#writing this to try to heal myself after the finale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aemondapologistfrfr · 5 months ago

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How to Become No One

aegon x witch!fem!reader

Summary: The Dowager Queen calls upon you to try and heal her son. You never expected to find such a bond with another’s magic. This story of healings takes them across two continents and through many trials.

Warnings: 18+ hurt comfort fr, swearing, mentions of injury not too detailed but kind of, blood, pain, medicine, hurt sunfyre but he gets healed fr, threats, mentions of murder, murder, different kind of magic system, a healing journey fr, faceless men moment, house of the undying, oral(f receiving), p in v after he’s healed bffr

Authors Note: my friend begged me to write this but i clearly didn’t need that much persuading 🫣, i had no idea where i was going with this although it’s giving tower of dawn vibes iykyk, i’ve skewed a lot of things to fit my narrative, not sorry x

Word Count: 6.8k idek what to say!!

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My days in this dark city never seem to have an end or a beginning. I wait at a booth in the back of a tavern waiting for paying customers. Usually they come and ask me to place blood curses or cause immeasurable pain. The man before me is begging for something that’s never been asked of me before which has piqued my curiosity.

“The Dowager Queen is seeking your talents and discretion.” A man with a thick westerosi accent pleads to me.

“She is no Queen to me.” I look over him.

“Surely the payment she’s offering can sway you?” he pulls out a well filled sack. “This is just for the trip there. There is more waiting for you in Kings Landing.” the money he’s speaking of could allow me to leave these lands for good.

“What is the extent of his injury?” I lean back and look at him contemplatively.

“He has sustained burns to half of his body. He fell a great distance off his dragon. He has regained consciousness, but remains in great pain. The Grand Maester believes there are injuries within that are out of his expertise.” his voice wavers as he pushes the gold to me.

I sit back and wonder how the Dowager Queen of Westeros heard of me all the way in Asshai. Sending one of her men to this city to seek me out is madness and I can appreciate her desperation. I could probably get them to pay me even more than they’re planning. It’s been some time since I’ve used my powers to help someone. I grab the bag of coins and the man looks to me hopeful.

“I will come with and do what I can.” I nod to him.

“Pack your bags and we will leave at once. I have a ship at the ready in the harbor.” he rises quickly.

“I have nothing of value worth bringing. We can leave now.” I rise with him as he furrows a brow to me.

“No one to say goodbye to?” he asks overstepping.

“Lead the way to your ship.” I nod my head at him hoping he gets the hint.

We shuffle through the city quickly avoiding the dark streets and ominous folk. As we approach the dock I can see the ridiculously large boat this man no doubt came on. I shake my head to myself as I board and the men begin preparing for us to leave. I look back at the city finally ready to leave it behind me.

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The week on the boat was less than desirable, but I was finally able to find sleep. I was able to try and prepare a plan to help the fallen King. I couldn’t make too many decisions until I’m able to assess him myself in person. As we dock my blood thrums at the magic that is flowing out of this city. It slips around the streets and seems to pour from the other end of the city in form of living animals. Dragons. I didn’t think they would have them so close to their home and within the city walls.

Once we’re docked I’m whisked into a carriage and brought directly to the castle. The man escorts me directly in and up the stairs. We stop in front of a large set of double doors which he knocks on quickly.

“You’re back. Did she come?” a woman looks past the man I’ve been traveling with. “Thank the Gods.”

“I choose to come here. Not the Gods.” I brush past her into the room where I can feel the pain and hear the groans.

My eyes widen as I see the King being forced to walk around the room. There’s a man who is panicked and wants him back in bed and there’s a man with a club foot fighting against the Kings rest. I flare my nostrils that they would even entertain the thought of having him out of bed.

“Get him back in the bed. Now.” I say through my teeth. “Are you fucking daft? How long has it been since the injury?” I walk to the bed as they lay him back down as his watery eye looks to me.

“Hello? Can anyone speak?” I snap as I look around the room.

“Just over a week.” the man in a white robe says.

“And you’re the maester I presume?” I raise my eyebrow to him.

“I am.” he nods looking at me nervously.

“Mm, and this was your idea? To have your King up and walking about while he’s clearly in pain?” my voice starting to rise. Who knows what extra damage they’ve caused.

“It was my plan, my Lady.” the clubfoot speaks.

“I am no Lady.” I look at him with disgust. “And why would you have say over what is best for his health? You seem to only have one leg yourself? Shall I ruin your other and make you walk about the halls?” I walk towards him with darkening eyes.

“No, I-“ he stutters stumbling back.

“Leave this room. You’re not to enter again.” my eyes flash to the door and he’s quickly hobbling out.

“What should we call you?” the woman asks.

“Y/n. You are the Queen I assume?” my eyes look to her grateful ones.

“Yes, Alicent. You don’t know how much it means to me that you came.” her voice cracks as she looks to her son.

“I’ll see what I can do. Leave me with the Maester.” I wave them off and they quickly leave the room. “Tell me his external injuries.” I look to him as I walk to the Kings side.

“As you can see he has burns.” he murmurs

“Indeed, I can heal some of this but he will remained scarred.” I hum ghosting my fingers across the edge of the bed.

“He has a broken leg that we’ve set and try to keep elevated.” he adds.

“Unless you’re having him walk on said broken bone. How is that productive Grand Maester?” my eyes shoot to his.

“Lord Larys demanded, I-“

“You let the clubfoot boss you around? Interesting.” I shake my head. “What else of your King?” I sigh.

“Obviously he’s thoroughly bruised and beaten. I fear there’s more going on internally. His pain is immense.” he looks down folding his hands.

“What is his name?” I hum trailing my fingers down his unscathed side.

“Aegon.” the Grand Maester looks to my hand.

“Where is his dragon?” I ask softly as I can feel the fire within his veins.

“He’s been incapacitated and left at Rooks Rest.” his voice soft.

“Bring the dragon here. They need each other, especially now. I’ll help them both.” I decide and look up to the Maester.

“I will talk to the Prince Regent.” he avoids my eyes.

“You’re scared of him. I am not. I would like to have an audience with him.” Aegon groans below me at my words. “I will meet him alone and not here.” I nod my head to the Maester dismissing him.

I look down to the broken King below me and let out a soft exhale. This will be a challenge but I know I can fix this man below me. God knows why they left his dragon. I thought these dragonlords thought them Gods. I bring a stool to the side of Aegons bed and look to him.

“Can you speak, Aegon?” I ask softly.

“I can.” his voice rough. His lungs are still clouded with smoke and he’ll need a mixture to help begin to clear them and loosen what remains.

“I will make something to help with your throat and chest so it’s easier to talk. I am here help.” the words taste weird on my tongue but I can see the relief he feels at them.

“Thank you,” he starts to cough and I feel the rumble in his chest and the expanse of pain.

I lay my hand on the smooth side of his chest and release tendrils of magic into him to help alleviate some of the pain. His breathing settles as his watery eye looks to me. The tears that slide down his cheek crack something in me and I pull away.

“Are you a God?” his voice shattered.

“I’m far from a God.” I let out a small chuckle as I rise.

“Please don’t leave me,” his unmarred hand reaches for me.

For a reason I don’t understand, or refuse to understand, I sit back down on the stool and place his hand in mine. My other hand reaches up and wipes away his flowing tears and he leans into my hand. Healing this man below me is going to take more than I anticipated.

“Y/n,” the Maester walks through the door. “The Prince Regent will see you in the council chambers.” I nod my head as I walk to the table and begin writing down a list of herbs and tinctures.

“I would like these brought to me. He is not to get out of that bed. If I come back and find him to be standing the person responsible will find themselves indisposed.” the Maester looks at me with wide eyes and nods.

I follow a guard down the hall and stairs. This castle is massive and much brighter than I’m used to. We walk quickly down the halls avoiding anyone. We stop in front of yet another set of double doors which the guard groans open. I step in and the guard leaves me alone with the Prince Regent.

“Who are you to summon me?” his voice carries across the chambers.

“See to it that the Kings dragon is brought here with haste.” I look him over as I feel the rage pouring off of him.

“You do not command me.” he says lowly rising from his chair.

“No, the King does. You are simply a second son.” I hum walking to the table further assessing him.

“You will not speak to me like that.” he grabs his dagger.

“Have the dragon brought back alive or I will take your other eye before you can even get within range of me.” I say simply and he fumes stepping towards me.

I blink and when I open my eyes I’m back in Aegons chambers. He’s asleep and I can hear the backup in his lungs. I softly place a hand on his shoulder and send out my magic into his blood stream. The magic in his entangles with mine and it seems to be begging for help. Mine continues on the search for other injuries that will need my assistance.

My magic trails over his ribs and shutters. They’re bruised roughly and cracked in some spots. It continues to flow down his body and it reaches his broken leg and begins to stich some of itself into the marrow to help assist with mending it back together. He will still need rest and casting to keep it set but it will heal and hopefully quickly.

The Maester walks in with a basket and places it on the table. I walk to the basket and dismiss him. I begin to prepare the mixture and sigh knowing it’ll taste terrible going down. Once I finish I walk back over to the bed and smooth Aegons hair until he slowly starts to stir. He jumps and I feel his anxiety spike as I continue to comfortingly pet his hair.

“This is going to taste terrible. After a few days of this your voice will be back to normal and your lungs will be cleared.” he nods and lifts his head as I bring the cup to his lips. He gags as he swallows down the mixture and I help him lay back once he’s settled.

“I’m having your dragon brought back.” I hum looking down to him.

“My perfect Sunfyre.” he sighs as his eye starts to water again.

“I will help heal him as well. Until he gets here I will focus on your internal injuries first.” I hum sitting back on the stool.

The dragon magic is evident in his veins but he needs a dragon connection to help make it stronger and allow me to begin healing his fire related injuries. Those injuries won’t be easy for him to heal and I won’t be able to reverse everything but I will be able to help lessen it.

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Over the past week I have been able to heal his lungs and ribs. He has been talking to me and remaining silent around others. He’s pleaded with me to not share his progress with anyone. I can tell it’s from fear of someone I’m just not sure of who yet. I’ve been slowly trying to figure it out but he shuts down when I pry.

“Is there any word on Sunfyre?” he asks me this everyday and today I can finally say that I do.

“He shall be within the Red Keep gates within the hour.” I smile to him as his eye lights up.

“Will you take me to see him?” he asks sitting up.

“I need to assess him first and start his healing too. Your leg still needs to be in a cast and elevated. I don’t want the progress we’ve made to be for naught.” I pat his hand.

“You’re not frightened by dragons?” he tilts his head.

“Do I seem like the kind of person who has fears, Aegon?” I smile down to him.

“Please help him if you can.” his voice soft as his eye pleads.

“I will do everything I can.” I nod my head to him before I start towards the doors.

“Please come back when you’re done,” his voice a whisper as his magic pulls out to mine.

“You know I will.” I reply without turning around to him before shutting the doors behind me.

I know the dragonlords know nothing of the extent of their magic. His calls to mine so loudly it’s been deafening over the past couple of days. Even now as I exit the main doors of the Keep I can feel it lingering after me. I feel another influx of magic as the gates groan open in front of me as they cart in a golden dragon.

“Sunfyre.” I breathe out and his eye opens and looks directly to me.

The gates shut and the men pulling the cart quickly disperse. I slowly walk up to the dragon and feel the absolute agony this great being is in. I look at his festering wounds and steady my feet. His breathing is labored as he tries to crane his neck.

“Calm, Sunfyre. I will need to clean your wounds. I fear they’ve become infected and I will need to deeply inspect them.” I speak softly to the dragon as I approach with outstretched hands.

I place my hand on his ripped stomach and almost double over at the pain that’s overwhelming my magic. I steel my feet beneath me and bring my other hand to join. The wounds begin seeping again as the infection is slowly being pushed out of his body. I remove my hands and stand back to catch my breath.

I call for the guards to bring me fresh water basins and cloths. I take a seat on the stone and rest my back against the cart. Sunfyre grumbles from above me and pushes his snout into my shoulder.

“Aegon lives. Though I’m sure you can feel that.” I sigh leaning back watching the guards bring me my supplies.

I stand and begin to work on cleaning the wounds. The gouges are deep and I’m surprised that Sunfyre lasted as long as he did. The dragon groans and snaps its jaws as I clean for hours. Once I’m satisfied the wounds are truly clean I look up and notice it’s not the sun lighting my work but torches as the moon is high in the sky.

“Bring live feed for him. Along with water.” I instruct and turn on my heel to return to Aegons chambers.

“Where have you been? How is Sunfyre?” his eyes go wide as he looks at the blood on my hands and dress.

“His wounds are cleaned and disinfected. I’m having food and water brought to him now. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long I was gone or I would’ve sent word.” I sigh as I walk to his bathing chambers in hopes of finding something to wash my hands with.

“Call for a servant to make you a bath.” he sits up looking to me with furrowed brows.

“I should’ve washed before I came here. I was just in a rush,” I shake my head at my rambling.

“Guards,” he shouts for the first time all week.

“My King,” the guard bursts in the door not having heard his kings voice in well over a week.

“Have a servant come and make Y/n a bath.” he nods to the guard.

“At once.” the guard nods and shuts the door behind him.

“Aegon,” I start.

“A bath is the least I can offer.” he cuts me off shaking his head.

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Sunfyre is restored save for scars. Him and his rider will have that in common. I collect small vials of blood from Sunfyre throughout the week to mix into a poultice for Aegons burns. Sunfyre surprisingly cooperates and has no issues with my poking and prodding.

“What is this now?” Aegons voice weary as I approach with the blood mixture.

“The most painful part I’m afraid.” I murmur as I sit on the bed next to him.

“What does it do?” he eyes the bowl in my hand.

“Help with the burns. It will help heal and lessen them, at the cost of reliving the initial trauma.” I look to him as his eye goes wide.

“Y/n,” his voice trembles as his unscarred hand reaches for mine. “I’m scared.” a tear slips down his face.

“I’m here. You will be safe.” I murmur wiping away his tears.

“Please not all at once.” his voice broken and pleading.

“Of course not,” I shake my head. “I want to see if I can at least heal your eye first.” I bring my hand up to cup his scarred cheek.

“Do you think you can?” his voice full of hope.

“We shall find out.” I hum.

His unscarred hand holds onto mine tightly. I take my free hand and dip my fingers into the blood mixture and hoover it over his closed eye. I softly spread it over the burnt skin and I begin to see it sizzle. His hand squeezes mine and I feel as if my hand is going to break.

“It hurts, it hurts.” Aegon sobs and my heart cracks.

“I’m sorry, I’m here, you’re safe.” I try to push my magic into his but his dragon magic is linking with Sunfyres blood blocking out any relief.

I slide into the bed next to him and begin to smooth his hair as he continues to squeeze my hand. His sobs are slowly tearing into my soul and I feel absolutely helpless. His breathing starts to slow and his tears stop. I hover above him and look upon his eye. I get off the bed and retrieve a clean cloth and dip it into water. I wipe off his eye and relief washes over me. I push my magic into him and send it straight to his eye. The nerves are starting to repair themselves and I sigh as I feel the last connection.

“Open your eyes Aegon.” I whisper down to him.

He blinks his eyes open and a smile spreads across my face. I’ve done it. He has his other eye open and it appears to be moving in sync with the other as if there’s no issue. He scans the room and his violet eyes land on me.

“You’ve done it.” Aegon starts crying. I smile down to him and cup his face.

“You’ve done it. It takes a lot of strength to go through that again. You are very strong and brave.” I offer him praise and he begins crying even harder.

“Can that heal my entire body?” he looks up to me with watery eyes.

“It could but it would take many moons. It took me a whole week to collect this blood just for your eye.” I look to him biting my lip.

“And whose blood is that?” he looks to me blinking rapidly still getting used to having both eyes once more.

“Sunfyres.” I look to the now empty bowl.

“He allowed you to take his blood?” he looks at me quizzically.

“Indeed, I have a way with words.” I hum smiling down to him. “Although, I do have another way to help you, but me suggesting this may be overstepping and possibly a little insane.” I say hushed biting my lip.

“What is it?” he hangs on to my every word.

I’ve been mulling over this idea since I first saw the broken King. I have heard of many different magics and Gods throughout my years and this is the first time I’ve ever considered seeking them out. Running away with the King of Westeros is absolutely mad but I’m hoping he’ll come with me. I’m reluctant to admit that I’ve become quite fond of him and wish to take him away from his family.

“We will reside in Bravos as you work to become a part of the Faceless Men Guild. There they will train you on how to become no one. After you succeed, I know of sorcerers in Essos who can conjure a doppelgänger or a clone of sorts that would almost directly resemble you, save for a few features. From here we bring him back to Bravos where essentially you would kill him and take his face and in turn kill your old self.” Aegon blinks at me as he takes in this information and plan.

“You said we? You would stay with me?” he looks up to me as if this is the only factor that matters to him.

“I would, if you want me to.” I chew on the inside of my cheek.

“For how long?” he sits up.

“As long as you’d like me to.” I murmur looking to him.

“Why?” he squints his eyes assessing me.

“I’ve become quite attached to you.” I look to him with raw eyes. “My magic seems to hum and mold with yours.” I whisper.

“My magic?” he raises an eyebrow.

“We can explore it later once we’re safe.” I nod to him hoping he’ll come with me.

He starts to rise from his bed and I go to his side. He brushes me off as he stands and strides across the room and I’m left speechless. He opens his wardrobe and pulls out a bag and begins to stuff clothes and coin into it. He grabs a cloak and pulls it over his shoulders before turning back to me.

“Let’s go tonight.” I look at him in shock as he stands before me. “Oh, I’ve been practicing at night. I wanted to surprise you.” a small half smile spreads across his face.

