#x anyone part of the event is welcome to reply to this.

[justblades]

❝ THE GENERALS' COCKSLEEVE ! ❞

ᝰ. JIYAN x afab! reader x GESHU LIN

๋ᝰ. IN WHICH geshu lin tries to heal your hurt heart as you thought it was a one sided love with jiyan

ᝰ. SMUT, 18+ ONLY. double vaginal penetration, threesome, possessive! geshu lin, WC: 4.2k

a confidential expedition was sought in order to study the occurrences in the battle beneath the crescent. as there was no concrete evidence that recounts the whole of what transpired way back then, it was then decided the magistrate to take precautionary steps to delve deeper into the event.

as soon as the decision has been made, jiyan reaches out for you to talk in private. a secluded room freed from disturbances and lurking ears, a solemn look dances in his golden gaze. "the magistrate ordered for us to study the geographic location when the first retroact rain befell." he states as he shuffles the letter back to the envelope that he received from jinhsi.

a wax seal of ivory color engrained with the sentinel jué's design adorns the surface, jiyan's fingers trail the edges. you purse your lips tightly, reluctance slightly rising from your façade of composure. a tale as old as time, the jinzhou residents knew very well the story of the battle of the crescent.

what dawns in your perturbed mind was the former general behind it, the one deemed as the hero, the savior of all eventually leads the lives of the many to meaningless sacrifices. just the mere stories of those who witnessed general geshu's might would suffice to reinforce the thought on anyone that he was strong, mighty, that those onyx flames of his seared and tore through his countless enemies.

you're just as curious as the person next door. being jiyan's one of the few trusted rangers, you nodded, giving consent to the mission. the two of you will then embark on the journey once the sun rays peek through the bed of stars and the darkness.

it will pass . . . and so, the daybreak arises.

coming vis-à-vis with the general upon the agreed time to meet, the two of you swiftly weave through the vast forest, eliminating any possible tacet discord that might hinder your exploration progress with swift and haste. "we're nearing the norfall barrens now, be careful." jiyan reminds you as he treads forward, the broadblade hoisted at hand to prepare for any case of danger to come.

"yes, general." you reply as you manage to scan your surroundings carefully. as the ground beneath your feet starts to feel different the farther you walked and the olden structures welcome your vision with a faint light, the general looks back at you to confirm his observation. nodding in agreement, a sharp, gelid wind blows within, jiyan's teal locks ripple along the muted breeze.

"the magistrate ordered for us to not stay here for too long, as there's a possibility we might encounter larger waves of tacet discords." he pauses for a short while. "however, if we do not split up and make haste, we might lose the frequencies left behind the battle that might lead to  potential clues. given that we're both resonators, we're capable of diluting the echoes residing within the field."

he stops in his tracks, explaining the pros and cons of the decision to take. naturally, he's gearing towards the advice of jinhsi, as it is true that staying longer in this place will expose the two of you in greater danger. but a part of him doesn't want to split up from you, worrying he'll lose a trustworthy, competent figure in the midst of this expedition.

having known the general for quite some time, you've come to understand patches of his personality as if it were the back of your hand. you'd notice in the slightest change of his facial expressions, even more so in his tone lacing his words. no matter how miniscule the shift is, you'll always be able to know. "fret not, general. i assume you know me well as i know you." you simply state, flashing a small reassuring smile to subside the doubt gnawing at his bones.

jiyan nods slightly in exchange. "understood. i'll contact you via your terminal once i'm finished with exploring the half of the land and you'll do the same with yours. if you come into trouble, just ring me up, i'll come to your aid quickly." you reach for the gourd behind you, double checking if its functions are working in pristine condition.

after enough preparation, the two of you then separated ways with no goal other than to stay alive, rush to the aid of your companion in any hint of trouble and lastly, to pick up clues that draw back to the event. you make your way to the west of the norfall barrens, focusing on your senses to ensure that the exploration would go smoothly.

darkness envelops the whole land, dark embers of faded crimson continually drift from one place to another. among the lingering eerie noises resonating in the field, a distinct voice surfaces - "so it is you."

goosebumps ride on your skin as you prepare into stance and hoist your weapon, eyebrows furrowed as sobriety exudes from your body. when all of a sudden, a towering presence appears behind your back, and as you take a swift turn to face your supposedly opponent and strike them down in a single swing, black and indigo violet flames set the barren lands ablaze, kindling with the littlest movements from the broadblade the person does.

you take a step back, a suffocating heat engulfs everything, the oxygen left in your lungs thinning. struggling to catch your breath, you ball your fists and cough repetitively - the scale of this power is far too destructive.

"still holding out? impressive. no wonder he picked you."

once you finally manage to stabilize your breathing, you enhance your physical body with your forte, bracing impact once the person finally engages with you head on. within a blink of an eye, strands of long, grayish white hair comes to sight, and a pair of honey golden eyes lock gazes with yours.

he closes in with immense speed as the two of you exchange blows left and right. the male grits his teeth as the corner of his lips twitch upwards, "commend yourself for being able to withstand a fraction of my flames."

a gut feeling kicks in, that the danger you were watching out for - was finally settling. you instantly reach for the gourd as an attempt to reach jiyan on the other end, but no avail, the mysterious figure was faster than you. he approaches from above, swinging once more, clashing with your sword as his broadblade defeats yours. he successfully unarms you and manages to immobilize you with makeshift of bindings to keep you still. your back crashes flat on the dry land, a sharp pang of pain striking on your torso.

met with utter loss, he draws closer to you. he reaches his bandaged hand to your face, "could it be . . ." and your consciousness gradually fades away. "general geshu lin?"

rousing from a shortlived slumber, you jolt awake as your eyes peel open, your movements feel minimized. you examine the surroundings, and then yourself - a special restraint encages the both of your wrists together, seemingly one that is made of advanced technology especially catered to confine resonators. you knew from one look that it'd be useless to try and break free and you no longer bothered trying. instead, you opted for any possible methods to escape.

"general jiyan would not be able to come to your aid today, unfortunately." there it was again, the hoarse voice that resounds to your ears like a nightmare fuel. you flinch as you see him within your line of vision once more, confusion washes over yourself, at a loss for words in response to what he said.

"general, why?" was all you could verbalize amidst the worry pulling back your tongue. you bite your lip and could not help but think about jiyan, who put faith in your capabilities only for you to end up like this. "you're asking the wrong question." he says and kneels lower to your level, driving you to a corner as birch walls meet your back.

it was a small cabin from no one knows where that he resided in, necessary supplies and equipment arranged in a chronological manner displayed on the shelves. a dim light illuminated the vicinity, it flickers in opposition to geshu's strong gaze. "i know you have an unrequited love for the general - but you know as much as any midnight ranger that love is not a priority in jiyan's life."

his words struck like sharp lightning aiming to your heart, crushing it whole into smithereens of pain as your world flips upside down. questions come whirring in your mind, such as: why does he know? how does he know? what benefit does this fact bring to him?

unfortunately, his claim was true. being by the general's side for several years, you've seen him be vulnerable, reliable, and resolute regarding whatever trouble may come in his way. his bravery to withstand the lurking unknown sparked your faded flame inside your heart. jiyan became the beacon of light in your muddled world, as the two of you brave through the obstacles with joint forces, in every long night.

the sorrow he faced that you shared with him - it was halved. the joys he witnessed that you shared with him - it was doubled.

