#love my brother but he could not boil water

[little-diable]

Wild creations - Tyler Owens (smut)

I just love pairings like these. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler is the best friend of reader’s brother. When he comes visit their vacation home, it’s time for them to finally give in to the feelings both had tried to swallow ever since they had been teenagers.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, idiots in love, brother’s best friend setting, some slight angst

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.2k words)

“I’m not giving up my room, Jake.” Her voice dripped with annoyance and anger, hands pressed to her sides as she stared her bother down. It had only been a handful of hours since her return to their family’s vacation home, set on enjoying a week off with just her closest family around. Plans that were now slipping through her fingers like warm sand.

“Oh, come on, Tyler hasn’t been sleeping on a comfortable bed for weeks, you’ve slept in the guest bedroom before.” Jake leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest while studying (y/n) with an almost bored expression.

“And why is that any of my problem? He’s your friend, you can sleep in the other room then. Now fuck off.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have come visit the same time as her brother, the one person she loved more than any words could describe, the one person she could also strangle with her bare hands more often than she’d like to admit.

“My mattress is shit and you know it. Please, (y/n), it’s only for three nights.” The deep sigh leaving her drew a bright smirk onto Jake’s lips. He pushed himself away from the door frame to step closer, to press a kiss to her forehead and to mumble a soft “Thank you”.

She watched her brother leave with tired eyes, wondering how she’d make it through this week. (Y/n) was no stranger to being around Tyler, one of Jake’s closest friends since their early high school days, but ever since she’s kept her distance. Tyler was handsome, smart, wickedly funny, a dangerous mixture she couldn’t get involved with - especially not since he was one of Jake’s friends.

……

“So how many tornadoes has it been so far? Quite the active season, right?” (Y/n) tried to keep her focus on her food as her parents kept chatting with Tyler, who had arrived a while ago. Even though she had tried to avoid him for as long as possible, she hadn’t managed to stay away for long, pulled into a tight hug that had lasted a handful of seconds too long. A hug that had made her heart skip a beat. A hug that had left her feeling light headed and dizzy.

“Too many to count, but it has been more active than expected, that's for certain.” Tyler’s smile showed off his pearly white teeth, eyes wandering around the table to focus on (y/n). She tried to ignore his gaze on her, not daring to give in that easily, but as his knee bumped hers, her eyes automatically snapped up to meet his piercingly bright ones. “How’ve you been, (y/n)? Jake told me about your new position.”

An almost half hearted, rushed reply left her, rambling away about her new position while heat crawled up her neck. Tyler’s grin was unwavering, glued to his lips, a grin that made her hands ball into fists as the realisation swapped over her that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The others didn’t seem to catch on, lost in their own conversation about whatever Jake was telling their parents.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in your room, darlin’. I know how much you love that space.” His hand rested on her thigh for a moment while he reached for one of the food stacked plates, he squeezed her warm skin before letting go again - a touch that felt as if he had poured boiling water over her skin, forced to accept that Tyler was peeling away the layers of restraint one by one.

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice, thanks to your best friend.” A loud laugh left Tyler as he shook his head at her. For a few more seconds, he looked down at her, studying the woman he had always found himself fascinated by.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind sharing the bed with you, and I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Now she really needed to look away, staring down at her food with her jaw muscles clenched. She had tried to forget about that night for years, how she had shared a bed with him drunk off her face, pressed to his side with his arms tightly wrapped around her frame. She didn’t remember much of that night, and perhaps it was for the better that way, yet the way she had felt overly protected and comfortable in his arms was forever etched into her memory.

“Jake would kill you.” The words rolled off her tongue a tad bit too loud, catching her brother’s attention who now looked at the two from his seat. Though while (y/n) kept her gaze locked onto her brother’s features, Tyler’s hand found its way back to her knee, comfortably resting there. She struggled to focus on anything but his closeness, the warm touch of his slightly calloused fingertips.

“Why would I kill him?” Panic flushed through (y/n), she cleared her throat before trying to scramble something random together.

“(Y/n) knows that you’re a sore loser, and I’m all for kicking your ass in another game tonight.”

……

She was deep in thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror while brushing her teeth. (Y/n) pondered over her choices, wondering if she should leave earlier to escape Tyler’s closeness. Being around him had always been hard, but today something seemed to have shifted. It appeared as if he was set on teasing her, on touching her at any given chance to make her body buzz in excitement.

“Can I come in?” Her eyes snapped towards his bright ones, staring at him in the mirror. Tyler didn’t wait for her reply, he stepped into the bathroom before closing the door behind himself.

Wordlessly, he came to rest next to her, keeping his eyes on the mirror with a bright smile tugging on his lips. She watched him squeeze some toothpaste onto his toothbrush before he mimicked her movements. His sweats hung dangerously low on his hips, telling her that he’d only need to stretch his arms to show off the muscular stomach she had seen too many times to count, forced to endure being around him whenever hot summer days were upon them.

(Y/n) had to avert her eyes, trying to speed up her movements to flee from this very room as soon as possible. She tried to be as graceful as possible with spitting out and rinsing her mouth before drying her face, but the second she tried to turn from Tyler, his hand snapped out to find her wrist. It only took him a handful of moments to get rid of his toothbrush and to lean back against the sink while pulling her against him.

Almost automatically her hands found his chest, pressed against his muscular body to stop herself from tumbling into him. Wide eyes stared up at him, getting lost in the rich colour reminding her of a summer morning, filled with excitement about what the new day would bring, and yet there was a depth to the colour she could barely pinpoint, something dark almost.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Tyler’s hands rested on her waist, leaving (y/n) to curse herself for only wearing an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of panties he could easily get a glimpse of. Her mouth was dry, throat closing up as she rang for words to protest, to speak lies neither of them would believe.

“It’s late, Tyler, let me get some sleep in, please.” She mumbled the words, eyes no longer focused on his but rather on his neck. His eyes burned holes into her skin with their intense gaze, a burning fire she couldn’t escape from.

“Not before you tell me what I did wrong.” Tyler’s words managed to gain her attention, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He hadn’t done anything wrong - besides the teasing that had grown more prominent than ever before. He wasn’t the one to blame for her distance, god, she doubted there was anything Tyler could do wrong when it came to her. Oblivious as one could be, that was all he was.

“Nothing, Tyler. There’s nothing going on, I’m just tired.” Slowly, his hand began to move. His fingers grasped her chin, forcing (y/n) to look up at him while he silently studied her for a few seconds. He shook his head at her, as if she could read his thoughts and knew exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing but questions neither had an answer to.

“Talk to me, please. It’s just me, darlin’. I don’t like that weird tension between us.” Her eyes fluttered close for a second, followed by a deep, almost angry breath leaving her. With her heart in her throat, she pushed herself away from him, forcing his hands to let go of her waist at the unexpected need for distance.

“But that’s the problem, Tyler! It’s you, and it always has been. And I don’t know how much longer I can endure that.” Her glassy eyes were focused on the floor as she turned her back to him. He was too slow to catch up with her, still focused on the unexpected words that had surprised them both. All Tyler could do was watch her leave, blending in with the darkness lingering in the hallway - a darkness perfectly hiding the tears that began to roll down her cheeks as if a cloud of rain was following her around.

…..

“Tyler?” Her voice dripped with sleep, eyes focused on the dark frame stepping into the guest bedroom. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was him, moving closer towards the bed with the mattress that gave in the second his knee met the soft fabric. He laid down next to her, pulling (y/n) against his chest with a sigh. It had been a few hours since their run-in and her accidental confession, words both hadn’t been able to forget ever since.

“I’m used to chasing tornadoes, to speed after those powerful, wild creations that can destroy everything and everybody who stands in their way. I’m good with asking myself questions we currently have no answers to, because nature will always be quicker and smarter than us. But I am a fool when it comes to you, and I’ve always been. I accepted that I’ll never get the answers I’d like to hear, well, all until tonight at least.” She turned in his grasp, needing to look at his features the lingering darkness hid almost completely. Wordlessly, (y/n) waited for him to keep on speaking, to give room to the pain dripping from his words.

“I fell in love with you as a teenager, I tried to stop myself, knowing that you’re my best friend’s sister. It’s wrong and probably fucked up of me, but I can’t get rid of these feelings for you. I tried, really did, you met my ex-girlfriends, and I guess it wasn’t fair on them. They were a distraction, a nice way to pass some time while my feelings for you kept growing stronger. You’ve always been there for me, always been by my side. I don’t want to fight that when there’s a small chance of you also feeling what I feel.” Her body forced her to shuffle around, to move closer and to press a soft kiss to his lips. Both their breaths hitched in their chests at the electricity buzzing through their bodies.

Tyler chased her lips, needing to deepen the kiss while realising that this was her way of giving in, of telling him that she had been plagued by the same feelings he hadn’t been able to shake. Without letting go of her, Tyler rolled (y/n) onto her back, allowing him to rest between her thighs as her legs found their way around his waist.

It felt like a dream, almost. Something both had imagined and dreamt of for years, all while accepting that it would always stay like that, a figment of their imagination, something that lived and breathed with the changing seasons. Their tongues met, slow at first, testing out the newfound territory before giving in to the pull that threatened to drown them.

“I’m so in love with you, and I’m so scared of it.” (Y/n) confessed against his lips, words that made him groan while kissing his way down her neck. Tyler instantly found the spot that made her arch her back off the mattress, pressing her chest against his in search of more, of something else he’d be willing to give to her.

“I love you too, darlin’, fuck.” Her shirt was pulled from her frame, exposing her naked chest to his glistening eyes before his followed moments later. (Y/n)’s trembling fingers explored his abs, his strong muscles that tensed beneath her touch. Tyler allowed her to have this moment, to grow comfortable with this new sensation - all while he tried his hardest to slow down, to appreciate every passing second.

“We don’t have to do anything, I don’t want to rush you.” Tyler’s whispers left (y/n) smiling, unable to bite down the heat that found its way straight to her aching core.

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, I don’t want to miss another chance.” It was all he needed to hear before kissing her again. With his weight shifted onto his knees, he let his fingers pull on her panties, pushing them aside to explore her warm folds. Her bundle of nerves was pulsing in need, desperate to feel his calloused fingertips on her burning up body.

She got lost in the kiss, hands finding their way to his hair to pull on his roots while pressing her hips further against his touch. He mumbled something about her impatience, words she spared no attention to as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. A moan left her, a sound that was muffled by the hand she pressed against her mouth, scared to wake those who slept only a few rooms down from this one.

“Gotta be quiet, darlin’, don’t need your brother to kill me tonight.” Her soft chuckles turned into another moan as he sped up his movements. Tyler was teasing her, preparing her for his twitching cock and the way he’d fuck her to make a silent promise to them both, this was something that would last, something both had fought hard for.

(Y/n) struggled to keep breathing, pulled away from reality by his touch, the way he fucked her with his big fingers while rubbing against her bundle. Tyler parted from her to spit down onto her cunt, mixing his saliva with her arousal in an almost possessive matter that made her moan once again.

He could tell that she was already close by the way her walls fluttered around his digits, begging him for more he wouldn’t give her - at least not before burying his cock inside of her. Seconds before her high could drown her, he let go, pulling his fingers away to bring them up to her mouth. Wordlessly, she parted her lips, sucking his skin clean to taste herself on her tongue, a foreign sensation she couldn’t help but enjoy. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the way he looked at her. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the pride and love swimming in his darkening pupils. Whatever it was, it left her feeling eager for more.

“I don’t have a condom on me.” His words were panted, torn between too many sensations as her hands pushed his boxers down his hips.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.” Tyler nodded at her words, telling her that he had been tested only a few days ago. She knew that she could trust him, that he’d never willingly hurt her, something she had never felt before - a newfound trust that left her nodding her head, telling him that she wanted this as much as he did.

“Look at me, darlin’.” Her eyes flickered back up to meet his, keeping her gaze on him while he aligned himself with her entrance, slowly pushing into her. For a moment, nothing could be heard, nothing but stressed pants and a silent whimper. Sounds that were tried to be muffled by a teeth-clashing kiss guiding both.

He moved carefully, pulling out and pushing in again to let her adjust to his size, trying to hold himself back from moving too roughly. Only as he felt (y/n)’s fingernails scratching at his skin did he allow himself to add more pace. Their bodies met over and over again, high on the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching her, nudging against her swollen spot with every thrust.

This moment was a consonance, a perfect blend of emotions and sounds sealing a deal their hearts had already signed. This was something for the long run, something both would pour love and effort into while trying to adjust to the newfound love and trust they’d need to share with others soon. But tonight was all about them, about the way their bodies fit together perfectly, how they seemed to belong together with their hearts beating in sync and their accelerating pants matching up.

“You’re so perfect, fuck, you were made for me.” (Y/n) could only moan in agreement, head tossed back, neck bared to his wandering lips. She moved a hand between their bodies, rubbing her pulsing bundle to give her the push she could already taste on the back of her tongue. Her free hand pulled him down, fingers dug into his neck to hold him close for another kiss drowning out the sounds of her intense orgasm.

Tyler kept snapping his hips, burying himself inside of her over and over again as her orgasm washed through her. She was trembling, begging for him to give in and feel the same intensity she had been a foreigner to until this very night. Just the sight of (y/n), buried beneath him with a love-drunken expression tugging on her features was enough to set him free. Tyler followed her down the edge with a groan, face nuzzled in the crook of her neck to deeply inhale her scent.

“I don’t think sex has ever felt that way before.” Her mumbled confession made him grin with pride simmering inside of him. Tyler lifted his head, he pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before cupping her cheek with his big hand.

“I’ll gladly fuck you like that every single night for the rest of our lives, given your brother won’t kill me tomorrow morning.”

[17020]

“look in the mirror. what do you see?”

rin itoshi sees his brother, who absolutely haunts him everywhere he goes. he’s unable to look at himself in the mirror, and he often washes his face and brushes his teeth in the shower to avoid looking at his face. if he can’t, he’ll let the water boil until the mirror is completely foggy. he doesn’t think he’s obvious about it until you ask him to join you in your skincare routine, and when you ask him the question, he freezes. he struggles to form a sentence, the only thing he manages to squeeze out is “my brother.”

and to convince your boyfriend to love his reflection is hard. and you try. really hard. it’s baby steps with rin itoshi, as you offered to cut his bangs when they got too long. it’s an adorable sight, to see your boyfriend swinging his legs while he sits on your bathroom sink, as you lean closer to him with a pair of hair scissors. and when you’re done and the floor is filled with little dark hairs scattered all over it, rin finally turns to look in the mirror. and for some strange reason, there isn’t a trace of disdain in his expression.

there is a small, minuscule smile. and you ask him “what’re you looking at, rin?”, and he murmurs a small “nothing”, to which you smile. you let him know how handsome he looks, and his eyebrows furrow. because it’s strange to not live under his brother’s shadow. it’s strange to not be compared. it’s strange for him to not feel as bad as he does when there are mirrors around. “i still see him” is what he says, completely defeated. though, what you said next makes him chuckle.

“you wanna try eyeliner?”

sae itoshi brushes you off immediately, changing the topic of conversation. he’s cold all of a sudden, blaming it on his lack of sleep. and you know he’s lying through his teeth, yet say nothing about it. and you see the sudden look of disappointment on his face, and know it has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with himself.

even when suggesting something like mirror sex, he declines in a heartbeat. as much as he loves you, sae itoshi despises mirrors. you are on a mission to know why. even when you and him go out in madrid, his gaze is always on you or on the ground, not even bothering to look at his reflections on water fountains or windows.

after subtly pointing out his habits, he crumbles. bad. he stares at you dead in the eyes and asks, “do you ever see yourself and think of what could’ve been?”, and you stare at him in disbelief. he realizes he probably worded it the wrong way. “i meant my career”, he corrects himself as you feel a weight lifted from your shoulders. not entirely, though.

the silence moves him to explain himself forward, “i see myself and i see him. i think of what could’ve been if i hadn’t come here.” and you cry. and you swear you could see his eyes glistening too. pulling him into your embrace, you whisper how our actions cannot be erased, but we can move forward and show we have changed through our actions. his grip around you tightens as you remind him how much you love him. he deeply inhales, letting out a shaky breath.

“i think i regret turning out like this.”

taglist (open, link in navi): @kaiser1ns @stunies @ryescapades @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @maruflix @phinbie @vinomino @kunitsyn @icesour

[silentmagnolias]

Uninvited

Choso

Wc. 2501.

Summary: Sweet, utterly down bad Choso finds a pair of your panties falling out of your tote bag that you’d left in the bathroom floor of his apartment. What happens when you return unexpectedly to find him in the most compromising of positions?

Cw. Panty sniffing, masturbation.

“Ah, fuck I forgot my bag up at your place.,” you whined and cursed a little at the realization you’d left your bag—with your phone and clothes up the at the apartment Choso and Yuji shared.

Yuji snorted in response and Megumi raised a brow at your forgetfulness. You’d spent the majority of the summer with the trio (and occasionally, Yuji’s older brother, Choso) beating the heat in the complex’s ample swimming pool or galavanting around Tokyo on days you all weren’t on missions. Being an older, more experienced grade-one sorcerer, the trio had kind of unofficially adopted you as a mentor-turned-friend.

“I’m positive you’re going to have dementia by the time you’re 35.” Yuji joked from his place in the pool, attempting to swim on his back, earning a swift flick to the Adam’s apple from Nobara.

“You’re one to talk, you dunce.” She spat and Yuji instantly choked, righting himself in the water to throw her a petulant glare and rub a hand over the sore spot where she’d flicked him. You shook your head at the resulting banter that broke out between the two and snorted at the ‘please-god-make-it-stop’ glance Megumi threw in your direction. You snagged Yuji’s beach towel from the off-white deck chair and wrapped it around your middle, giving Megumi a sympathetic mock salute.

“I’ll be back!” You called over your shoulder and set off toward the apartment to grab your bag— and hopefully sneak a bite of whatever Choso had been cooking whenever you’d arrived earlier.

══════════════════

From the moment you had left to the pool with the younger sorcerers, Choso’s mind was on you, wandering to the way you’d stood so closely to him in the kitchen when you’d first greeted him— like you always did when you’d visit. You looked out for his little brother after all, so naturally he’d like you too. Maybe more than like. It was a warm, pleasant closeness that bloomed slowly over time, always casual. Always sweet. As he finished up in the kitchen, he allowed himself to think of something he’d shamelessly found himself indulging in as of late when he was alone.

A vision of domestic bliss— a sweet thought of you in the kitchen with him, wearing one of his T-shirts helping him learn to bake some horrendously sinful American recipe you liked to talk about.

Biscuits? Yeah, those.

Those are good. His eyes glazed over as he could practically see you in his T-shirt, smiling sweetly like you always did and talking to him as you sat on the countertop. He knew he was in trouble but he knew better than to jeopardize the friendship you’d built together. So he allowed himself to just stand there, head cocked to the side with his eyes glazed over, daydreaming of the things you’d talk about together sitting on that countertop.

He was so lost his reverie, he’d almost let the soup he had simmering boil over, but he fumbled and caught it just in time before turning the burner off and setting the pot to the side. He figured everyone would be up soon anyway, so might as well leave it out anyway.

His thoughts wandered once more to the way his T-shirt would probably hit just at the middle of your thighs and would ride up revealing the faintest slivers of the plushest parts of your upper thighs. He shivered at the thought.

God, he loved your thighs. Especially the way they looked in that bikini earlier... He cursed himself slightly for being too shy to join you at the pool but he couldn’t risk…. That happening. His gaze traveled down to the way his cock hung heavy in his pants, half hard already just thinking about your thighs. Thinking of the way they’d feel beneath the palms of his hands. The way the tops of them would pleasantly squish and give with every firm squeeze of his hand.

He swallowed thickly at the thought.

That was one physical aspect of his humanity he held immense disdain for. He felt pathetic popping a boner at the mere thought of your body and what made it worse, is lately it had become something that would be impossible to ignore until he relieved himself. Often, the nights you visited ended that way, with him in his bedroom whining and fucking his hand until he made the biggest mess of himself.

But even that wasn’t relieving. No.

No.

He needed more— something To make himself feel better.

How frustrating.

With a shaky sigh, he made his way to the restroom to grab the new bottle of lotion he’d purchased just for this purpose only to stop in his tracks at the sight of your tote bag on the floor. Your tote bag that had your clothes haphazardly falling out of the bag— including a pair of skimpy grey, rib knit panties.

Oh.

Choso’s breath quickened at the litany of impure, very human thoughts running through his mind coupled with an undertone of deep shame that almost made him leave the bathroom and opt to jack himself off with spit instead.

It wouldn’t hurt to just look, right? To feel them..

His hands twitched at his sides in the open doorway of the bathroom as he contemplated his actions.

But he couldn’t stop himself from wondering as he stared at the skimpy fabric of your panties— how you smelled there. He loved your scent, always lingering for an extra moment when you’d hug him just to breathe deeply and relish the soapy, vanilla vibe you filled his nose with—The smell of you permeating his soul when you were near. That had to be nirvana.

He gulped down the remainder of his trepidation and decidedly stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door in a hurry and sitting himself down on the closed lid of the commode.

He reached down gingerly to grab the ruddy old tote bag and carefully sifted through its contents as if he were performing the most delicate task. He pulled out your T shirt and instantly brought the soft cotton to his nose, inhaling deeply, a low rumble of pleasure emanating deep from within his chest.

The smell of you was like an instant balm to his nerves, drowning out remaining apprehension he had in his mind. He could always wash everything, making sure you came back up from the pool to a warm meal and fresh-out-the-dryer clothes.

He inhaled greedily again, his cock now aching and his heart bounding in his chest from the excitement of the situation. He’d never done anything like this before.. but you smelled so good.

Eager for more, and more than a little high from his actions, he reached straight for what he’d really been curious about— the panties. They were surprisingly light and soft between his fingers, the lace trim and rib knit material providing deliciously contrasting sensations against his fingertips. He let out a shuddering breath as he held them up, inspecting them, taking in and imagining the thought of them snug against your hips and ample bottom. Against the space between your legs. It was enough to make his mouth water.

Without thinking about any further, he brought the material to his nose to inhale and he was most definitely not disappointed. His eyes rolled back in his head at the musky, heady scent of you that enveloped him. This felt like an entirely different level of wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. He was curious and completely down bad for you, that he couldn’t deny.

His breath came in gasps as he practically jerked his pants down to free his rigid cock from the fabric’s confines. He was already practically oozing pre-come from his flushed tip and his hips twitched and rolled of their own accord from excitement, a broken rhythm that demanded him give into his desire. So he did.

Choso bargained with himself that he’d do what he needed to do and rush everything straight to the washer so that you’d have fresh, warm clothes waiting for you by the time you got back. You’d be none the wiser.

Hopefully.

He spit quickly into the palm of his hand, wanting to waste no time and wrapped his hand around his cock to give himself what he craved. He set the pace, rotating his wrist in a way he knew would bring him to the heights he wanted to reach and crushed your panties against his nose once more, groaning low in his chest as the scent of you overtook him.

Something about adding the smell between your legs to this shameful little routine of his made him feel like a complete mess in no time at all. He was filthy for this but he didn’t care. He wanted, no, needed you in any way he could have you.

Your scent pushed him forward in an almost animalistic way, driving the tension in his belly to an almost unbearable level. He never knew he could feel this good by simply smelling you while he did this..

Choso fucked up into his hand aggressively with nothing but you on his mind, his toned abdominals flexing with exertion as he chased his high. He let his head fall back, still holding the fabric of your panties to his nose like a man possessed. His jaw had fallen slack now and a series of desperate, pathetic whimpers fell from his lips as he greedily inhaled you, committing your scent deep into his memory.

Pathetic. He was pathetic.

But so, so close.

A part of him was ready to get this over with, just so he could be in the clear from potentially getting caught so he could wallow in shame in peace but another part of him.. another sick, twisted part of him wanted this moment to never end. He wanted to feel good and he wanted YOU to be what made him feel good— even if this was all he could get.

Choso’s chest heaved and his cock leaked with every bounding pulse of his excitement. The pleasure was building white-hot deep in his belly in a way that was almost overstimulating.. but he couldn’t stop. Not yet.

So close.

In a split second moment of filthy desperation and bid for closeness he’d likely never get, he brought his other hand— and your panties down to wrap around the aching head of his cock. A dark splotch quickly bloomed against the grey fabric from where he practically dripped and he pulled his bottom lip through his teeth imagining himself making a mess of those pretty panties while you wore them. Yes. That’s what he wanted. He imagined your eyes heavy lidded and you staring down at him, whispering the filthiest things to him as he jerked off against your clothed cunt. He envisioned your hands touching him instead of his, the way your delicate little fingers would wrap around him. If only..

The tension continued to mount until it was unbearable and his breath came in ragged gasps. He almost missed the sound of the front door to the apartment opening and the hurried footsteps that stopped in front of the bathroom door.

Almost.

But he was too far gone to stop himself— with one more heave of his chest and jerk of his hips, Choso’s orgasm barreled through him with an intensity unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he was lost. Ruined.

It was euphoric.

His eyes rolled back and his cock filled your panties (and his hand) with an inhuman amount of sticky cum. Just when he’d think it was over, another thick, pearlescent spurt oozed into the ruined fabric of your panties. He bucked into his hand a few more times in a bid to prolong things, carrying himself through the remaining haze completely oblivious for a split second to the wide eyes that now watched from the open door.

You stood there utterly speechless at the sight before you when you’d opened the door. Your throat went dry as you studied the way Choso’s hips bucked out the remainder of his orgasm against his hands, the flex of his biceps and abs, the way his head was tilted back and his face contorted into something utterly sinful. The way your panties were now bathed in the most obscene amount of cum you’d ever laid eyes on— panties you’d been wearing just an hour before.

It was a few seconds that felt as if they’d stretched an entire eternity. A moment that left you feeling as if you were under water, unable to breathe. If Choso had felt that way about you, he’d never made any indication— sure, he was warm toward you, but Choso was that way with everyone he allowed into his inner circle. Ever enigmatic he was, no-nonsense a fair majority of the time in every day life, sprinkled in with that unmistakable softness and warmth in private. He’d always welcomed you into his home and had become someone you confided in. He was easy to talk to.

Choso’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto yours, having finally taken notice of you and his stomach instantly dropped at the sight of you in the doorway. He started to say something, to protest but you shut the door before he could call your name, effectively cutting him off. You stood there for a moment wondering what the fuck you had just hallucinated— it had to have been a hallucination, right?

Right?

You opened the door again to confirm that you had not been hallucinating. He was still there, your come-soaked panties still in hand staring at you like a deer in the headlights.

Of all the things you’d walked in on Choso doing, it had to be this. It wasn’t like you could judge though— in some sick way, you actually kind of understood.

It wasn’t like you weren’t similar or anything, after all. Like you hadn’t hoarded the one T-shirt he’d let you borrow months ago beside your pillow to sniff every night because he just smelled that fucking good. An intoxicating mix of soft earthiness, clean skin and something unmistakably sharp.

Okay, so maybe you really understood. Fuck.

You were interrupted from your brief inner monologue by the sound of Choso’s voice tentatively calling out your name. His cock had softened enough to be partially obscured by your panties, but the copious mess remained and stood out more against the fabric and his fair skin now that his cock wasn’t at attention. In any other circumstance, you’d be impressed with the sheer amount of cum that could come from one man, but all you could think of in the moment was the fact that Choso— your friend had pleasured himself with your panties.

“I’ll wash them. I’m sorry. I— I couldn’t. I just. I—.” He started trying to explain himself but you shook your head in response, effectively shutting him up again.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” You finally managed hoarsely after a few moments of careful consideration, trying with all your might to keep your eyes on his and not the mess between his legs. You opened your mouth to speak again when you were jolted by the sound of the front door abruptly opening and Yuji’s voice calling out your name.

In a split second decision you stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. Choso looked like he was about to short circuit, sitting there wide eyed thinking of where he’d even begin trying to explain this to Yuji..

“Of course..” You hissed under your breath, knowing that there was only one thing to do. You weren’t about to let Choso be found in such a compromising position (and you weren’t about to throw him under the bus either) so you turned to him and put a finger to your lips, a silent request to keep quiet.

“I’m in here! My stomach hurts…” you called out and flicked the bathroom fan on in hopes of muffling any extra noise that may give the two of you away. You back up slightly away from the door and immediately recoil when you step in something wet, your expression screwing up into one of silent panic when you realized what it was.

What a fucking situation to be caught in.

Part 2??

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 4

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

Definetly NSFW, Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, really bad self image, definitely not why one should cement the mating bond, Azriel is kinda an idiot who is so happy that he has found his mate that he doesn't question things

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Warm. Safe.

Ensconced in that little house. The pitter-patter of rain against huge windows. 

For the first time in her life, Cilla felt something akin to peace. 

She slept and slept and slept, roused periodically by Azriel who poured water and Pain relief potions down her throat…who pet her hair and whispered that everything was going to be just alright. 

So did her shadows. 

None of their incessant chatter they sometimes were prone to be doing, which left her exhausted in the end…they seemed quite happy to let themselves be entertained by Azriel’s shadows, sometimes chasing each other through the room if Cilla was awake long enough to watch them. 

But the best part…the best part was when she got to curl herself together with him, when she listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat in her ear, and curled a hand against his chest, feeling it rise and sink with every breath she took, as he held her. Sometimes he covered her with one of his wings, and she loved to burrow herself against Azriel as tight as she could. 

She had never had anybody in her life that had taken care of her before…who tucked blankets around her, so that she wouldn’t get cold, and who made her soup. 

She never had anybody in her life that had taken care of her like that. 

The shadows had tried, as much as they could…but the weaker she had been, the weaker they had been too…and sometimes all they could was to blanket her in their very presence, their voices twining around her. 

She burrowed further into her blanket cocoon and heard a soft laugh as a scarred hand came to cup her cheek and press against her forehead. 

“Your fever broke, Sweetheart,” Azriel said softly, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked her and she blinked open her eyes, to look at him. 

“Tired. Sweaty,” she admitted with a grimace, making him laugh. 

“Your fever broke. You sweat it all out. How about a bath?” Azriel asked her, still cupping her cheek. 

“Isn’t that too much work?” she asked him, grimacing at the thought of boiling water to pour it into a bathtub. She was really not in the mood to do it. 

“You didn’t have running hot water?” Azriel asked her, not sounding surprised and she just shrugged. 

“I needed to fill it with buckets if I wanted a hot bath,” she told him. “and even then, I just managed to knock my wings into everything,” she admitted with a sigh, making him laugh. 

“How about this? No buckets and your wings are going to have all the space they need?” he promised her. “Oh, and the water is going to stay as hot as you want it as long as you want it.”

She stared at him in wonder. 

“Come on,” he promised her, as he scooped her up like she weighed nothing. 

They left the one room she had thought that cabin consisted of, into a hallway with…at least 5 more doors. 

“I haven’t yet come around to actually put anything in any of the other rooms around here,” Azriel said with a sigh. “I did finally get around to mail order a bed, so we can have a proper bedroom soon enough,” he promised her, sounding nearly shy. Cilla had no idea how to tell him, that she was used to one single room being all she knew and that the idea of a kitchen and a bedroom and a living room felt more novel than anything. 

The bathing chamber definitely was a far cry from what she was used to. Marble as far as her eye could see…and a bathtub that could probably also work as a small pool. 

Definitely enough space for her wings.

She watched in amusement as his shadows swarmed through the room, opening the tap to pour steaming hot water into that bathtub, pouring numerous concoctions into said water that turned it bubbly and foamy and sweet smelling, even as Azriel deposited her into it. 

“Will you stay?” she asked him softly, and he rolled up his trouser legs, sitting down on the stairs that lead into said pool. 

Not quite what Cilla had hoped for, but she would take it, as she waded further into it, dunking herself under so that the water could wash off the remnants of the mountain lake. 

“I love it,” she said with a happy sigh, stretching out her wings against the warm water, feeling the warmth soothe her achy muscles. 

“Much better than a mountain lake in the middle of autumn,” Azriel said drily, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. 

“Excuse me, I didn’t want to snap my neck,” Cilla shot back sharply. “I figured jumping off something and staying in the air was easier than lifting off the ground…which I have tried numerous times and failed horribly at.”

“It is,” Azriel agreed. “It was actually quite smart. Though maybe not when we are expecting the first snow in just a few weeks,” he said pointedly. “When you feel better I’ll teach you to fly. Properly,” he promised her. 

She swallowed, turning around. So easy? He was just…He was just going to help her? Just like that? 

“You will?” she asked with a shaky voice and he mustered her, his eyes gentle. 

“I only learned when I was eleven. It gets more difficult the older you are,” he said calmly. “If you were a toddler, it would be instinctual. You aren’t…so you’ll need to get over your own instinctual fear of plummeting to your death.”

Great. Just what she wanted to hear. 

“Though we should probably get your wings checked out before we do that,” Azriel said quietly. “You have scars at the roots. I do not know how that will impact you.” 

She nodded, managing to hold back a shudder when she remembered how it had felt to have these wings bound to her back so tightly that she had been in always present agony. Her grandmother hadn’t wanted to see them…hadn’t wanted a constant reminder of the wings that had killed her daughter. 

Cilla could understand it. But why had she needed to do that when Cilla was locked into the attic either way?

One of the first things her wings had managed once they had become…bodily in a sense, was to loosen these ties until they no longer cut into her skiing and her bones with every single movement and shift she made. 

It had been pure relief. 

Sometimes they had even taken them off completely and let her stretch and shake them out…only replacing them whenever her grandmother deigned to shove a plate with scraps of food through the door. 

She ducked under again, holding her breath, so that her hair was sopping wet, and then started to finger comb it through, grimacing at the knots and gnarls she could feel. 

“Want me to do your hair?” Azriel asked her and she came to sit between his legs, hugging her own to her chest. 

“Don’t cut it all off,” she requested as she felt him start to tease out some of the knots she had in it. 

His hands stilled for a moment. “…why would I do that?” he asked her, sounding incredulous. 

“Because it’s annoying?” Cilla asked in answer, swallowing against a torrent of memories that had involved her hair. She had always known it was unmanageable, with thick coarse curls…she had never been allowed to keep it long when she was young…it had been sheared off repeatedly. But then she had left, and she had just let it grow. And grow. And grow. And grow some more. 

“I am not going to cut it, I promise,” Azriel promised quietly. “Lean back a little,” he requested, pouring something or other over her head…and then started brushing out her hair. 

He was far gentler than Cilla herself had ever been, brushing out the knots and gnarls, until her hair was silky smooth and wet down her back. He gathered it into his hands and knotted it against her scalp, keeping it out of his way. 

“Can you move your wings for me?” he requested and she scooched forwards so that she wasn’t accidentally going to hit him with them as she flared them out and then moved them to the side, showing off as much range of movement as she had. 

“How do they feel?” he asked her. 

“Not any more sore than usual?” she answered with a shrug. “The right one is always stiffer than the left one.”

He reached out and she felt the warmth of his hand hover over her right wing. 

“May I?” he requested. 

“Of course,” she agreed. He was her mate. Of course, he could touch her. 

The touch was whisper soft and she couldn’t help a shiver as he drew his fingertips over her membrane. 

“Illyrians…are…touchy about their wings,” Azriel said, his voice even as he trailed his fingers over her joints, checking for something or other. “If I did this to a female in plain view, we would end tonight in front of a priestess,” he told her. 

She hadn't known that. But then there were seemingly so many things that she didn’t know about the type of faerie that made up half of her. So many things that she had no idea about, about history and customs and anything else. 

“You are my mate. I think if it’s appropriate for anybody to touch them, it would probably be you,” she said quietly. 

He didn’t say anything but finally lifted her hand off her back. She immediately missed his touch. 

“There is a salve you can put on the scar tissue near the roots. It stops it from being itchy,” Azriel said quietly. “You could probably reach it on your own if you wanted to.”

“Can you do it?” she asked, biting her lip. Just his hands on her skin for a moment longer. She just needed…she wasn’t even sure what she needed. The touch of his warm skin on hers? The scent of cedar and mist surrounding her? 

“Of course,” he agreed quietly. One of his shadows fetched a jar, some kind of greenish, sweet-smelling paste that he scooped out of his jar. 

“This is going to feel intense,” he warned her. “It won’t hurt but…tell me, if you need a break.”

She swallowed, but nodded, closing her eyes. 

She had expected pain, even though he had promised her the opposite. What she hadn’t expected was the shot of pure…pure need that shot through her the moment his fingers wrapped around the root of her wings, from where they protruded out of her back. She had…She had not expected that. 

But then one touch against their wings had been enough to put her over that edge before so really, why shouldn’t this…Why shouldn’t this feel like pure heat cradled between her legs, a whimper escaping her, his hand pulling back? “Do you want me to stop?” Azriel asked her, but she managed a shake of her head. 

No. No, she didn’t want him to stop. If he could just continue that, and then…and then cleave her in two just like he had done before, fill her up until she felt stretched and full…that would be…

Another touch against sensitive skin right over bone, over a vein nestled there… a shudder worked its way through her body, her thighs slick with something, nails biting against her fists. 

“Alright?” he checked again and she managed a nod, just as he went to the other wing. 

If anything, the heat only got worse, though he was quick about it. 

“All done,” he said a moment later and she took a deep breath, turning so that she could pull him into a kiss. 

He pulled back after just a moment, his thumb smoothing over her cheek. 

“Let me braid your hair, and we are done,” he told her calmly. 

She didn’t want him to braid her hair. She wanted him to fuck her. 

Still, Cilla turned around, letting him loosen the knot in her hair and divide it into equal pieces, starting at the crown of her head and braiding downwards. 

Her arousal dissipated at his gentle touch, feeling like a kitten that was being petted more than anything, as he gently drew his fingers down her hair. 

“Did you ever wonder who your father is?” he asked her, his voice quiet and she froze. 

“What?” From where in the world was this coming from?

“Did you ever wonder who your father is?” Azriel repeated his voice light. Nearly…too light, for this discussion. 

“No,” she answered honestly. 

“You never wanted to know?” he asked her. “He could still be alive.” he pointed out, his voice reasonable. “He would be the only blood family you still had.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cilla said with a sigh. “Where would I be even supposed to start?” she asked him. She didn’t have a name. She had nothing. She knew that he must have been Illyrian…but that was it. How was she supposed to find a male with that kind of information? 

“It’s not that…the pool of possibilities isn’t that big,” Azriel said quietly. “Velaris was sealed for 50 years. There aren’t that many Illyrian males that were here in that time.”

“I would still need to figure out their names and where they live now,” Cilla pointed out with a shrug. 

“Do you want to know?” Azriel pushed her. “If you want to know…”

Did she want to know him? No. Not…not like that. 

She just wanted to know… 

“I want to know if he knew,” Cilla said quietly 

“Knew?” Azriel asked her, hands hesitating in her hair. 

“I want to know if he knew that he was signing my mother’s death warrant when he slept with her. I want to know if he knew and did it regardless. I want to know if he knew that I existed . I want to know if he knew and never got me out of that attic,” she spat out. “That’s what I want to know. I don’t need to know who he is. I just want to know that.” 

“I’ll get you answers,” Azriel promised her. “If that’s what you want…I’ll get you these answers. 

“How?” she asked him, turning towards him, just as he tied off her braid. How could he possibly…possible find that out? 

“Have some trust in my abilities, Sweetheart,” Azriel said with a small smile. “Now, let’s get you dry.”

She was wrapped into a massive fluffy towel and then her shadows started dancing around her, pulling a nightgown over her head. 

White cotton. Pearl buttons down the front. She never in her life had worn anything that was as…fine as this. 

Where did you get this from? She demanded. Please tell me you didn’t steal it.

We bought it! They told her brightly. 

With what money?

His shadows taught us how to play the lottery!

“Are you alright?” Azriel asked as she still stood frozen in place in the middle of the bathing chamber.  

“Your shadows taught mine how to play the lottery,” she said weakly. “Apparently they made enough money to buy a nightgown.”

Azriel chuckled. “I told them too,” he explained to her. “Seemed like they have been successful.”

“Why?” she asked as he draped an arm around her and gently led her back into the kitchen, draping a blanket around her and she sat down on the kitchen table, watching as the shadows put a bowl of porridge in front of her, drizzled with honey.  

“Because I don’t want you to feel like you need to stay with me for money,” Azriel answered honestly, as he sat across from her, offering her his hand over the table. She took it. “You’ll have your own line of credit. If you want to disappear, you can,” he said that so easily. 

Like giving her that freedom…like that was nothing. 

Even when it was everything.  

“I…I don’t want you to disappear.” 

“You don’t need to. You never need to. But you can. If you want to, you can.”

[tcustodisart]

Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger

So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).

One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.

He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.

His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.

At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.

Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).

Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):

His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.

In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).

Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.

He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.

His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).

His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.

Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.

Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.

He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.

He loves picking up herbs and making potions.

Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.

He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.

At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.

He enjoys fishing.

Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.

He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).

He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.

He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.

He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.

He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.

In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.

[rowretro]

Yandere Sunghoon ex plss

✧warnings: yandere/toxic themes, violence, death, forceful kissing, blood

 ♡synopsis: Park Sunghoon is y/n’s ex boyfriend. People assumed that you were at fault given how seemingly perfect he is, he’s good at everything he does, and he’s extremely handsome who wouldn’t fall for Sunghoon. It was a shame really, you loved him and he loves you too… maybe a little too much…

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

1 year of dating and y/n broke it off just like that. It’s only been a week and people have already spread all kinds of rumors as to what could’ve happened. Perhaps Sunghoon realized Y/n wasn’t all that some’d say, maybe y/n herself cheated on him. Whatever the rumor was, it was always putting you in a bad light. If only they knew why you broke up with him, if only they knew Sunghoon for who he truly was.

Not even the law itself cared for Sunghoon’s crimes.Y/n had walked into him hiding one of his crimes very well. Taehyun, who had asked her out quite recently, not even bothered by the fact you were dating Sunghoon at the time, was lying there cold and bloody. Sunghoon, dragging his body into the deep ditch. “This is nothing babe… he had no life anyway, no siblings, neglecting parents, and he was in a street gang…” he simply said as he dumped the somewhat damp soil on the man’s body, the ditch gradually filling up. 

Not even the police cared to take the case, why would they when the Park Sunghoon is the culprit. So she broke up with him. After a tense argument with him Sunghoon left the building to cool off, that’s when she decided it was best to leave. Most of her stuff was already at her old apartment, she simply breached his security system and left leaving a note saying that she’s breaking up with him.

Only been a week since then, just y/n and her thoughts alone in the cozy little apartment. She felt a little fear, wondering if he might kill her, or kidnap her, or do one of the most dark, sinister things she could never be able to think of. A little heartbroken because she loved him and he’s all she could ever ask for. She just wanted to move on though it was easier said than done. Heaving a sigh, y/n made her way to the kitchen, pouring some hot water into a pan, and boiling some ready-made tapioca pearls. 

The girl cleaned up the house a little before adding a little sugar to her now- ready tapioca pearls, using a spoon to dig right into it. As she took a bite out of her little sweet snack, she heard the doorbell suddenly ring, making her flinch. She wasn’t expecting any visitors… Sunghoon on the other hand, was still looking for her while remaining under the radar. Then it hit him, he had the perfect item to bring her back…She was hesitant, her hand on the door handle, a frying pan in the other, she peeked through the small gap as she opened the door. She opened it widely, a smile painting her face when her eyes laid upon the male at her door. “Jay!” she exclaimed as he smiled, hugging her.

“Y/n~ long time no see huh, what brings you back home?” he enquired as Y/n sighed. “I broke up with my boyfriend so I moved back home” she said as Jay nodded.The two conversed for over an hour before leaving the building in his car, the two driving to one of her favorite restaurants. “Jay- isn’t that the road?...” Y/n asked as Jay glanced at her in the mirror “Yeah, but I’m taking you to a different one, it’s way better” Jay reassured as she nodded, trusting his word. Then everything felt familiar… the road, the signs, the tattered billboard sign and that god forsaken house…

“Nice work Park Jongseong…” Sunghoon smirked his dark eyes now on you. How could he fucking betray her?! Park Jongseong? The Jay, your best friend for 5 years lead you back to her boyfriend’s hell. “Anything for you bro… also don’t forget mom’s birthday party” he simply said as he left the building. Of course. How did she miss it? They’re brothers. “Back home?... what is this about some break up sweetheart?... who talked you into it?...” Sunghoon asked as y/n just glared up at him.

“I fucking hate you.” she seethed through gritted teeth as he slapped her “No no silly… you don’t hate me… you love me. You love me like crazy but you just don’t know it yet” he explained in a sickeningly sweet tone that made her stomach feel like it was being squished in the claws of a demon. Sunghoon’s fingers softly threaded through her hair, his finger twirling a few strands of her dark hair.

 “There’s something you need to learn sweetheart… you’re mine. That fucking means you’re stuck with me forever. We WILL date. We WILL get married and we WILL die together. So no we haven’t broken up we never will you FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!!!” he asked, yanking her hair painfully harshly all of a sudden. “Y-yes… I do…” she trailed off, hating every word that left her word. Hearing her words, the male planted his lips on her, forcing his tongue into her mouth, a hand still gripping at her hair as another snaked around her waist. She was stuck with him forever.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting

Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.

There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.

Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.

The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.

If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.

The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.

Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.

With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.

Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.

Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.

A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.

She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.

My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…

A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.

A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…

There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.

Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.

When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.

“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”

She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.

All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.

Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.

Now he was returning home – in haste.

He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.

But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.

She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.

It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.

For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…

That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.

She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.

So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.

Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.

Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.

That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.

Aemond was here.

Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.

Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.

“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.

Her smile did not last.

Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.

A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.

Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.

She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.

He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”

She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.

Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”

Still, she did not move.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.

He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”

Ever since, he’d been calling her little.

First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.

Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.

Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.

“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.

For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.

Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion�� to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.

Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.

Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.

Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.

It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.  

She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.

Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.

Always little.

Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.

Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.

Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.

She hated him.

She loved him.

She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.

She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.

Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She gave no answer.

He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”

“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”

His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.

“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”

Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?

“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.

His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”

She shook her head. “The war is not over.”

“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”

“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”

She wanted him to be the one to say it.

Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”

She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.

But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.

He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.

It broke something within her.

She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.

But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”

Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.

Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.

But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.

“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.

His child.

Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?

Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.

He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.

“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”

“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.

She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.

“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”

With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”

When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.

The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”

She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her.  “Will you tell me who else?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.

With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.

She was so tired.

She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.

After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.

“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”

She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.

“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”

He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.

Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.

Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.

It did not fit as well as it used to.

If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”

The world fell silent, and so did she.

If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.

She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.  

Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.

All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”

She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”

Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”

She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…

“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”

Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”

It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.

And yet…

“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’

“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”

His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.

“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”

He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.

But it had been half a year for her, too.

Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.

She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.

Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.

“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”

She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”

His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…

He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.

It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.

“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.

Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…

Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.

This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.

He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.

“Did you hold Alys like this?”

Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”

Silence, then…

“Yes, I did.”

She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.

“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.

Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”

“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”

He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.

Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.

“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.

Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”

“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.

She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.

Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.

That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”

Then he closed the door, and was gone.

But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.

Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.

-

[innerfare]

Cold as Ice - Ace

Summary: Ace realizes he's in love with you; a short drabble

Genre: A little fluffy, a little angsty

CW: None // SFW

Word Count: 492

———

Ace burned as hot as the sun. He had an inferno raging inside him that he could unleash on his enemies with a wave of his hand. He could blaze a path through the world, and if someone tried to burn him, he could walk right through the fire they set. 

His opponents squinted at the sight of him, as if he burned too brightly to look at, and he was personally responsible for more sunken Navy vessels in the New World than any other pirate aboard Whitebeard’s crew. The WE Newspaper had even written articles on the costs Navy had incurred from he alone. Everyone feared the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.

But you were different. 

The mere sight of you made Ace feel like he was encased in ice. 

When you smiled at him, when you laughed at something a crew member said and the sound drifted across the deck of the Moby Dick- and even worse, when you laughed at one of his jokes, when you walked past him and he caught a whiff of your floral shampoo, when your soft hand brushed his calloused one, you made him freeze. 

You made him shiver when you said his name. You made him want to drink a gallon of boiling water to thaw his insides when you shared your food with him. You made his blood run cold in his veins, slowing to a creep like a river congested with ice. 

At its core, that chill was fear. Ace was terrified, and he felt it in his soul. 

When he looked at you, all he could think about was the brother he’d lost and the oath he’d sworn to himself never to lose one of his loved ones ever again, never to fail again. He could handle Luffy taking dumb risks because Ace had overseen Luffy’s training himself. Ace knew Luffy could fight. 

But what about you? 

Could you handle yourself when he wasn’t around? 

He’d seen you do it, and yet, he worried about you in a way he had never worried about Luffy, likely because he loved you in a way he didn’t love Luffy. He didn’t love you like a kid brother, he loved you like a woman. 

The realization he was in love with you came down on him like a giant icicle that broke off the eve of a roof and impaled him. 

He wanted to wrap you in his arms but was scared he would squeeze you too tight and break you. He wanted to warm you up on chilly winter nights but was paranoid he might lose control and burn you. He wanted to take you along on every adventure he set off on but was terrified something would happen to you and it would all be his fault. 

He loved you so much it burned, but it burned cold.

You alone had the power to make Fire Fist Ace shiver. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[yxtubers]

𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: an innocent kiss in the kitchen which makes your heart race

warnings/notes: kissing, that’s about it

requested?: yes! number 1 “hugging and A absentmindedly kissing B’s neck” from my actions prompt list

> > >

Matt was over at your place today. He claimed he needed a break from Nick and Chris.

“I want to spend time with just you,” he had said.

He loved his brothers, but he also loved having you to himself occasionally. So now he stood in between your legs as you were perched on top of your kitchen counter, a movie mindlessly playing on your TV in the background.

He was watching you make yourself a cup of tea, eyes drifting to look at you as you waited for the water to boil.

Matt always thought you looked beautiful when you were in your comfy clothes. Something about seeing you engulfed in his sweater and a loose pair of sweats set his heart ablaze.

He fiddled with the neck of your - or his - jumper, adjusting it slightly as it was tucked inside of itself. Setting his hand down onto the counter to rest at your sides, he kissed the space on your neck absentmindedly.

Your breathing hitched slightly at the act. Somehow he still found ways to make you giddy and flustered, even after all this time.

“What?” he asked, amused by the heat rising to your cheeks.

You shook your head, giggling. “Nothing.”

“You liked that?” he teased. He just wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Shut up!” you said as you lightly shoved his shoulder before covering your face up with your hands.

Sometimes you hated how much he could make you blush with the smallest of actions. You also loved it. No one could make you feel the way he did, and he knew it.

“Oh come on, I think it’s cute that you’re getting all embarrassed,” he said as he took your hands away to look at your face.

“Don’t hide that pretty face,” he added as he intertwined your fingers together.

He was killing you right now.

“Maattt,” you whined, looking away.

He laughed at your flushed state, noticing how you were looking down at the counter instead of at him.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”

You hesitantly looked back at him, only to be met by him staring at you with the most adorable eyes. You couldn’t stay mad at that face. The adoring look that he had in his eyes would’ve made your knees buckle had you not been sitting down.

Matt’s hands moved up to your waist and encircled behind your back, moving you closer to him.

“How about an apology kiss?” he asked rhetorically.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes with your fingertips, you leaned forward to meet his lips.

His arms hugged you impossibly closer, your chests meeting in the middle. He always found a way to get you near him. You were just so intoxicating to him.

Hands burying into his hair, you deepened the kiss. He gently sighed into your mouth, molding his lips perfectly against yours. Suddenly you realized that you could die happy like this.

The boiling water was almost forgotten as you pulled away, Matt’s eyes still closed as you checked your tea cup.

“I need to finish my tea,” you stated, catching your breath.

He wasn’t having any of it, though. His lips chased yours once again, holding your cheek in one of his hands as he rubbed his thumb over it.

“The tea can wait,” he mumbled against your now warm lips.

“Mhm and you can’t?” you laughed back.

He looked you in the eyes, shaking his head with a dopey smile on his face. If there was anything Matt was good at, it was convincing you to forget about anything else you were doing in the moment.

Giving one last peck to his lips, you continued making your tea. His hands were now on your thighs, rubbing small circles into the fabric as he watched you.

Leaning his forehead on your shoulder, he waited for you to finish making your drink.

“Can I get a reward kiss for being so patient?”

You laughed yet again. He tended to be clingy, but today he was exceptionally affectionate.

“Matt, that was less than 2 minutes.”

“2 minutes too long,” he said as he watched you pick your tea up and jump off the countertop.

Taking your hand in his, he lead you to the couch to finish the half-forgotten movie.

- - -

@lollibumblebee

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@20nugs

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[s0urw00lf]

Hello ! Anonymous who asked for the Neteyam x reader.

They dont have to necessarily be ennemies, but maybe more like two people whom has so much in common, eldest of two great clan leaders, with all the pressures that comes with it and to watch over their siblings, take the blame, but for the love of Ewya despite this they can’t see eye to eye.

I hope it helps you ! You can diverge a bit from the scenario if you want

One and the same

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: you and Neteyam are basically the same person, but for the lives of you can’t get along

Warning: none I don’t think

An: thank you SO much for clarifying that made writing this so much easier. I wasn’t sure if you were going to see it but I’m happy you did. Also I’m so sorry I didn’t see this in my inbox until last night and I wrote this on a time crunch so it is a teeny bit rushed. But I hope you enjoy!!

You watched the sully kids from afar as your siblings taught them how to control their breath. You noticed the eldest was having the most trouble, and you felt for him truly. You saw yourself in him, as if you were looking at your reflection in the water. You approached them, “may i help with anything?” You asked Tsereya. She nodded, gesturing to the oldest sully sibling “he needs a little more help” you frowned nodding, noting the frown on his face matching yours. Neteyam is very adept, so you couldn’t imagine how infuriating it was for him to not be able to grasp a task. “Follow me please” Neteyam got up following you as you led him to a more secluded place on the rocks, a place you come often to find peace. You sat crossing your legs and he followed.

the one thing you hated about him was that he was very stubborn, as were you. “Neteyam please i am trying to help you” you pleaded irritated. he sighed “i goi it i just need time” he shook his head. Rolling your eyes, “you wont be able to control your breaths if your heart is fast”. “It will slow just give me a second” he said. You turned your head toward Tsereya and the rest of the sully’s. Tsereya was already watching you she had a hand covering her mouth laughing, Lo’ak stood beside her with a small smile. ‘He’s being stubborn’ you signed to her.

She tilted her head with a smile ‘you are just as, sister’ she signed back. You huffed angrily, as much as you hated it she was right. ‘Eywa please grant me the patience’ you thought. “If you will not let me help you i will go help someone who will” you said standing up, before you could take a step he grabbed your arm, “no i- i just- I’m calm now” he stuttered. You nodded sitting back down in your previous position. You placed your hand on his chest and felt the light ‘thump’‘thump’‘thump’, his heart rate was significantly lower, not as low as it should be but you could work with it. “Better?” He asked sounding sarcastic but you couldn’t tell if it was that or if he’s just nervous. The session carried on extremely slow for the both of you, for some reason being in each other’s presence just ticked you both off.

You’d easily avoided Neteyam around the village even though at some points you were sure he was everywhere just trying to get on your nerves. But somehow you had ended up with him and his brother, your siblings and, roxto way past the reef. So when you got back you’d all been scolded by your parents, and you watched with anger in your eyes at Neteyam taking the fall for his brother. “What the hell did we talk about huh? What happened to behaving?” You overheard Jake scolding his sons “it is my fault sir” Neteyam said, causing your blood to boil. You hated that he did that, taking the fall for his sibling, you hated it. You hated it even more because it’s exactly what you did, you stood taking your parents scolding head on, ears pinned back tail pin straight. You must of all hated how he watched from afar at you taking the scolding, he scoffed shaking his head, braids following with the sway of his head and walked away.

Later that day you found yourself walking down the beach, you hated how much you could see yourself in him. Because if you were an outsider looking in you’d think how stupid it is being the eldest of the great clan leader. How you’d tell yourself to just stop and do what you wanted to, but you couldn’t and neither could he.

The clans annual celebration rolled around very soon, and excitement was in the air. You wore a one piece (almost like a dress) made out of crystals, shells and pearls, the back was out, to show your tattoo’s. You sat with your parents watching your people dance around with gleeful smiles on their faces.

You sat imbetween your parents, ounung and Tsireya with whoever that came to the celebration with. Your mom nudged your arm “you should go dance” she said in a soft voice, your mother wasn’t usually so relaxed but during any celebration she knew that it was a time for fun. You almost let out a laugh at the suggestion “with who mother? No one will want to dance with the Olo’eyktan’s scary eldest daughter” you stated rolling your eyes. Your father let out a booming laugh, catching the attention of you and people of the clan. “I wouldn’t speak so soon daughter” he said with a smile looking ahead, you follow his line of sight only to see the oldest of Jake and Neytiri walking towards you, only then did you notice how quiet the clan got. They knew no one had the guts to approach you, let alone the guy you had yet to get along with long enough for a decent conversation. He greeted your parents with an ‘I see you’ and vice versa, then hit turned to you “y/n” he said. “Neteyam?”

“I would like to ask for your hand in a dance” he said holding out his hand. You tilted your head amused, he was the very first guy to ever try and ask for a dance, let alone in front of your parents. “I accept” you said, much to the surprise of everyone. Except for your parents and Tsireya, you heard her ‘finally’ from across the beach. You placed your hand in his and he led you toward the crowd of dancing na’vi. He then let out a breath, “i am not sure how to dance like your people” he admitted. You laughed “it’s okay forest boy, just follow my lead” you said.

BONUS: your parents pov: “they were so obvious” laughed Tonowari , Ronal smiled “very much so, but they are good for each other. They will be good leaders.” Ronal said.

Jake and neytiri POV: “cant believe he finally did it” Jake said astonished, “he did it the right way” neytiri said proudly.

The siblings: “finally” kiri groaned watching her brother lead you toward the crowd. “They were so obvious Tsireya giggled. “You owe me sully” ao’nung said grinning as he held his hand out, “you couldn’t have waited another week?” lo’ak groaned handing Ao’nung the knife he’d betted.

[prettyfastcars]

thunderstorms | Lewis x Reader

Summary: Your mom and his dad have been in a serious relationship for a little while, but you do everything to avoid interacting with Lewis. He’s everything you’ll never be. How could you compete with that amount of fame, glory, power and multiple world championships. So you kept your distance in order to avoid hearing your mom praise him endlessly, but that was until a mandatory family vacation. Living in the same house, under the same roof, you couldn’t avoid him anymore. Neither could either of you avoid the tension in between you. 

Themes: smut, stepbrother!lewis, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), forbidden/taboo romance

The thunder sounded like it shook the entire cabin. 

You froze on the wooden stairs, holding on to the handrail for dear life. You liked to think that you were a brave human. But thunderstorms scared the hell out of you. Especially right now given you and your ‘family’ were in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. 

You could’ve been on a nice beach, soaking the warmth of the sun, swimming in the ocean, drinking all day, going on boat rides. But no, the golden son – your soon to be step brother – decided to take the family to a cabin, in the mountains where it is cold, humid and dark all the time. Where it rains incessantly. 

He wanted to hike. And naturally his dad and your mom agreed. And naturally your opinion didn’t matter. Sometimes you thought, all of you didn’t matter whenever he was concerned. After all, you were nowhere near as accomplished as he was. 

He had it all. He was loved by millions, admired, worshipped. People loved him, everyone wanted to be his friend, everyone wanted to be seen with him. 

All you had was a boutique in Paris, that too it was gifted to you by one of your mom’s many ex husbands. It was your entire life now. But no matter how luxurious, elegant, sleek and modern a Parisian boutique is, it cannot compare to multiple motorsport world championships. 

Hence, your suggestion of going on vacation somewhere warm was immediately ignored. As expected. And here you were now, still holding on to the handrail.

You finally let go of it, and wrapped your blanket tighter around you. You were on your way downstairs in search of something warm to drink. This whole cabin was freezing despite the multiple heaters. 

“Damn him,” You whispered under your breath as you walked into the open kitchen, turning just one light on and leaving the rest of the kitchen in darkness. “Could be on a beach partying right now,” You muttered bitterly like an old woman as you gathered your things to make your hot chocolate. “But no,” You hissed as you put the kettle on. “His Majesty wanted to be in this damn forest,” You grabbed your mug and put your cocoa powder in, “We could be killed in here,” You kept muttering as you waited for the water to boil. “God knows what’s in these woods, wild life, serial killers,” You scoffed. “As if he doesn’t get enough adrenaline–,” 

A smooth voice spoke up from one of the dark corners of the kitchen, “Still cursing my name I see?” 

You gasped, turning around to face the dark corner immediately. There he was, the light from his phone allowing you to look at his ridiculously handsome face, and his ridiculously handsome smirk. His braids were out of his usual ponytail. It angered you almost that he looked even better this way. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but ended up squealing instead as the loudest thunder ever shook the entire cabin once again. 

You crouched in place, holding onto the kitchen counter. Meanwhile Lewis broke into chuckles, laughing at you right in your face. 

“You are seriously scared of thunderstorms?” He laughed some more. 

You frowned at him, your bravery coming out of hiding now the thunder had passed. “Oh shut up. Of all places you had to bring us here?” You shook your head and turned around to carry on making your hot chocolate. 

You heard the chair screech as Lewis stood up from the small table, you heard him walk over to where you stood. Your body became hyper aware of each one of his moves. 

The way he placed both of his hands on the counter, on either side of you, caging you in. 

The way his torso pressed gently against your back. 

The way he subtly nuzzled your neck from behind. 

You froze. Lewis’ lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Is that why you’re down here so late at night? Hmm?” He teased, “You needed your big brother to keep you safe from the thunderstorm?” 

“You’re not my fucking brother.” You gasped in surprise when you felt him purposely drag his lips up your neck. “Lewis…” You whispered, “What are you doing?” Your voice ended up sounding a lot more like a quiet moan. 

You’d be lying if you said this was the first time the two of you were crossing lines which you knew you shouldn’t. The man was drop dead gorgeous, it was hard to resist him. 

“What?” He acted oblivious even as he left soft, open mouth kisses all over your neck and slightly exposed shoulder. “I’m just helping you make hot chocolate before the water gets cold.” He said as one of his tattooed hands wrapped around your waist while the other grabbed the kettle and poured hot water into your mug. 

The warm drink was the last thing on your mind as Lewis kept kissing up and down your neck. “Lewis…” You murmured again, “We shouldn’t.” 

He didn’t stop. You didn’t want him to stop. He knew that. 

He let go of you momentarily and gave you enough space to turn around and face him. Fuck, that was a mistake. In the dim, partially lit kitchen he looked too tempting. Big brown eyes, how could you resist those? 

The blanket you had around yourself fell to the ground. Now you were left in tiny shorts and an almost see-through pj top. Lewis’ eyes roamed your body shamelessly. Your face burned when you admitted to yourself that you liked it. 

“Look at you,” He murmured, as he placed his hand on your waist again. His other hand came up to grab your chin. He leaned in slightly, his scent acting like an aphrodisiac. “What am I supposed to do when you’re walking around half naked, little sis?” He accused in that dreamy voice. “Am I supposed to keep my hands to myself while you walk around looking like this?” 

You couldn’t look away from his rich, dark brown eyes. Bottomless, warm, inviting. His eyes had an intensity that was hard to ignore. 

You were aware of how his thumb drew lazy circles on your hip. You felt weak in your knees. Lewis just smirked. “You better stop looking at me with those fuck-me eyes if you don’t want me to bend you over this counter right here right now.” He whispered, leaning in even closer to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

You were dragged back to reality once you broke eye contact. So you cleared your throat and pulled away from his embrace. The air felt immediately colder as you pulled away from him. 

Lewis picked up your blanket and wrapped it around you again. You muttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you clutched the blanket under your chin, securely as if it would keep you safe from him. Then he handed you your mug and said, “Wanna watch a movie?” 

You should’ve just gone to bed. You should’ve said no. 

Seeing you were contemplating, Lewis added, “Unless of course you want to go upstairs and be all by yourself.” 

Right then, another loud thunder echoed throughout the entire place. And your decision was made. 

So you found yourself in the living area, on the same couch as Lewis while some horror movie played on TV. And with each loud boom from the sky, you scooted closer and closer to him. He chuckled each time you jumped due to the thunder, but he made no further comments. 

After a while, and some more scooting he said, “Just come here, will you?” He patted the spot next to him and opened his arms. 

Maybe it was the thunder. Or the fact that he looked so nice, warm and comfy in his sweatpants and sweater. Or maybe it was that you were subconsciously dying to be in his arms. Whatever the case, you slid right up to him and let him wrap his arms around you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“There, see,” He said, “Isn’t it nice to let big brother take care of you?” He teased. 

You scoffed, but remained in his arms. “You’re not my brother. I hate you and your big ass forehead.” 

Lewis laughed. You smiled too, but hid it quickly. 

“Can I have some of your hot chocolate?” He asked after a few silent seconds. 

“I drank it all.” You said. 

“Shame,” He murmured, “I really wanted a taste of it.” He sounded almost seductive as he said it. 

There. 

You could feel the shift in the air just then. That line, you were gonna cross it again. 

You pulled away and looked right into his soft brown eyes. “Lewis…” You whispered. 

“Come here, baby,” He whispered, cupping your face and leaning in for a kiss. 

You melted instantly, kissing his warm and soft lips back immediately. You didn’t even hesitate before making your way to his lap, straddling him without breaking the kiss. You felt him smirk into the kiss, you did too. 

Too late to turn back now, that’s what the smirks meant. 

You only pulled away to take a breath, looking into his eyes to find him just as breathless as you. Neither one of you said anything. Not even when you whimpered as you felt his erection through the layers of clothing separating your bodies. 

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered. His hands touching you wherever he could. Sliding across your now exposed thighs, up and down your sides and fingers caressing your skin, dangerously close to where you ached for him. 

You didn’t say anything, but Lewis looked down and found your eager fingers toying with the waistband of his sweatpants. He smirked when he saw that, and looked up at you with a cocky look in his eyes. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked, sounding just as cocky as he looked. 

You nodded, heart racing at the thought of what you were about to do. But it was too late to turn back now. You held his heated stare as you lowered his sweatpants and wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his cock, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. 

You leaned in close to him again, “I want you,” you whispered against his lips and then pressed your mouth to his. He kissed you back immediately. “I want you inside of me.” You said, urgently and breathlessly. 

You slipped your tongue past his lips and slowly stroked the top of his mouth. He groaned into your mouth, and you immediately bucked your hips against his, your clothed core rubbing against his cock and he grunted. 

His hands rubbed up and down your sides, fingers sliding under your thin top until he could toy with your nipples. 

“Take me,” He whispered against your mouth. 

You pulled away from the kiss briefly, quickly removing your shorts before you lowered yourself down on his cock, earning quiet moans and groans out of both of you as you sank down on him. 

Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside. Your face felt hot at the thought of him being too big to fit inside your wet cunt. Lewis felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his gorgeous face. 

His voice was cocky and laced with lust as he spoke, “I bet you’re regretting wasting all that time on your little French boys now, huh?” 

You scoffed, deciding to mess with him. “Oh, trust me. They’re not little.” 

His brain short circuited. For a moment he loathed every man who ever touched you like this. 

Lewis glared at you for a moment, before he grabbed you by the hips thrust up into you. You gasped in surprise as you felt him fill you up. He was nice and snug inside you as he whispered, his voice filled with promises, “I’m gonna ruin every single man for you.” 

Your lust-drunk brain was barely able to process his words. All you knew was that you wanted more. His cock throbbed against your pulsating walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you both insane. It felt like he was splitting you in half.

“Ah,” You whimpered, “Lewis, please…” 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you up and then back down on his cock. You whimpered as he groaned when the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. 

“Does big brother’s cock feel good? Huh?” He taunted before leaning forward to wrap his lips around one of your clothed nipples. He gave it a hard enough suck to make you moan, then moved on to the other one. 

Fuck. This was so wrong. 

The forbidden nature of it gave you a warm rush. You just whimpered and nodded as you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. 

You felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. 

When he noticed that you were comfortable with the pace, he let go of your hip and wrapped his hand around your throat instead. “You look so good like this, little sis.” He teased. “Taking my cock like you’re made for it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his plump, soft bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time. Lewis pulled your warm body closer to his as you bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his dark eyes. 

Lewis rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and moaning. 

“Shh,” You whispered as you kissed along his bearded cheek, barely able to keep from moaning yourself. 

He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You feel so good,” He whispered.

“Damn you…” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. 

You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath. 

Lewis came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him. “Fuck…” He swore before saying, “I think I like thunderstorms even more now.”

You still sounded breathless as you said, "I still hate you."

---

here's part two if you want

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Sunkissed

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The inner circle goes on holiday and Azzie is just allllll over his girl <3

Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you so much for all the love on my last story!

Image Credit: Pinterest

“It’s my pleasure,” Helion smirked, addressing the crowd with his words yet focusing his eyes on her. His brown skin reflected golden in the sun, the white cloth of his draped garment seeming to glow with it.

“Ever the generous host you are, Helion,” She played along for fun, the nature– and limits– of their flirty yet friendly relationship barely a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare displease you,” Helion purred. “You shouldn’t want for anything here. Just say the words, darling, and I’ll personally take care of it.”

Azriel was not the jealous type. He knew the effect he had on her, even all this time, and knew even better the effect she still had on him. It was like no time had passed since they’d been newly mated. His skin flushed as he recalled that initial period, how love-drunk he’d been, truly sated for the first time in his life by her burning affection, having his fill of her taste, and touch, and beautiful mind yet never getting enough of it at the same time.

He was a fool when it came to her, his brothers knew it, she knew it, and Azriel himself would not deny it either.

Yet his skin tightened over his bones and his shirt collar constricted the base of his thick neck ever so slightly as he walked behind her, watching Helion’s eyes trace her form, catching at her collarbones. The thought of him, another male, trying to provide for her, meet her every need, giving her anything… Azriel’s blood boiled. That was his place. He watched as his mate laughed dismissively, unobservant of Helion’s intense gaze.

She was beautiful, charming, and witty. No one could deny it. Rhys did not make her his foreign advisor for no reason. Azriel was quite used to people staring and trying to win her affections, but usually it never bothered him. Because at the end of the day, it was his ears that heard her thoughts and secrets, his eyes that watched her take on the world with grace and strength, and it was his bed they shared every night. He felt secure in their bond and she only had eyes for him, despite the entire world trying to court her at any given moment.

Mor and Feyre shared an amused, knowing glance at each other, studying the three as Rhys took over the conversation.

Helion led the group to his private lake just behind his palace. He was gracious in allowing the Inner Circle to have their summer holiday at his place in the Day Court, granting them access to his entire estate and anything on it for as long as they wished. “There are no such things as debts or favors when it comes to friends,” he said when he offered the location to Rhys in the first place.

The lake was downright gorgeous. Velaris was beautiful, but the Sidra could not compare to the Day Court’s waters even on its best day, a truth Azriel had kept to himself and Cassian had no problem voicing to Rhys. Its turquoise waters stretched for miles and miles, the sandy floor, algae, and tiny native fish visible through the watery looking glass. The palace sat behind them, watching protectively over its best-kept secret, and a vast expanse of green mountains rose on either side, their jagged edges softened by the lush native trees and vegetation. They curved around the lake the same way the gold of a crown hugs its jewel, enclosing it tightly in its earthy palm. Flowers trailed from the balcony down to the beach, the mud and sand padding the rock where the water met the earth. Blankets and a large wicker picnic basket lay ready on the beach.

Mor grabbed her and Feyre in her either of hands and dragged them down to the beach in a giddy, childish run. Azriel’s guiding, protective hand that had been poised at the small of her back suddenly felt cold at the fingertips as she was whisked away, her warm skin no longer close enough to soothe his skin like a balm.

He watched as she shed her clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the blankets. She laughed as Mor threw her dress over the picnic basket and picked out the gold pins in her hair, one by one, letting them land where they wanted to.

Azriel’s cheeks burned and his heart hammered with desire as he watched her shimmy out of her clothing, exposing her soft skin to the touch of the sun. The two-piece swimming slip adorned her curves so perfectly, like the garment was in love with its wearer. He’d picked it out for her. Her hair caught the breeze like something out of a novel and he swore he could smell her soap on the breeze even from all the way over where he was. Everytime he looked at her he felt like he was taking her in for the first time all over again. Part of him almost wanted to turn away with how difficult he suddenly found it to breathe, but he reminded himself with giddy disbelief, she’s mine.

“Easy,” Cassian muttered with a smirk, scenting him.

Azriel cleared his throat and Rhys sent him a boyish smile while continuing his conversation with Helion. Nesta and Amren joined the girls getting ready to get into the water while Elain and Varian settled on the blankets, books in each of their laps.

Mor was the first in the water, squealing at the sensation of it, cold at first, but warming to a luxurious temperature almost immediately. She laced her fingers with Feyre’s and they immediately followed Mor, throwing their heads back and laughing.

She savored the feel of the water against her skin, letting herself melt into its grasp and flow, letting it spread her hair behind her back and thread its liquid fingers through her strands. She submerged herself, gliding through the water until she was further out than anyone else. She’d waited for this holiday even before she knew they were going. She adored swimming, but there weren’t too many spots to do so in Velaris. In the water like this, enveloped in the lapping, balmy embrace of its ripples, she was at peace. Squealing, she beckoned the rest of the girls towards her, waving to Azriel from where he stood smiling like an idiot at her on the beach. He was shirtless now, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Azriel thought the sun complemented her skin, but in her eyes, it downright worshiped his. A glow even brighter than Helion’s overly-dramatic gold crown beamed from every inch of his body, tan and beautiful, broad and strong. She needed him in the water now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a splash of water to her face. She gasped and laughed at the unexpected sensation, Mor and Feyre giggling like schoolgirls at their mischief.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel settled back into the blankets, supporting themselves with elbows that dug divots in the sand.

“Did you ever imagine this life for us?” Cassian asked his brothers as each of them watched their mates in the water.

They rarely got a holiday, and it was even more rare that they allowed themselves to take one if they had the time. Of course, it was Rhys that encouraged this outing in the first place. When Azriel and Amren refused, he required it, as their High Lord, to take the holiday with everyone else.

That wasn’t what convinced Azriel, though. It was his mate's excited chatter about the prospect of the holiday at Helion’s lake with all of their friends, getting to spend time with each other outside of Velaris, visiting another court without the prospect of war hovering over them, being able to swim for the first time in so long. She could hardly wait to feel the water on her skin, to feel the sun on her face, and to spend time with Azriel, experience a new place together. He couldn’t say no as he sat back on their bed and watched her try on her new swimming slips for him, as she packed their bags so early in advance because she could hardly wait.

No, Azriel would not take this vacation because of Rhys’ orders as High Lord of the Night Court, but because it made his soulmate so unbelievably happy. That was all the reason he needed.

Azriel shook his head. “I never would have expected it to be this good. Every day feels like I’m waking up in a dream when she’s next to me.”

His brothers could not even ridicule him for his uncharacteristic sappiness. None of them expected to have mates, let alone be so loved by them, when they were just three boys in a war camp deep in the Illyrian mountains. They did not dare to imagine anything about their future for fear of never seeing it. An rough-and-ready lordling and two bastards. What odds.

Life wasn’t always perfect– there would always be Hybern and their human sympathizers, and probably a hundred other things, to worry about. But with their loves in their lives and talks of starting families, they supposed it was as close to perfect as the Cauldron would allow.

The women spent some time in the water, swimming, splashing, lounging, and talking with their mates watching them as they talked amongst themselves. When they decided to get out to eat, Feyre challenged them all to a race.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Feyre raised her brows at Azriel’s mate, her closest friend out of them all, with mischief in her eyes. “Just because you’ve bested me in two other races doesn’t mean you’ll have this one too.”

“I think it does,” she smirked devilishly.

Feyre broke into a swim for the shore to the dismay of the other women. Amidst shouts of protest at Feyre’s unfair start, everyone else began their dash to the shore.

She sliced through the water like a knife through butter, already ahead of Mor, Nesta, and Amren, the latter of which refused to participate. Surpassing Feyre like a born nymph, she barely had to try as her body fell into the familiar motion of cutting through the soft waves of the lake until she felt the water shallow beneath her belly and she was able to stand.

The water swished at her ankles as her feet touched land once again, running up the beach. At the sight of Azriel waiting a little ways down with her towel in his hand, she all but forgot about the race. She ran toward him, blushing at his gaze. He immediately rolled the towel open and wrapped it around her as she ran into him, securing the towel with strong arms that wrapped around her body and swayed her gently with the momentum of her sprint. His strong presence was enough to halt her and she savored the feeling of his body at her back, his warmth seeping through he towel and caressing her water-frozen skin.

She was breathing deeply now, chest rising and falling under his arm. Azriel reveled in the thrum of her heart under his hold, willing it to ease.

Azriel nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and she giggled, ticklish and giddy at his proximity.

“Did you see the race, Az? I wooon,” she sang, reaching an arm out of the towel to hold his face behind her. She leaned back against his chest, craning her neck up to meet his eyes, eyes that were absolutely drunk on watching her high. She was naturally competitive, much like he was during his snowball fights with his brothers. Watching her in her element filled him with pride to an extent she would never fully know.

“I did, I’m so proud of you, honey,” he smiled, sliding one of his arms up until it was slung across her chest, connecting his lips with hers. She tasted like the water, sweet and fresh. Azriel couldn’t help himself as he grabbed her waist. It was like drinking from a fountain with an eternal thirst he couldn’t quench. More, more, more. He didn’t care who was around.

She pulled away, flustered. “You sure don’t mind putting on a show,” she turned around fully in his arms so that she was facing him now. The towel had fallen slightly, now hung loosely around the crooks of her elbows. Her wet hair fell in waves around her face and to him, she looked like a goddess of the water. He was barely religious, the furthest thing from it really, but he’d devote himself to her for nothing in return.

After the food had been brought out, the Inner Circle enjoyed the lunchtime feast of bread, wine, fruit, and meats. After everyone had eaten their fill, namely Cassian who was half passed out on his back, they lounged on the beach. Nesta nestled into Cassian’s broad side with her book, speaking to Elain quietly. Amren and Varian had rattled off somewhere right after they were done eating– insatiable those two were. Mor was laying on her back, facing the sun, catching a tan.

“I’m so happy we did this,” Feyre said softly, addressing the group. “It feels like lately our joy has come from short-lived bursts of happiness or quiet. I can’t tell you all what it means to me that we can have this time without preparing for the worst.”

Rhys rubbed a soothing thumb over her shoulder. Everyone raised their glasses to that.

Azriel leaned back into the sand, one arm folded under his head and the other extended as his mate rested her head on the inside of his bicep. Tired from swimming and full from their meal, she curled into his side, draping a leg across his.

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” She murmured into the side of his chest, peppering kisses there on his warm, tan skin. Azriel brought his arm around her, pulling her closer and resting a hand over her hip, enjoying the heat of her sun-kissed skin beneath it.

He rested his mouth at the top of his forehead as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was like her sleeping drug. Whenever they sat back together to watch a movie, read their books, or on nights in with their friends for some wine and card games, she could hardly stay awake beside him.

His heart swelled. She felt so comfortable around him that her guards collapsed to dust in his presence. She gave herself fully to him, to his care, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold her any tighter at that moment.

Helion came out to check on his guests. “Like a litter of babes, the lot of you,” He chuckled as he took in his friends, exhausted and full, lazing about his private beach. His eyes floated over to her, to her dozing form beside her mate, beautiful and soft. Peaceful. Azriel was aware of his gaze– he always was aware of anyone perceiving his mate. He only opened his book and continued skimming his fingers on her hips above the waistband of her swimsuit. She was blissfully unaware, half awake, half dreaming, lulled into a world of dreams and darkness by the steadiness of Azriel’s breath and light touch.

After the group of friends were well rested, everyone made their way into the water again. Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel raced out to the middle of the lake, Azriel the obvious winner and it wasn’t even close. Cassian batted a wave of water over Az with his wing in tantrum and Rhys only laughed until his stomach throbbed. They played chicken, Nesta on Cassian’s shoulders and she on Azriel’s. Mor wanted to pretend-play mermaids and they dragged the males in on their fun. They begrudgingly played along, yet were silently more than happy to oblige them. Nesta placed a crown of algae on Cassian’s head and he fully committed to his part as King of the Plankton. They floated on their backs, swam in circles, and splashed waves at each other.

Climbing the jagged, rocky cliffs on either side of the lake, they jumped off of their ledges into the water below, in flips and turns, nosedives and backflips. The setting sun cooled the water, a pink and purple sky above their heads melting into an inky blue that lined the horizon.

A perfect day.

Everyone grew tired again. From the beach music began to play. Light and upbeat, but beautiful and soft– distinctly Day Court.

Azriel gently grabbed her hand, leading her behind one of the cliffs they had jumped off of. It was the largest cliff jutting out of the lake and provided complete privacy when they were on the other side of it.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone all day,” Azriel said, removing a hand from under the surface of the water and moving a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. He took in her tanned skin and sun-blushed shoulders and cheeks.

“All you had to do was ask,” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Azriel’s self control snapped like a rubber band and he pushed his body through the water against her, pinning her to the rock behind them. His hand cradled the back of her head against the jagged cuts of the cliff. He needed more, but he paced himself, letting himself savor the feel of her skin under the water. Azriel ran his hand up and down the side of her stomach, his fingertips trailing the skin as he moved. Her skin pebbled in the wake of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine. Even in his frenzy he took his time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slanted his lips over hers, water sloshing between their bodies in whatever space was left.

She sighed into his mouth and it drove him crazy. Pressing her chest to his, she needed to be as close as could, within his very being if it was possible.

“If I could just crawl into your skin and live inside your heart I would,” She told him one drunken night when she’d gotten so trashed with Nesta and Mor that he needed to fly her back home rather than walk like they always did after a night out. Azriel never forgot those words, and everytime they kissed or hugged he was reminded of them with an intensity that made his chest squeeze.

“Az,” She whispered into his mouth. His hands lowered from her waist to her hips, thumbs skimming the waistband of her bottoms again.

She couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how much time passed, he drove her absolutely mad. They’d only stopped for air once they absolutely could not breathe anymore, and even then, Azriel didn’t pull too far away, needing to feel her breath on him.

“What has gotten into you today?” She laughed lightly, though definitely not complaining. It was not like him to be so risky, to be so passionate when they weren’t completely alone.

“I just love you,” was all he said.

Night fell over the Day Court slowly but surely. The day had gone on forever. By the time it was dark enough, some of Helion’s housekeepers started a bonfire and replenished the beach with more food and wine.

She laid down on the blankets again with Azriel beside her, propped up on his elbow and leaning on his side so he was looking directly down at her. Their legs were intertwined and they laughed and spoke softly, a bit away from the rest of the group.

Azriel’s free hand rested on the plane of her soft belly, listening more than he spoke. Of course he was a man of few words, but around her, he enjoyed letting her speak. It was one of his favorite things, learning more and more about the way her brilliant mind worked with the things she said.

With her thoughts, ideas, and opinions, he thought she was incredibly intelligent– the smartest person he knew. He learned so much from her eloquent tongue, adoration filling him from head to toe when she went on her tangents.

The first time she even went on one of her rants in front of him, even before the bond had snapped into place, she was flustered and apologized to Azriel. At the time, she didn’t know Azriel liked her back and dread filled her veins at the idea that she possibly scared him away for good. But he simply shook his head and encouraged her, asking questions and helping her carry the conversation when he felt it start to falter with her hesitation.

They rejoined their friends at some point– he couldn’t remember when, or how long they’d been lost in each other. When she said she wanted to go sit with everyone else for a bit, he agreed. He’d always follow her wherever she led, no questions asked. Back up the beach, up to their room, to the ends of the earth, even.

[klausysworld]

hey you can write something where klaus loves y/n and although their feelings are obvious they are not together, and one day a witch attacks him and leaves him very weak and when his brothers want to take care of him he refuses and only wants y/n to take care of him and take advantage her situation to be closer to her.

Please kiss me better

I had 4 missed calls from Elijah, 3 from Kol and 7 from Rebekah. My heart began to race as i immediately ran towards the Mikaelsons as fast as my legs would go. That many missed calls only ever happened when something really bad happened.

I burst through the front door and scrambled ip the stairs taking two step at a time before scrambling into Klaus’ room without a second thought. The second i stepped foot inside all eyes were on me. Elijah with a slightly surprised expression, Kol who looked arrogant as usual and Rebekah who smiled and waved. Then i looked to Klaus and my eyes widened. He lay weakly on top his bed, a layer of sweat coating his body, his face drained of colour except for his red eyes that carried dark bag’s beneath them.

“Oh my god” i whispered as i hurried over to his side, his lips twitched upward slightly before his brows furrowed together and he groaned in pain

“What- what happened to him??” I questioned, my head whipping round to the siblings who all had a certain look on their faces that I couldn’t make out.

“Witches, they seemed to have..tortured him of sorts and left an on going affect on his body to leave him writhing in pain even after their deaths” Elijah explained as he neared us. I looked back to Klaus and took his hand gently and sat on the edge of the bed next to him

“Can’t you give him some blood or something? Why are none of you tending to him?” I asked becoming annoyed by their strange stares and silence

“He only wanted you, wouldn’t let any of us help him” Kol said while skipping on over.

“Didn’t you Nikky? Wanted y/n to hold you hand and count to 10 while you take some deep breaths” he cooed mockingly, i could see the rage in Klaus’ eyes as he attempted to move only to squeeze to my hand tightly as his expression was over taken in pain again. Kol reached his hand over to boop his nose making me smack his wrist harshly, he hissed and each of the sibling looked at me shocked

“That was mean” Kol whined

“Out, all of you, if you’re not here to be helpful then out” i pointed to the door. Rebekah looked thoroughly amused as they all one by one left the room, the door clicking shut behind them before i turned back to Klaus. He had the tiniest of smirks on his face as i frowned at him

“What did they do to you?” I asked quietly, my hands cupping his face, his skin was boiling and i quickly retracted my hand, a small whine sounding from his throat in response but he blushed straight after so i didn’t comment on it.

I quickly went off to his bathroom, grabbing a flannel and soaking it in cold water before hurrying back over to his weak state. His eyes drooped as i let the freezing material rest against his burning skin. I dabbed it over her cheeks gently before leaving it against his forehead.

“Are you thirsty?” I asked softly, his eyes opened back up to look at me as his hand moved to hold mine, i smiled at him as i gently squeezed his hand and sat back down with him. I pulled his arm to my lap and fiddled with his fingers, tracing them and holding them. I glanced back to see his eyes on our hands, a certain softness in his eyes that i’d come to love.

His eyes flicked back to mine after a minute and i tilted my head slightly. His lips parted for him to speak but no words came out as his throat ran dry, raspy gasps leaving him as he tried to talk.

“Nik what- oh! Water yeap water” i realised but he shook his head

“Not water… blood?” I question and he nodded slightly. I glanced to my wrist and back at him, he wouldn’t hurt me, probably. Slowly i brought my arm to his face looking at him with a little hesitancy.

His lips pressed my skin a couple times, they were softer than i had imagined and left a tingle in their wake. I wasn’t expecting his tongue to lick along my skin, my eyes widened as a shiver ran through me. His teeth sunk down into my skin almost gently. The feeling of my blood leaving my body was odd. Knowing it was him who was drinking made it better. The experience was no where near as painful as i had expected, he was clearly enjoying himself at i watched his hands move to hold onto my arm, pulling me ontop of him, straddling him. He left out a muffled moan against my skin as he fed. His eyes slowly rose to meet mine as he pulled away and kissed the wounds he left before licking his lips. I could feel the blush spreading across my face as I watched his lips tug back into his regular smirk.

“You taste divine” he rasped making me blush deeper. I cleared my throat and attempted to get off of him but his hands moved to hold my thighs keeping them either side of him.

“Klaus-“

“You gotta take care of me love” he cut me off with a smug smile

“I can’t do that if I’m sat on you” i mumbled

“Nonsense you’re already making me feel better”

“I liked you better when you were unable to talk” I muttered as i took the cloth from his head and dapped it over his skin listening to him hum in satisfaction.

“At least you’re not as hot as you were earlier” i murmured with the back of my hand against his forehead

“I think you’ll find i get hotter by the second love” he grinned, yep he was definitely feeling better

“I thought you were sick?” I questioned “i suppose if you’re all better i can go on home” immediately his hands were pulling me down so i was lead ontop of him as he groaned dramatically

“Noo it hurts love, it hurts” he cried while caging me to him as i laughed.

“Where does it hurt? Would you like me to kiss it all better?” I asked mockingly but his smirk only broadened

“Mm I’m not sure if you’re up for kissing me where i need it” he purred as my face grew hot.

“I highly doubt you’re hurt there” I muttered as he pouted

“How would you know unless you check?”

I rolled my eyes in response and pushed myself off of him and sat next to him on his bed

“You were sweet when you couldn’t move” i complained

“I am very sweet, charming even” he argued

“Who ever told you that?” I asked

“Many many people” he assured

“Mhm sure”

“Love?” He called as i wondered back into the bathroom to get rid of the flannel

“Yeah?” I yelled back

“I need you” he called and i huffed as i came back to find him sat up but clearly still weak despite his confidence. His arms gave out as he tried to push himself up further making me hurry back over to him. I helped prop him up with pillows as he slumped back down, his head fell to my shoulder while his breathing grew heavier

“You need to rest” i told him and he nodded weakly

“Okay” he whispered, his body limp against me as i cupped his cheek in my hand. I shifted him back to lay down comfortably and pulled a blanket over him

“I don’t want to sleep in my jeans” he mumbled and i gave him a look

“I am not changing you”

“What if i say please?”

“No”

“I will give you whatever you like love, if you would please help me be more comfortable so that I don’t have to writhe in pain in my own bed” his lips fell into a pout and his eyes became rounder like a puppys would as he looked at me.

“Fine. But I’m telling Kol about this” I muttered as i pulled the blanket off him and undid the button on the jeans

“You absolutely will not” his face looked almost scared as he stared back at me

“Just sit still” i mumbled as he shuffled beneath me

“Klaus i swear to god- just behave!” He froze under the command and looked to me with raised brows

“Didn’t take you for the type love” he uttered with a large grin as i pulled his trousers down his legs and folded them before putting them on the chair next to the foot of the bed. I made no comment as i looked back to him blankly

“My shirt too love” he smiled and i sighed as i moved back up and pulled it over her head leaving him in only his boxers. I couldn’t help but glance down only to end up staring as I noticed how big it was. He was very clearly hard and the thin material allowed me to see the outlines of the veins that climbed up his length. I looked back to him seeing his smug face

“Please kiss me better” he murmured his eyes darkening

“Just go to sleep” i told him while pulling the blanket up his body to cover him and turned h the lamp off before making my way over to the door

“You’re leaving me?” He asked a little quieter than earlier

“You just need to sleep and you’ll be fine”

“But…i still need you to stay, what if i wake up and I’m burning up again?” He questioned and i smiled to myself before getting into the bed with him

“Fine but just because you’re ill” I muttered, his body rolled so his head was on my chest, his face nuzzling my breasts

“Klaus-“

“It’s comfy” he mumbled

“I don’t like you” i huffed

“You love me” he yawned

“Mhm”

[neonlight2]

Jaehaera (oc) x Daemon Targaryen

War alongside Daemon

Because you asked so nicely… @bluecloudsworld.

Masterlist

“Where the hell is he?”

“Be patient uncle—,” Laenor all but pleaded, his eyes flickering from place to place, searching for a sign, a flutter in the clouds, a piercing squeal, the glimpse of red.

“I knew this was a mistake, no right fool would go into the pits in these conditions, and the fact we are now trusting a madman—,”

“Daemon will help us—,”

“He will ruin us!” Lord Vaemond scream, rage of defeat boiling through his throat. “And Driftmark will be left in shambles because of the King’s neglect and his brothers temperament.”

Laenor could feel the words weighing on his tongue, you’re the reason we lost the first half of this war. But he dare not say it.

While his uncle spoke of temper as if he was not throwing a tantrum this very moment, Laenor knew better than to test it farther. Vaemond got rash when angry, both in mouth and hands.

And the last thing Laenor needed was more inner conflict within his family due to an avoidable squabble.

“Father trusts him,” Laenor reasoned, his hands held out, meant to mend the tension, “and Daemon promised not to do anything foolish.”

Vaemond scoffed at the thought, the rogue prince not causing trouble? What a thought.

“I can’t believe the king is allowing this.”

“Uncle—,”

“It’s bad enough that we have let his fool of a brother lead, let only have to coddle a child.”

“Uncle, be—,” Laenor eyes grew desperate to stop his uncle, eyes straying to behind the ranting lord, whom had no concern for his surroundings.

“A princess no less, who’ll no doubt need coddling—,”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll be fine Lord Vaemond, but it’s nice to hear that you care so much for my well being.”

Laenor’s uncle stilled, arms tense with the outrage he could no longer express. It would seem that he needed practice when reviewing his surroundings.

Turning with a placated smile, the prideful Lord laughed as if everything he said were a mere jest, and those not laughing were too stiff.

“Princess!” He announced, acting down his surprise with mocking joy. “Lovely to see you once again. My god how much you’ve grown! You were at my belt the last time we met, now you’re nearly as tall—perhaps even taller than me.” He realized her true size as she approached him further, stalking up so smoothly one would think she were slithering.

Humming in agreement, Jaehaera passed by Vaemond without a second thought in order to glance at the battle plans scattered about the makeshift table. “Daemon is off surveilling the territory for us, so I’m here to help lead you in his stead,” glancing up, having seen enough to know that there truly was no plan, Jaehaera gave Laenor a playful wink to acknowledge her dear friend, “I hope that does not disappoint you too much.”

“No,” Vaemond quickly lied corrected. “I’m just saddened Daemon did not keep his word as he said. He’s rather…”

“Chaotic?” Jaehaera threw out, moving the map as she pleased, “Dishonest? Undependable?”

Allowing himself to laugh, Vaemond nodded furiously. “Exactly, I’m overjoyed at least you agree with me princess—,”

“I think you should lead the west troops, closer to the coast.” Jaehaera interrupts, tapping against the wood to show where she meant. “You are better suited for the sea, if anything should go wrong you can take your troops to the water and attack from there.”

There was a new tension in the air, and Laenor could since the band about to break.

“Jaehaera, maybe I should take the west, and my uncle should help you—,”

“Laenor, with all of your skill on land, you lack what is needed for sea warfare. Besides,” she glances from her willing, soon to be brother in law, to his uncle, “ a victory on water is as great as any on land. It should be a wonderful opportunity to fully show the power of your house Lord Vaemond, the infamous ‘sea snakes’.”

She’s baiting him, Laenor thought.

She would make him a coward if not mediocre.

“And where do you and Daemon play into this,” Vaemond grits, “the hero’s in the middle of the battle? Wont it be hard to share the spotlight with a showman like Daemon?”

Smiling, Jaehaera leans back, resting her arms on her sword. “On the contrary, Daemon is rather docile when it comes to those he respects. He’s already agreed to play whatever part I have for him.”

She shrugs slightly, “It would seem he’s only dependable to those he’s loyal too. And as for the limelight… Laenor will be the one to lead the siege.”

All went still at her decree.

“What?” Laenor asked, honest in his surprise. “Jaehaera, I am honored by your trust in my abilities but I—,”

Tilting her head, Jaehaera chuckles at the wrinkles building on the young man’s forehead. Clapping his shoulder with encouragement she said, “You’ll be fine. Daemon and I will be at the front, to take some of the brute force off the troops, and you are well versed in strategy. I have no doubt you will lead the troops to see another day.”

Without leaving room for anymore discussion, Jaehaera walked away from the table and held her face toward the sky— eyes closed with searching ears. “Daemon will be landing soon,” she stated with no hesitation. “Get your men ready before he gets here and thinks too highly of himself.”

Laenor laughs this time, shaking his head as he points and waves to his close guards. “Prepare the men and make sure they’re steady in their station.”

“See?” Jaehaera quips as soldiers scurry about her, waiting for the stomping of Vaemond’s furious feet to stop. “You’re a natural.”

“Do you want there to be quarrel between my uncle and I?” Laenor asks in a forced whisper.

“Come now Norry, you know I’d never put you in such an awkward predicament.” Jaehaera teases with fake seriousness. “I want to have a quarrel with your uncle.”

“You’re still using me as a middle man—,”

“Fine, I’m sorry—,”

“No you’re not.” Laenor retorts with a smirk, poking her side.

Caving, the Princess conceded. “Fine, I’m not, but I promise not to use you like that again.”

“Oh?” Laenor inquired. “Than whoever will be your middle man.”

Straightening her posture, Jaehaera smiles widely as her eyes open. “Who else?”

The screech of Caraxes would be familiar to anyone in the realm. It was only shocking to the people of Westeros when too much time had passed without hearing the sound, somewhere in the distance. Farmers would pray to the gods for their livestock to be spared, whilst noblemen clutched their hearts with fear. Jaehaera, however, found the sound sweet like music.

“He really is a showman isn’t he?” Laenor jested, watching the Rogue Prince land dramatically before their very eyes. Leaning closer to the other dragon beside him, he whispered, “You dressed like that to provoke him.”

Scoffing, Jaehaera tilted her head as she watched Daemon dismount his trusted companion. Both almost mimicking the other as they shook off the winds kiss.

“I don’t like being tied down by the weight of armor.”

“You don’t like being tied down at all,” Laenor teased. “So the leather you’re wearing is only for your benefit?”

“For all of us,” Jaehaera mused in a hushed voice as Daemon got closer.

Laenor whispered directly into her ear before rushing off like a child. “I bet you a hour of guard duty that he’ll want to mount you not even three minutes into battle.”

Mocking a shocked expression, Jaehaera’s head swung to the side, staring as Laenor ran away. “Bold of you to assume it will take that long!”

“Assume what Issa jaesa?”

*My goddess

A light shiver ran down the princess’s spine, feeling his lips trail down her neck.

“Behave Daemon.” Jaehaera warned, grabbing the underside of chin to push him away. “You can’t have the spoils until after the war.”

Daemon twisted around to look at her directly, a wicked grin across his face. “Are you saying you’ll reward me today?”

“If you—,”

“You know behavings not in my nature,” he said with a devious glint in his eyes, “give me something easier.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a reward if you didn’t have to work for it,” Jaehaera quipped, deciding it would be best to direct her attention to the fire puppy in front of her. “Why can’t you be more like Caraxes Dae?”

Kissing the dragon’s scaled snout, she embraced the heat of his breathing with a relieved sigh. “He’s always so well behaved.”

“Well maybe I would be too if I got a kiss every time we met.” Daemon stated indignantly, pulling her back into him by her waist.

“You’re so needy,” she whines mockingly. “We have a war to win.”

“So lead the way my little dragon,” he whispered, his nose brushing lightly along the skin peaking out around her shoulders.

“I’m not little.” Jaehaera said in an irritated tone before hissing from a harsh sting.

He bit her.

Properly enough to leave canine marks in her skin.

“Daemon, I swear on Viserys’ crown—,”

Licking the spot as an apology, Daemon steps away, arms in the air. “Just a promise issa jaesa.”

“Of maiming me?” She asked sarcastically, trailing her fingers along the mark to find the puncture.

Daemon’s eyes darkened as he stepped further away, watching her intently. “That I will be the only one to draw blood from you today.”

Jaehaera laughed. “And what if I accidentally nick myself today?”

Squinting at her, Daemon’s mouth forms a strict line. “You wouldn’t.”

“We’ll see,” she remarked, quick to race her way towards the army standing ready, “now hurry along, we have a battle to begin!”

***

The ways of war had always come easy for Jaehaera. She thought that the balance of war was always fair. Death and life. Evil and innocence. She loved that everyone on a field could become equals no matter what station, anyone could kill or be killed. She loved that they would all dance together, close but far, sweating with grief and ambition. It was so incredibly human to her, and more intimate than almost any encounter she had with people.

But even with everything she loved, she hated war with the same ferocity. Jaehaera hated casualties above all else, thinking it the most dishonorable trait.

So she fought with rage. A burning spirit fueled by the cries she imagined ripped from the innocent. The tears they spilled oozing from her skin as she tore through another soldiers muscles, and she watched as their blood painted her red and saw only retribution.

Her blade slid against many throats, giving a fast death to those she admired for fighting well. Others who relied on their opponents bad fortune, waiting until they fall to the ground to pierce their hearts— they met more excruciating ends.

Her arms ached deliciously as she stood back, looking at some of her work— bodies on top of bodies—

“You are breath taking in red.”

Fluttering her eyes closed with slight, blissful exhaustion, Jaehaera replied, “You always said I’d be deadly.”

Their breathing mingled, filling the thick silence with heaving air and raised chests. Jaehaera’s eyes had shut tight basking in the sun that peaked out through the fog.

“The people will crown you for this,” Daemon stated, sheathing Dark Sister to his side once more, allowing her to rest. Jaehaera could hear his footstep but didn’t bother to move. “Would you let me serve you, my queen.”

If anyone else had placed a blade to Daemon Targaryen’s neck, they’d be dead within a second. But his words were treason, something no person in the realm could escape punishment for, he would revel in whatever she felt fit for him.

“Must you always seek a rise out of me?”

“It gives me your undivided attention.”

“You are a mess,” Jaehaera scoffed, her sword still steady as she twisted to face him properly.

“So are you, maybe we should bathe together.”

In any other scene Jaehaera would have laughed in his face, made a crude remark back, and leave him with a problem to fix himself. However, she could not look away from him, transfixed by the contrast of the rogue prince before her. His white hair stained with red, his eyes purple with blood magic, yet more black now than ever.

“You lost the bet,” Jaehaera whispered, easing closer to him and resting her head against his chest. Flicking braided hair to the side, she bared the back of her neck to him where a gash laid thick with dried blood. “He was a fine swords man.”

She could feel his heart start to pound, more fervently than ever. Than she felt his fingers, rough and calloused, delicately tracing the wound.

“How will you punish me?” His voice thin and disappointed.

Not for treason against the crown, but for breaking a promise to a woman standing alive before him.

“You’re growing soft Dae,” she said while letting her hand fall, easing the blade from his throat. “We will give our crowns to our King.”

“He would have you keep it—,”

“And I would have myself hanged,” she quipped. Looking up at him, finally, she could see his furrowed brows. “There is a balance to keep,” Jaehaera swept her fingers across his face, relieving the tension, trailing until she met his hair— the hair she was so fond of.

Gripping it tightly, she let her hand swing, and with a brief hiss from Daemon and the shing of her sword— he had lost his mane.

He could barely believe it. Eyes wide with shock as she slid her fingers through the new length, her nails grazing his scalp effortlessly. Years or growth cut off without a notice. His punishment.

A smile grew on his face as he watched he slip back, her own eyes in a daze. “You and your Dothraki customs.”

Shaking his head he braved her tightly, lifting her in the air despite her squeals, Daemon beamed like the sun. “Will you let me serve you now?”

“After failing your mission—,”

“You’ve already punished me for not keeping my promise, now reward me for my efforts,” he all but begged. “Let me clean you at least.”

She rested herself comfortably against him, allowing her arms to brace his shoulders and legs his waist. Jaehaera stared at him blankly before grabbing his jaw and whispering into his lips, “Fine, but cleaning only.”

.

.

.

There will be a follow up in: Came back a king… and queen

@bluecloudsworld @kyuupidwrites

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Title: Period Pain Sneak Attack

Summary: Kylian rescuing you from your surprise period.

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Wife!reader

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You've always had painful periods, but you had found a way to manage them. You made sure to track your period and had a stash of painkillers with you when you knew it was coming.

But this time you didn't see it coming. Mainly because it came early. You realized that eating too much beetroot was not such a good idea. You were at your mother-in-law's house for dinner over a week ago and Fayza had made the best beetroot you'd ever tasted. When you left you asked for some and she packaged it for you in a container. You ate the beetroot day and night for an entire week and now you were suffering the consequences.

Worst of all you were not home. You were at a restaurant celebrating your husband's younger brother, Ethan's birthday.

You felt that familiar wetness between your legs and thought it was just your ovulation. But after a couple of hours, a certain discomfort in your lower abdomen sent you to the bathroom. To your surprise, you were met with blood.

You didn't want to leave early and seem rude so you didn't say anything. Luckily, you had a pad in your purse and you managed to get a painkiller from someone at the party, but unfortunately, you were too far gone.

You patiently waited for the medicine to take effect but the pain only got worse. The next time you went to the bathroom the nausea had taken over and you threw up. The pain had gotten to the point where you could feel it in your knees, making your legs weak.

Your husband noticed that you were gone for too long so he went to look for you. He found you outside the lady's bathroom. You were leaning against the wall and bent over with your hand on your stomach.

"Mon amour (my love), what's wrong?" He rushed to your side and put his hand on your back.

"Period pain," you muttered in pain.

"Oh no, you don't have your painkillers?" He asked.

You answered him by shaking your head.

"Okay, let's get you home," he helped you stand up straight.

Kylian knew it was bad. You could barely walk and you couldn't stand up straight on your own. You leaned your body against him as he helped you walk.

"Attends ici (wait here)," he left you by an empty table and hurried to get your things. He whispered something in his mother's ear who turned to look at you and nodded while giving you a sad look. She knew how much your period bothered you.

Kylian returned to your side and helped you to the car. He opened the passenger door for you and helped you settle in before clipping your seat belt in place. He got into the driver's seat and started the car (let's assume he can drive in this one). He drove you home as fast as he could without committing any traffic violations. He kept on looking over at you. The pain was written all over your face. You were breathing heavily and shaking.

When you got home, he parked the car in the garage and carried you into the house. He carried you to your bedroom and gently placed you on the bed. You lay on your side in a fetal position, your arms wrapped around your belly.

He ran downstairs to the kitchen and put the kettle on. He grabbed a bottle of water from the water cabinet and brought it to the bedroom. You were already stripping out of your dress when he got back. He got your painkillers from the side drawer and gave you two and the water to drink. He took the bottle from you when you were done and placed it on the bedside table.

He went to the closet and got you a comfy set of pyjamas to wear. He helped you put them on and tucked you in. He got your hot water bottle from the bathroom and went back to the kitchen. The kettle was done boiling when he arrived. He poured the hot water into the bottle, closed it tight and made sure it wouldn't spill. He brought the bottle back into the bedroom and covered it with a towel so it wouldn't burn you. He placed the water bottle under the covers near your stomach.

You hugged the bottle close to you and thanked him.

Kylian stripped out of his clothes and put on a pair of sweatpants. He got under the covers behind you and pulled you close to him. He rubbed your back as he listened to your moans of pain. It was all he could do at this moment.

After a while, he noticed that you had gone still and quiet. He looked over you and saw that you were asleep. The pain on your face was replaced with a calm expression and your painful moans with gentle breaths. He was glad that you were not in pain anymore.

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[mastermindmiko]

Request: Where reader is jealous of some girl who flirts ron. And ron and reader have passionate sex

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you don't mind, but I've left out the smutty parts because I feel uncomfortable writing them. Sorry it took so long.

Green eyed monster and green skin girl

Pairing: Ron Weasley + reader

word count: 1008

Summary: Lavender gets too close to your boyfriend

Warnings: jinxes, some sexual innuendos, y/n being kinda cruel, maybe some mistakes? noot proofread

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Ron has always been a jealous person. Sometimes, it didn't even make sense why he was jealous. It had sprouted over years of insecurity and feeling like his brothers were better than him. I've always tried to reassure him and make sure that he felt loved.

What didn't make sense, though, was the fact that today, Ron wasn't jealous, I was. So when madame Sprout announced that Ron's partner was Lavender I was too busy fisting my pen in my palm and trying to ignore her obnoxious laughter than celebrating the fact that Neville was my partner which guaranteed me an O.

They were sitting in the seats a few feet in front of Neville and I, and after a few minutes, I couldn't resist the urge to glare at the back of Lavender's head.

Poor Neville was trying to explain something to me, but I couldn't help but fantasize about chopping off Lavender's long blonde hair or even better yet, setting her whole head on fire.

My blood was already boiling, but when Lavender let out a high-pitched giggle and decided to place her hands on my boyfriend's arm, I was seeing red. All I was thinking about was how after the lesson, I couldn't wait to give her a piece of my mind.

Suddenly, I didn't have to wait till the end of the lesson because her hair caught fire. She started screaming and shouting. There was chaos all around her, and I tried to ignore it as much as I could. I didn't know I was that angry.

"How could you do such a thing?" Hermione whispers, angrily from the chair behind me after madame Sprout poured water on Lavender's head, leaving her looking like a drowned rat. I shrug my shoulders and avoided her gaze, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please! Everyone here noticed the way you wanted to stab her." Hermione scolded, and I scoffed at her (very true) insinuation. I said, "I did not want to stab her."

"You did, too. I stopped explaining ten minutes ago." Neville pipped in from beside me. I rolled my eyes and huffed. I turned back to find that Lavender's hair was intact and after a quick drying spell, she looked normal again.

Lavender continued her antics and pressed on my boyfriend's bicep, no doubt telling him how fit he was. Ron flushes and awkwardly shifts away from her. He looks back at me to find me glaring at both of them.

Lavender looks back at where Ron's looking and notices me. Her face turns to disgust. She looks me up and down, then scoffs, and she looks back to the front. I growl and try to claw at her from behind my table while Neville holds me back. Neville says, "You can't go to Azkaban for murder!"

"You're right, Neville." I say while straightening out my uniform before sitting down in the stool again. I grab my pen and whisper, "There are too many witnesses here anyway."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" I reply, feigning innocence. Thankfully, the lesson is over in a few minutes. Neville and everyone else leaves the greenhouse. I wait, noticing how Lavender has my boyfriend cornered, talking to him about something idiotic.

Ron stops her mid sentence and rushes out of the greenhouse before she can catch him again. Lavender huffs and flips a bit of her hair over her shoulder. It was my moment, I slung my back over my shoulder, and as I walked towards her, I flick my wand to preform one of my favourite spells.

After it's done, I grin, satisfied. She's done packing when I reach her. I clear my throat and she looks at me. The give her a fake smile then say, "You should really know not to touch what isn't yours, especially since I know that you know that Ron isn't yours."

"What are you going to do if I don't?" Lavender replies with a hand on her hip. I smile, and head to the door, leaving the greenhouse, but not before replying, "You'll know."

Ron's waiting outside, fidgeting anxiously. I ignore him and walk a few steps towards the castle. Ron follows muttering, "I'm so sorry, I would never-"

"Relax, Ron. You were great, she, on the other hand...she'll get her punishment." I mutter the last part of my sentence. Ron looks confused. He asks, "What do you mean?"

A few laughs are heard and then a loud scream. I grin, knowing what happened. Ron looks back at the havoc that's occurring, and his eyes go wide. I can only imagine what he must be seeing, Lavender with green skin and hair. Ron looks back at me, eyes wide. Then, his face turns into what can only be described as incredibly smug.

"You're jealous." Ron says, and I look at him, mouth agape. I was, but no way I was telling him. I roll my eyes, but the blush on my cheeks betrays me. I huff, "You're insane."

"You're very jealous." Ron replies and lets out a chuckle at the end. I pout and start marching away from him. Ron wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest.

He presses his lips to mine and raises his hand to cradle my face. It's slow and passionate. I open my mouth, and he deepens the kiss. I feel butterflies in my stomach. He parts, voice significantly deeper, "You're very sexy when you're jealous, darling."

He trails his other hand and fidgets with the hem of my skirt. My eyes widen, and I look around to find no one noticing. Ron whispers into my ear, "How about...we go to my dorm, and I'll remind you how you're the only one for me."

He presses a long kiss to my lips again, but this time, it's filled with lust. A need grows inside me, and I can't help but let out a small moan when he pinches my waist. Ron doesn't waste any time taking us to his dorm.

a/n: I think you can guess what happens next. I hope this was good, its my first time writing a request, I hope I did it justice.