“You amaze me.” I shake my head in awe of him.

“Come, I know a way where we won’t be seen.” he pulls me to the wall before opening a door to the internal tunnels.

“Put both of your hands in mine and close your eyes.” I hum and he grabs my hands quickly.

I look to make sure his eyes are closed and I slowly shut mine and picture us on a boat that is to arrive in Bravos within the day. I breathe out and open my eyes as I hear the sea crash onto the wooden ship. Aegons hands clench mine as his eyes open. His eyes go wide as his hands fall from mine as he looks out at the sea.

“Are you sure you’re not a God?” he whispers as he turns back to me.

“I’m sure.” I smile as I pull him to an empty bench as we watch the sea sway.

“What of Sunfyre?” he turns to me with worry in his voice.

“He’ll most likely follow our magic here and reside in the countryside. He’ll be safe regardless of his decision.” I nod my head assuring him.

We sit in silence as the ship hands begin preparing for us to reach the docks. We keep to ourselves so we don’t call any attention to ourselves. Once the boat docks we slip off the boat and go into the city to seek shelter for the upcoming moons.

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We’ve been residing a couple blocks from the guild and they were respectful enough of me and my magic to allow Aegon to reside with me and not within the walls. If they wouldn’t have allowed it I know he would not have stayed, he is attached to my hip when he’s not training with them. I don’t much mind because I enjoy feeling wanted for once.

He comes through the door and up the stairs into our main room and pulls me into a hug. He has begun to pick apart my walls and is the first person I’ve allowed to hug me in years, if not decades. I hold him against me and whisper words of praise to him. Everyday we have a routine of me peppering him with compliments and encouragement to get him out of our small apartment and then words of praise and adoration when he comes home.

We’ve become very domestic over the past two moons. We started sharing a bed instead of taking turns on the lumpy couch. I cook us dinner while he talks of his training and tasks and I listen dutifully. While he’s gone during the day I venture into the city and make coin by doing easy healing. If I want a little extra coin to buy Aegon his favorite food I’ll cast a couple curses and then make my way to the meat market.

“I have my final test tomorrow.” his eyes slide to mine.

“Already?” I look up to him.

“I have no issue being no one because I’ve spent my whole life as no one.” he says softly as I feel his sadness.

“Then you shall be mine.” the words fall from my lips before I can stop them.

“Y/n,” he whispers looking to me with glassy eyes.

“Aegon,” I walk to him and cup his face.

“I wish I wasn’t so hideous,” he looks up to me as his eyes become red as his tears fall.

“I don’t think you’re hideous.” I say hushed as I kiss his forehead. I slowly offer him kisses around his face and make sure to pay extra attention to his scarred side.

“I don’t deserve you.” he shakes his head as tears cascade down his cheeks. “I just want to kiss you and walk around the city with you without everyone feeling bad for you. I want you to see me as the man I can truly be.” his voice cracking as he continues to cry burying himself in my arms.

“I see you as the man you wish to be. Your scars have never made me feel any different about you.” I smile smoothing his hair. “If you truly wish to kiss me, then kiss me.” my words barely audible.

He pulls back from me and looks to me. He looks to my lips but shakes his head and looks away. I know he’s fighting an internal battle that I can’t help with. He lets out a deep breath and shakes his head and looks to me again.

“Fuck it,” he shrugs and pulls my lips to his.

My magic seeps into his mouth and caresses his. His tongue pushes into my mouth and slides against mine as I sigh. His hand travels to the back of my neck keeping me tightly against him as if I’ll slip away. His other hand wraps tightly around my back and I wrap my arms around him clinging to him. We slowly pull back breathing heavily and he places one last kiss on lips before stepping back and looking me over.

“Thank you for seeing me as I am.” he smiles to me.

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After Aegon returns the next day he’s beaming at passing. I hug him tightly as I feel his excitement as our next step is approaching. I’ve been storing my magic for us to make this journey to Qarth and have enough for us to make the return back to Bravos. We pack a small bag which is mostly filled with coins should they decide to be greedy. I hold my palms out to Aegon and he places his hands in mine and closes his eyes as he knows what’s coming.

We blink open our eyes in the morning sun as we stand in front of the House of the Undying. A gray man exits the single door and looks directly through me to my magic. Aegons hand is still in mine as he looks on at the strange man.

“Y/n, it’s been quite awhile.” his voice speaks directly in my mind.

“I require a favor.” I ask my voice strong and unwavering.

“A new face for your lover?” he looks to Aegon and smiles.

“What is your price?” I ask aloud.

“Come inside, we can discuss this with my counterparts.” we waves us in after him.

“Do not accept anything. Let me do the talking.” I whisper lowly pulling him inside with me.

As we enter the stone building it completely warps until we’re sanding in front of multiple seated gray men. Their magic is similar to mine but theirs always seems to leave my head reeling. I ground myself and look over them before me.

“How lovely it is to see you again, Y/n.” one of them purrs across the hall.

“I’m absolutely delighted to be here.” I look up to them with dead eyes.

“Come now, last time wasn’t so bad.” the leader of them walks down to stand in front of Aegon and me.

“Interesting that you couldn’t care less if he’s handsome or not. You’re doing this for him.” his voice slithers around my ears.

“What is your price?” I look to him expectantly, unfazed by his words.

“Why can’t we talk first? It’s been so long. Let us have some tea.” he hums as the room warps once more and we’re sitting at a table with a kettle and three cups around us.

“Do not drink the tea.” I push Aegons cup away from him.

“I hope Asshai and the shadow lands treated you well.” the man smiles with rotted teeth.

“It was a very eye opening experience. I learned many things that only the shadows whisper.” I return his predatory smile.

“Enlighten me,” he drawls.

My magic slinks out of me and pierces into his corpse of a body. He chuckles lowly as it circles around his heart but it disappears quickly as I delve deeper to constrict around his remaining life force.

“You know what I seek and I shall have it or your eternity will be cut short.” I nod my head to him as my magic begins to encapsulate his magic.

“You have gone where we won’t even tread.” his voice a whisper as his eyes cloud over with blackness.

“Do you wish for me to take you there?” I tilt my head.

The scene warps around us and we’re back in the hall with the rest of the Undying. They look on as their leader is crumbling to the floor and they all shoot to their feet. Aegon is ever silently sitting next to me watching me in silent awe.

“Enough!” they shout and I slowly begin to pull my magic back.

“Bring him out.” the leader coughs as his breathing simmers.

The only features that I see are different about the man walking into the room in front of me is shorter hair and blue eyes. Aegon stands as he approaches and looks to him shaking his head. He turns to me with tears in his eyes and I rise to his side. The three of us link hands and shut our eyes and when we open them we are back in our small apartment in Bravos.

“Can I do it now?” he releases my hands as the man with us looks blankly ahead.

“Before you do,” I pull him to me and place my lips on his. “I would be content to spend the rest of my days with you as you are now, Aegon.” I pull back look to him and nod my head.

He turns to the man and pulls a knife from his waist. He brings it up and quickly slips it across the man’s neck and helps him ease to the ground. As he rises I look to the scarred man on the ground and begin to trail my eyes up to the man before me. As my eyes travel up to his face I see he’s still focused on his former self on the ground.

“How strange.” Aegon says tilting his head at the body. “I feel so free.” his eyes make their way to mine as I take in his now stormy blue eyes.

“Your magic is the same. You are the same Aegon to me.” I wave my hand at the body and it disappears into a black cloud of shadow.

He pulls me to the bath room and he stares in the mirror. He’s touching his face and running his fingers through his hair. For the first time I truly feel his magic settled and content. It rests against mine lulling it. Our eyes lock in the mirror and he turns to me.

“Do you like the way I look?” he asks me nervously.

“I do.” I reassure him pulling him into a hug.

“I can kiss you properly now.” he murmurs into my neck. “My face won’t feel so rough. Both of my hands will be smooth as they explore every inch of you. I have a full head of hair you can pull on when I’m buried between your thighs. Men won’t think they can so easily steal you from me.” his words are laced with promises that tear through me.

“You know I didn’t care what you looked like before.” I whisper holding him tighter to me.

“But I did. So thank you for helping me.” he kisses my neck softly as I shutter. “I never expected you to do this for me when you walked into my chambers all those moons ago.” he holds me tighter still peppering kisses along my pulse.

He kisses up my jaw until he locks our lips together. His hand buries itself in my hair molding me to him. I moan into his mouth and pull him closer to me. My hands trail up to his now short hair and pull it as he groans into my mouth.

“I want you, I need you. Please,” he pulls back from my lips and looks to me desperately as I feel his need pulsing around the room.

“You have me.” I nod to him as he attaches his lips back to mine.

He walks us out of the bathroom and into our bedroom. He starts to pull off my dress quickly and groans when he takes in my body. His hands immediately roam over my skin as I shiver at his soft touch. His fingertips are hot with his magic thrumming through him.

“I just want to touch you.” he says softly as he lays me back on the bed.

His hands glide along my curves and he settles above me. He kisses me once more as his fingers dip between my legs. I shutter at his light teasing touches as he chuckles against my lips.

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” I whine as his fingers travel around my core avoiding where I want him.

He kisses down my throat and licks across my chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth as a gasp falls from my mouth. His other hand goes to my other to flick against it until I’m pushing my chest up into his face. His short hair tickles across my stomach as he dips between my thighs. He kisses my thighs as I try to control my breathing as I watch him.

He licks slowly up my slit and my head falls back to the pillow. His tongue spreads my wetness before licking up to my clit swirling around it. He closes his lips around me and begins a rhythm that has me bucking into his mouth.

“Aegon,” his name falls from my lips repeatedly as my hand snakes into his hair.

He groans against me and continues to lick against me. I come on his mouth as he continues at a faster speed before slamming his fingers into me. My legs try to shut around his head and he just chuckles into my core as my legs capture him. His fingers quicken and I’m moaning like I belong in a pleasure house and he tears more pleasure from me.

“I’d be happy to spend the rest of my days here.” he kisses my sensitive bud causing me to shutter.

He rises off the bed and I look at him with heavy eyes. He slowly removes his clothes as if he’s taunting me and I sit there and lick my lips patiently. He looks to me with darkened eyes as he strokes himself.

“I was worried my cock would be smaller.” he chuckles lowly as I squirm watching him touch himself.

He crawls over me and takes my lips for his own. I feel the confidence of his movements and he becomes more sure of himself. He grinds his hips against mine as he slides through my wetness. He lines himself up and pushes into me groaning loudly.

I whimper as he starts to move his hips. At first it’s slow and then it turns into the fiery passion like his magic. His hips pound into mine as I cling to him. His lips swallow my moans as kisses me full of teeth and tongue. His hips start to falter as I grind my hips against his.

“I’m sorry I’m not gunna last much longer,” he grunts against my mouth as he chases his pleasure.

His magic caresses against mine and I feel hot pleasure wash over me as his warmth begins to fill me. I clench around him while his hips continue to slowly grind into me. He kisses me slowly as he allows us to continue to feel our pleasure. He releases me and lays next to me but pulls me close against him.

“I never would’ve thought I could do that again. I was scared I would have to fantasize about you forever.” he giggles as he starts to pepper kisses across my chest.

“Aegon,” I whimper as my hand flies to his hair.

“Do you want me to grow it out again?” he looks up to me.

“Whatever makes you happy,” I hum down at him.

“What about my eyes? Are you sad they aren’t violet anymore?” he searches my eyes.

“I love your blue eyes as much as I did your violet ones.” I hum cupping the side of his face.

“Do you want to stay in Bravos or should we go somewhere else?” he looks to me.

“Let’s decide that in the morning.” I bring his lips to mine once more.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

#aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #aegon ii targaryen #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd x reader #aegon smut #x reader #x reader smut #got smut #reader smut #hotd fanfic

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citysuk · 4 months ago

Text

echoes of us | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: anakin has spent the last four years away from you, consumed by his duties as a jedi, trying to move past the pain of your departure. although seeing you again wasn't something that he was expecting, the reunion leads to a tense confrontation, where anakin's deep-seated feelings clash with his lover's sense of duty, highlighting the tragic consequences of their forbidden relationship.

words: 7,1k words (oops)

warnings: please, you already know me so ANGST. kinda manipulative anakin¿ only a little bit. stubborn reader for the sake of the plot, i'm sorry (i'm not). a little bit of spicy hehehhe. no smut tho. no use of y/n but no oc neither. no proofread. i won't say a word about the finale so read to know what happens at the end 😤

notes: i just- (SATURATED SCREAMS). i'm on a star wars binge and i just couldn't help myself, i needed to write this. all i want in life is someone to love me like anakin loves her.

It's been four long years since you left, and Anakin Skywalker has tried to move on with his life. He throws himself into his duties as a Jedi, taking on more missions and responsibilities. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, trying to forget about the pain of losing you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to shake the memories. You're always there, lurking in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of what he lost. His heart still aches for you, and he still feels a sense of emptiness inside him.

As the years have passed, he has become more stoic, more reserved. He barely smiles anymore, and his laugh is rare. His fellow Jedi see these changes in him and wonder what has happened to make him so serious and cold. But Anakin keeps his emotions buried deep inside, never letting them surface, never letting anyone see the pain he's feeling. He's become a shadow of his former self, the bright-eyed and carefree Padawan replaced by a hardened and withdrawn Jedi Knight.

As the Clone Wars rage on, Anakin throws himself into battle, fighting with a ferocity and intensity that borders on feral. He's become a skilled and feared warrior, known for his bravery and skill, but also for his ruthless efficiency and lack of mercy towards his enemies. Even his fellow Jedi, the ones who are closest to him, cannot penetrate the shell he’s built around himself. He hides his emotions so well that it’s as if they don’t exist anymore, and no one suspects the depth of the pain he’s carrying inside him. He still feels your loss like a physical wound, and he fears that it will never heal. But he cannot let himself think of it, cannot allow himself to dwell on the past. He has a duty to the Jedi Order and the Republic, and longing can distract him from that.

So he goes through the motions of being a Jedi, fighting in the war, protecting the innocent, and doing his best to serve the greater good. But deep down, he knows that he'll never be truly happy again, that he'll carry his pain to the grave.

There are times, when he’s alone in the darkness of night, that he lets his guard down, that is when he allows his emotions to surface. And in those moments, he allows himself to think of you, to remember the happy times you had together, to ache for what might have been. But then, as the night ends and the morning comes, he pushes those thoughts away, locking them back up inside him, and he goes back to being the stoic and reserved Jedi Knight that everyone expects him to be.

And the cycle of pain and loneliness continues day after day, year after year. He keeps on living, fighting, and serving, but deep down, he knows that a part of him will always be empty, the part that you took when you left.

He wonders sometimes if you ever think of him and if you ever reflect on your time together with the same sense of melancholy and regret that he does. But he doesn’t allow himself to hope for that. It’s better to just keep pushing forward, to keep fighting the war and doing his duty.

That's until he hears the news that your father is coming to visit the Order. His heart skips a beat it's the first thing that he feels. He knows that since you went back to your planet your father never travels without you by his side, and this won't be the exception. His mind reels at the possibility of seeing you again. It’s been four years since you left to help your father in his political arrangements. Four long and lonely years. The thought of being in your presence again, even for a brief moment, fills him with a mix of emotions. Anticipation and dread, hope and fear.

He tries to keep his emotions in check, not wanting to get his hopes up too high. The idea of seeing you again after all this time is too good to be true. Besides, he knows that there is a small chance that you will not come to the temple, but he decides to embrace the possibility of at least seeing you.

When the masters of the Order confirmed that you would arrive with your father, he couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline running through his whole body. There's gotta be some sort of catch in this whole situation. But the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it and needs it.

As the day of your arrival approaches, he can't help but feel anxious. He doesn't know what to expect, how he'll react when he sees you. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? Or will they surface in a wave of longing and regret? He tries to prepare himself, to steel himself for the moment. He tells himself it's just a visit, that it doesn't mean anything. But deep down, he knows that's not true. He's been waiting for this moment for years, and he can't deny the excitement and anticipation that's building inside him.

When the day finally arrives, he waits anxiously in the Temple, trying to remain calm. But his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, and he can barely keep still. He's acutely aware of every passing moment, every second that brings him closer to seeing you again. His fellow Jedi notice his change in demeanor. He's usually so stoic and collected, but now he's jittery and restless, out of character for him. They wonder what could be causing this change, and they eye him with curious and sometimes amused glances. But Anakin ignores them, his thoughts solely focused on the moment ahead. He rehearses different scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how he’ll act when he sees you. But no matter how he imagines it, he can’t quite predict what will happen. The thought of facing you again after so long both thrills and terrifies him.

And then, finally, the moment arrives. He sees you walking through the Temple, in the company of your father and a few other dignitaries. The sight of you takes his breath away. You’ve grown, your features more mature and defined. But the sight of you holding the hand of another young politician he heard being called Kenth Cardas it's what makes him feel sick to the stomach. His heart clenches as he watches you, a sudden realization hitting him like a knife to the heart. You’re with someone else. Another man. And the pain that washes over him is sharper and more intense than any pain he’s ever felt before.

It takes all his willpower to keep his composure, to keep the expression of his face neutral. But inside, he’s seething with jealousy and hurt. He had been hoping, even expecting, for you to be single.

The thought of another man’s hands on you, another man’s eyes taking in your beauty, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He watches as you, your father, and your companion make your way through the Temple, greeting the Jedi and discussing diplomatic matters. Every step you take, every word you utter, it feels like the knife is being twisted in his heart. He wants to walk up to you, to pull you away from the other man and take you for himself. But he knows that’s not an option. You’re not his. You never were.

The scene is too abhorrent for him, he cannot bear another second of seeing you with another man that isn't him. With a lump in his throat and tears of frustration pricking at his eyes, Anakin turns and strides away from the scene, the sound of your laugh following him as he goes. He can’t stay there, can’t watch you pretending to be happy with someone else. It’s too painful, too agonizing. He needs to get away, to be alone, and try to process the torrent of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. He heads to one of the quieter parts of the Temple, a place where he can be alone and try to get his emotions under control. He leans against the cold stone wall, his hands clenching into fists. He tries to push the image of you with another man out of his mind, but it’s burned into his memory, seared into his eyeballs. He’s never felt this level of jealousy and hurt before, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He feels like he’s unraveling like everything he’s worked to keep under control is suddenly slipping through his fingers. He punches the wall in impotent rage, the pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart. He wants to scream, to shout, to let out all the emotions that are boiling inside him. He stays still there for a few minutes which seems like hours, until he feels a presence behind him.

He turns, his heart racing as he senses who it is. And sure enough, there you are, standing a few feet away from him, looking at him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. An uncomfortable silence settles between them as they stare at each other. The air is thick with emotion and tension, and Anakin feels his heart thudding in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react.

He studies you as you stand there, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, but there’s a sense of sadness and resignation in your eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. He wants to say something, to break the silence that hangs between you like a thick fog. But the words stick in his throat, and he can’t force them out. Instead, he just stands there, staring at you like an idiot.

Taking a deep breath, you break the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “Ani... Can I talk to you? For a moment.”

Anakin nods, barely able to speak. His heart is racing, his mind spinning. He can’t believe you’re really standing here in front of him, that he’s actually talking to you again after all this time. “Of course,” he manages to say, his voice rough and raspy.

You take another step closer, the distance between you feeling like an eternity. You look up at him, your eyes searching his face as if you’re looking for something. “It’s been a long time, you've grown,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods again, feeling a lump in his throat. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how many nights he’s spent thinking of you, yearning for you. But the words won’t come. He’s scared, scared to show you the depth of his feelings, scared that you’ll reject him. “Yeah, it has,” he manages to reply, his voice flat and emotionless.

You notice his tone, the way he’s putting up his walls, trying to keep his emotions in check. You know him too well, you can sense how he was feeling, the storm of emotions raging inside him. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how he’s willing to suffer in silence rather than admit his true feelings. You take another step closer, closing the distance between you even further. You reach out to touch his arm, your hand tentative and gentle, like you’re handling a wild animal. He freezes at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your hand through the fabric of his sleeve, the warmth of your touch seeping into his skin. He wants to reach out and pull you to him, bury his face in your hair, and breathe in your scent. But he stands still, frozen in the moment, unable to move. You can feel his tension, the way his body is coiled tight like a spring. But you can also see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, the way his walls are crumbling as he stares at you. You know that underneath the hard exterior, there’s a part of him that’s aching to be let out, yearning for affection and connection.

You move closer still, your hand still gently resting on his arm. You’re so close now that he can feel your breath on his skin, the warmth of your body almost touching his. He shivers involuntarily, overwhelmed by your proximity. He wants to pull you to him, to hold you tight, and never let you go. He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. He notices the flecks of gold in your eyes, the slight blush on your cheeks, the curve of your lips. It’s all he can do to keep his composure, to keep his emotions in check. But seeing you this close to him, feeling your touch on his skin, it’s like a dam breaking inside him. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how much he’s still in love with you, and how much he’s been hurting since you left. But the words won’t come, stuck in his throat like they’re glued there.

He’s torn between the conflicting desires to push you away and to pull you closer. Part of him wants to protect himself from further hurt, but a greater part of him is desperate to have you close, to feel your touch, and to hear your voice. He stands there, caught in an agony of indecision, his heart and his mind warring with each other. He wants to do the right thing, the sensible thing. But when it comes to you, he’s never been able to do what’s smart or pragmatic. He’s always been guided by his emotions, and right now, his emotions are screaming at him to take what he wants, consequences be damned. He can feel his resolve weakening, the walls he’s built around his heart crumbling. He’s always been a man of action, but right now, he doesn't know what to do.

You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest. You can sense the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. You know that he’s struggling to keep his composure, but you also know how much he’s hurting. You take a deep breath, summoning up the courage to say what you need to say. “Ani, I didn’t forget the time we spent together, the promises we made.”

His eyes widen at your words, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to say that, to admit that you’ve been thinking of him all this time. He feels a surge of hope and longing rise in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. You pressed on, your voice was soft but firm. “The friendship we maintained for so many years will always be marked in my mind, no matter where I am.”

He feels his heart skip a beat at your words. It’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long, the confirmation that you still think of him, that there’s still a chance for them.

He stands there, frozen in the moment, caught between the desire to pull you to him and the fear that if he does, it will only end in heartbreak. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react. He feels like he’s in a dream like this isn’t happening.

He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face. He sees the honesty and vulnerability you’re showing him. He wants to believe you, he wants to let himself hope. But he can’t shake the feeling that this is just a cruel trick, the vision of you holding that man's hand it's something that he can't shake off his head. He feels that he’s going to wake up any minute and find himself alone again.

He starts to pull away, his walls going up again. “I don’t believe you,” he says, his voice cold and distant.

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart sinking at the tone of his voice. You had expected some resistance, but you didn’t expect him to deny your feelings outright. "What I'm saying it's truthful, I never stopped thinking about you"

He shakes his head, his eyes hard and cold. He wants to push you away, to protect himself from the pain. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says gruffly. “It’s too late, it’s been four years. You made your choice when I asked you to stay but you left.”

You blink back tears at his words, the hurt and anger in his voice like a knife to your gut. You had hoped that he would understand, that he would see how much you still cared for him. “You know that what we were feeling exceeded friendliness and was wrong, the attachments are prohibited. This was for something bigger than you and me both,” you say, looking at him almost guilty.

He scoffs at your words, his anger rising. “Don’t talk to me about attachments. I know the Code, I know about the stupid rules. But don’t tell me that what we had meant anything to you since you come here now holding another man's hand.” Anakin is seething with jealousy now, his hands clenching into fists. The thought of you with another man, another man touching you and holding you, it’s more than he can bear. He wants to grab you and shake you, to make you understand how much the sight of you with someone else hurts him.

He takes a step closer, looming over you. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he towers above you, his presence intimidating. “Tell me the truth,” he growls. “Did you ever really love me, or was it all just a lie?”

Your heart is racing in your chest as he looms over you, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. You can feel the tension in the air, the danger and volatility of the situation. “Of course I loved you,” you say, your voice shaking just a little. “I loved you with all my heart, and I still do.”

He sneers at your words, his face twisting into a cruel smile. He doesn’t believe you, doesn’t want to believe you. It’s easier to think that you’re lying, that you never really loved him at all. “Prove it,” he snaps. “Prove that you love me.”

You’re taken aback by his challenge, his demand. You didn’t expect him to ask you to prove your feelings, to put them to the test. “What… what do you mean, prove it?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

He takes another step closer, his body almost touching yours. He’s so close that you can feel the heat of his skin, the tension radiating off him in waves. “Kiss me,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Kiss me like you mean it. Show me that you’re not just playing with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the heat of his body. You’re nervous and hesitant, but you also feel a pang of longing and desire. You want to prove to him that your feelings are real, that you’re not just toying with him. You can feel his breath on your lips, the heat of his mouth just inches away from yours. "I'm engaged." You blurt out.

His face darkens at your words, the mention of your engagement like a slap in the face. He feels a surge of irrational jealousy and anger, the idea of you marrying someone else infuriating him. “So what?” he snaps. “You’re engaged to someone else, but you’re still here, standing here in front of me, telling me that you love me. Kiss me. You said you still love me. Prove it.”

You're taken aback by his insistence, his refusal to listen to reason. "It's not that simple, Ani," you say, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm with another person now, and it wouldn't be right to-"

He cuts you off, grabbing you by the wrists and pulling you to him so that your bodies are pressed together. He’s breathing heavily, his chest heaving with emotion. He’s on the edge, barely holding it together. He can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, the scent of your skin, the beat of your heart. “Damn the rules, damn the Code,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste you, I want to hold you. I don’t care about anything else.”

You can see the desperation in his eyes, the hunger and need. You’re torn, part of you wants to give in to his demand, to give yourself over to the passion and desire that always existed between you. But another part of you is wary, knowing that this is dangerous, that indulging in this could lead to nothing but pain and heartache. "Ani, stop," you say, your voice gentle but firm. "We can't do this. We can't let ourselves go down this path."

He scoffs at your words, his grip on your wrists tightening. He can’t believe you’re still resisting him, still holding back when you’ve already admitted that you still love him. “Why not?” he asks, his voice a low growl. “What’s stopping us? You said you love me. You can’t deny that you want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

You feel your resolve weakening, the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think straight. "I can't do this to Kenth," you say, trying to hold onto your reasoning. "I can't just throw away what I have with him. I can't hurt him like that. He's a good man."

He scoffs again, his jealousy flaring at the mention of your fiancé. To him, he's nothing more than a rival, a hindrance to what he wants. "A good man," he sneers. "What does he have that I don’t? What can he give you that I can’t?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. You know that your fiancé is a good person, kind and respectful, but you also know that he’s not the same as Ani. There’s something about your history with Anakin, something about the passion and intensity of your connection, that’s unique and special. “It’s not about what he has or what he can give me,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. "It's about the future and following the rules for the sake of everyone."

He feels a pang of jealousy and bitterness at your words, the idea of you building a life with someone else it's like his biggest nightmare turning into reality.

“You’re mine,” he says through clenched teeth. “You will always be mine. I don’t care about your fiancé, your future, or anything else. I only care about you. So stop thinking about what you should do, and what you shouldn’t do, and just feel. For once in your life, just let yourself feel what you know you want.”

His words strike a chord within you, the intensity and possessiveness of his declaration igniting a spark of desire deep inside you. You can feel yourself weakening, your resolve cracking under the weight of his words. “Ani, please,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. “This isn’t fair.”His words send a shiver down your spine, the heat of his body and the strength of his grip making it impossible to resist him. You’re caught between reason and emotion, torn between your loyalty to your fiancé and the deep-seated love you still feel for him. “Please…” you whisper, your voice breaking. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with intensity. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, his voice fierce and determined. “I’m claiming what should have always been mine. I’m taking what I want. You.” He leans down, his mouth hovering mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. The tension between you is electric, the air thick with desire and need. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart racing in your chest. You can feel the heat and power radiating off of him, the primal force of his need and desire nearly overpowering your senses. You know that you should resist, that you should push him away and run before it’s too late. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your body is drawn to his, your mind consumed with the need to feel his lips on yours.

He can see the conflict in your eyes, the battle between your loyalty and your desires. He can tell that you’re close to breaking, close to giving in to what you both want. He leans in even closer, his lips practically touching yours. “Stop fighting it,” he whispers, his voice low and sultry. “Stop trying to be strong, and just let go. I know you want this. You’ve always wanted this.“ His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, the truth of them hitting you like a ton of bricks. You know that he’s right, that deep down you’ve always wanted this, always wanted him. You know that no matter how hard you try to deny it, there will be a part of you that will always belong to him. You can feel your resistance crumbling, your body and mind completely under his control.

He senses your surrender, the last of your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his words and his touch. He can feel the heat and desire radiating off you, the air between you electric and charged. Without another word, he closes the tiny gap between you and captures your lips with his own. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like a circuit is completed. The floodgates of long-suppressed desire burst open, and you kiss him back with a passion that takes your breath away. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, the intensity and heat of it like a storm, crashing over you and consuming you whole. You respond to the kiss with equal hunger and fervor, his hands moving to cup your face, to pull you closer to him. He wants to devour you, to possess you completely. He can feel the tension building between you, the passion and need threatening to overwhelm you both.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him towards you and molding your body against his. You can feel his strength, his power, the taut muscles of his back, and the heat of his skin beneath his robes. The kiss deepens, your mouths moving together in a dance of desire and need. Your hearts are racing, your bodies electrified by the heat of the kiss.

You feel the possessive urgency in his touch, the hunger and need in his every movement. You can feel the jealousy and the anger, the primal need to possess you completely. And despite yourself, you feel your body responding to his touch, igniting a fire deep within you that you thought was long extinguished.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning into yours, his body still pressing you against the wall. He’s panting, his breathing ragged and uneven, his body vibrating with need. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice raw and hoarse. “No one else is ever going to touch you, no one else is going to have you. I want you to leave him.“

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts clouded by the heat and desire coursing through your body. You know that you should resist him, however, you want to tell him that he owns your body and soul completely. But your mind betrays you, your words coming out in little more than a breath. "I... I can't," you whisper, your voice trembling.

The words are like a cold bucket of water to his face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. He pulls back from you slightly, his hands still on your hips, anchoring you to the wall. “Why not?” he bites out, his voice rough and sharp. “What’s stopping you?“

You try to find the words to explain, to tell him that it’s too much, that you’re still engaged to someone else. But before you can form the words, he’s leaning back in, his body pressing against yours once again. “Tell me,” he says, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Tell me why you can’t be mine. I want to hear you say it.“ The heat and desire that was coursing through you moments ago has faded, replaced by a sense of guilt and confusion. You know that you should put your foot down, that you should remind him of your engagement. But you’re finding it increasingly hard to think straight as he presses his body against yours, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear. “It's a political arrangement.” You manage to say, the words coming out in a shaky breath.

A low, possessive growl escapes his throat as he hears your words. "What do you mean, a 'political arrangement'?" he snaps, his hands tightening on your hips. "Explain."

You take a shaky breath, your body still pressed against the cool surface of the wall. The primal possessiveness of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “My marriage. It’s an arrangement made by our families,” you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s meant to strengthen our families’ political relationships.”

His jaw clenches at your words. The thought of you entering into a political arrangement with someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you, is enough to make his blood boil. He moves his body impossibly closer, his hands shifting to cup your face, his voice a low growl. “So your family basically sold you to someone else for political gain?”

Your heart sinks at the harsh truth of his words. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known that the engagement was more about politics than love. But the truth hurts, especially hearing it said out loud. You can feel the tension and possessive anger in his body, the way his body is pressed against yours like a cage. You know he’s not going to let this go easily. You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Essentially, yes.“

His mind reels at your admission, his anger and jealousy growing even stronger. He can’t believe that your family would treat you like a bargaining chip like a possession to be traded away for political gain. “And you agreed to this?” he practically spits out, his voice thick with anger. “You agreed to marry someone you don’t even love?“

Your heart twists at the anger and hurt in his voice, but you can’t deny the truth of his words. You did agree to marry someone you don’t love, all because of your family’s political aspirations. You nod again, your eyes downcast. You’re ashamed and embarrassed, and guilt washes over you like a wave. You know you’ve hurt him by agreeing to marry someone else, but you don’t know how to fix it.

He pulls back slightly, his hands falling from your face. He feels a mix of anger, hurt, and jealousy coursing through him, the primal possessiveness warring with the need to protect you. “So you’re going to marry him?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you don’t even love? Are you gonna be happy with that?“

You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. You’ve never thought about it that way before, but there isn't much that you can do. You shake your head slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It's the best outcome for everyone. For my family, the Order, the Force... and for you.“

His jaw clamps shut at your words, a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. The thought of you marrying someone else, settling for a life that is anything less than what you deserve, is unbearable to him. “Best outcome for everyone?” he grits out, his voice raw with emotion. “Except for you. What about what you want? What about your happiness?“ His words sting bitterly, the shame and guilt you feel growing stronger. You know that your happiness is not a priority in this arrangement, that it never has been. But the truth hurts, especially when it’s said out loud. You shake your head again, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter. I have a duty, the responsibility to see this through.“

His heart aches at your words, the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of duty is something he can’t understand. It goes against everything he believes in, against everything he fights for. “Duty and responsibility be damned,” he snaps, his voice edged with anger and frustration. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who loves you, who worships the ground you walk on. Not some political arrangement.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the mix of anger and desperation in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. You know he’s right, deep down you’ve always known that you deserve more than you’re settling for. But duty and responsibility have always been pounded into you, and the thought of going against them is terrifying. “It’s not that simple,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s not just about me. It’s about the Republic, the Jedi Order…”

He scoffs at your words, the anger and frustration growing stronger. The fact that you’re still focusing on what's expected of you, even after everything you’ve just shared, is frustrating for him. “None of that matters if you’re not happy. You’re not some pawn to be used in someone else’s game.“

Your heart aches more with every word he says, the truth of them echoing in your head. You know he’s right, you know that your happiness should come first, but the years of conditioning and expectations are hard to break. “I can’t just... abandon everything...” you say, your voice weak. “I can’t disappoint them.“

His eyes flash with anger and disbelief, his patience wearing thin. “You’re more worried about disappointing them than about your happiness? That’s a load of Bantha poodoo and you know it. They don’t deserve your loyalty.”

He's right, you know he is. You've been putting everyone else's needs above your own for so long that it's become second nature. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face. "But what about you?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What about me?” he echoes, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re choosing someone else over me. You’re choosing a life of political duty over our happiness, over what we could have together.“ He steps closer to you again, his body once again pinning you against the wall. His hands reach out to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotion raging within him. “We could have a life together. We could be happy.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of the decision you’re facing hitting you like a ton of durasteel. You know what you want, deep down you know that you’d give anything to be with him. But responsibility, a lifetime of conditioning, is still weighing heavily on you. You lean into his touch, your eyes falling closed. Your voice is a whisper, choked with emotion. “Is that possible?” He feels a pang of pain at your question, the doubt in your voice makes him want to just keep you in his arms until you understand what you mean to him. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Yes,” he says, his voice steady and firm, despite the emotions churning inside him. “It’s possible. It’s more than possible. It’s what I want, what I’ve wanted since I met you.“ His hands tighten on your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Please, don’t marry him. Choose me.“

His words and touch cut through the fog of doubt and confusion surrounding you. The thought of choosing him, of having a life with him, fills you with a sense of longing and hope that you’ve never known before. For the first time, the thought of your future isn’t shrouded in obligations, it’s filled with love and happiness. You let out a ragged breath, your body tense. “I don’t want to marry Kenth.” You whisper.

His heart nearly leaps out of his chest at your words, a surge of triumph and relief coursing through him. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like a vise, pulling you flush against him. His body is taut with need and desire, the primal possessiveness in him raging stronger than ever. “Then don’t.” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “Be with me.“

Your body melds against him, your trembling hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. You feel a mix of relief and desire and fear coursing through you as you look into his eyes, your voice a whisper. “What if they find out? What if they try to... stop us? Or worse, haunt us?“

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes burning with a mix of passion and determination. The thought of anyone trying to stop or hurt you fills him with a fierce, protective rage. “They’ll try,” he says, his voice hard. “But I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to stop us, they’ll have to go through me first.“

His words, full of certainty and strength, send a shiver down your spine. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired, so protected. The thought of being with him, of having his love and loyalty, is both exhilarating and terrifying. You look into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “And what if it doesn’t work?” you ask hesitantly. “What if we can’t make it?“

He sees the doubt and fear in your eyes, and his heart clenches at the thought of losing you. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you fiercely. “It will work,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll make sure it does. I won’t let anything come between us.“ He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl. “I love you. And I won’t let anyone or anything take you away from me.“

His words, spoken with such unwavering conviction, send a jolt of hope and love through you. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so loved. You can feel the heat and strength of his body against yours, the possessiveness and determination radiating off him in waves. You close your eyes, leaning into him, his lips at your ear. “I love you too,“ you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve always loved you.“

Anakin for the first time in his life, feels complete, whole. He embraces you tightly, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and protective. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m yours. No one can keep us apart again. Not the Order, not the Republic, not the universe.“

You can feel the possessiveness in his touch, the way his hands roam over your body as though he owns it. And a part of you, a primal, feminine part of you, longs to be owned by him, to belong to him completely. You nod, your body molding against his, your voice a whisper. “I’m yours. Completely yours.“

His heart nearly bursts at your words, your surrender and acceptance igniting a primal, possessive need in him that nearly takes his breath away. He leans in, his lips against your neck, his voice a low, ragged growl. “Say it again. Say you’re mine.“

You tilt your head slightly, giving him better access to your neck, your body melting against his. You feel a shiver of desire run down your spine at his words, his possessive tone sending a wave of heat through you. You let out a shaky breath, your voice a ragged whisper. “I’m yours. I belong to you, completely and utterly.“

Anakin’s eyes lock onto yours, the intensity and determination in his gaze making your breath hitch. His hands coming up to cup your face, his touch achingly gentle. “There are so many words I want to say to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Words that will never do justice to how I feel about you. You’re the air that I breathe, the thought that consumes me, the obsession that drives me to the brink of madness.“ He leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "You’re the reason I feel alive, the reason I’ll do anything, give anything, to be with you.“ His hands move to your back, his body pressed against yours, the raw need and desire in him almost feral. “I’ve tried to fight it for years, to deny it, but I can't. I can't pretend anymore that I don't want you, that I don't need you. Because I do. I need you more than anything. I’m obsessed with you, completely and utterly obsessed. Living without you it's like not having a soul inside of my body.“

He pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, the force of his emotions like a tidal wave washing over you. “I will do whatever it takes, I will risk everything, I will defy the universe itself, to keep you by my side. You’re mine, and I will never let you go. You’re my love, my every thought, my every dream, my entire existence.“

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the intensity and passion in his words, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands reach up, touching his face, your fingers tracing over his features gently. “Ani…“ You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say. You… you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me feel loved, wanted, desired… worshipped.“

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he savors the feeling of your fingers on his skin. A small, vulnerable smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks at you. “Say you’ll be mine,” he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. “Say you’ll stay with me, that you’ll be my everything. I need to hear it, I need to know that you want this as much as I do.“

His vulnerability in that moment, so different from the fierce and possessive man he usually is, makes your heart pound even harder. You look into his eyes, seeing the love, the fear, the need in them. You never knew he was capable of such emotion, such passion. “I’ll stay with you,” you murmur, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. “I’ll be yours, yours completely. For as long as you’ll have me.“

He lets out a ragged breath, his body visibly relaxing as your words sink in. The fear, the doubt, that had been lurking in his eyes vanishes, replaced by something wild and primal, something that nearly takes your breath away. “Forever,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and fierce. “I want you forever. I need you forever. You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go. Together, we will defy the odds, we will fight fate, we will prove that love, true love, can conquer all."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle at first, but quickly turning hungry and demanding. His body presses against yours, the heat of his desire like a fever burning through you. The world around you falls away, leaving only you and him, lost in a moment of complete and utter obsession and love. You’re his and he's yours, and nothing else matters.

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i-like-writing-stuff · 4 months ago

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never changing; part two [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: y’all this ain’t much i’m still trying to reacommodate myself back into writing but i will share a final part 3 to this imagine eventually!!!

again this is just fluff and banter i love keeping things light hearted

and i’m trying to heal myself with what could’ve been 😔

summary: you and the hargreeves siblings start your rescue mission

“Well, you all certainly look shittier than the other,” You crossed your arms awkwardly, watching the seven Hargreeves siblings as they were all clutching onto their bodies, sprawled across what used to be the fancy mansion that they grew up in.

Now it was just looking as beat down as your family.

“You’re fucked up in the head,” Ben groaned, making you roll your eyes.

“Coming from the dipshit who roofied his siblings with space juice… that’s a big statement,” Diego mumbled, as the others nodded in agreement.

After Gracie’s birthday party, you intended to go back to the office and catch up on some paperwork. The current case you were working on was truly a pain in the ass. Ever since you started working on it a couple of months ago, you didn’t think that anything else was more important than trying to win it. Boy, were you wrong.

You intended to leave the party a bit earlier, so that’s exactly what you did. Even if you felt like you couldn’t get enough of bantering with the family, playing with Gracie and most specially, talking to Five, you eventually dragged yourself back to the car and drove back to work. You needed that gathering, you truly did- in spite of the inevitably awkward moments.

That’s why when Five called you to inform to that Viktor got kidnapped, you didn’t hesitate to drive back to the mansion and regroup with the siblings to rescue their brother. One thing led to another, you managed to save him and even celebrate after that, but it wouldn’t be a Hargreeves mission without something going sideways.

“We have to get going, asshats,” Five reminded you all, stroking his hair.

You wanted to comfort him, as your heart sunk watching the dark circles around his eyes. His skin was as pale as a ghost, and he was groaning lightly through heavy breaths. His long fingers were running through his messy hair, as his other hand was holding the marigold jar loosely.

You always thought how stupid it was that you could just look at him for hours, just because he was so pretty. He could be doing nothing, you still couldn’t get enough of him.

This is so embarrassing, it’s been six years, you thought to yourself, looking away exactly as he caught a glimpse of your stare, Besides, he looks like he is dying. Handsomely, but dying, nonetheless.

The same man who kidnapped Viktor last night entrusted you with a rescue mission to bring his daughter back home. You decided not to pursue it, eventually, and before you went your separate ways, you all had a shot of Sake, ushered by Ben.

The rest is history.

Point is, everyone seemed to have their powers back.

“Shotgun,” You raised a hand, as the seven siblings started cussing at you on your way to Diego and Lila’s van.

You felt very nostalgic, since so many years passed without being with everyone. It was bittersweet, but you tried to promise to yourself to not get too attached. You liked your current life, and as lovely as it was spending time with Five, that led to nowhere. It was just a stupid little crush, anyway.

The family van was parked in front of the building, right in front of your car, so Diego started moving some thing into your car trunk to make room for everyone. Allison and Klaus were talking to Claire on the phone, as Ben, Luther and Lila were bickering about the sconces and Viktor was still trying to calm his nerves.

“You okay?” You placed your hand on Five’s shoulder, feigning a confident smile.

You were honestly so concerned for them, all of them.

“Just the most annoying hangover in my life,” Five placed his hand on yours absentmindedly.

Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, he appreciated your concern, he always did. When he got hurt in missions you were always scolding him and he acted annoyed with your protectiveness, but this was the first time he actually showed gratitude for it.

“But you don’t gotta get all up in my ass,” He added with a smirk, taking your hand off his shoulder.

There it was.

He still held onto it, proudly, as you rolled your eyes, not even noticing how naturally your hands locked together.

“Oh please, you’d love me to get all up on you,” You scoffed, making him chuckle.

“Since when are you so arrogant?” He wondered.

“I may have picked up a thing or two from you over the years,” You shrugged your shoulders lightly.

“Should’ve picked up the phone more often,” Five said, causing you to wave a hand in front of your face bored of how many times you’ve been told that;

“The phone that…”

“Works both ways,” He interrupted you, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Then you don’t really have a leg to stand on,” You declared with a smile.

“Is that right?” He took a step closer, eyeing you curiously.

If you were to ask him where did that come from, he really had no idea what to say. Five always was unpredictable, but this was something new. But then again, it’s not like your relationship was that cold- it wasn’t. However, he was playing with fire a tad too much.

It all felt so ridiculous. How could he still make your heart thump heavily just with a simple look? You felt so little compared to him, as hard as you tried to seem confident. With the help of your platform boots you were still almost reaching his chin, and that was to show you just how young you both still were, even if your mental ages begged to differ.

“You still look like shit,” You broke the ice, still trying to keep up a tough exterior.

“Bullshit,” Five grinned, obviously feeling a lot better.

Little did you know how much your simple presence helped his mental well-being.

Surprisingly, he thought to himself.

“Are you two gonna suck faces or can we move along?” Ben suddenly walked up to you and his brother, as the rest of the family was watching everything unfold as if it was a soap opera.

“Why’d you wanna watch your brother kiss someone?” You wondered, letting go of Five’s hand to climb into the car along the others.

“That’s not okay,” Klaus agreed.

“You’re getting weirder by the second,” Allison told Ben, as he tried to argue.

“What the fuck?” Diego turned to watch his brother disgusted, as Viktor was just silently side-eyeing the tentacle man.

“I fucking hate you all,” Ben said defeated, looking around the car.

“At least they don’t wanna watch their fresh 19 year old brother eat tongue,” You couldn’t help the banter.

“Don’t say fresh 19,” Luther chimed in as well, as the siblings turned to you now.

“He is 64, nothing about him is fresh,” Klaus pointed out.

“Shut the fuck up, fuckface,” Five only rolled his eyes.

And thus the road-trip begun.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves imagines #number five #five hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy imagines #tua x reader

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liahaslosthermind · 1 month ago

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~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭~ Part 3

Part 3 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The Inner Circle meets the most important person in Azriel's life. Warnings: Lia rewrites what the Carranam bond is to fit her own fantasy, (Mention of) Bad injuries and domestic abuse, (Mention of) Azriel's dad 🤢, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one

“My Carranam.” The Spy Master replied.

No one was given time to think, much less respond, before Azriel had commanded everyone to leave the room. They would have been more reluctant to do so, the desire to know what the hell he meant was painful, had the serious look on the strange female’s face, and the look of despair on Azriel’s, had given them the impression this conversation was better left between the two.

Out in the hallway, Cassian finally voiced his concern,

“Should we have left him alone with whoever that was? He isn’t in any state to be fighting back should he ne-”

Amren scoffed at the question. “I’d trust her with him far more than you all.”

“What do you mean? Do you know her?” Elain asked.

“No, but he is her Carranam. You all might not know the significance of such a bond- I don’t even know much about it myself, but I know enough to believe there is no one who would protect and cherish him more.” There was a sort of amazement and respect in Amren’s eyes that told the rest of them that she was right. Gave them enough information to walk away from the bedroom, content on letting Azriel come to them when he was ready.

—

The Inner Circle was no longer content waiting for their Spy Master to make an appearance. All had been sitting at the dining table for what must have been millenia, plates full with no appetite as millions of questions swarmed their heads. Amren had seemingly been the only one to have any idea what any of this could have meant, but the second she got the chance, she disappeared so she wouldn’t be bothered with questions about something that had nothing to do with her.

Finally, Nesta broke the silence.

“Do you think he is purposefully trying to torture us by taking forever?” She asked, eyeing the very apparent shadows in the corner that had been slithering to and from the room since they had all sat down. “Or do you think she is-”

“It would be my fault Azriel was occupied for a bit.” The strange fae announced as she entered the room, Azriel by her side with a slight limp. The two looked… strange together, but also so right. White feathered wings stood tall behind the female, nicely contrasting Azriel’s leathery Illyrian ones. Where he was crowned in darkness and shadows, she seemed to have bathed in light. It should have contrasted each other terribly, but their stark differences only seemed to compliment the other.

It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how their friend looked thousands of times better than he did just hours earlier.

He was still clearly injured, but far from the edge of death he teetered on these past few days.

“How? Madja could only do so much for him.” Rhysand asked, astonished at how well his brother looked.

She helped him into his seat before taking the empty one next to him. Even as they got comfortable, her hand never left his arm, finding comfort in his touch after days of agony and helplessness.

“Junia is a healer. The best Dawn has to offer.” Azriel said, the pride clear in his voice. It made sense that she- Junia had been from Dawn. A Peregryn and an Illyrian, two lesser fae known for their warrior skills and inherent desire for the skies.

“I am not as skilled as Madja, but it's easier to heal when you know exactly what is wrong, exactly what hurts.” Junia said, rolling her eyes at Azriel’s shameless bragging.

She let out a deep and rich laugh as she looked at everyone’s faces, all pained by the many questions swirling around in there. Feyre noted that she hadn’t heard such a joyous laugh since Azriel had done the same when Elain had gifted him medicine for all the headaches the Inner Circle gave him.

Clearly, whatever bond they had between them was deep.

“You better introduce me, put them out of their misery.” She teased Az, who had been too caught up relishing her laugh, after a very long and rough berating it was nice to see her not seconds away from tearing out his wings.

“R-right. Uh- this is my- well this is-” Azriel stammered.

“Mother above Az, don’t hurt yourself," Cassian amused.

Azriel closed his mouth as he blushed, unsure of how to go about this.

“My name is Junia. As the brooding bat said, I am his Carranam.” Junia answered, side eyeing Azriel.

Keep it together, Az. It's a little pathetic.

Azriel responded to her teasing look with a glare. We haven’t had to tell anyone about this in a while. Why don’t you try to explain it to these idiots if you are so clever.

Rhysand noticed the silent conversation going on between them.

“You can converse like Daemati? Is that your ability?” The High Lord asked her.

They both hesitated, realizing they didn’t really know how their so-called “telepathy” worked.

“No- or I don’t believe so at least. When you communicate with someone, you are doing so verbally, even if not aloud, correct? I don’t hear Azriel’s voice in my head, I just feel what he is trying to tell me, if that makes sense.”

“Like a mating bond?” Feyre questioned.

“Also no. It's not our feelings that are conveyed solely, we can gather more specific meaning from it. Yes, Junia would feel I was not excited for this conversation, but she would also know I was offering her one last chance to leave, should she also not want to deal with all of your… strong personalities.” Azriel responded, looking at Junia. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his family.

She laughed at his desperation which, while very clear to her, she knew the Inner Circle was none the wiser to the just how far Azriel was willing to go to leave this table. She could see him coming up with escape routes in his head as he picked up his wine glass.

“Oh you poor delicate flower,” She teased.

Unfortunately, they all still noticed the blush that once again appeared on Az’s face, laughing at their scary brother, head tortured of the Night Court, being compared to a ‘delicate flower’.

Downing the rest of his glass, Azriel finally explained.

“A carranam bond isn’t like a mating bond. It comes from an old phrase, A Soul Friend. It gives Junia and I the ability to channel each other's powers, even make them stronger when we are together. Like you noticed, we have a different, more intimate way of communicating, far stronger than Daemati and mates can.”

“How the hell has no one else here heard of this bond?” Nesta asked, skeptical. Seems like something a group of people as obsessed with the mating bond would know about.

“It is rare, extremely so. There are also many… vulnerabilities that come with a bond such as this. To find your carranam is hard enough, most will never be born with one. But to accept such a bond is dangerous. And unfortunately there have been instances of others abusing such a gift. Tying their carranam up to reap their abilities, taking so much from them that both end up going insane. It became illegal in many places and eventually was forgotten by our world.” Junia answered.

“How did you find out what you guys had?” Feyre jumped in.

While this was Junia’s story as much as Azriel’s, she hesitated. Because there was another factor to that story, and she didn’t believe she was the one who should talk about it first.

Another glance between the two, a question asked. Azriel answered it by speaking up, “Junia is from Dawn. After my… mother was released- rescued from my father’s abuse, she wasn’t in wonderful shape. Fortunately, Rhys, Cassian, and myself found a place created by High Lord Thesan’s mother that offered aid to those escaping similar situations, Rosehall. That is where Junia worked as head healer. She helped my mother a lot throughout the years.” Such admiration and gratitude in his voice made several people at the table start to tear up.

Everyone was quiet. While Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor knew the story of Azriel’s mother being sent to Rosehall, they hadn’t known about Junia, just about the healer Az’s mother had gotten along with-

“You are the friend of his mother’s he sends gifts to every Solstice?” Mor asked, having been approached by Azriel for help with buying said gifts many times in the past.

“I thought you picked those gifts out yourself? You didn’t tell me Mor did all the work.” Junia turned to Az.

“I do pick them out, you just have peculiar taste. I have needed her help locating shops to buy such things before. That's it.” Az defended.

I certainly do have peculiar taste she silently said to Az who, again, blushed at the double entendre.

He quickly cleared his throat, “A few years after my mother had entered her care, while I was visiting, there was an attack on Rosehall. It was one of the families of a newer resident enacting revenge for escaping abuse. When many were hurt or dying… or dead, the two of us the only ones available to help, this bond had snapped out because of that desperation. It was new but it felt like it had always been there. We both leaned into the feeling and fortunately it didn’t end terribly. Suddenly, my shadows were able to start healing, and were able to talk to Junia, giving her any info on people who needed her help that she couldn’t see.”

Everyone was astonished at such a story. So different but also so similar to the mating bond.

“Since then we have been each others’ confidants. While we don’t live particularly close, shadow walking gives me the ability to come to him whenever, and vice versa. Plus the connection is always there, even miles upon miles apart.” Junia answered.

“Why keep it a secret?” Cassian questioned, knowing how much a connection like this would matter to Az, but confused because wouldn’t he want his family to know about him having such a bond?

“I am not exactly without enemies, Cas. I couldn’t have a possibility of someone coming after her because of me.” The sound of raw pain in his voice let his family know that this wasn’t something that was simply a fear.

Someone had gone after her in revenge.

“Your secret is safe with us. You are safe with us. Should you need anything, just say the word.” Rhysand offered.

The two carranam looked at each other. “After I spent a while yelling at Azriel for scaring me half to death multiple times in the past few days. We decided that maybe it was best I… step back from Rosehall.” Junia explained, sadness present in her tone as she talked about leaving the place that had been her sole purpose for her entire life. “I have healers on my staff that deserve the promotion, including Azriel’s mother, who has used her experiences to really become a confidant and friend to so many of our residents.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed at the mention of just how much his mom had healed and helped since she escaped his father.

Excitement filled the room at the possibility of adding another to their family. But Junia was still painfully aware of just how many questions everyone had.

“Alright, now that all the nitty gritty is out of the way, you can all begin your interrogation,” she teased.

All at once, tens of questions left everyone’s mouth. Not a single one able to be distinguished over the rest.

Azriel’s hand reached down to hold Junia’s, squeezing her while seeming to say I told you we should have escaped while we could.

They both downed their wine glasses while they waited for the Inner Circle to tire themselves out.

A/N: Originally, this was the end. But I think I created so much backstory and also fell too much in love with Junia not to add more. So please let me know if you'd like more to this series! (And what you’d like to see)

Taglist: @bunnyred-blog1 @that-one-bibliophole @fuckingsimp4azriel @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minaaminaa8 @lilah-asteria @azrielswhore @maksamillion

(If you are featured here but you didn't get tagged, check your privacy settings to make sure you allow for tags!)

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #rhysand #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel x oc

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blackenedsnow · 16 days ago

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hello, i..well if its alright i have a request for our edgy boy shadow..and im sorry if its stupidly specfic...can we have shadow with a s/o who has come down with the whooping cough?...and is crying and upset because of how long the sickness lasts and just how bad they feel...from not.being able to breath etc...again im sorry of this is oldly specfic i just came down with this myself and im just overall feeling misrable and shadows always been my comfort character...of your willing to wirte this thank you so much in advance..your writing is amazing..and i hope your having a good day and or night..

breathe easy

WARNING: Illness, emotional distress.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Sick! Reader

NOTE: Hope this brings some comfort while you’re feeling under the weather. You’re not alone, and I hope you feel better soon!

SUMMARY: Shadow comforts you as you struggle with the pain and frustration of whooping cough.

Shadow wasn’t the sort to linger in hallways, but tonight, he paused outside the bedroom door. The sound of your coughs, dry and relentless, hit him hard—not because he was unaccustomed to hardship, but because he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

You were curled in on yourself when he finally stepped inside, the blanket pooled around your shaking shoulders. Your face was streaked with tears, a raw redness tracing your nose and cheeks. You didn’t seem to hear him at first.

He didn’t speak. Instead, Shadow crossed the room, the quiet scrape of his shoes announcing his approach, and settled in the chair by your bed. His movements were deliberate and soft, as if acknowledging the fragility of the moment. “You’re crying again,” he observed, his voice low, neutral but not unkind.

You nodded miserably, trying to clear your throat, though the effort left you wincing. “I feel awful,” you rasped. “It won’t stop—it just won’t stop. I hate this.”

He stayed still, gaze steady on you, and leaned forward slightly. “It’s going to stop,” he said firmly. “Not now, but it will. I’m here until it does.”

You broke into a fresh wave of tears, clutching at your blanket, frustration spilling out in heaving sobs that stung your already inflamed throat. Every intake of breath felt labored, each cough tearing at you. Shadow reached out then, his gloved hand brushing against your shoulder—not too firm, but enough to ground you. “Easy,” he murmured. “Slow breaths. Don’t force it.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, shaking your head, though you leaned into his touch instinctively. “It’s—it’s too much.”

“You can,” he countered, voice edged with quiet certainty. “Look at me.” His crimson eyes locked with yours, calm and resolute. “One breath at a time. In. Out. It doesn’t matter how long it takes—just keep trying.”

You tried to match his cadence as he demonstrated, drawing in exaggerated breaths and releasing them. It wasn’t perfect, but the rhythmic focus helped your panic wane, leaving only exhaustion behind.

Satisfied, Shadow stood briefly and returned with a glass of warm water he’d left on the nightstand earlier. “Drink,” he said, pressing it gently into your hands.

Your hands trembled as you took the glass. He stayed close, steadying it as you sipped. The cool water stung, but it soothed some of the burning in your throat.

He set the glass down once you were done, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders without a word. His movements were careful, his expression unreadable but distinctly present.

“Do you want anything else?” he asked after a pause.

You shook your head weakly. “Just… stay?”

His lips tugged into the faintest approximation of a smile—barely there, but it softened his sharp demeanor. “I wasn’t planning to leave.”

The hours passed in relative quiet, your coughs gradually less frequent, though the misery lingered. Shadow stayed close the entire time, his presence an anchor against the storm of your discomfort.

“Try to sleep,” he urged eventually, voice low but insistent. “Your body needs it to heal.”

You nodded, eyelids heavy as you sank deeper into the pillows. Just before sleep claimed you, his voice cut through the haze, calm and steady. “I’ll be here when you wake up. No matter how long it takes.”

For the first time that day, the promise didn’t feel hollow.

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog fanfic #shadow x reader #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #x reader #ask #fanfic #request #oneshot

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obsesssedblerd · 5 months ago

Text

Finally

some jjk manga spoilers [236]

You had faith.

This wasn’t the first time Satoru Gojo was killed. He came back then, and he’ll come back this time, too.

You’re sitting in the living room of the house—safely located far away from Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes. Before the battle, Satoru, your fiance, teleported you here, kissed your forehead, and told you that he’ll be back shortly; once the king of curses is defeated once and for all. Only he knows where you are, and only he can get here by teleporting. The violent image of his body being cleaved in half is burned into your brain. It left you screaming and sobbing for hours. Your heart aches, and you try to breathe past the new wave of tears that rise to your eyes.

First, you feel strong, familiar cursed energy, then you hear a whooshing sound. You rush to the window to see Satoru—your Satoru—stumbling outside and breathing heavily. The shirt he wore was torn badly, and you see the scar splayed across his stomach, but mostly healed. Shoko’s work, no doubt. You gasp, then throw the door, practically flying into his arms. “Toru!!” You sob, and he catches you, nearly falling over from the force of you, but swiftly regaining balance.

He’s shaking, panting, and squeezing you so tight. Your hand comes up to stroke his hair, and he shudders.

Soft.

“Oh, my god, are you okay?!” You manage between sobs. “The battle– Sukuna– How is–”

“S-Sorry,” he breathes out, hugging you a bit tighter when you attempt to pull away. “Just let me hold you for a bit, love. Please…” His voice trembles, and your heart aches even more. Of course he’s scared. Anyone would be after what he faced.

“I’ve got you,” you mutter soothingly, and you let him take his time. His cold hands brush against your arms, and he nestles his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing in your scent.

Soft, he thinks again. Soft. Smells so sweet.

The perfume you’re wearing. It’s his favorite. A slender finger curls around a strand of your hair, and again, his other hand brushes against your soft skin. Beautiful. Beautiful and so fucking perfect. He’s here. You’re here. Just you two. Finally. Finally.

No wonder he hid you. I’d keep you to myself, too.

“Hm?” Your hum of question breaks through his thoughts.

Ah. Did I say that out loud?

“Toru, what are—” You manage to pull away from him, and you stop when you get a look at his face. His white bangs cover it well, but the hints of crimson underneath make your heart drop. Your hand comes up to push back his hair and–

No. No.

You gasp as you stumble back, the sight of the fresh, barely-bloodied stitches across your lover’s forehead instantly making your blood run cold. You know what they mean. You nearly fall, and Satoru’s hand firmly grasps yours—partially to steady you, but mostly to press a kiss to the pulse-point of your wrist, obsessing over how soft you are. You're breathing heavily now, and you watch in horror as his face splits into a grin, his blue eyes feral.

“My pretty girl,” Kenjaku purrs, and the nickname that always made your heart warm now fills you with bone-chilling fear. Satoru’s touch, his smile, his voice; but not him. “I finally found you.”

You scream.

----

a/n: ugh, sorry, had to write this after having the worst nightmare about it. seriously, my heart was beating so damn fast when i woke up.

#kenjaku #jjk #jjk imagine #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #written by rey <3 #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga #kenjaku jjk

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

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lovecla · 2 months ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter thirteen:

➴ chapter warnings: none!

➴ word count: 2.3k

💌 from me to you: and finally, the last chapter of TYPA. when i started writing this, i had no idea how important (this) quinn and madison would be to me, and i’m really grateful for them. i learned a lot about myself during my time working on this, and although it was painful, it was also healing. i truly hope that this story touched every single one of you like it did to me, and i also hope it helped u to heal from things that weren’t you fault, but you still believed them to be. no one is worth changing for, if that person isn’t ourselves. i love you all and thank you for giving this story so much love ♡

౨ৎ

2024, JULY.

“come, love, make me better than i was.

come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.”

— andrea gibson.

THE ROOM was packed with people making you hold Quinn’s hand tighter.

He chuckles beside you. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Wasn’t expecting the room to be so full,” you mumble, watching as people approached you both, and Quinn introduced you as “his girlfriend”, the title making you smile wider.

“I guess you’re having the same sensation as me whenever I go to your fashion events.”

“Probably, I don’t know,” you shrug, walking beside him and trying to find the table assigned for the two of you plus his family. “The thing is, you guys here work hard. All I do is look pretty.”

“You give yourself too little credit for the good things and too much credit for the bad things,” he smiles sadly, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “If all you did was look pretty, then you wouldn’t have so many people enchanted by you.”

“Hum, actually—”

“Hello, dears,” Ellen greets you when you approach the table, getting up so she could hug you both. “You look gorgeous, Maddie.”

You smile back at her, shyly. You knew this was a gala, but of course it was much simpler than the ones you’re used to, so you chose not to wear anything too fancy— just a simple navy blue, maxi dress with a thigh slit, nothing too expensive since the star of the night was Quinn.

You also chose the color blue because you wanted to match the Canucks logo, apart from the tiny 43 you had on your necklace.

“Thank you, Ellen,” it was still weird for you to call her that way, but after the way she frowned at you the last time you called her Mrs., you knew you had to stop.

“Are you excited, M?” Luke asks you after you sit in the chair beside him.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “And I'm nervous too. I wasn’t expecting this many people. You said it would only be some of the captains.”

“Well, yeah, but just because not every captain will get a speech, it doesn’t mean they can’t come too.” He laughs, mischievously. “You’ll be fine.”

Quinn placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly, just to let you know that he was there, and he wouldn’t let you go.

You smile at him, wondering how you got so lucky. You were surrounded by people that actually loved you, and even if it hurts you to think that your family, the people who shared the same blood as you, didn’t even care enough about you to know if you were happy or not, you were thankful that you could rely on the Hughes.

The dinner turned out to be pretty fun, especially with two comedians like Jack and Luke sitting on your table. Jim was also extraordinarily funny that night, while Quinn and Ellen shared annoyed stares. You couldn’t help but laugh at everything they said, because they somehow grew up to be really funny— sometimes.

Twenty-ish minutes before your time to speak, a staff member came to your table and silently asked you to follow them, after you placed a light kiss on Quinn’s lips and waved to the rest of his family, thanking his "good luck” wishes.

In the backstage, at least fifteen people stood there. Mostly women and old ladies, a few men and two kids. You watched as all of them read the texts they wrote over and over again, and you asked yourself if you should’ve brought the text you wrote with you, even if you knew every word like the back of your hand.

“Mrs. Carter, you’re up next,” someone says, and you nod at them, getting up from your seat and patting your dress.

Surprisingly, as you walked on the stage, while they presented a short video about Quinn’s career, you didn’t feel nervous. The hundreds of eyes on you did nothing to make you want to give up and curl up in a quiet little corner, which was unusual. You were used to big crowds, of course you were, yet you still got nervous here and there. But not feeling anything as you’re about to speak in front of so many people? Yeah, that was new.

The video ended after you stopped in front of the mic, smiling widely as you watched Quinn in the crowd, his blue eyes somehow shining brighter than everything else. You could tell he was anxious, eager to know what you would say, even more because the only person who had read what you’d written had been Victoria, and totally by accident, since you wrote parts of your speech during your breaks on the set.

“Hey, guys,” you say, waving at your crowd, making them laugh softly. “A lot of you probably don’t know who I am, so I’m gonna introduce myself before I start speaking,” you breathe in deeply, adjusting the microphone in front of you. “I’m Madison Carter and I’m a model. But I’m also the person that Quinn Hughes chose to talk about him.”

“I met Quinn when I was eleven and he was thirteen. I was just his annoying neighbor who would spend hours at his house, and make stupid questions about Hockey or anything that I didn’t know. You guys had Google, I had Quinn Hughes,” more laughing. “Once, I even told him he should ask for something cooler for his birthday, because he had told me he’d asked for a stick because he needed it to play and I just thought that was the dumbest thing ever,” people laughed again.

“He quickly became my favorite person in the world, and I’m not even exaggerating. He took care of me until I turned fifteen and he had to move to Michigan so he could go to college, and that basically was the end of our friendship, until I met him again in March, and suddenly, it was almost like the seven years we spent away from each other hadn’t happened at all.”

“Quinn has a way of taking care of everyone around him, and that’s one of the things that make him a great captain. I don’t know much about Hockey, sorry about that by the way, but the one thing I know is that it’s all about teamwork and about caring about your teammates and Quinn is your perfect example of that.

Today I stand here, not as his girlfriend, and not as his friend— but as someone who watches Quinn give the best of himself every single day, asking for nothing in return. As someone who can see right through him, and understand that one thing about Quinn, is that what you see, is what you get.

He’s my number one everyday. He stood up for me in moments that I couldn’t, he gave me his hand whenever I needed it, he often looks at me like he’d give me the world if I asked him to. And it’s a weird thing, this so-called feeling of love. Sometimes I wake up with my chest heavy, and all I need to do to make it go away is look at him.

Because this is who Quinn Hughes is. And I truly hope that everyone, outside or inside of this room, can see him the way I do.”

You could see some people wiping their cheeks, and that made you smile even wider, like you have been doing during your entire speech.

“Quinn, this is for you, and for you only: I love you. Thank you for being who you are, and please, never change. Thank you everyone.”

Some people stood to clap for you as you left the stage, almost running to Quinn’s arms with how much you missed them, even after just a few minutes apart.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, hugging you close as people still clapped for the two of you. “I love you so much, Madison. You’re everything to me.”

You smile at him, feeling your eyes getting wet with tears, as you kiss his lips. His hands immediately found your waist, holding you close to his body, both of you not even caring about being in front of so many people, including his family.

“I love you more,” you tell him, blue eyes matching yours. “Since day one.”

And it was true. Loving Quinn wasn’t something that happened out of nowhere, just because. No. You have loved Quinn ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him, not understanding why a boy who was almost as tall as you, even when he was older, made your heart beat faster.

But now you get it.

Now, you finally get it.

౨ৎ

2027, JUNE.

“QUINN, WHERE the hell are we?”

“Last time we were here you weren’t so dirty mouthed, baby.” You hear his soft laugh beside you, as you carefully walk with your hands holding his arms tightly.

“If I only knew where here is…”

It was June, and it was also your three year anniversary with Quinn and third year living in Vancouver. You had both agreed not to do anything too crazy because in just a few days you’d have to travel for Paris Fashion week, and you needed to rest as much as you could. But Quinn probably forgot about what you had agreed on, because next thing you know, he’s leaving Bella with Mrs. Fernandez, her cat and her son, and dragging you to an airport, getting inside the private jet with you.

You were confused and excited. He hadn’t told you where you were going, neither had the pilots and flight attendants, so you were just following his orders.

But as soon as you landed, a few hours later, he covered your eyes with a blindfold, and helped you get out of the plane and get inside the car.

And now, you’ve arrived, or at least that’s what it seems. He thanked the driver as he opened the car door and took you with him, with you asking questions the entire time, not even caring if you sounded annoying or not.

“Well, it looks like today is your lucky day, sweets,” he chuckled before removing the blindfold from your eyes, making you blink fast as you adjusted your eyes to the daylight.

Your eyes doubled in size as soon as you recognised where you were.

“How… how… oh my God. Quinn, what?” You stutter, not even trusting your own mind.

Because it couldn’t be true that Quinn had brought you to his old house in Toronto.

“I just thought we should come back here to remind ourselves from the beginning,” he shrugs, like this isn’t anything at all, like this is an everyday thing. Like he didn’t rent a jet and flew to his old house just to celebrate your anniversary. “Where it all started.”

Both houses looked the same. Yours and his. Still standing side by side, as you remembered them to be.

You stared at your old house, remembering your days there, and wondering about everything and nothing at the same time. You recalled the day you first saw Quinn, how he talked with you, and how he came back the next day to play with you, which didn’t happen because you both spent hours talking.

“Do you like it?” You hear him asking, and you smile.

“Of course I do,” you sniffled, not even realizing you had started crying. “I’m still in shock because—”

You stop speaking mid-sentence, as you turn your head around to face Quinn, only to find him standing on one knee, with a tiny, velvet box in his hand. Inside it, the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, with the most beautiful and delicate diamond.

“Quinn,” you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand, the tears rolling down your face with ease.

“I know it might be soon, and I’ll understand if this isn’t what you want now,” he smiles, trying to reassure you. “But everyday you prove to me that you’re my forever, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to wake up with you by my side everyday, I want to argue with you about the wet towel on the bed, I want to fuck you every time you decide that inviting me and my team to a Lingerie Fashion Show is a good decision,”

“You liked it, though,” you let out a wet chuckle, watching as he rolls his eyes and nods.

“I guess I did, yes. I also liked punching Conor in the face after he asked me if you did private shows too,” he says, making you laugh between your tears. “I want everything with you, baby. Your bad days, your good days, your I-don’t-want-to-look-at-your-face days, your please-don’t-go-away days. I want to one day be able to call you my wife, and the mother of my kids. So I guess this is my way of asking; Madison Carter, will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife?”

“It’s bold of you to even ask,” you joke. “Of course I will.”

He grins at you, removing the ring from the box and putting it on your finger, the diamond feeling heavy against your skin.

He gets up, picks you up and twirls you around, making you laugh out loud with how happy you are. You kiss his lips fiercely, the taste of salt mixing with his minty taste, your favorite flavor in the entire world.

“You’ll get to be Mrs. Madison Hughes,” he whispers against your lips, and you can swear your heart has never felt fuller. “What do you think about that?”

You chuckle. “I think that’s all I ever wanted. I love you, Quinny.”

“I think we both know I love you more, Maddie.”

“I think that’s up for debate.”

the(ir) end.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #captain quinn #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x model!fmc #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x oc #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey #TYPA

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sillylilreader · 7 months ago

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do you suppose we could have a oneshot of Iida running into an old friend who goes to a different school and introducing them to his friends? the surprising part is how different he and the reader are, but they get along so well (bonus if the reader has tattoos)

please, and thank you 🙏🏽

omg ofc id love to write this

not sure if you wanted it to be romantic or not so i made them friends :3

pls forgive me if iida's ooc, ill try my best

Class 3A, recently graduated, in their rambunctious entirety, were spending the day grouped together at the mall. As per usual, Tenya Iida found himself keeping the group together and organized. Between Kaminari and Mina, he found himself with a handful of trouble.

Iida followed the group of twenty, closely behind. Being sure to keep an eye on each of them. He was prepared for a long day, sure, but what he wasn't prepared for was your bright smile blinding him all the way from the food court.

Iida found his gaze drug to you as if naturally, and when your gaze met, your eyes lit up to match your smile.

"Ten!!" you yelled, across the mall, rushing to meet your friend. Iida was grateful to meet your embrace, taking in your new aesthetic. Sure, you were bright and airy inside, but on the outside you looked hardened, with your piercings and tatted up sleeves.

You couldn't help but feel subconscious under his watchful gaze. He seemed to take in every part of your being, picking it apart in seconds.

Finally, he spoke your name, in a quiet whisper, before quickly matching your energy. "It is wonderful to see you! It has been ages since our last meeting!"

Iida clapped his hands together, excitement making it's way through his body. He quickly began asking questions about your tattoos and their meanings, alongside the age of your piercings and their healing process.

All the while, the remainder of class 3A stared the two of you down, muttering amongst themselves.

"Who are they?"

"Why is he so excited?"

"They're so different from each other!"

It wasn't long before Iida turned around to introduce you to the group, explaining the background between the two of you.

You had met during primary school, being close friends all up till high school. Your quirk was lack luster, meaning you had no chance of getting into UA. Not that that was necessarily your calling.

Kaminari was the first to say anything, speaking what they all thought, "How did you two ever get along?" He was met with a slap to the bag of the head by Kirishima, who was muttering something about your manliness, and bravery for having such strength to endure all the piercings and tattoos.

You simply laughed it off, "Oh, you know a nerd like Iida would need a protector!"

Iida's face flushed as he raised his arms in a crossing motion, as if making an X with his body. "I could handle myself perfectly well! And I was no such nerd,"

This was met by giggles amongst the group.

After more questions, and some jokes amongst the lot, you found yourself spending the day with them on their outing.

"You know, Im glad you accompanied us today. It's nice seeing you all grown up." Iida found himself muttering to you, from the back of the group.

You nodded excitedly, "Let's do it again, yeah?"

SORRY ITS SHORT IDK HOW TO WRITE IIDA AT ALL AND ALSO WASNT SURE WHERE TO TAKE IT HAPPY TO KEEP IT GOING IF YOU WANT IT JUST LMK

#bnha fluff #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha fluff #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero acadamy #tenya iida #iida tenya #tenya iida x reader #mha tenya #bnha tenya #tenya lida

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tikosblogg · 5 months ago

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The Scars We Bare….❤️

Summary: After a traumatic accident leaving your body scarred for life, Noah makes it his mission to remind you of your worth.

Warning: piv sex, unprotected sex(don’t do that), slight choking. Body worship?, mentions of blood, fighting. Let me know if I forgot anything.

A/N: This is a little heavier than I usually write about, but I thought it was so sweet. I’m sorry if it’s trash, I wrote this while watching Summer slam🤪

The energy inside our house was insane, the house pulsing with the music and the laughter of friends. the ambiance was alive—a perfect backdrop to celebrate the end of their successful tour. I had always been the glue that held this ragtag bunch together. Growing up alongside Noah, and the guys meant our lives were intertwined in a way that made this party feel like a reunion of sorts, no matter how long we’ve lived together or how often we saw each other while they are on the road.

As I mingled among partygoers, I felt an undeniable sense of pride for these guys who had worked so hard, now basking in the glow of their accomplishments. But tonight wasn’t just about them; it was about me too. I had hopes of taking my relationship with Brent to the next level.

Brent is the first relationship I’ve had since my accident 4 years ago. We have been seeing one another for about a month, and in my gut, I felt tonight could be the night we solidified what we both wanted. Nobody has seen my body since that traumatic day, except for Noah. My family lives out of state, so as soon as I was released from the hospital Noah moved me in here.

He was my rock during the whole ordeal and helped me heal. Our friendship is a special one, that I hold dearly in my heart. He bathed me, cooked for me, cleaned the cuts and incisions on my body everyday. He was the shoulder I cried on, about my insecurities of my forever changed body. Always reminding me that I was beautiful. He has helped more than I think he realizes.

Excusing myself from a lively conversation with Noah and Jolly, I slipped outside to check on Brent. The cool air hit my skin, refreshing yet a little uneasy. I dialed his number, only to be met with an annoyance I couldn’t quite place. "I've been here for the past 45 minutes," he huffed, the edge in his voice making me flinch.

My stomach twisted as he gave me his location. I ended the call, worry gnawing at the edges of my mind. What had gone wrong? He’s never sounded so annoyed with me. I shook it off and decided to find him, determined not to let it ruin our night.

When I finally spotted him, leaning against the wall of the house with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face, my heart sank. Why did he look so displeased? I swept in for a hug, wrapping my arms around his body, hoping to draw out a little warmth. He hesitated for just a moment before returning the embrace, but the spark I had anticipated was absent.

"Hey! Glad you made it," I chirped, forcing a smile even as a twinge of frustration bubbled within me. He didn't reply, only allowed me to grab his hand and lead him inside.

As we entered, I could feel the vibrant energy shift slightly. The laughter and chatter continued, but the warmth of the party felt overshadowed by the tension emanating from Brent. I introduced him to the guys Noah, Jolly, Folio, and Nick—all of whom were mingling and laughing, filling the air with their unique energy. However, I noticed something peculiar: the way the guys eyed Brent, especially Noah. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, the kind that screamed, I’m onto you.

Ignoring the unspoken judgment from my friends, I pulled Brent closer, trying to ignite that spark between us. We stood there, surrounded by music and laughter, yet he seemed distant, his smile faltering as the guys began to chatter amongst themselves.

“Everything alright?” I whispered, leaning closer to him. I wanted an opening, a doorway into whatever was bothering him. But he merely shrugged, his gaze wandering, refusing to engage. I softly grasped Brent’s hand, politely excusing us from the group. I led him through the crowd of party goers, and up the stairs to my room.

As I closed the door behind us, the thumping bass of the party dwindled into a distant murmur, the laughter of friends fading away as I turned to Brent. The vibrant energy of the gathering felt worlds away, and the four walls of my bedroom suddenly wrapped around us like a protective barrier.

“Brent,” I started, my voice wavering slightly. “I’m really sorry if I overwhelmed you back there. I just wanted you to meet my friends. They’re like family to me.” I stepped closer, finding comfort in the small space between us. “I like how you’re different from everyone else,” I reassured him, reaching to cup his face. “I want you with me, Brent. I really like you, and I was hoping tonight could be something more.”

At last, he looked up, a smirk playing on his lips as he wasted no more time, and leaned in and captured my mouth with his. The kiss ignited something deep inside me; I melted into him, the world beyond my bedroom eclipsed in a frenzy of sensation. But then, as he pushed me down onto the bed, his body pressing into mine, I felt a rush of vulnerability sweep over me.

His lips were a warm trail, moving from my mouth and down the length of my neck. Nervousness coiled in my stomach, mingling with the thrill of it all. What if he hates the scars? But I shushed that voice; if Brent liked me, he would accept all of me, flaws and histories included.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes dark with desire, he removed his shirt, revealing his toned body. I felt my pulse quicken. The intimacy of the moment escalated as he reached for mine. But then, as the fabric glided off my skin, a sudden silence enveloped us. Brent froze, his expression shifting from desire to something unreadable as his eyes traced the long scar running down my chest, then mapping the smaller scars scattered along my ribs and stomach.

“Are you okay?” I paused, my heart pounding painfully against my rib cage as I reached up, uncertain and vulnerable.

The moment hung heavy in the air; he shook his head vehemently, climbing off me so quickly that the sudden loss of his warmth sent a chill racing down my spine. I sat up, confusion flooding my senses. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Brent stood there, the remnants of our intimacy dissolving between us. He tugged his shirt back on, the fabric crumpling around his torso, and ran a hand through his hair, the gesture laced with frustration. “Why do you have scars all over you?” His voice was low, a mix of concern and discomfort.

As the words spilled from my lips, the weight of the memory resurfaced. “I was in a bad car crash four years ago. I had to have open heart surgery,” I explained, trying to keep my tone steady. I watched the color drain from his face, his brows knitting together in discomfort.

A long sigh escaped him, heavy and laden with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s...bad. I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as if trying to clear it.

“It makes me feel… kind of squeamish to touch them” he admitted, his eyes glancing away, avoiding the testament of my past etched upon my skin.

My heart plummeted, the weight of rejection crashing down upon me like a tidal wave. I had let the hope and excitement build, only for it to crumble in an instant under the realization that my trauma had repelled him.

“I think we should just end it here. sorry,” he added, almost mechanically, before turning to leave the room. The sound of the party resumed its vibrancy, a stark reminder of the dissonance between our worlds.

I watched him walk out, feeling an emptiness settle into my chest. The door slammed behind him, and I sank back into the bed, wrapping my arms around myself as if trying to shield those scars from the world. Noah, My friends, my family—they had embraced me, scars and all. Why couldn’t Brent?

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. My thoughts spiraled, wondering if my scars were always going to be a barrier, a reminder of a past I couldn’t erase. The party continued downstairs, but all I felt was the silence of my room enveloping me, a somber echo of what had just transpired.

I finally stood from my bed, my body shaking with each sob leaving my mouth. I walked straight into my bathroom, insistent on washing his touch, and this night from my tattered body.

Noah stood with Jolly and Nick, their voices a distant murmur, but his attention had drifted. His eyes were locked on the staircase that you’d just walked up with Brent. There was something about Brent—a way he carried himself, a cocky swagger that made his skin crawl. He didn’t like the guy, not one bit.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah’s unease was proven justified. Brent stomped down the stairs, his expression unfazed and arrogant. He brushed past Noah and the others, heading straight for the kitchen. Noah tilted his head, a knot tightening in his stomach. Where were you? He silently decided to confront Brent.

As he stepped into the kitchen, Noah maneuvered himself silently, standing a few steps behind Brent’s shorter stature. He was leaning against the counter, deep in conversation with some random dude whose name Noah didn’t care to know. Eavesdropping came naturally to him; he would justify anything if it meant looking out for you.

His heart raced when Brent’s laughter cut through the air. “Yeah, I was about to get laid,” he sneered, “until I saw her mangled scars. who the fuck would want to touch that?”

The breath in Noah’s lungs turned hot and escaped his body, choking him as Brent's words sank in. His fists clenched tightly, and he felt the world around him shatter. He could almost hear your voice, the way you’d always brushed off your past with a smile, how brave you were in the face of your demons. But Brent—he had the audacity to belittle you. That was it. Brent had fucked up.

Suddenly, the current conversation shifted; the guy noticed Noah standing there, confusion flickering across his face. It alerted Brent, and he turned around, the mocking grin fading as he saw the fury etched on Noah’s features.

“What’s your problem, man?” Brent started, but Noah didn’t give him a chance to finish. With swift motion, Noah reared back and swung, his fist connecting hard with Brent’s face. The impact sent Brent flying backward, crashing against the counter, glass bottles tumbling to the ground in a cacophony of shattering chaos.

Loud gasps erupted from the partygoers outside the kitchen, a wave of shock sweeping through the crowd. Brent scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his lip, rage igniting his eyes. But it was too late to back down. Noah launched himself at Brent, tackling him to the ground, a flurry of punches raining down on him, fueled by the anger and pain he felt for you.

“Get off me, you psycho!” Brent shouted, trying to push Noah away. The struggle was chaotic, a whirlwind of flailing limbs and outrage. Just as Noah readied another blow, Jolly charged in, pulling Noah back with surprising strength.

“Noah, stop!” Jolly shouted, his grip firm as he held Noah at bay. “What happened!”

Noah was seething, panting heavily as he glared down at Brent, who was trying to push himself back up, shaking with anger and disbelief. “Get the fuck out of my house,” Noah growled, his voice low and menacing.

Brent’s eyes widened, the cockiness draining from his face. He looked around, seeing the eyes of the few witnesses, the trepidation in Jolly’s grip, and the fire behind Noah’s glare.

With a rage still shimmering in his veins, Brent muttered something under his breath, stumbling out of the kitchen and pushing past a few confused guests. As the tension dissipated, the music seemed to swell once again, an unsettling backdrop to the upheaval that had just occurred.

Noah, freed from Jolly’s hold, took a moment to catch his breath, the adrenaline of the fight slowly beginning to wane, replaced by a deep concern for you. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of the scene he just created; all he could think of was you and how he could protect you from people like Brent. The real battle would be making sure you knew how much you were worth, scars and all.

The steam curled and twisted upwards like tendrils of a ghost, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and moisture, yet I felt anything but comforted. My sobs echoed against the bathroom tiles, reverberating with the music of the party that throbbed beneath me. Laughter and music pulsed through the floorboards, but they were alien sounds in this moment, distant and muffled, a reminder of a world I felt unfit to join.

With trembling hands, I wiped my tears away, attempting to compose myself. “Y/n?” A soft voice echoed through the bathroom, as my breath hitched. “I’m fine,” I called out weakly, trying to sound more convincing than I felt, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me. Just as I braced for another wave of tears, the shower door opened and Noah stepped in.

his clothes still on, clinging to him like a second skin. His arms wrapped around me, and I melted against him, the warmth radiating from his body bringing some semblance of solace. I could feel the steady beat of his heart through the fabric of his shirt. The gentle thump soothed me as I softly cried into his chest, his hand combing through my damp hair, as if he could weave away my pain with each passing stroke.

It took a moment to gather my composure, but when I finally pulled back to look at him, I noticed the water swirling around our feet, tinted a soft pink. Panic flared within me as I glanced down at his hands, noticing the cuts marring his knuckles. “Noah, what happened?” My heart raced at the thought of him getting hurt.

His response was almost too casual, a hint of bravado underneath the weight of his words. “I beat Brent’s fucking ass.” The smile that flickered onto my face was unexpected, born from a blend of relief and admiration. I laid my forehead against him, the warmth of his body a protective barrier against the world below.

Noah was gentle, taking the shampoo from the rack and lathering it into my hair, his fingertips pressing against my scalp in a way that felt simultaneously tender and powerful. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, letting him wash away not just the remnants of the night, but the anguish that had been clawing at my heart.

He grabbed my loofah, and bodywash, bathing me next. Sending me back 4 years ago, when he did this for me everyday. Once the water turned off, he wrapped a towel around me, the fabric covering me in warmth as he stripped off his wet clothes, every inch of my cheeks heating more at the sight. He returned, focused, practical, and somehow that made my heart swell. Lifting me effortlessly onto the counter, he took the cotton pad and my makeup remover, carefully cleaning away the smudged remnants of the night while stealing glances at me, gauging my reactions.

The simplicity of his gestures, the kindness radiating from each one, made my insides flutter. He was mending not just the mess on my face but the turmoil inside me too. When he disappeared momentarily and returned with one of his old t-shirts and a pair of my underwear, I felt a warmth. He pressed the towel into my skin, drying me off with an intense focus that made me feel seen, cherished.

He pulled the tshirt over my head, before slipping my underwear up my legs. I carefully lifted my hips from the counter, so he could pull them up over my hips. The deep scary feelings I’ve tried to bury for the past few years, slowly making their appearance.

Once I was dressed, he took my hairbrush and began to detangle my hair with the ease, each stroke a reminder of how he understood me, how he always knew how to take care of me when the world felt too heavy. I watched him in the mirror—his brow furrowed with concentration, his lips pressed together in determination.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice softer than the droplets of water still clinging to the tiles. He met my gaze, kindness dancing in his eyes.

“No need,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “I’ll always be here for you.” The thudding of my heart, beat wildly against my chest. Our eyes stuck in a heated stare down, waiting to see which of caved first. His hand slowly lifted to cup my cheek. His thumb softly rubbed against my cheek, as he leaned in the tiniest bit closer.

“Noah..” I breathed, my voice just above a whisper. The uncertainty that once filled his brown eyes, were now gone. Filled with a darkness, that I was more than ready to fall into. His lips finally connected to mine in a simple kiss. Almost as if testing the waters.

He pulled away for only a moment, before his other hand slob into my hair, pulling me in for another kiss. He didn’t hold back, as he squeezed himself between my thighs, attacking my lips with so much force. His tongue entered my mouth, as he groaned at the taste of me.

I whimpered against his lips, wanting, needing more of him. He pulled away again, resting his forehead against mine as we both panted. “I love you so fucking much y/n, and I’m tired of fighting it.” He shook his head, before pecking my lips again.

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his naked waist pulling him flush against me. “I love you too Noah.” I smiled softly up at him. He grabbed my thighs, wrapping them around him, before lifting me off the counter, and walking us over the threshold back into my room.

He softly dropped me onto the bed, as grabbed him hand pulling him on top of me. I grabbed the towel still wrapped around him, and pulled it loose. He smirked down at me, before reaching up and pushing my hair off my face. “Are you sure about this?”

My eyes flew back up to his before I nodded my head. “I’m positive Noah….please.” Without another word, he leaned down catching my lips into another kiss. As he kissed me, his hand trailed up my thigh, pushing it back and spreading me open.

His tongue slid in my mouth, as his fingers carefully moved my panties over before sinking two of them into me. I moaned against his mouth, as he pulled away smiling. “You sound so pretty baby.” His voice was low, and rough. I whimpered, as I softly bucked my hips into it.

After a few more thrusts he pulled his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth pulling them out with a groan. “And you taste even better.” He lifted himself off of me, grabbing the hem of my shirt.

He slowly pulled it off as I laid underneath him, a rush of warmth and trepidation surging through me. The lamp light in my room, casted a golden hue on everything in the room. It felt as if the world outside had ceased to exist—a serene bubble where only the two of us resided.

Even though Noah had seen my scars a million times before, an insidious wave of insecurity washed over me. As his gaze drifted over the pink lines that traced my skin, I couldn’t help but hold my breath.

A shaky exhale escaped my lips, a reflection of my nerves. Noah, always attuned to my feelings, noticed immediately. His eyes softened, filled with a understanding that spoke volumes. He leaned down, and before I could fully process what was happening, I felt the warmth of his tongue glide along the long scar that ran down my chest between my breasts. An unexpected jolt of pleasure coursed through me, mingled with vulnerability.

He continued his descent, his lips softly placing tender kisses upon each of my scars. With every touch, he seemed to dissolve the doubts that gnawed at the edges of my mind. I could feel each light brush of his lips, each gentle kiss, healing parts of me I thought were beyond repair.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against my skin, his voice barely above a breath. The words lingered in the air, wrapping around my heart like a soothing balm. It surprised me how true they felt, even after what happened tonight. He looked up, deep into my eyes, his sincerity gleaming like a beacon in the dim lighting.

My pulse raced, and from deep within me, the knots of self-doubt began to unravel. Noah had a way of making me feel seen, as if he could peer into my soul and appreciate every scar etched into it. Each imperfection, every faint line was an emblem of survival, milestones of resilience—but in that moment, they felt less like burdens and more like beautiful parts of my story.

He returned to my lips, kissing me softly, allowing the heat and intimacy of our connection to wash over us. I melted into him, giving in to the moment, and for the first time, I felt as if I could shed my insecurities, if only for a while.

He grabbed the sides of my underwear, pulling them off. He laid back onto me before kissing me hotly, and taking no time to slowly push into me. I gasped, digging my nails into his back at the burning stretch. He grabbed my jaw softly bringing my eyes to his. “Are you okay baby?”

I nodded, lifting my head to kiss his lips. I softly bit on his bottom lip, pulling on it softly. He grunted, as his hips roughly snapped against mine. “Please Noah…” I whined, pulling him into me. He lifted up, caging my head in between his arms. He stared down at me, as he pounded into me mercilessly.

“Fuck baby you feel so good” he groaned, above me. The pleasure on his face made me feral. I dug my heel into the mattress, using all my force to flip our bodies over. His eyes widened in shock, as huge grin formed on his lips. “Fuck baby, you gonna ride me?” He almost whimpered.

My pussy throbbed at his words. Having my big tatted mainly best friend whimpering underneath was not something I ever imagined, but am so fucking lucky to experience. I leaned down, trailing kisses down his throat while he groaned. I leaned back up, grabbing his dick, and hovering back over it.

We both let out low groans, as I sank back down. “Fuck Noah you’re so big.” I whined, slowly rocking my hips back forth. “Yeah?” He breathed, gripping my hips tightly. I nodded my head, placing my hands against his chest.

He groaned at my sluggish pace, as I smirked down at him, enjoying my teasing game. After a few minutes, he was done with my teasing. His hand shot up, wrapping around my throat. He pulled me down until our noses were touching, as a cocky smile made its way to his face.

“You really thought I was gonna let you take control?” He growled, brushing his lips against mine. “I-..” my sentence was cut short, as his hips fucked up into me hard and fast. My nails dug into his chest, gripping on for dear life.

His fingers tightened around my throat as he finally connected our lips into a sloppy kiss. Lips, tongues, and teeth clashing. He pushed me back, making me sit up straight on top of him. He reached up, shoving two fingers in my mouth, as I moaned around them, sucking on them hard.

He slowly slid them out, running them down my throat, down my chest and stopping to squeeze my tit. “C’mon baby. You gonna cum for me?” He panted, continuing his decent until his fingers reached my swollen clit.

I threw my head back with a moan, in love with how he was making me feel. I leaned back, placing my hands right above his knees behind me, as I continued riding him. “Fuuuuck…” I groaned as his fingers sped up.

I felt my orgasm rising with each thrust of his hips, and stroke of his fingers. “I’m gonna cum.” I whined, looking down at him. The sight was beautiful. His brows were furrowed, and his lips were parted, as he released ragged breaths.

“C’mon baby give it to me. Cum on my dick.” He groaned finally looking up at me. As soon as we made eye contact, my orgasm shook my body. “Good fucking girl.” He grunted, as he fucked me through it. I huffed, falling onto his chest as thrusted a few more times finally releasing into me with a groan.

We laid there for what felt like hours, catching our breaths just holding each other. He placed a kiss on top of my head, before gently pushing me off onto the bed beside him. He reached down grabbing the towel he wore earlier, and cleaned us off.

Once we were clean he grabbed my comforter, pulling it over us. He pulled me into his arms, as I snuggled deep into his chest. “I love you so much y/n. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. I will spend every minute proving that to you from now on. Please don’t let some dick head make you think differently.”

I felt my eyes well up with tears again, as I placed a gentle kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love you.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sabastian smut #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band #bad omens smut #nick folio #joakim jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo

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spencer-sweets · 5 months ago

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House MD Fic Recs | House/Wilson

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so... my first foray into this fandom after passively watching clips of it on youtube growing up. finally got around to watching it even though i have spoiled myself with all of the fan content i consumed before even finishing season 1. this is just some of my favorite fics i have compiled here. :) hope yall feel old knowing this show is older than me - and i can vote.

I'd Make A Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 11,357 Summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband.

as someone who has a very complicated relationship with religion, this fic warmed my heart. the devotion from house in this fic to be able to put aside his own feelings towards religion in the small chance that he really does owe wilson's life to a higher power blew me away.

Riddle Me by magie_05 (LJ) R (I would say Teen+) 12,300 House loves puzzles. Wilson…doesn’t. When House starts asking his friend seemingly pointless questions that get progressively more confusing, Wilson’s left to wonder what (if anything) it means.

i loved the way they communicated in this fic and it was fun to try to figure out the riddles with wilson

fifteen minutes by eating_custardinbed (ao3) Mature 11,907 When James Wilson came to work this morning, he was expecting a normal day. That is, he has been expecting to tell a few people they were dying, getting bullied into buying his grumpy best friend lunch, maybe flirting with the new nurse in radiology to make him feel just a little better about his third divorce. What he has not been expecting is to be locked in his office with a madman, staring down the barrel of a gun. or, wilson gets shot and locked in his office. he and house have a conversation

oh, my beloved trope of one character thinking the other is about to die but not wanting to show how scared they are. hurt/comfort and wilson is hurt - right up my alley.

Defensive Strategies by m_butterfly (Wayback) NC-17 (Explicit) 14398 In which Wilson has a problem, House has a cunning plan, girls hunt in packs, chocolate cake has unexpected dangers, furniture is unintentionally ordered, several conversations occur, and dinner is repeatedly served.

this was a cute getting together fic that was funny and heavily recommended back in the say - at least from my sleuthing.

House-opathy Series: Diagnosis: Wilson, Patient Write Up: Cameron, Chase Foreman, Treatment: House by Commodoresexual (LJ) PG13 (Teen+) 14498 Wilson gets more than he bargained for when he lets the ducklings diagnose him - Cameron, Chase and Foreman delve into the healing process for Wilson - You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

these were cute fics that were admittedly written prior to my conception. i enjoyed reading them - it follows the ducklings as they diagnose wilson with being in love with house and how the two get together.

Lost Causes by Eos (Wayback) PG13 (Teen+) 17164 An unguarded comment from Wilson proves to be quite unsettling for House's state of mind. Has three sequels, Same as It Ever Was, Reverse Psychology, and Foolish Hearts

this fic is older than me by almost half a month... that being said it can only be found in the deep recesses of the wayback machine. i enjoyed this fic and its sequels when i read them - it is mostly house coming to terms with his feelings for wilson following an accident in the first fic

Things That Go Bump by peg22 (ao3) Explicit 18,381 Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them. This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace. "Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."

was actually reminded of this fic while digging through the recesses of old livejournal fic recs for house. i thought "hey wait.. wasn't that also on ao3?" it is! which saves you all the formatting of chapters that aren't linked and are spread across the original livejournal page it was uploaded on. but this fic is sweet and is a hurt/comfort nightmare fic done well. very dialogue heavy but very much in character.

R.I.C.E in Reverse by Phate Pheonix (FF.Net) Teen+ 22,000 An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson had discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.

i remember this fic being longer than it was but i also remember really enjoying this fic. cuddy is a bit of a bitch in this but i don't find it to be bashing or anything - they (house & cuddy) are the same as they are in the show they just don't end up together like they do in the episode this is based on. also wilson coming to terms with his feelings for house. the writing is great and feels like it could be out of an episode of house.

buy some time, it's on my dime by ORiley42 (ao3) Explicit 27,034 Well, this took a longer time to write than I expected! Probably because it's five times longer than I intended lmao Wanted to try my hand at something more AU-ish. Though, because House is an ornery bastard and won’t do what I say at all, the setting is still broadly the same. The main difference being that House and Wilson have never met… I’d say this has season 1 vibes, but no actual timeline or plot refs. Also, AU idea sparked by I57371’s lovely “Phoning It In.” Also-also, title from "Nothing New" by Fly By Midnight.

this is not the only time you will see this author on this list - for good reason. i'm traditionally not one for au's or for strangers to lovers fics... but this one pulled it off. very smutty but the plot is still fun.

Witness, Witness by SkyeBean (ao3) Teen+ 29,111 It was past midnight when Wilson arrived, and House’s team had all left hours before. Cameron was the last to go, shooting House a pitying look as she pulled her coat on, but House had ignored her. A Wilson who’s been dating House for years doesn’t work at Princeton-Plainsboro. It takes House’s team years to find out that their boss is dating someone, let alone who, but they see more of the relationship than they know.

cute! what-if house and wilson did not work together but were together prior to season one. its a fun secret relationship fic.

Something to Prove by orphan_account (ao3) Teen+ 30,700 When House suddenly wants to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he'd held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

if you don't like angst this one isn't for you. house is kind of a massive dick in this one and spends the rest of the fic trying to make it up to wilson and win him over. has sequels that i did not read.

little glass vial by SupposedToBeWriting (ao3) Mature 39,093 House and Wilson have a peculiar friendship - though if you asked Wilson, sleeping together once while one man was reeling from a traumatic surgery slash breakup and the other was in a failing marriage isn't all that unusual between friends. They manage to make it work, mostly by never bringing it up again. While out, a patient's grieving brother approaches Wilson and injects him with an unknown compound. Wilson is rushed to the hospital. Though initially fine, he begins to exhibit strange and deadly symptoms. House is swept into a case that he cannot emotionally distance himself from, with a patient that he has exceptionally complex feelings for. Wilson clings to life as House hits brick wall after brick wall, desperate to save the one person he can't lose.

hurt/comfort with sick!wilson. Its also a case fic with a race against time that i enjoyed.

A Patient's Guide to Living with ICS by ORiley42 Explicit 40,071 House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference. Read on for goofy acronyms, endless banter, horny middle-aged men, and more!

smutty work conference + friends with benefits to lovers fic. also!!! this author is generally just great with house fics.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz (ao3) Explicit 55,649 Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.")

its on everyone's rec list - i know. but this is my rec list and i enjoyed it so its going on here. marriage of convenience trope my beloved. it has a sequel that everyone says is great but i haven't gotten around to it... yet.

Gaseous Nebula by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 77,372 After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving one of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answers. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

another hurt/comfort fic that i absolutely adored. also, the second time this author is on the list! god i enjoyed reading this one - it had me on the edge of my seat despite how fantastical it is sometimes. felt like quality television surrealism with how bizarre some of the coincidences are but it tied everything together and had a happy ending.

there is a sequel but I have never read it and it is incomplete.

either love is a shrine (or else, a scar) by jamesevanwilson (ao3) Mature 79,985 House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler. Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

fake marriage in order to get money from house's dads will with a heafty dose of miscommunication and mutual pining between these morons.

It Will Find You in the End by junkyard_angel Mature 146,954 Gregory House is a misanthropic bastard with trust issues, who doesn't do feelings. But he's pretty sure he's in love -- or lust -- or something anyway -- with his best friend. Life is funny, in a not-funny way. *UPDATE* -- Here's a link to the Spotify playlist of all songs referenced in this fic to date. Happy reading/listening! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76B4n4UUncNYJG8scmKqVc?si=e5cd5de147924fb5 Thanks as always for reading, and feedback and comments are welcomed.

god this fic was long (not that thats a bad thing). they finally get together but then they also break up and then get back together so if angst isn't your cup of tea...

Here is a link to a great fic on ao3 with links to old house fic recs https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826263

I will update this as I read more/comb back through the LJ and FF.net archives that I slouthed through. I didn't keep track of most of those before i decided to make this list :/ sorry

originally posted 8/13/2024

#house md #hilson #house/wilson #hate crimes md #fic rec #gregory house #james wilson

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 11 months ago

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Wingspan

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Minors denied. Don't want me to write the list of all shameful things I wrote under the cut

Because I've spent whole week with sick 2 years old child, managed to get sick as well and I'm deprived of Azriel because last two months I'm writing only Heal me and as soon as he appeared on scene, this invaded my mind.. Honestly too many reasons to write something silly ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

"Okay, guys. You know why we are here," I started. "At first I'd like to thank you that you voluntarily signed up as subjects for this research."

"We compare our pricks whole life. It's our pleasure that somebody finally took it seriously and wants to write a whole book about it," Cassian teased, laughing hard.

Rhysand was trying really hard to keep a straight face the whole time, but after Cassian's comment he was about to lose it, and Azriel standing in the dark corner rather disappeared in his shadows after this comment.

How did I even get into this situation? Well, I knew how. It all happened because I was a passionate researcher. Too passionate for my own good.

It all started with mated Archeron sisters and Mor who wouldn't stop debating about this thing of a correlation of wingspan with the size of Illyrian male's private parts. It picked up my interest and I searched the entire library to find out more info about it. Utterly failing in the process, there wasn't a single mention. There wasn't even a proper documentation of their wings alone. So I took it upon myself to collect necessary data to confirm or deny truth of this rumour. I briefly mentioned it to Rhys hoping he could help me find enough subjects for the research. Which he did in surprisingly short time. And as if it wasn't enough he and his brothers signed up, too.

"That part I will leave to you. I hope I can count on you to deliver accurate numbers. If you try to cheat I'll have your mates to do it properly," I laughed, but I meant every single word.

"I'm sure Nes would be all for it," Cassian grinned proudly.

"As if Feyre wouldn't," Rhysand lost it. I had to laugh. I was afraid it would turn into something awkward, but with these two it was impossible. They were like kids, turning everything into a funny game.

I met Rhysand under the mountain. He witnessed the moment my ex betrayed me and when Feyre saved us all, he picked up my remains and brought me to Velaris to heal. In the end I decided to stay here. I buried love, lust and everything related to it as deep as possible and focussed on what I liked - research - occasionally helping inner circle.

"At least they certainly won't cheat," I smiled. "This research origins in their concern after all."

The three of us laughed so hard we cried. Only Azriel stayed silent hidden in his corner.

"And who will make sure Azriel doesn't cheat?" Cassian wondered.

"Why should I," Azriel stepped out from his hideaway, lowering a challenging gaze at me.

"I believe Azriel is the last one of three of you to use such dirty tricks to manipulate the results," I said, returning his gaze. "But if he does, I'll personally make sure he delivers true data."

His hazel eyes lit up with mischief and corners of his full lips slightly moved upward in a hardly there smirk. He wasn't so different from his brothers. More serious than these two? Certainly, but he could be playful, too.

"Okay, guys, let's get it done. Who is the first to show off the wingspan?"

This was the part I'd been looking forward the most. Illyrian wings, the most important subject of my research and to be honest, the main reason of this fuss. So sacred that sometimes even their lovers weren't allowed to touch them. Not that I could touch them by any mean. Boys only granted me to take measurements and a close look to make detailed sketches. Totally understandable given how sensitive they were.

All three of them took turns one in a time, helping me when my arms were too short. I took measurements of different parts of their bodies, too, just to be sure I have all I could possibly need to get accurate results. I wrote down numbers into my notebook, already amazed by the results.

"That's all for today. Thank you for your time. When can I expect the other data?"

"You can get them even right now, if you want, but I guess you don't want to see it, do you?" Cassian, always such a tease. I shook my head laughing.

"Would tomorrow morning be a soon enough for you?" Rhysand purred, flashing a smile. "Tonight we're going to have a lot of fun with Feyre."

"It would be perfect," I agreed. The sooner I was done here, the sooner I could go to camps to collect data from volunteers Rhysand had found for me.

Cassian and Rhysand left soon after, but ever-silent Azriel stayed behind.

He seemed to be so flustered and nervous while I was taking his measurements. Cassian was picking on him for that, but Azriel stoically ignored him and held still. It seemed he didn't even breathe. I knew he didn't like to be touched. It was the biggest of the surprises that he voluntarily signed up for this, so I was extra careful with him.

Ever since I met him, he was always very kind and considerate to me. However it took some time until he opened up. It's just few months since we started to hang out more. Not that I wouldn't like him. If I were honest, I would admit that he was very interesting person, I liked him a lot and he was so incredibly handsome. Too handsome to be real.

But that's exactly the way I wasn't suppose to think about him. I'm the type who falls easily and hard, and loves with all her being. That's why I was so devastated last time. Nobody could possibly love somebody like me. I'm unbearable in many ways.

Plus he is too high league for somebody like me. He can have anybody he wants and the line of prospects is long. Elain and Gwyn for example compete for his attention for years. Successfully. There's no way he would think of me that way. I shook my head to get rid of these self harming thoughts.

Turning I smiled at him encouragingly. Azriel cleared his throat, wings rustled behind his back. He did this often when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"The camps.. are you planning to go there alone?" His deep voice always did this strange thing with my insides. And today was no different. I pushed the feeling aside, to the box of things I shouldn't think about and shut it closed.

"No, I believe last time Rhysand mentioned something about sending an escort. Mor is going with me, too."

"Okay," he nodded. His one word responses the were death of me. It was so hard to keep conversation going.

"Uhm.. So tomorrow? You don't have to hurry if it's inconvenient for you."

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Oh.. So.. uhm.. I'll see you tomorrow." Shadowsinger just nodded looking down at me a little longer than necessary and then finally he turned and left. I let out a long breath.

Next day Rhys came as the first one as soon as I entered my office. I guess he couldn't wait. Cassian stopped by as soon as the training with priestesses was over. I checked their results with their mates during the lunch break just to be sure the numbers are correct.

It was almost evening and Azriel was nowhere to be seen. I packed some of the stuff I needed to take to camps and took a look around. There was nothing else to keep me occupied, so I decided it's time to go home. I was about to open the door when a knock sounded. It was Azriel.

"You came," I greeted him with smile.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. I was-"

"It's okay," I interrupted him. "You really don't need to apologise. I'm grateful you signed up for this."

He made a small noise and handed me a piece of folded paper. I took it and returned to my desk where I left the notebook with all data.

"Were you going to go home already?" he asked while I unfolded the paper.

"Yeah, you came just in time. One minute later and I would be gone." I looked at the number and froze. No way, this was certainly wrong. I compared it to the other numbers. Definitely wrong.

"Something's wrong?" he stepped closer, peeking down on me.

"What?" I was so immersed in my thoughts I didn't hear him. "Excuse me," I said boldly and reached for his crotch. Just to make things clear, I wasn't completely myself, otherwise I wouldn't dare to even think about doing so. In that very moment I was simply researcher and nothing else.

Azriel sharply inhaled, eyes widened, but he held still, blushing heavily.

"As I thought," I mumbled to myself releasing him. "Sweetheart, you were supposed to measure yourself when you are.. You know.. 'excited'. I really didn't think you would try to sabotage the research," I tried to joke to lighten his embarrassment. "With your .. equipment.. there's no reason for you to lose. I thought you are quite competitive."

He just silently looked to the side while the shadows danced around him as if trying to hide him.

"Or did you want me to help you with it?" I smiled teasingly. His head snapped up, hazel eyes finding mine. "Sit down there," I pointed to an armchair near the window. While he did as I asked him, I took a chair, placing it next to the armchair, facing the other side. I took the notebook, a towel and a tape measure I used the other day, and sat down on the chair.

I looked at him amused. From this angle I could see only his face and shoulders. "Go ahead. I won't look." With that I opened the notebook looking for the page, but he hadn't moved gazing up at me.

I smiled still leafing through pages. "Let me tell you a secret, okay? We have something in common, Az." I leaned closer to him as if it was really a secret I was about to reveal. "When I say I won't look, then I really won't do it." I looked straight into his eyes to make it clear that I meant it. "I can even measure you without seeing it. I don't need to touch you either. All I need is for this measure to touch you. That's all. So take your pants off and let me know when you are ready."

At this moment he was panting heavily, his pupils dilated. "Do you want me to chit chat you through it? Or do you prefer silence?" I added, arching a brow at him when he just sat there gazing. Finally he moved and I heard as his pants slid down. Azriel's gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving mine.

He swallowed, his broad chest heaving. "I'm ready" he rasped, his usually deep voice deepened even more. I'd be lying if I said it didn't effect me. Now it was my turn to blush.

I handed him the towel. "Cover yourself." I stood up slowly to give him enough time. I turned to him placing notebook on a small side table within arm's reach. I gasped when I looked down at him. My heart went crazy, running for marathon and I could only wish he didn't hear it.

Azriel sat in the armchair in full grace as if it was his throne, his bare legs with muscles on right places spread wide, towel crumpled in his fist. He grinned challengingly.

Okay, maybe we have more than one thing in common. I hate losing, too.

My mouth went dry and I was panting as heavily as Azriel. My head emptied. It took me every ounce of self-control to step between his legs, control my trembling hands and measure him. But I did it, I didn't break.

"Much better," I said coolly as I wrote results down. I collected my things, ready to leave.

"You want to leave me like this, Y/N?" Azriel growled lowly.

I made the mistake and looked into his beautiful eyes. I wasn't sure what I'd seen in them, but it dug out all forgotten feelings. As wave of lust washed over me I lost control over myself. I sat down on the armrest, my legs brushing his thigh lightly. I placed hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

"You are right. I should repay you," I whispered inches from him.

For a while Azriel watched me as a starved man. Slowly, very slowly he erased the distance between us, his soft lips colliding with mine. The moan that came out from his throat made me forget whatever happened after that.

When his fingers found a waistband of my pants and started unbuttoning them, it was like a cold shower. I broke the kiss, untangling my fingers from his silky dark strands. Eyes still closed, his lips followed after me. I squeezed his fingers in my hands and he looked up at me. I could see he wasn't pleased that I stopped him, but he didn't try to pressure me.

"This part of me is not on offer," I said calmly sending him a sad smile. There wasn't reason to be mad. It was my fault in the first place, I was the one to provoke him. "For you it might be just another one night stay that you forget all about very next morning, but I'm different." I stood up fixing my clothes. "I take male to bed only when I have feelings for him and vice versa." He frowned, ready to say something. "I'm trying to say.. for me it isn't just sex.. To do it, I need real relationship, real feelings, security.. Lust isn't enough. I'm sorry." I left quickly and he didn't try to stop me this time.

Next day early in the morning I left to collect data at camps. Work helped me to forget about that night, but as soon as I stopped, it all returned. The most scary thing was to return back to Velaris and meet him. So I extended my stay as much as possible.

Four months later I was sitting in a sitting room of River House, chatting with Feyre and Mor by the fireplace after the family dinner. I collected all data to get some presentable results and currently I was half through writing in down. (Just between us, the rumors have proven to be true. Larger wingspan equals bigger you-know-what)

It was few weeks since I returned to Velaris and so far Azriel was avoiding me as much as possible. When we happened to be in the same room, he didn't even acknowledge me, looking the other side. So much for my fear.

Did it hurt? As hell. He was my friend. The feelings he awakened that night also didn't disappear over night, haunting me down every spare minute I had. I pushed them deep down, but it was too late. I'd already fallen for him.

During our stay at camps, Mor found out that something must have happened before we left, but she'd never asked about it. Which I was very grateful for. I wasn't ready to talk about it.

Now she kept peeking somewhere behind me, biting on her lower lip, unusually silent. Something was obviously bothering her. I could ask her straight away, but I decided to give her 5 minutes to see if she would start to talk on her own. It took exactly 3 minutes.

"Uhm, Y/N, tell me. Something happened between you and Az?"

"I may have hurt his male ego. Why?" I replied as casually as possible.

"He keeps eyeing you and I know that look too well. He watched me like that for five centuries, but it's never turned into something so... Desperate?" She turned to Feyre. "What do you think?"

Feyre inconspicuously peeked behind me, too. "Yeah, definitely desperate. And sad. Rhys said that lately he isn't himself. As if something was wrong with him? Maybe bothered him? But he won't talk about it."

Mor nodded. I had the urge to turn around and see for myself, but I resisted.

"What happened?" Mor asked and Feyre leaned closer, eager for details.

"Well, he kind of misunderstood the situation.. and I told him.. that I don't do the one night stay thing.."

"He actually went after you?" Mor beamed lowering her voice.

"Not really. I might have provoked him a bit," I reluctantly admitted.

They giggled like small girls, looking at each other.

"Y/N, believe me when I tell you that you can't provoke him," Mor whispered enthusiastically. "Nobody is able to break him. He is like.. granite."

"There must be something more behind it," Feyre added. "You should go and talk to him."

"You should," Mor agreed. "He looks to be on the verge of total breakdown." She again peeked behind me. "Go. Right. Now."

They both gave me nod, stood up and moved to another chat group. I stayed alone, just like Azriel who sat in an alcove with window behind me. I inhaled deeply, slowly breathing out. I could at least give it a try. Standing up I took my glass and walked to him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he answered lowly. I hardly heard him. His face was as unreadable as usually, but his impossibly beautiful hazel eyes.. Yeah, they were right. He looked to be on verge of breakdown. Even his posture was all wrong. Slumped shoulders, hunched over, wings hanging down. The shadows hoovered around him like embodiment of his current mood.

"Everything alright?"

He nodded looking away. Ouch. He didn't want to talk with me. I probably hurt his ego more than I thought. I was lost for words. Did he expect me to apologise? I certainly wouldn't do that. I had every right to stop him back then.

Oh, male and their ego. Suddenly memories of my ex flooded my mind. And I got mad. Rage was the only emotion that never disappeared completely nor healed.

I turned around, ready to leave before I could take it out on the wrong person. Strong fingers wrapped around my arm, stopping me. They held me gently, but firmly. I looked back at Azriel and all the rage was gone instantly.

"Would you mind to it down with me?"

I couldn't speak, still shocked by the pain in his eyes. Just when I was seated in the alcove, he released me and sat back down, too. Silence stretched between us.

"I meant to say this much sooner," he started slowly. "I'm so sorry for my poor behaviour. I'm so ashamed." My fingers curled into fist, but I didn't dare to interrupt him. "I know you were just joking to make me feel better, to relax. I knew it even back then. I wish I could explain why I did it, but I can't. I was.. dick."

And how big dick. I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself. This was serious situation. But in all seriousness, he broke the records. Nobody had bigger than him.

"I should have covered with towel as you asked me. I shouldn't have stopped you. I shouldn't have kissed you," he whispered the last sentence. "I should even be sorry that I kissed you, but I am not. I wanted it. Really wanted. Still want it. I'm trash." He stood up quickly. I managed to pull him back down before he could run away. My pulse skyrocketed.

Waitwaitwait. Had he just said that he still wanted to kiss me? My rational part demanded answers. I had to solve this question before my reckless heart could come to own conclusion. I didn't need another heartbreak.

I looked deep into his eyes. I looked only for truth and nothing else. "Tell me, Az, why? Why do you still want it?"

He blushed fiercely and tried to look away, but I wouldn't let him. "Please."

"I..love you," he whispered and my heart stopped for second only to start racing at a crazy pace later.

I wasn't sure he really said that. That must be just my imagination, right? I gazed at beautiful, elegant Elain with big doe eyes sitting on the other side of room, laughing with her sisters. Yeah, I imagined it. But when my eyes slid back to him, he was gazing right back, tensed, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I think I misheard," I smiled nervously.

"I said.. I love you," Azriel repeated quietly, but clearly.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't think. I couldn't. I just surged forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a heartbeat and then his strong arms wrapped around me and held me firmly. Another tear followed the first one and then another, until it turned into an endless stream. I felt a cool touch of his shadows. They hid us from prying eyes. Or so I thought.

World tilted to the side and we were in my office where it all had started.

"More private," Azriel whispered when I released him to take a look around, confused.

I quickly wiped tears away. "Oh." I still wasn't ready to talk. My head was a total mess. Love. Azriel just told me he loved me. And he was still waiting for my answer. But I wasn't currently able to put the words together to make even a simple sentence.

"Do you need water?" he offered, helping me to sit to an armchair, the very same armchair where he.. Nope, I couldn't think about it now. It would be too much.

What was the question? Ah, water.. Did I need it? I nodded anyway and he handed me a glass. I emptied it immediately.

Azriel watched me carefully as if I could explode any second. I was trying to find something to ground me and my eyes fell to the notebook. "Wingspan," I blurted. His brows furrowed. "You have the largest wingspan."

He huffed in amusement. "Do I?" Azriel took a step back, his eyes were sad again.

Maybe I was crazy, but I reached out and pulled him down on me. "I believe I still haven't repaid for your help."

He shook his head. " You don't have to-"

"I want." I cupped his cheeks between my hands. He hesitated searching my face, his body tensed above me.

Azriel slowly leaned down and kissed me. It was nothing like the last kiss driven by lust and desire. This kiss was careful, exploring. I pushed against his shoulder and we exchanged our positions.

Just like the last time, Azriel was sitting in the armchair and I was above him. I made sure there was space between us. I didn't want to provoke him, sex was out of the question yet. He knew it, too, and kept his hands on my waist.

I deepened the kiss and soon enough we both turned into a panting mess. Azriel's moan startled me.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

I giggled. "You moaned back then, too."

"I can't help it," he smiled. Azriel leaned forward, keeping small space between us. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply again and again. "Touch them."

I swallowed. "What?"

"You can touch them," he spread his wings wide around us. "I've never allowed anybody to touch them. But now I want you to do so."

I was speechless second time today. Sacred Illyrian wings and he asked me to touch them. This was Illyrian way to say he trusted me. He trusted me even with his life.

I ran my fingers through his soft hair. "You know that.. there will be no sex today nor any time soon.." I hoped it came out as a joke. Truthful, but still joke.

He laughed breathlessly. "I know. That doesn't change the fact I want you to touch them. You said you want to repay me. So please.." He kissed the sensitive spot under my ear.

He got me there. If he only knew what he had called upon himself. I wanted to touch them, badly, but not only because they were his. I wanted it because I was the damn researcher which equals to a monster at times. I longed to feel the texture of the skin, to feel every single bone and muscle in them, everything.

"Are you really sure about this?" My attention was already trained on the beautiful enormous wings around me. This was his last chance to back out of this.

"Absolutely. So put those damn little hands of yours on them already," he rasped, landing another kiss to that sensitive spot.

He didn't need to repeat it again.

I gasped as tips of my fingers traced the soft skin around the bone. It. Was. Perfect. I expected them to be cold and rough to touch. Even though I touched him just lightly, I could feel every single muscle, even the smallest ones. The bone seemed to be so fragile and strong at the same time. Skin was so warm, stretchy and impossibly soft like baby's skin. I mapped every vein running through the membranes, his pulse drumming under my hands. I traced every scarred tissue I found, paying it extra attention.

I was so immersed into exploring his wings that I hadn't noticed what my curiosity did to Azriel until he came under me with a wall shattering roar. I winced, looking down at him.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed tightly. He was trembling and panting, his broad chest heaving heavily. Streams of sweat were running down the column of his exposed neck. His hands were fisting the material of armrests so tightly he almost torn it into shreds.

I couldn't believe I'd missed something so..amazing. Azriel was a piece of art in every possible meaning. My fingers traced the vein that bobbed out on his neck. He shuddered, his eyes slowly opened, looking up at me. Shadowsinger smiled weakly. "Only you can do this to me," his voice was hoarse.

I brushed away a damp strand of hair that fell to his forehead. My heart was beating wildly as I leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply. His hands embraced me, pulling me closer.

"I love you," I whispered to his mouth.

I wasn't scared anymore. In this very moment I was more confident than ever that I would spend the rest of my life with this perfect male. Because he was mine and I was his.

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