"come, be my companion instead. let us eliminate together the darkness at bay." geshu proposes and inches closer to you, his masculine features coming into full view. this time, you could see him better this time, only now noticing details you haven't before. a small mark adorns his face under his left eye and a diagonal scar carves his sultry lips.

he looks at you solemnly, you could feel the proximity between the two of you increase, until he finally presses his lips onto yours gently. shock courses in your veins - the general's tongue makes way inside your mouth, lapping your taste as it twirls with yours, performing a tantalizing rhythm to which mewls were elicited from the drowning pleasure.

you try to retort in opposition to his actions, but your protest was silenced as his right arm snakes its way up to your torso, tearing the fabric of your clothing with little effort. he nestles your nipple within the warm palm of his hand, his calloused fingertips fiddle on the very hard bud.

after making a concoction of your salivas mixed together, geshu breaks the kiss, leaving a trail that connects your lips to his.  "i-i can't abandon general jiyan from a petty reason. i did not uphold my duty all this time just so my feelings were to be reciprocated."

his aureate irises fixate on your features, "and you're loyal too. sorry, but i won't be as gentle as jiyan is to you." geshu crashes his lips on yours once more, this time, a burning carnal desire exudes from his aura, hands now exploring your body, removing the remaining worn out clothing as your tits spring free, nipples erect as glacial winds caress your skin. "so? have you two engaged in such an encounter before?" he manages to query in between heated kisses.

a muffled "no" reverberates and geshu immediately understands. a smirk creeps up to his face and pulls away, an idea slipping into his mind as he now buries his face in the crook of your neck. he asserts dominance as the general flicks his tongue all over the shell of your ear, proceeding to give the whole part slow, sloppy licks, as well as biting on the lobe to determine which you'd like more.

as if you were melting, you felt like putty in his touches as he continues to toy with your breasts. he savors your skin down to the sweet spot on your neck, putting pressure once he sucks on the part, leaving lust filled bruises. taking turns from licking, biting, and sucking, he finally gets his fill as his erection grows bigger and harder to restrain within.

a thought crosses your mind as his bulge brushes on your clothed region, maybe it isn't that bad, accepting general geshu lin's proposal, that is.

geshu shifts positions, he lays on his back as he makes you straddle his pelvis. "cat bit your tongue? i suppose i have to let your body do the talking from here on." heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassment dawning as you, ironically, grind your lower region against his bulge, creating friction to ease the lust brewing in your lower stomach.

the confinements of the both of your clothing felt impeding to the satisfaction the both of you are chasing. no longer spending time to be rational, you let your emotions guide your next course of action - you strip down his black pants alongside his undergarment, revealing his girthy cock itching for action.

it was adorned by the most prominent blueish veins, it continually twitches, as well as very warm in contrariety to the chilly, tranquil atmosphere encompassing the two of you. you gather spit from the back of your cheeks, redirecting it past your lips, creating leeway for it to trickle down geshu's throbbing dick.

with heavy lidded eyes and blind guess if the accuracy was right, your drool drips down from the head of his cock down to the shaft, cloudy hues gracing it. you slowly wrap your hands around his length, carelessly curling your fingers as you stroke it up and down, starting slowly yet sloppily.

geshu's body tenses from the foreign sensation, his legs trembling and arms jerking. he shuts his eyes, indulging in the feeling as you continue pumping him, granting you low growls of pleasure from the male. meanwhile you remain straddling him, higher levels of libido rushing to your bloodstream as you pick up the pacing. "t-that's it—" geshu verbalizes with a faint voice.

he gets along with your momentum, thrusting his hips upwards in accordance to your rhythm. as he was nearing his release the faster it dragged on, he rises only to flip your frail body around, pinning you down against the floorboards. geshu's chest rises and falls continuously, panting heavily as he feels his release draw back, much to his wish. you've never felt so small and helpless before.

you could pick up every detail of his body language, yet heeded no mind for the embarrassment that was previously gushing in your system. your mind starts to feel dizzy yet carefree, as if like you've drifted far away from reality and only cared about nothing other than satiating your hunger for carnal desire. once geshu's breathing stabilizes, he presses your lips against yours again, relishing every drop of your saliva.

it was becoming messy, but still, the two of you continued like animals in heat. he bites on your lower lip and sucks on the part up to no end, granting him winces of pain mixed with pleasure altogether. a deep chuckle resounds, "quite daring for you to enjoy that."

"no matter, i'll proceed as i please now." he continues and sweeps aside your soaked panties, revealing a heavenly view for him to revel in - white liquids seep out of your slit, a certain pungent scent wafts into his nostrils. "your scent is everywhere." the general states as a matter of fact.

uncertain if that was to be taken in a positive connotation, he wraps his hand around his dick and slaps it against your folds lightly, tapping the very head on your clit. the littlest touches send you spiraling into bliss, a strong yearning growing within. "put it in." you whisper with a weak voice. geshu looks at you, surprised, even more so once you add, "please."

your melting expressions have long been engraved in his mind, as he guides his tip to your slit, the door of his cabin busts open, a strong force sends it flying to the other side of the wall. geshu lin lets out a hoarse laugh, "ah, look who's here!" almost as if he was rejoicing, he repositions the two of your bodies, now holding you up as you sat on his dick.

your sight becomes hazy from all the foreplay ensuing, weakening senses coming back as you saw the familiar hues of teal within your bleary vision. jiyan stands across from your lust-lost bodies, eyes enlarging into two full moons as shock was painted upon his masculine features.

he hoists up his broadblade once more, threatening geshu to let go of your naked body. "general jiyan, if you would not treat such a competent figure like her right, then let me do it in your stead . . . as i am confident that i can treat her better."

rivalry rose from the two males, "that is no way to treat someone." jiyan's words cut through the thick tension sharply, while geshu's brows knit. "you say that, but have you paid attention to the face she's making?" just as he finishes his question, he pushes your body against his cock, thrusting into your cunt with no forewarnings. the intrusion makes a lewd, sloppy noise, accompanied by your moan unintentionally slipping.

a surprising warmth expands through your insides, stretching your velvet walls apart as they mold around the shape of the general's cock. you throw your head back in immense pleasure as he fills you up, mind almost threatening to go blank. "if you want to take her back, prove that she'd want you to reclaim her away from my grasp."

"if not . . . i'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be able to set your eyes on her."

jiyan has always been a rational person, one of the many qualities that renounce him to be truly befitting a title of a general. yet, as he sees you get lost among the sea of pleasure geshu lin has been drowning you in, a sense of ache thrums his heart against his ribcage. with slow steps he took, he's now merely inches apart from you.

geshu continues to hold you up and still, while jiyan leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek first and foremost: a sight that the former general would rather not have seen at all, contributing to his annoyance. while you remained there, incapable of taking action as if you're merely just existing. with little mustered strength, you manage to wrap you arms around jiyan's neck as you loll him into a deep kiss.

a deep kiss capable of delivering human emotions through an intimate action, "general. . ." your voice was faint, yet he understood your intentions. he shuts his eyes and let his emotions take control, immediately fondling your exposed chest as the icy tips of his golden armor fiddle your perked up buds. a moan escapes, followed by even more as the light haired general thrusts in and out of you with great force, the tip of his dick kissing your very womb. "g-general!" you yelp in an attempt to cry for mercy, yet you were only met with more brazenness.

"now you sound like you're yearning for two inside your tight hole." geshu says, frustration lacing his tone as he clicks his tongue afterwards.

jiyan's breathing becomes staggered, letting himself loose as he licks your boobs with his wet tongue, poking its tip on your erect nipples. your body flinches, its sensitivity building up while you remain a moaning mess. even you, yourself lost track of which general you were pleading to for, all you want is to drift afloat into the euphoric seventh heaven, with no other worries in mind but having your thirst quenched.

"will it fit . . ?" he asks as he casts you a look of concern, eyes fixing particularly on your lips that have been stained by three salivas all in all. jiyan unbuckles the dyad belt adorning his waist, letting everything come undone while geshu continues to pump in and out of you, his strong hands grip the plush of your thighs rather tight.

you could hear his mewls from behind, yet your attention was taken by jiyan who's currently stroking himself at the view in front of him. he sheepishly watches you get your cunt pistoned by the former general, his aching erection protruding from the fine fabric of his boxers. " . . . put it in too, general."

the two of them, simultaneously, had their jaws fall agape in shock upon hearing such yearning words come out of your mouth. with a sense of responsibility burning within jiyan, he strips himself naked at this point in time - ready to heed your request. his hands glide all the way down to your inner thighs, his dominant hand's fingers brush back and forth on your dewed folds. he anchors his attention on your pussy alone, at how it flutters every time geshu's cock pounds you in and out.

his patience starts to wear thin, the same could be said for you. with watery eyes and melting expressions, you call for him once more. "please." you mumble, but was eventually silenced as geshu turns you to him and initiates an open mouthed kiss. the teal haired general ached twice as much for more pleasure as he finally spreads your lower lips open, making more space for his dick to go in.

the head of his cock kisses the outermost part of your walls yet you were already squirming. numbness strikes through your legs and quiver, but geshu lin stabilizes them with his one arm hooked on the both of your thighs. he shoots jiyan a frustrated glare, one that seemingly felt that spoke words of "what are you waiting for?"

with slow motions, he finally inserts himself into you, the shaft of his cock comes into contact along with geshu's. jiyan's eyes dared to fall, a titillating feeling wallowing his dick whole. "so tight." he manages to utter in between his hardly stifled, ragged breathing, evident that this feeling was overwhelming.

it was getting overstimulating within each passing minute, with two, fat, big cocks buried inside of you, warming and accompanying your velvet walls as one of them itches to move - geshu's tip crooks inside and rubs on your sweet, textured spot, rewarding the generals your strings of satisfaction. "ah— i'm cumming!"

perhaps it was too late when you said it, but geshu pulls out, giving jiyan a chance to fully savor your slutty hole. "i'll make use of your mouth for now." he flips you around, making you stand on all fours with your ass perked upwards, giving jiyan a full view of your aching cunt.

you shake your hips in desperation, wriggling around just to feel his tip come into contact with your slicked walls again. all the while you coil your digits around geshu's cock, starting off with the head by kitty licks on its little slit. the white haired general loses composure and restraint, hands finding themselves cupping the frame of your face, urging for you to go deeper. as obedient as you became once lust runs in your system, you finally lap all his length up, and at the same time, jiyan rams into you, continuing where he left off earlier.

more sloppy sounds emit from the intercourse as slurping and licking accompanied geshu's dick. sweat begins to trickle all the way down all of your bodies, both the generals' luscious hair becomes disheveled, they ramp their movements by a notch as jiyan performs such impactful thrusts, ramming with his balls deep in and as for geshu, he fills your mouth with his dick alone - both aiming to chase the familiar feeling of release.

jiyan's pacing transitions into a faster one, hands gripping your waist hardly that'll certainly leave a burning sensation on your skin later on. meanwhile geshu lin, he bucks his hips forward, the tip of his cock kissing the very back of your throat. tears then begin to well up in your eyes, burning your irises as your gag reflex was getting harder and harder to tame.

"swallow it."

"i'll shoot it inside."

the both of them says in unison, and finally, strings of their sticky cum sprawl all over your body's insides: one in your womb and another in your throat. the two generals took some time to let these events sink in their desire filled minds, dicks still not softening any time soon.

jiyan looks at your naked back, the supple skin of yours makes him want to do more; eventually succumbing to the temptation. he wraps his arms around your chest and pulls you to a tight embrace, chin rests on your shoulder blade. you heavily pant, the back of your head now laid on the plane of his chest. the two of you then look over to geshu lin, whose facial expressions say that he's in no way satisfied. reading the ambience of the atmosphere, a gut feeling kicks in and tells you that jiyan feels the same.

geshu lin closes in, kissing away the drool escaping past the margins of your soft, sultry lips. jiyan then does the same, softly nibbling on your shoulder, making you elicit a short whimper.

"now, tell us. which one of us do you prefer?"

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

A Song of Ice & Shadow masterlist

Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

Word count: 2.11K

Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.

Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.

Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.

One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.

After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.

A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.

“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.

“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.

The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.

“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.

“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.

“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.

“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.

“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.

Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.

“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.

“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.

“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.

“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.

“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.

“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.

“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.

“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.

“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.

“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.

“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.

“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.

—-

Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…

As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.

At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.

Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.

“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.

“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.

“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.

“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.

“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.

“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.

The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still

“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.

Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.

“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.

“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.

“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.

“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.

“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.

“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.

“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.

“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.

—-

“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.

“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.

“I wanted to spend some time with you”

“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.

“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.

“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.

“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.

“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.

The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.

“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.

“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.

“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.

“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.

“Y/n” Nesta called.

“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.

“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.

“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.

—-

“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.

“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.

“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.

“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.

“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.

“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,

“It’s nothing”.

“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.

“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.

“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.

“Who attacked you?”.

“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.

To his surprise, she only nodded.

“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.

“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 18: Initiative

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 5342 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“His Majesty, King Toji Zen’in and Her Highness, Queen Nozomi Zen’in, are pleased to extend their most distinguished invitation to the Grand Royal Anniversary Ball in commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the founding of the Zen’in Kingdom.

On a splendors night beneath the stars, nobles, courtiers, and dignitaries from all lands are invited to join this majestic celebration taking place at the Zen’in Castle, where music, dance, and the brilliance of magic will illuminate the evening on the tenth day of the fifth month, year 700.

With the highest respect and gratitude,

King Toji Zen’in

Queen Nozomi Zen’in

May your path be guided by justice and honor.”

“A ball?!” You announced excitedly as you skipped in place.

It’s been years since you attended one. You missed the balls, but not for the dancing itself. You enjoyed listening to live musicians, especially pianists. The last time you went to one with your mother and sisters, it didn't go so well. Your mother scolded you on the way home for not dancing with anyone even though you had spent the last two weeks practicing choreography. You were never very good at talking to men like Yorozu was, but now you can enjoy one without the pressure of courting a rich man who will save you from misery.

"Every year it's the same," Uraume commented with annoyance, announcing her presence on the parade ground. "Welcome, Commander Mahito," they bowed respectfully to your savior.

"What's up?" He greeted them back with a red eye from tearing up so much.

"The king was invited to a ball! Sounds like fun!" You told Uraume showing him the invitation.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so excited,” Uraume replied, taking the invitation to put it back in its respective envelope. “The king has rejected every invitation he has received from the Zen’in in the last 5 years.”

Sukuna Ryomen, being a king who believes himself superior to everyone, never bothered to attend the royal events he was invited to. He would hate to waste his time on unimportant events like everyone else. He would rather starve to death than attend a stupid ball. Uraume has seen the king destroy letters from the sorcerer kingdoms just by knowing their content for centuries. They knew the king better than anyone else.

“It’s probably because the king doesn’t know how much fun they are,” you argued.

“It seems like you’re the one who wants to go,” Uraume said.

“Obviously I want to go. Besides, getting out of the castle would be great,” you explained with obviousness. “Wearing a pretty dress, dancing all night, watching and listening to the orchestra…” You explained, delighted at the idea of ​​living the experience again.

“Good luck, the king would never agree,” Uraume declared confidently.

Over the years, as the king’s right hand, Uraume has been the one in charge of receiving the packages, especially when it comes from enemy kingdoms. They are the first in line to defend the honor of the great kingdom of Sukuna and it is always the same. A strong sorcerer arrives to kill as many curses as possible, he fights against them so they don’t enter the castle, they surrender so they don’t waste any more time on a one-man mission, and they leave the letter to complete the mission. Uraume has had to go through that tedious process hundreds of times only for the king to destroy letters almost immediately. 

“I would at least like to try to convince him,” you commented determinedly.

“Oh, someone is sure,” Mahito teased, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way.

“You won't be able to do it. I've known the king for over 500 years, he'll never go to a ball or he'll allow you to,” Uraume explained calmly.

A light bulb went off above your head. You had an idea to distract yourself from your daily chores. Something you used to do with your sisters to resolve any conflict.

“What if we bet on it?” You proposed with a playful smile.

Uraume raised an eyebrow. Were you so sure you could convince them that you could bet it? It was a gigantic stupidity, they didn't have to lower himself to your silly games. Uraume was sure they would win anyway, but if he was so sure, why not bet it? It would be the easiest prize they have ever gotten in their life. 

“What do you want to bet?” Uraume asked you curiously.

“If the king agrees to go to the ball…” You thought for a second about what prize you wanted. You snapped your fingers when you got it. “I want Mrs. Inoue to become my lady-in-waiting.”

You really hated looking for Mrs. Inoue and interrupting her daily servant duties to talk to her for five minutes. If she became your lady-in-waiting, you could talk to her whenever you wanted and it would reduce her manual work considerably. Instead of washing dishes, sweeping for hours, and spending the whole morning among the crops, she could help you study, get ready for the day, and be at your training. It was the best reward you could ask for, and Uraume, being in charge of all the servants, could give it to you.

“Fine, but if I win, you will have to prepare dinner for the king for a month,” Uraume proposed their own reward.

Your smile immediately fell. Preparing dinner for the king meant having to maneuver humans as if they were fish. The mere thought of having to cut a human into different pieces and remove the bones from someone of your race made your stomach turn. This game was no longer as fun as you thought it would be.

“Scared?” Uraume asked you with a smile full of confidence.

“Uuuuh, they said your mom is fat,” Mahito whispered to you to tease you even more.

Were you really going to let them mess with you? Ever since you killed your sister, you have learned a valuable lesson. You weren't going to let anyone make fun of you, no matter how close or strange they were. You were a brand-new person and no one would mess with you anymore. Not Yorozu, not Naoya, not anyone else. You were going to win this bet. For you and for Mrs. Inoue.

“No,” you extended your hand. “Deal,” you smiled at them kindly.

Uraume relaxed his face, making it monotonous again. They shook hands. They were sure you were going to fail. There was no way the king would agree to something like that. You couldn’t get everything you wanted just because you were his favorite, but it would be fun to see you lose. They might not know you, but they did know the king.

“Follow me. The king is waiting for you,” Uraume showed them the way.

Back at the office, Sukuna and Kenjaku had seen the entire fight with Naoya. Sukuna knew Mahito was about to arrive, so he didn’t care much about leaving you alone for a moment with the stowaway, plus he wanted to see you in action in the middle of an invasion. It was a relief to see you keep your composure and act accordingly. He expected nothing less from you. On the other hand, Kenjaku was more interested in your skills with the bow. You were a good archer, but he didn't think you could hit a target moving so fast. You definitely had a technique, now it was time to find out what it was.

"My king, Commander Mahito has arrived," Uraume introduced the guest, letting him into the large office.

"Good day, my great king." Mahito bowed to him respectfully.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Sukuna," Kenjaku greeted him.

"Kenny!" Mahito ran to hug him. "Long time no see!"

"Likewise," Kenjaku hugged him back.

Sukuna watched you intently. You had long since gotten used to that suffocating feeling. He studied you from head to toe, memorizing your every move. From your posture to the gestures on your face, Sukuna learned more about you day by day. You just smiled at him to cut the tension between you.

“Did Naoya bring an invitation again?” Sukuna asked Uraume as soon as she handed him the envelope.

“That’s right.”

This was the perfect time to try to convince the king to go to the ball. You went over in your mind all the advice Kenjaku had given you about debate, that would be your greatest weapon in this intellectual battle. You had to do your best to beat him.

“Once you understand the other's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side has not really said,” you quoted your teacher in your mind.

First, you had to understand why Sukuna did not want to go to the ball. Most likely it was his racial hatred of humans. Balls are full of them, how could you convince him to go to a place full of the race he hates the most? Sukuna took the envelope, surely, to destroy it. You had to speak now to avoid it.

“It's an invitation to a ball,” you told him, approaching his desk to get his attention.

“I know, it’s been the same for 5 years now,” Sukuna replied.

“Dances are so much fun,” you came up with an empirical comment.

“They’re just a waste of time,” Sukuna replied. “You should turn the tables on him.”

“Not if he uses it to his advantage.” You threw the bait.

Everyone looked at you intrigued. Kenjaku quickly noticed what you were doing, he was about to watch your first live debate. He felt like a mother when watching her chick hatch. Sukuna relaxed in his seat, you behaved like in the chess game you had months ago. It didn’t take long for him to realize that you wanted to go to that ball. After all, you were a girl. Going to a royal ball promised to be a fairy tale night that every young girl your age dreams of. 

“What kind of benefit would I get from spending a night with stupid dancing rats?” Sukuna inquired, curious to know your next move. “He’s already down,” you thought confidently.

“Doesn’t he know that old saying? ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’” you explained. “If he goes to the Zen’in ball, it would be a chance to see the castle, its inhabitants, and its interior.” You made a good argument, but the king was still not convinced.

“What if it’s a trap?” Sukuna was about to eat one of your pieces.

“The same trap for five years in a row?” You moved your piece back just in time.

Kenjaku was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the conversation. This had been the actual fruit of his teachings. His first harvest had been a small, tasteless orange. If he kept putting in fertilizer, next year’s harvest would be bigger and juicier. There were many things you could improve on, but this was an incredible start. You were taking on the king on his own board, a difficult thing to do.

“Why not? Sometimes sorcerers are so stupid.” Sukuna sat back in his seat to become serious.

“If it really was a trap, why wait?” You asked. “I would take advantage of any important holiday to send him an invitation, if it was a trap.”

“Because the Zen'in Kingdom's anniversary ball is the only one where all the kings, the strongest sorcerers in the world, gather together,” Sukuna explained, eating one of your bishops. “Why would I go to the ball when I can attack some other kingdom?,” Uraume smiled slightly as they realized that Sukuna cornered you with that argument.

“Then why hasn't he done it?,” you asked, feigning innocence.

His red eyes widened as he realized. Sukuna had made a mistake in his argument and you noticing it only hurt his ego more. You sacrificed one of your bishops to eat his queen in one bite. The king had accepted that he knew that the ball wasn't a trap. If it were, he would have conquered some of the largest sorcerer kingdoms many years ago while their kings and troops were waiting for him in the wrong place.

“I really think it's a ball,” you continued. “A perfect opportunity to meet all your rivals in one visit.” Checkmate.

Sukuna looked at you, this time, admiring your bravery in facing him so directly. Even though it was your chance to be smiling from cheek to cheek for having won the argument, there didn't seem to be any malice behind your actions. You were just a girl who liked balls and you really wanted to go for fun. You hadn't done it to prove a point. Uraume looked at him in surprise, they couldn't believe his king was contemplating the idea of ​​going to a human event, leave that, a sorcerer's event.

"Fine, we'll go to the Zen'in ball." Sukuna gave you the win. Uraume's mouth dropped to the floor. This couldn't be happening.

"Thank you, my king!" You squealed in joy. You walked around his desk to throw yourself at him and hug him by the neck. "You'll see that you won't regret it!"

The colors rose to the king's face as soon as you kissed his cheek. Your warm embrace pressed him to your body as you invaded his face with loud kisses of gratitude. Each kiss tickled his body with emotion. You transmitted to him that warmth that characterized you. He stood frozen like a monument, his body short-circuited as he couldn't understand why you were acting so loving towards him. Receiving that kind of affection wasn't in his system. He never thought you would do something like that of your own free will.

"I'm leaving, I'll go pick out the dress I'll wear," you said. You walked away from him, leaving him wanting more, to leave the office and look for Mrs. Inoue.

Sukuna and Uraume still couldn't believe what had happened. "Is she really that happy to go to the ball?" he thought, caressing the cheek you just kissed him on. It was warm and a little wet. It was the first time he experienced something like that. "Did the king really let himself be convinced like that?!" Uraume was about to confront him, but the king spoke first.

“Uraume, take Commander Mahito to his room to rest from his journey,” Sukuna ordered, slowly coming out of his trance. He remembered that he was in front of very important people for his kingdom.

 “Yes, my king.” Uraume bowed to guide the guest to his new room. “It seems that I will have to face him later,” they thought.

“Thank you, my king. See you later,” Mahito said goodbye, following behind the servant.

Once the door closed, Sukuna dropped his face into his upper hands. His face was so hot that he could roast a piece of meat on his cheeks. His heart kept beating a mile a minute for every kiss you gave him. This was the reaction he hated you causing him. It confused him and distracted him from his plans.

“I have taught her well, haven’t I?” Kenjaku gloated over his star pupil.

“Too well.” Sukuna placed his face in one of his hands to look at him in annoyance, not because he had done what he asked, but because his ego had been crushed.

“Do you still think the dance is a trap?” Kenjaku asked him.

“Definitely,” Sukuna answered, trying to focus on the plans for the war he was planning to start. “But it’s not for a surprise attack. It would be too obvious if it was.”

“It’s complicated because I agree with you and the young lady.” Most likely they are looking for information. “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,” Kenjaku commented.

“There is only one way to find out, but I am sure of one thing.” The king took the envelope with the invitation.

In addition to the wax seal with the Zen’in symbol, there was a stamp with a purple orchid. Orchids come in different colors and the meaning depends on this. Purple ones usually mean justice, prudence and wisdom. The Zen’in know perfectly well what they are doing.

“The Zen’in have already made their first move.”

You skipped through the halls happily and with a big smile on your face. You greeted all the servants, who saw you so happy in such a sad castle. You couldn’t believe that you had won a bet against Uraume and now he had saved Mrs. Inoue from her usual chores. You headed to the garden where you knew your best friend would be harvesting the crops. You found her crouching down picking carrots, pulling one by its leaves.

“Mrs. Inoue!” You greeted her as you ran over to her, being careful not to crush the other vegetables.

“What are you doing here? Did you hear the invasion alarm?” Mrs. Inoue asked you, surprised that you were with her and not sheltering somewhere safer.

“I heard it, Naoya Zen'in is a complete idiot,” you commented angrily, emphasizing that you stood up to him.

“You fought Naoya Zen'in?! That's dangerous!” The lady scolded you while spanking you as if you were a naughty child. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Is he as handsome as they say?” The lady bombarded you with questions, although she seemed more interested in the last one.

“Yes, no and yes,” you answered at the same speed. “But that's the least important,” you took the basket of carrots from her hands to hang it on your arm. “From now on you stop being a maid.”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you, puzzled.

“From today on, you will be my lady-in-waiting,” you told her, interlacing her arm as yours to return to the castle.

It was wonderful news. Unlike maids, ladies-in-waiting are not seen as domestic servants, so she would leave tedious tasks to spend the whole day with the young lady. Her new job would simply be to provide conversation and company, much less tiring than running around the castle.

“Does the king know about this?” The lady inquired, somewhat worried that this was too good to be true.

“It is not my duty to inform him. I won a bet against Uraume, let them tell him.”

Mrs. Inoue was flattered. She didn't know what you had done to achieve this, but she was sure that you had done it to protect her. You always cared about others, even if it ended up harming you. That meant that you considered her a close person and that you could trust her.

“You know? All my life I worked in the Sukuna mines, so I never got married or had children, much less grandchildren,” The misses commented as they walked through the hallways. “You are the closest thing to that,” she told you with a smile so as not to cry from the joy of having someone who cared about her.

“I will do anything for my family.” You responded with the same gesture, taking her hand to return to the castle.

Night fell on the kingdom of Sukuna, the best time to hunt humans. The curses prepared their fangs, claws, tentacles or any strange limb they had to stalk the human commune with caution. The small army of the commune deployed its night watch every evening. The men and the elders positioned themselves in their respective places with their sharp weapons to counterattack in the worst case that a curse decided to appear there. They could be weak, but never cowards.

The king walked from side to side in front of his fireplace, thinking about what war strategies he could implement for the Zen'in dance with their pros and cons. It was difficult to plan when he did not know with certainty what the Zen'in wanted from him, but he better be prepared for any possible scenario. His head was beginning to hurt from thinking so much about the uncertain future. He needed to relax.

He stumbled upon the erotic books that Kenjaku had let him read as homework a month ago. “It’s true, I never read them.” As soon as he opened the page he had stopped at, his mind traveled to that memory where he had you against the bed. Your innocent eyes looking at him with uncertainty, your hair spread across the sheets and your breasts exposed, wanting to be touched. He slammed the book shut as soon as his cheeks suddenly heated up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Sukuna exclaimed, pulling his hair out of frustration.

Sukuna had accepted that he thought you were pretty, that you were a faithful servant and that you would be a capable queen, but this was already on another level. He thought he only felt a strong conditional respect for you like the one he had for Uraume, but now it was much more than that. Having accepted that he was in love with you was the worst decision he had ever made in his life. If he didn't find a way to control himself, everything would get out of hand. He fought with every cell in his body to stay out of it, to remain the terrible king he had always been.

He covered his face in an attempt to forget your naked body, but he couldn't. He didn't understand. He had seen many naked bodies to eat, none of them gave him pleasure to see. He preferred to see them suffer than on the cold kitchen table, being cleaned with a knife to be his food later. He considered humans to be filthy rats, why did he see you in a different light?

Sukuna looked at himself in one of the mirrors that hung near his closet, framed with beautiful gold leaf engravings. He couldn't believe that this face that commanded respect and spread terror through the villages was blushing at the thought of a human. A conspiracy impossible to believe. What did all this mean? This couldn't be happening, not to him.

“No! You can't let her take control of you. You should control her!” He scolded himself strongly in front of the mirror, pointing a finger at himself.

Sukuna tightly squeezed the book he had in his hand. He had to prove to himself that he could control himself, avoid thinking about you, seeing you like any other human. He lay down on his bed in annoyance. He looked for the page where he had stopped. He wrinkled his forehead, concentrating on his mission: to be able to read an erotic novel without having any kind of reaction.

The count opened the door with his heart in his hand. She must be the only person he expected to see under the beauty of midnight. It was her, his beautiful beloved wrapped in pink lace. His lips pounced on her with the force of a desperate hurricane. They couldn't waste a second of this spontaneous encounter away from everyone. He unwrapped her like a birthday present and laid her down on the bed. He was going to make love to her as if this were the last night he would be alive.

This was the fantasy world he lived in every time the planets aligned to give them the opportunity to be together. Every kiss, every caress, every touch felt like the last, taking advantage of every second in her presence. His lips were hungry to taste her sensitive skin, to discover what lay beyond her beauty. He tasted her erect breasts with a burning passion that only a man can feel for the love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy.

“The love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy,” Sukuna whispered the last sentence to himself as if it were an enigma.

He knew what love was, he didn’t live under a rock, but the love of his life seemed to him an even crazier concept than love itself. He knew that there were different categories of love: parental love, love of art, romantic love, etc. So, what the heck was the love of his life? A once-in-a-lifetime love? Wasn’t that the same as the love of a partner? “Ugh, humans and their nonsense,” he thought, growing more enraged with the situation.

She pressed the book against his bare chest, mulling over the idea in her mind. Maybe he didn't know if you were the love of his life, but you did drive each of his senses crazy. You altered his vision when he saw you in those expensive dresses he bought you. You altered his touch every time he had you close enough to feel your skin. You altered his hearing with every compliment you sang to him. You altered his sense of smell every time he managed to smell the trace of your perfume, even the slightest. You altered his taste with those lips that he just wanted to keep tasting. He was losing his focus. He took the book again to return to what he was doing.

She mounted him, taking possession of his body as if it belonged to her for life. She snaked her way to his lips, offering him the apple that would take them out of paradise forever. The Garden of Eden didn't matter if they could create their own just by being close. Their mouths fused in a kiss as he melted into her. A pleasurable moan escaped from their throats as they felt their flesh rubbing together. Finally, they were united after so long.

Their bodies moved in sync. Lust coursed through their veins, preventing them from thinking coherently. The only thing that mattered was that they felt fulfilled with each other. His beloved moved her hips to the beat of an invisible metronome. Their intimacy expanded with each sit, splashing her fluids over his legs. Her smooth breasts bounced in front of him like a distraction from what was happening below. His hands ran over her rear to guide her to the point that expanded her horizons. A forbidden dance that would cost them their lives.

“My king,” he heard your voice whispering in his mind.

You were on top of him, completely naked. You caressed his chest with the tips of your fingers, moving his tunic out of the way. His breathing hitched as he felt your hips moving sensually against his crotch. It was slow, too slow. Sukuna tried to back away but you moved closer to him, cornered against the headboard of the bed. You smiled innocently at him as if you weren’t playing with him until he burst from impatience. Sukuna’s heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. He was terrified, not because you were there, but because of what he was capable of feeling. He wanted to continue being the terrible king, but he couldn’t do that if you were here. He wanted to get rid of this feeling that tormented him. He wanted…

Your lips against yours silenced all the noise in his mind. He closed his eyes and let himself melt under your sweet touch. He threw the book aside to take possession of your hips. He had no idea what he was doing. He just let his primitive instinct take over. Everything was silent in the middle of the night. If you paid attention, you could hear his altered breathing in the company of the burning campfire. He caressed your hair while his other hands and the tongue on his stomach ran through your body, invoking his mouths to plant kisses on you along the way.

You caressed his strong arms, running over every inch with tenderness until you took his shoulders. Sukuna's face was inked with carmine, but that didn't matter to him now, he needed to satisfy that hunger that he couldn't calm with just anyone. You arched your back as Sukuna took you by the butt with his lower hands, while his upper hands held you to his now bare chest. Your tongue extended as far as possible to feel any corner of your body that it could reach.

He opened your ass to introduce one of his members. Both of you let out a moan in unison at the terrible pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna growled until he put it in as far as it would go. It was tight, warm and slimy, the best feeling he had ever experienced in his life. He guided your hips to move along the magnitude of his penis. Slow but hard, increasing the speed so that you would get used to his body. He kissed your neck, leaving it full of love marks.

He had you under control, right where he wanted you. He was the only one who could own your body. The only one who could see you in such a vulgar way. He flexed his legs to be in charge of the tempo. He slammed his big cock against your wet vagina, soaking his lap and his second cock with your fluids. He growled with each movement, a roar of satisfaction at reaching his maximum. Your hands ran down his neck until they reached the nape of his neck to pull his hair, the only support you had to withstand each blow to your cervix. His four arms trapped you so that you stayed still. You were cornered to his body with no escape.

The second cock was erect like a post, also wanting to participate in the action. It hit your ass like a door, asking for permission to enter. Sukuna, sensing that urgency, lifted you up to sit you on his lap again. He took hold of your arms, keeping them behind your back while he opened his ass to let his extra friend in. You moaned in pain but stayed still. He forced you to lower your hips so that he could enter completely.

“Show your king how much you love him,” Sukuna purred on the edge of maximum excitement.

Sukuna was a complete mess. His body hadn't sweated like this since his last battle with King Jogo, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest and he moved like a machine to reach the end of the race. Your bodies collided with each other, your ass clapping against his testicles to a rhythm that they had just invented. He grunted with each push you gave him to the beat of his strong hips. He took your breasts, covering them completely with the palms of his hands. A pair of tongues appeared on them to lick and nibble them gently, excited and curious to delight in that flesh that they would never dare to swallow. They were soft and playful, a perfect distraction from what was happening down there.

As soon as he least expected it, a white liquid shot out of their penises. Sukuna had recently learned that it was semen and it was normal. He let go against the bed as he breathed heavily. He relaxed his neck, letting his head fall back against the pillows. He closed his eyes as a smile crept onto his face. This had been the best night of his life.

He opened his eyes to take care of you but you were no longer there. You never were. He only found his hands holding his now limp members after having finished what he deserved. Reality hit him hard. He had imagined it all to masturbate. He let out a desperate cry before throwing Kenjaku’s book into the flames of the fireplace. He pulled at his hair as he wondered why all this was happening to him. “No, no, no!” he repeated in his mind. It was official. The king lost his mind.

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LIES, SPIES, AND HOT GUYS |

Gn!Detective!Reader x Batman

summary: as a detective you make sure you prioritize Bruce Wayne’s safety but he assures you he doesn’t need it, prick.

You never expected to find yourself at one of Gotham's most glamorous events—a gala at Wayne Manor. Awkward and out of place, you struggle to fit in among Gotham's elite.

The moment you stepped into Wayne Manor, you felt like a fish out of water. The grand chandeliers, the polished marble floors, and the glittering gowns of Gotham's elite were a far cry from the gritty crime scenes and dimly lit precincts you were used to.

Far different. The air felt too expensive to breathe.

Why had you even agreed to this?

Oh right, the Commissioner insisted on having "a few of Gotham's finest" at the event, just in case. And with your gruff demeanor and awkward social skills, you had drawn the short straw.

Awkwardly, you stood near a large ornate column, sipping a glass of water and trying to avoid eye contact with the crowd. Despite the suit and tie—or, in their case, a somewhat ill-fitting tuxedo—they felt utterly out of place. The pants felt too tight around your rear and you got this done at the shop. How could they screw that up?

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail, searching for anything—or anyone—out of the ordinary.

Just as you were beginning to try to relax, you spotted a group of familiar faces. The Wayne kids—Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, and a few others—stood near the large windows, looking far too at ease in the luxurious setting.

Summoning a bit of courage, you approached them. After all, if they were going to be stuck here, they might as well make some polite conversation.

"Grayson, Drake," You greeted with a nod, trying to sound casual but polite.

Dick smiled brightly. "Detective! Didn't expect to see you here!"

"Yeah, well… duty calls, I wasn’t exactly invited by you but..” You muttered, feeling a bit more self-conscious than you intended. Tim gave a small nod of acknowledgment, while Damian looked as uninterested as ever.

Why do you even try at this.

Before the conversation could go further, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Detective, welcome to Wayne Manor."

You turned to see Bruce Wayne approaching, his signature charming smile firmly in place. The billionaire looked every bit the part, effortlessly exuding wealth and charisma.

His looks lived up to the legend, pretty punk.

"Mr. Wayne," You greeted, doing their best to mask their awkwardness. Which probably failed. "Thanks for having me.”

"Of course. I always appreciate Gotham's finest keeping an eye on things," Bruce replied, his tone friendly yet distant. There was a glint in his eyes, something that set you on edge. Before they could respond, Bruce offered another smile, then excused himself, moving on to mingle with other guests.

You watched him go, your brows furrowing. Something about Bruce seemed… off. But before you could dwell on it, your attention snapped back to the task at hand: scanning the room for any potential threats.

As the evening wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You kept a close eye on Bruce from across the room, noting how the billionaire seemed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, charming everyone he spoke to. But that nagging feeling in the back of your mind wouldn't go away.

And then it happened.

A loud crash echoed through the grand hall, followed by the panicked screams of guests. The doors burst open, and a group of armed robbers stormed in, weapons raised. Chaos erupted as people dove for cover, and the orchestra’s music was abruptly silenced.

"Everyone down! Now!" one of the robbers shouted, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.

Instinctively, you reached for their gun, but the crowd's panic made it impossible to get a clear shot. People were scrambling, pushing, and shouting. In the confusion, you caught sight of Bruce Wayne, who had been near the doors moments before. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it!

You pushed through the crowd, your focus entirely on finding Bruce. If something happened to Gotham's golden boy on your watch, you would never forgive yourself.

Thankfully, you managed to slip away from the main hall, only to find Bruce backing into a nearby room, the door clicking shut just as you reached it. They shoved the door open and rushed inside, finding Bruce standing calmly by the window, looking far too composed for someone who was supposed to be terrified.

His fingers twitched when he heard the door open though, so maybe he was alarmed. You couldn’t blame him, it was a scary situation for anyone.

"Mr. Wayne, are you alright?" You panted, closing the door behind them and locking it.

Bruce turned to face them, an almost amused expression on his face. "I’m fine, Detective."

"Good. Stay here," You ordered, pulling out their gun and moving to stand between Bruce and the door. "I’ll handle this."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "That won’t be necessary."

You frowned. "What do you mean it won’t be necessary? There are armed robbers out there! You need to stay put, or you could get hurt."

"I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Bruce said, his tone calm and almost… teasing.

The detective’s frustration flared. Here you were, trying to protect this man, and he was acting like it was no big deal. "Look, I get that you’re used to getting your way, but right now, you need to let me do my job!"

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful glint fading. "And what if I told you that I could handle this situation better than you think?"

You were about to snap back, but the words died in their throat as they realized what Bruce was implying. "You’re not seriously thinking about playing hero, are you? This is my duty.”

Marching up to him, you poked your finger repeatedly into his chest.

“I’m here to protect you, Mr. Wayne.”

Before Bruce could respond, a loud bang echoed from the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps approaching the door. With precision, you pulled Bruce by the waist and forced him behind you. You stiffened, turning their full attention to the door. "Stay behind me."

"Detective—"

"I said stay behind me!" You hissed, cutting Bruce off as you aimed your gun at the door. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins.

The door burst open, and you were ready to fire, but the figure that entered the room made them hesitate. It was Nightwing.

"Hold your fire!" Nightwing ordered, raising his hands as he stepped inside.

You lowered their weapon, exhaling a shaky breath. "What are you doing here?"

Nightwing glanced at Bruce, then back at you. A cheeky glint in his eyes. "I’m here to get him out of here.”

"Wait, you know him?" You asked, confused.

Nightwing’s lips curled into a half-smile. "You could say that."

Bruce stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, Detective, but I’ll be safe with him."

You opened their mouth to argue, but the calm, assured look in Bruce’s eyes stopped them. For some reason, you believed him—despite how absurd it all seemed.

But did you seriously suck that much at your job that he felt safer with masked vigilante than a GCPD officer? You felt your pride shatter.

With a bitter taste in your mouth and the slightest pout on your lips, you nodded. Giving Bruce a pat on the back.

Nightwing took Bruce by the arm, guiding him toward the door. "Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe."

You watched them go, their mind racing. None of this made sense. Why would Nightwing, of all people, be protecting Bruce Wayne? And why did Bruce seem so… unconcerned?

As the door closed behind them, You finally allowed yourself to breathe. The realization hit you like a freight train: Batman was out there, hunting these criminals, and Bruce Wayne was likely his next target.

"Idiot," You muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "Of course, Batman would want to protect him."

Then you felt your heart sink.

“Or harm him.”

But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bruce Wayne than met the eye. Something you couldn’t quite put you're finger on.

As you exited the room, ready to join the fight outside, you couldn’t help but wonder: Just who exactly was Bruce Wayne? And why did they feel like they were in way over their head?

One thing was for sure: you were going to find out.

And when you did, you had a feeling it would change everything.

Red Hood stopped your inner monologue. “Yo, Hey, Dude— C’mon. Snap out of it.”

You blinked, your eyes reaching up.

“Now, are you going to stand there looking like a rookie, or are you going to help me with these goons?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, turning to see Red Hood leaning casually against the doorframe, his helmet tilted slightly as if amused by your daze. You cursed inwardly—first Nightwing, now Red Hood. How many of Gotham’s vigilantes were going to show up tonight?

“You’re here too?” you asked, exasperated.

“Yeah, and lucky for you. Looks like you could use the backup,”

Red Hood quipped, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. “Now, are we gonna take these guys down, or do you need a minute to process whatever conspiracy theories you’re cooking up?”

You shot him a glare but nodded. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Red Hood grinned beneath his helmet, drawing his guns. “Hell yeah.”

a/n: guys, asks r open :3 I wanna write more for my boysss 🫶😔 (no cursed shit plz)

[dirtyvulture]

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest. 

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months. 

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore. 

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself. 

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you. 

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech. 

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.  

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch. 

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given. 

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice. 

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures. 

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom. 

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over. 

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.   

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay. 

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.    

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper. 

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle. 

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock. 

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all. 

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too. 

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck. 

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

I wrote a Part 5, which you can read here.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[kazekagevi]

Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: dark themes, mention of suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, Jake Sully appearance, random Human!OC's, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies. 

Summary: You settle into your new home at High Camp. You have a conversation with the Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully.

A/N and Disclaimer: If anyone would like to be notified/tagged in future updates, please comment on this post! Forgive any present tense inconsistencies.

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work. 

Your adrenaline plummets. You rest for hours without interruption. 

The room Max has put you up in is nice, but you know it’s too spacious to be permanent. You lie comfortably on a lumpy couch. Sometimes the dim lights flicker, there’s a constant mechanical hum, and the blankets are scratchy, but you nap peacefully for the first time since cryosleep. It’s homely. You need this moment of respite. 

Hours later, you wake to the smell of something fragrant cooking. You’re so hungry that you feel nauseous. 

As badly as you want to leap from the couch and venture into the kitchen, you lie still. You continue to cherish this time to yourself—you’re unsure when you’ll get such an opportunity again. 

You let the events of the past week wash over you like a tidal wave. Tears come and go, just like mental flashes of the faces of the many women and allied wardens long gone. As demoralizing and dehumanizing the experience was, you became a tight-knit family because of it. Your pain is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before—as much as you miss them, you know they’re better off dead than being torn apart and transformed into the RDA’s breeding machines. It leaves a tart feeling in your mouth: it’s upsettingly bittersweet. 

Wading through the water of your thoughts and emotions is treacherous. If you swim too long, you know you’ll drown. 

You push away the blankets, then fold them neatly. You swipe beneath your tear ducts. After standing by the door for ten minutes, you gain the courage to place your palm over the entryway censor. You make it two steps out before you’re stopped. 

You’re startled by a woman’s whistle—it’s reminiscent of a catcall. She leans against a doorframe with a toothpick between her canines. She’s human. She’s stocky and muscular. The woman wears a navy-blue jumpsuit and combat boots. You can tell her hair was once jet black, but it’s starting to grow in gray. “Welcome, new girl,” she says.

“Hi,” you reply sheepishly. You introduce yourself—first name only. 

She does the same: “I’m Mia.” 

You shake hands—you note that her palms are very calloused. Mia must be involved with hands-on labor. 

“Listen, I don’t like to beat around the bush,” says Mia. She leans in closer, like she has a secret to tell you. “You need to shower,” she confesses, this time much quieter. There isn’t a lick of malice in her tone. “Like, immediately.” 

You appreciate her honesty, but your cheeks flush. Mia pulls a chuckle from your chest. “I know,” you reply feebly. 

And so, Mia takes this moment as an opportunity to give you a proper tour of the human’s facility at High Camp. You’re going to be living there, after all. 

Admittedly, there isn’t much to see. