you. Like father.”

“And you are. You don’t have to look like us to share our heart. Our strength.”

Sylus never stopped wanting to look like a normal dragon, but over the years he started embracing his natural strength. Stubborn like his mother and cunning like his father, he proved himself to be a respected and valued member of the clan.

Sylus was 16 when the humans came. Tension in the clans grew as new inhabitants moved closer to their valley. And then they invaded. Clan after clan fell, their weapons were strong enough to pierce scales and shred wings. His mother protected him, but she wasn’t able to keep them away forever.

The afternoon sun cast a red glow across the valley, Sylus clung to his mother as she flew. Her strength was dwindling, her wounds were deep. Sylus had tried to treat them, but she wanted to get away from their army as quickly as possible.

“You have to stop, you’re hurt!”

He felt her drop several feet, her wings refusing to hold them up. She straightened her neck, pointing herself in the direction of the cave they had called home for the past few years. But when they finally approached the entrance, she couldn’t make it inside. Her claws scraped along the mountain side and Sylus could barely hold on. She came to a halt on a small ledge, her body collapsing, her wings draped over the edge of the cliff. Sylus crawled over her body, tugging off his tunic to press into her wounds.

“We have to get you inside, they’ll see you. Mother?”

Sylus couldn’t hide the fear in his voice. His hands shook as he treated her wounds. His mother let out a strangled roar. She was in too much pain to be quiet, Sylus knew they’d have heard her. They’d come for her and soon.

“I know it hurts, but you have to be quiet, you have to try, please.”

Tears stung his eyes, his heart pounded in his chest. The headache he’d had for the past few days had become so much worse. His mother struggled to open her eyes, a haze muddying the usual red shimmer.

“Be strong, my love. Always be strong.”

“Stop. Stop it! Don’t talk like that!”

Pain washed over him as his scalp split open. His talons clawed at his head as he screamed. His mother shifted, with her remaining strength she wrapped her wing around him protectively. He fell to his side as his back arched, his tailbone transforming and his tail extending. His body calmed, but fear settled over him. He lifted his hands to feel the spiraling horns. He felt his body sway and he looked over his shoulder to see a tail sweep against the rock beneath him.

“Mother?”

“I see them, my love. They’re beautiful.”

Sylus didn’t have time to process this sudden change. He’d waited 16 years to have horns and a tail, to be remotely similar to his kin, and now he would be hunted for having them. He resumed treating his mothers wounds, moving to the dagger stuck in her side.

“I need to remove this, hold still okay?”

His mother let out a deep growl. He gripped the hilt and pulled with all his might. The blade shook as her scales scraped against it. He placed it on the ground and moved the cloth over the new wound. She wasn’t getting any better. With tears streaming down his face, he finally knelt next to his mother, trying to meet her eye.

“Mother?”

She looked at him through weary eyes, her breathing slow.

“Please don’t leave me… I can’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

“You will never truly be alone. You are my beautiful warrior–”

Her chest shook as her eyes closed. Sylus collapsed beside her, his body shaking as he sobbed. He forced himself to sit up and run his hands along her face, her scales rough and shattered. He rested his forehead against her, the pain of his new horns and tail mingling with his heart breaking.

Then he heard it, shouts in the distance. He looked over the ledge and saw the humans. They were climbing the mountain towards him. They had seen his mothers body, he had to hide. He looked up at the cave entrance. He picked up the dagger before digging his claws into the rock and pulling himself up.

“I see movement!”

Sylus swore under his breath, they’d seen him. He hauled himself up the mountain and rolled into the entrance to the cave. He stood and raced to the furthest corner, searching for a way out or a hole he could hide in. There was nothing. The shouts were getting closer now. He looked down at the blade in his hand. He looked down at his tail. It felt foreign to him, like it didn’t belong, like it wasn’t meant for him. Maybe it wasn’t….

He didn’t have time to talk himself out of it or think up another plan. He wanted to live.

He pressed the dagger against the base of his horn, the cool metal made him shiver. He grit his teeth, a sob breaking free as he began to cut. The horn came loose and he held it in his hands. He threw it to the other side of the cave and began on the other horn. The pain was almost too much to bear. The horn fell away and blood trickled down his face. The stream poured into his eye and he blinked away the sting, but not before feeling a strange warmth spread through his mind.

He heard the sound of blades and more shouts. They’d reached his mother. He held his breath to stop himself from screaming in anger.

He blinked back more tears as he placed the blade under his tail. Bracing himself against the wall of the cave he sank down. His tail fell away and Sylus collapsed. He crawled to the opposite corner of the cave, leaving a blood trail behind him. He pulled his legs to his chest, his heart aching, his skin stinging, his eyes burning. The shouts are right outside the cave now. He didn’t have any strength left, if this was it, he couldn’t stop it. He felt an inexplicable exhaustion take over and he slipped into darkness.

Her face. Bright, soft, sweet. The dress she wore. The dark fabric flowing and fluttering in the wind. She held red datura flowers. She reached out a hand, a flower held between her delicate fingers. Sylus felt a subtle touch, as if the flower was tucked into his hair. And then darkness, once again.

Sylus opened his eyes slowly, the room spinning around him as he woke. He stared at the blank ceiling above him, a faint scent of herbs wafting through the air. He turned his head to see a man crouched next to a small fire, mixing something in a cauldron. Sylus coughed. The man looked up and gave him a small smile. He scooped something into a wooden bowl before approaching Sylus.

Sylus tried to sit up, a combination of fear and curiosity settled over him. The man offered him the bowl with a wooden spoon. Sylus cautiously took it.

“Root soup, it’s not much, but it’s all we’ve had for the past few days. Should help with that cough too.”

The steam from the soup warmed his face. He took a spoonful and sipped, the warm broth soothed his throat. He dropped the spoon onto the blanket beneath him and tipped the bowl back taking large gulps. The man laughed.

“You’ve been asleep for two days, I figured you would be pretty hungry. There’s plenty left.”

Sylus finished the soup before looking over at the man properly for the first time. He shifted uncomfortably, his back still tender.

“Where am I?”

“You’re with Judicator’s finest - his dragon slaying army! We are a day's journey away from the city.”

“The city?”

“Ivory City! You must be from a neighboring village, taken by those beasts. It’s good we found you when we did. Seems you fought off the beast and kept yourself from being a meal! The Judicator was impressed.”

Sylus clenched his fist. They’re calling his mother a beast. They think he killed her? That he is human? He suddenly reached up to his head, but felt no horns, only fabric.

“Your head was bleeding pretty bad when we found you. A doctor in the city will get a better look at you tomorrow. For now, the bleeding stopped.”

The man took the bowl from Sylus and returned to the cauldron to ladle in more soup. Sylus heard blades clash outside and the faint sounds of hooves against gravel in the distance. He realized they’re in a tent. He’s surrounded by humans. The humans that killed his kin. Who killed his mother. A heat rages beneath his skin, his chest heaving. Sylus closed his eyes to calm himself.

“More soup?”

Sylus opened his eyes and took the bowl eagerly. He sipped slowly this time, still not bothering with the spoon. He took in the man’s features. Old, black hair speckled with white, a long beard, silver armor, a long sword hung at his hip. He wondered if all the men in this camp had weapons like that. Sylus straightened his back, becoming acutely aware of how defenseless he was. No weapons to defend himself. No wings to escape.

“Thank you.”

The man nodded.

“I must report to the Judicator, he wanted to know when you woke up. Get some more rest or explore the camp, but don’t go far.”

With that, the man left. Sylus set the bowl down and reached behind him to feel the base of his spine. The skin is tender, but no tail. He felt his head one more, the skin smooth where the horns once were. He sighed in relief. They thought he was human, maybe he had a chance.

Sylus spotted a set of clothes in the corner of the room. He stood and held up the clothing before him. They appeared to be his size and made of quality fabric. Much better than what he could find to clothe himself in years past. He stripped off his dirty clothing and pulled on the black pants and sleeveless tunic. The pants were a few sizes too big, but the buckles on the waist secured them nicely. He stepped out of the tent and squinted against the setting sun. At least a hundred men are camped here. There are dozens of tents propped up across the field and horses grazed nearby.

He strolled through the camp, taking in the humans gathered around campfires. Like his kin, they varied in appearance greatly. Some tall, some short, some thin, some wide. Some with hair on their face or no hair at all. He rubbed a hand along his jaw, feeling no hair, only the ridge of the patch of scales that ran up his neck toward his ear. He covered the scales with his hand, panic settling over him as he wondered what the humans thought of his scales.

Sylus quickly ran to a stream just on the outskirts of the camp. He crouched and looked for his reflection in the water. The moonlight lit up his face, making his silver hair glow. The water settled and he gasped at his reflection. He appeared… normal. He looked like all the other men in the camp. He ran a finger along the scales on his chest, feeling their rough texture, but seeing nothing but smooth skin. He lifted his hands, his talons appeared to be replaced by slender fingers. When his gaze returned to his face, he saw himself smiling.

“I look like them?” Sylus whispered.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sad or angry about his appearance. He’d wanted horns, a tail and wings for as long as he could remember. But now, he was surrounded by creatures that looked like him. And his “curse” had, somehow, masked the remaining features that set him apart. He leaned back on his heels and looked up to the moon.

“What do I do now?”

His heart ached. Could he really stay with these humans? The ones who killed his own mother? Learn to live like them? Embrace his appearance and suppress his draconic desires? He stood up and walked further from camp, toward the steep slope leading back into the valley he had called home his entire life. As he gazed out over the horizon, he saw a flicker of firelight, the faintest hint of smoke rising into the sky.

“We burned the bodies. We didn't want to risk some kind of filthy disease washing its way into the rivers and streams as they decayed.”

A deep voice rang out behind him. Sylus flinched.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you, young man. I was concerned when I didn’t find you in your tent.”

“I’m sorry, I just… I wanted to take a walk. I didn’t know…”

“It’s perfectly fine. I was surprised you strayed so far from camp. Given all that you’ve been through.”

Sylus nodded. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling cold and uncertain in the man's presence.

“I’ve built my army to fight even the most foul of beasts. You’re safe now.”

Sylus looked back to the valley. This man must be the Judicator, the one who started all of this. Who started the war against his kind. Sylus had a thousand questions, questions he never thought he’d get the answer to, let alone ask. But one gnawed at him and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Why?”

The man walked up beside Sylus, looking over at him with a brow raised in confusion.

“Why did you want the dragons gone?”

The man laughed, his voice deep and cruel. He slapped Sylus on the shoulder. Sylus bit his tongue to avoid saying something he would regret.

“Because those beasts only know one thing. Desire. And desire leads to corruption and greed. They were evil and it was my duty to rid these lands of their kind. I am proud of what I’ve accomplished.There are no dragons left to destroy the souls of my people.”

Sylus felt his chest tighten, his anger and disgust making it hard for him to breathe. His heart felt like it was breaking yet again. The pressure behind his eyes building as he pinched them closed. His eyes flew open when he felt a familiar twinge of pain tickle his scalp.

“Why do you ask boy? Did they fill your head with their lies?”

The pain was so intense Sylus couldn’t speak. Fear paralysed him. He silently prayed to the only one he ever believed in.

Mother, please. Don’t let them come back. Please…

But it was too late. He felt the flesh of his scalp split open once again and his body shook. He fell to the ground with his head in his hands. The man beside him lurched backwards, watching in horror as Sylus transformed. Sylus heard the footsteps of several men run toward them. His spine extended, his tail sweeping across the ground, knocking the Judicator off his feet.

“He’s a beast!” “How can this be?” “Is he a dragon?” “He doesn’t look like one, but he has horns! And a tail!” “He’s a horror!”

The Judicator stood over Sylus, peering down at his slumped form. He unsheathed his blade and kicked Sylus over onto his back.

Sylus groaned in pain, his tail coiling around him in a weak attempt to protect himself. He held his hands out, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing to speak.

“Please… don’t…”

“You disguise yourself and lie your way into our camp?! You intended to destroy our city! You foul creature!”

Sylus tried to crawl away from the crowd now gathering around him. His elbows sunk into the mud and his heels scrambling to gain traction. Other men were retrieving their weapons. Sylus gathered his remaining strength to dig his heels in and straighten his back, his legs shook as he stood. His hands still in front of him, shaking his head as he backed away from the men.

“We will not be fooled by you! You are a fiend. An evil, vile creature! You will not corrupt our souls!”

The Judicator lunged forward, Sylus reached out to try to stop the blade, but the man was too fast. His blade pierced Sylus’s chest. Sylus held the blade, as he stared into the eyes of the Judicator, the man sneered, pleased to see the fear in Sylus’s eyes.

Sylus gasped, the tears in his eyes spilled over, mixing with the dirt and blood across his face. He placed a foot behind him, trying to steady himself, but his tail swiped at the crowd viciously. Men went flying and some tumbled over the edge of the cliff into the valley below.

“Stop him!” The men shouted as they rushed towards Sylus.

In a flash, a dozen swords were thrust toward him. Sylus felt every jab, his body weakening with every blow. The Judicator stood before him, watching his men attack the dragon boy. A prideful smile plastered on his face. Sylus kept his eyes trained on the man, he became numb to the pain, only feeling his body being shoved.

Sylus fell to his knees, his hands crashing to the ground before him. He looked down to see half a dozen blades pierced through his chest. A sob broke free from his ravaged chest. He saw boots before him, the Judicators booming voice louder than his men's victory chants.

“The final dragon has been slain.”

He bent down and took the hilt of his sword, placing a foot on Sylus’s chest to gain leverage, he yanked the sword free kicking Sylus backward. Sylus tumbled backwards, his foot caught the edge of the cliff. He didn’t try to stop himself from falling, he closed his eyes as the wind howled in his ears. He felt the rocks of the cliffside against his back, his legs, his arms, his face as he rolled. The blades dislodged themselves and clanged against the rocks as they fell with him.

Sylus hit the rocky base of the valley with a brutal thud, the metallic clinks of the swords falling all around him. He had no strength left. He forced his eyes open when he heard the sound of shouts above him. Men poured over the side of the cliff, making their way down using rope, some swinging from rock to rock. Their quick descent stirred something in Sylus.

He was familiar with rage, but this was different. The pain his body felt transformed into something white hot. His legs burned as he stood. He stared up at the men climbing down to him. His right eye watered, it stung with every blink. Sylus wiped at his eye, but felt no tears. His vision darkened as his chest shook with something akin to laughter. Then everything went dark.

Her face, once again. Framed with silky strands of white hair. Her hand. Clutched a weapon of some kind. A sword? A faint golden glow swirled around her fingers and arm as she lifted the blade. Sylus felt the same searing pain in his chest. Blood splattered across her skin. Tears fell from her eyes.

“Sylus…” She whispered.

A gust of cold air swept across his face and he shivered in response. His eyes fluttered open, a blue sky filled with soft white clouds floating above him. Beams of sunlight broke through the clouds and shone down upon him. He felt the warmth and took a deep breath, that’s when he felt it, the pain. He lifted his head to see the wounds scattered across his body. He sat up, clutching his chest as he looked around.

Bodies surround him, men he saw at the camp. Sylus crawled to a boulder and used it to help him stand. Did he do this? How? And why did he feel so free and happy at the sight? A laugh bubbled up through his throat, catching him by surprise. The memory of his mother teaching him about the ancient dragon curse flooded his mind. Rage. Anger. Hatred. Something stronger. It took over and now…

Sylus walked further into the valley. He looked down to see a black red mist swirling toward him from the corpses. The mist felt refreshing, like a burst of cool air on a hot summer day. The mist swirled around his tail, up his spine to his horns, across his face and down his arms before funneling into his chest. The wound the Judicators sword had created glowed. He felt the wound close, but what replaced the flesh is bright like a ruby. The other wounds closed and his strength slowly returned as the mist continued to swirl around him.

With his wounds healed he felt the tension in his back grow. He hunched over and lurched forward, bracing his hands against the cliffside. The skin of his back split open, the pressure finally released and Sylus threw his head back letting out a roar. Crimson wings burst forth from the wounds. They stretch outwards, the breeze dusting over the newly exposed flesh. Sylus' chest heaved as he looked over his shoulder at his wings. He has wings. Wings.

He stood up straight. His tail swayed and his wings fluttered, eager to take flight. He hadn’t seen the Judicator among the bodies. He also hadn’t seen that girl. He didn’t know why he dreamt of her, but he’d seen her twice. She wasn’t there. Who was she?

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, shaking the image of her from his mind.

“If humans want a monster, they’ll get one.”

Sylus took a breath and flapped his wings hard, allowing instinct to take over.It was a foreign sensation, but as soon as his feet left the ground he sighed. Years of wishing to fly and here he is, flying over a valley filled with bodies.

He soared over the valley and towards the fields he had visited so often as a child. Tears sting his eyes as he lowered himself to the ground. He sat among the datura flowers, most withering in the summer heat. He picked one up and held it between his claws, allowing the tears to finally fall as he mourned the loss of his kin, his mother and the person he was. Only the monster remained.

“You were right. That is a sad story.”

Her words are slurred, fatigue finally winning the war. Sylus shifts slowly and leans towards her, lifting his hand to gently brush the hair out of her face.

“Is that really the end? Who was the girl? Did he find that judi-ma-cator guy?”

Sylus chuckles under his breath. His thumb moves to her cheek, stroking her soft skin. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She was nearly asleep.

“He did find the Judicator. And the girl… she was very important to him. The most important actually. But that’s a story for another time. Sleep. I’ll turn out the light.”

She lifts her hand to cover his, trapping it over her face.

“Wait.”

She stares up at him, her tired eyes glistening.

“At least tell me if he had a happy ending?”

Sylus gently removes her hand from over his. He pulls the blanket up over her shoulders and leans over to press a kiss to her temple. She closes her eyes once more, finally letting sleep take her. He smiles as he takes in her delicate features. He carefully stands and turns off the lamp beside the bed. He strolls to the door, but turns back to look at her before leaving.

“His story isn’t over yet.” He whispers.

He opens the door and gently closes it behind him, leaving his beloved to sleep peacefully.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

AN: I have no idea if this will be allowed to compete because it is pretty intense, but I wanted to write this regardless. I always crave the boys POV so this was a must. I hope you guys like it - and cry with me... If you want to give the X post some love, it's linked below.

X Post: (posting now)

#love and deepspace #sylus (love and deepspace)#lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin #sylus #sylus myth #lads #lnds #Where Drakeshadows Fall #abysm sovereign #love and deepspace fanfic #dragon sylus #sylus fanfic #sylus fanfiction

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arabellasleopardcoat · 1 year ago

Text

Categorical (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him.

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex (F receiving) Friends/ Academic rivals to lovers. Torturing of philosophers.

A/N: Man, translating modern texts into High Valyrian is a pain. I did my best. Also look! My first Aemond smut. For nerdy explanations, go beneath the dots.

“No.” You laugh, placing your cup down. “You will not convince me of Archmaester Rene's superiority to Septon Immanuel.”

It's very late on the library. You are sitting cross-legged on top of the table, Aemond properly sat on a chair. If a Maester were to see you, or god forbid, a Septa, you would be scolded until their face turned red.

You shouldn't be here. Not in the library or alone with him, either. A loud feast is going on outside, to celebrate Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. Neither of you wanted to stay for longer than was strictly required.

It had been your idea. Noticing how pent-up the Prince was becoming, you had offered to come here in the hopes of letting him blow off some steam in a constructive way. If you had been taught how to handle a sword, you would have invited him to the courtyard. But you had been born a woman near Oldtown. Words were your preferred weapons.

“Rene shaped his era!” Aemond protests, brandishing the Second Meditation in his hand. “Without him, Immanuel would be nothing.”

You scoff. Here he goes again. One would think, for such a devout man, he would be kinder to the Septon’s views on philosophy.

“That's a bit much. Did Prince Aegon spike your drink?”

Aemond and you… It was a weird thing. As the daughter of a member of the small council, you had been brought to King’s Landing to foster alongside Princess Helaena. But as a girl from The Reach, you had little interest in embroidery and chasing bugs. No, you were more interested in learning politics and new languages. It meant that you were closer to her brother than her.

At first, both of you had been hesitant to break out of your roles, but soon, having someone who was as passionate as you were about learning turned seductive. Sometimes, too seductive.

“Perhaps you are right.” The Prince laughs, and you let your expression turn hopeful for a second. Had you finally defeated Aemond in an argument? You could actually dance from happiness because the man was as stubborn as they came. "Only on being a bit much. Because while that might have been exaggerated, you know I am right about any Maester being superior to the Septons in terms of exploration of philosophical themes. Septons stray into ethics too much, and do not solve the truly important questions.”

“And what is exactly wrong with ethics?” You frown. You have dedicated yourself to the pursuits of understanding how a rational human being behaves in society. It's interesting, as an overthinker. Obsessing over the existence of a universal way of doing the right thing occupies most of your days.

How different would life be, if there was a universal guideline to follow and have things always turn right? How easier, if you knew how to get the best outcome, each time?

“Nothing, I guess. If you like ethics, I am willing to indulge you. But Immanuel?” Aemond shakes his head, sliding the book to a corner of the table. It’s opened in the middle of one of the passages, one you know well.

One you hate well, too. A thing that thinks. A thing that doubts. Cogito ergo sum. You were not sold on the idea of reality being the product of a particularly malicious demon, but it was on-brand for Aemond. To you, instead, it ended up reading more like the ramblings of a madman.

“What’s wrong with him? His work is revolutionary!” And it is true. You are not exaggerating. No one else has done such a thorough job of explaining how one should behave, and how society and laws play into our choices.

“Who likes him, anyway? He is a nightmare.” Aemond shakes his head.

“To your logic self, perhaps. I find him very inspiring.” You try to keep a straight face as you say it, but your lips are twitching into a smile.

You are morally obligated to defend Immanuel's honor. He is the basis of your whole studies. But you have to admit, he is not the easiest read. Or the most interesting. The Archmaester is much more compelling in that aspect, but you would rather die than prove Aemond right.

“You are lying through your teeth right now. What would the Septon think of that?”

“Oh, shut up, you. It still doesn't prove your point.” And honestly, it’s a tactic so low, it impresses you. Moral attacks? Really? You grin at Aemond and he grins back, knowing you caught him red-handed. He shrugs.

“Do you want me to prove my point?” His hand taps on your knee. The Prince is not meant to touch you like this, no matter how innocent. You are not supposed to be this close to a man who is not part of your family or your betrothed. Yet, he never seems to care.

You and Aemond touch often. Always innocent touches, of course. A hand that lingers too long when passing over a quill. Lips that drink from the same cup, from the exact place your lips have left a mark. You circle each other, you chase each other.

You marvel each time he does, at the wonderful reactions he manages to prompts from you. Heart skipping a beat, palms getting sweaty, pupils dilating. You are in love. So in love it hurts, and it tears at you, but also feels like floating and sitting on the softest clouds.

It’s exquisite, the pain of loving. Overwhelming. Like standing in the freezing rain. Makes you feel so alive but so utterly lonely, knowing the object of your affections will never see you as you want him too.

You are his friend. The one he can count on to discuss the latest book or the intricacies of a long forgotten society. Never a woman.

How you long for him to look your way, just once. For his eye to linger on your lips a little too long. His hands to stray away from proper touches, towards intimate caresses.

And it hurts, when it doesn’t happen. You clear your throat, vanish those thoughts, and plaster a smile on your face. It’s easy, pulling witty remarks out of the tip of your tongue. It always is, with him. The debate manages to be lively and profound, minds bouncing from topic to topic until you exhaust yourselves. You make each other better, sharper, smarter.

"Of course, Prince of Arguing.” You tease, eyes crinkling at the corners. “No rhetoric. Or fallacies. Tu quoque.”

“I don't need them. I can do it with pure empirical evidence.” Aemond taunts right back, leaning forward on his chair. It sounds strange. More charged than usual. The tension between the two of you building, rising. Suddenly, it’s not a conversation about Septon Immanuel and Archmaester Rene.

“Oh?”

It’s all the permission he requires. Aemond gets up, abruptly. The chair falls back with a loud clatter. Neither of you pay it any attention.

“Look me in the eye.” He says, stepping closer. Your breath hitches at the proximity, but you decide there is nothing wrong with indulging him. The library is empty and no one will look for either of you. “Iksā iā run bona iotāpagon.”

You arch an eyebrow. Of course, he picks the one language you have yet to be able to master.

“Valyrian. How fancy.”

Aemond ignores you. You have no choice but to look up at him, with the way he is looming over you. This close, you can see his pupils are blown, and he looks slightly nervous. Does he think you are a dragon, perhaps, that he is speaking High Valyrian in such a soothing tone? You are about to make that joke, but it dies in your throat when he gets even closer, nose nearly bumping against yours.

"Bona umbagon, bona vestras kessa, bona vestras daor.” He mutters, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You tilt your head up, like a flower moving to follow her sun. Whatever he is saying, you don’t know, but you recognize the words for yes and no. You do not dare speak, afraid of breaking whatever is finally building up between the two of you.

So many months spent playing cat and mouse, so many months making him give chase. Queen Alicent gushing about how good you would look together, how much she wants another daughter. Nights spent in the library, arguing just for the sake of it.

It doesn’t feel like a game, anymore.

Aemond leans forward, pupil dilated and dark. “Bona gīmissiks byka.” His nose bumps against yours. Your pulse accelerates. To jump or not to jump? His eye goes from yours, to your lips. You watch the slight smug quirk of that smart mouth you love so. It’s then when you get a hold of yourself. You love him too much to lose him to this if it were to go wrong. That line you don’t dare cross. You try to get off the table you are sitting on.

Aemond grabs your arm, not forcefully, but enough to hold you in place. You could get out of it if you wanted to.

“Bona daor gīmissiks olvie.” He whispers, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand. Helpless against him, you nuzzle his hand. Fervently, as if promising something, anything, he keeps going. “Bona ēza jorrāelagon, vēdros, ebas, daoriot ebas.”

Jorrāelagon. Love. A confession. For your ears only, in a way that fits both of you. High Valyrian has always been the language of the arts, after all.

Unable to resist him any longer, you kiss him. Forgetting all about how you should behave, how the library is empty and that if you two get caught, your reputation would be ended. You just couldn’t wait anymore.

You would know his voice among a thousand voices. That's why you know, even when it is a whisper, that Aemond is still speaking into the kiss, smugly.

“Bona ēza ēdrugon, bona ēza dijāves.”

You kiss him harder. He is quoting something against your lips, against your skin, as he presses lush and desperate kisses to the skin of your jaw. As you suck a bruise in the hollow of his throat.

He pushes you gently to lay on the table, giving you a wicked look. When you nod, Aemond hikes up your skirts, exposing your legs and lower stomach.

“And to think we could have been doing this for so long.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your belly button, smiling as you squirm desperately.

“Quoting things in High Valyrian?” You ask, unable to not tease him.

“That, too.” He laughs. “If you knew it, you would have figured out it was Rene's Second Meditation.”

You laugh, soon melting into a moan when he starts nibbling at your thighs.

“I’m not sold on his superiority, yet.”

“Trust me, my Lady.” Aemond grins. “When I am finished, you will be singing his praises.”

“Aemond…” You say, suddenly apprehensive. Despite trusting him, you are a smart and educated woman. You know that even a hint of doubt could ruin your reputation. And while you would gladly give your maidenhead to him, you do not feel comfortable enough to enjoy it. “I… We are not married.”

“I know.” He says, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “I’m not that kind of man.”

“What are you doing, then?” You push yourself up on your elbows, to be able to look at him. Aemond remains crouched between your legs, busy with sucking a bruise on the juncture between thigh and hip.

“Finally, a subject where I am more knowledgeable than you.” The Prince smirks, before licking over your hole. You bite your lower lip to keep quiet, trying to stay still on the table.

“My Prince…” You whine. It’s a strange feeling, but a pleasurable one. His mouth is scorching hot over your sex, and his tongue is doing things that you are pretty sure are considered a sin by the Faith of the Seven. A shame you were never very religious.

You cannot think straight, with the way his tongue is lazily playing with your pearl. You try to be polite about it, but the moans leave your mouth unabashedly. If it were not for the feast happening outside, the whole Red Keep would hear your moans. You hope the music is enough to drown it. For your sake and his.

“Ah, weren’t you the most eloquent Lady in The Reach? Finish your sentence.” Aemond mocks, pulling back. It doesn’t make any sense to you, your line of thought long-lost to the pleasure he is delivering you. Unashamedly, you try to grind your hips against his face, but Aemond just tuts. “Use your words.” His voice is filled with the same smugness as when he beats Ser Criston on the training yard, or manages to make you change your mind on a subject.

The respite lets you think. Without him assaulting your senses, you try to recall what it was that you two were discussing. Knowledge. Aemond had been saying he had more knowledge than you about something, and his phrasing had been ambiguous. You had been about to ask him what he meant.

“I meant to…” He swirls his tongue around your pearl, making you cut off your question, again. He keeps at it, making your voice turn shaky. You cannot think straight, or speak without moaning. Not with the way his tongue presses at your entrance, not with how he keeps torturing your poor pearl. The bud throbs and feels swollen, and you can tell he is taking advantage of it. “Ask. I was going to… Prince Aemond!”

“What?” Aemond sits back on his heels, perching his chin on your thigh. Caressly, he takes off the eye patch. You respectfully don’t look. You know it’s not because he trusts you, or because he wants you to see it. It’s because he is about to dive right in between your thighs and with how wet you are, the garment would get soaked. And it would show. You know your body well enough to know that your juices would stain the dark leather.

Eventually, the night will come to an end and you two would have to return to your separate chambers through hallways full of people. If the Prince were to walk back with a stained eye patch, tongues would talk. More so, when your absence was noted. Half the Red Keep knows already how much time you spend together. He would not risk the stain on your reputation or on his. If it were found out you two were partaken in such deviant acts, both of you would be shunned.

So, keeping your eyes firmly on the ceiling to not embarrass him or force him to share something he is not ready for yet, you speak.

“I can’t speak with your mouth doing… Doing… That!”

Your cheeks burn. You are unsure how to name the act, and if perhaps you got over your shyness, you would ask him.

Aemond's response is clipped. Irritated.

“You should have thought about it before denying us for so long. Keep arguing. Or I’ll stop.” And it’s not your fault, really. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. On the contrary. So focused on your feelings of admiration towards the Prince, you had been blind to his. You had never thought your love was reciprocated, and so were set on stomping on it until nothing but friendship and camaraderie remained.

Never would you have thought him angry at your constant shying away. The thought makes butterflies surge in your stomach. The fact that Aemond wants you so much that he is angry at the thought of not having you sooner has you weak at the knees.

Aemond takes your pearl between his lips, once more. He is careful, so the pleasure only edges to uncomfortable. You whine. He pulls away. You scream out on betrayal, before remembering exactly what Aemond asked you to.

“I meant… Ask if you meant you knew…” And back at it, he goes, this time rewarding you by licking a path from your hole towards your pearl. “Ah! More than me in…”

Too lost in your pleasure, you grab a handful of his hair, bucking your hips on his face. At this angle, Aemond’s nose rubs you just right, and you find yourself chasing the friction.

“Go on. I quite enjoy where this is heading.” He snickers, the vibrations doing wonders to make you lose your line of thought even more. But the threat of him stopping the wonderful, wonderful things he is doing is enough for you to rack your brain for anything to say.

“Knew more about matters of the flesh or if you meant… Aemond, Aemond, stop it! I can’t think.” You beg, on the verge of tears. Just as you are speaking, he starts sucking hard on your pearl. You have never, in your life, been as frustrated. It’s impossible to do his bidding when he is torturing you. Aemond has set you up for an impossible task. You would rather have the feeling stop than have to endure it a bit longer. Your body trembles, shaking and writing on the table. “High Valyrian!”

“Both. A few times.” Aemond answers, and you mumble back something incoherent. You are near something, a cusp of pleasure so intense you fear you might shatter from the force of it. You scream, shrill and high, feeling your body absolutely gush at his ministrations.

As you pant down from your high, Aemond tenderly fixes your skirts. He smooths your dress down, making sure there are no creases or suspicious stains. Completely at ease, as if he was not making you reach a peak that had your legs shaking mere moments ago, Aemond puts back on his eye patch.

You remain laying on the table, flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He gives you a mischievous look, and leans down to kiss you.

“Will you teach me, my Prince?” You ask, when you two part. It comes out more eager than you would have wanted, but you don’t care. You are not afraid anymore of showing how head over heels you are for him. And in the typical fashion of Targaryen men, Aemond seems to delight in the attention.

“Trust me. I intend to.” He pulls you to a sitting position. Still shaky, you cling to him. Aemond keeps grooming you, fixing your hair and tugging at your sleeves. You rest your head against his breastbone.

“Long engagement?”

“Short. I would marry you tomorrow, were I able to.” He answers, as he fixes a button that had come undone in all your trashing. Then, he grabs the Second Meditation and presses it into your hand. “So?”

“Yes. You win. Archmaester Rene is superior to Septon Immanuel.”

Credits:

The ideas that Aemond and the reader are discussing belong, of course, to Kant and Descartes. The Second Meditation of Descartes as a prelude to sex was my sexual awakening, during a philosophy class at like… I don’t know. Sixteen? There is this show our philosophy teacher showed us, where a philosophy teacher is the main character. Merlí. In the first episode, the Philosophy teacher seduces the English teacher by reciting the Second Meditation in the original French. As the years passed, and I too entered my love and hate philosophy phase, I never lost that memory. I really wanted to write something with it, and my Aemond’s fics tend to be more artsy.

Also, forgive me for using philosophy from the 1500 - 1600 AC. I just can’t find it in myself to make the debate on how many angels can dance on a pinhead fascinating (That one would be period, although not Westeros, accurate) Hm. I should have gone for Aquino, maybe.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic

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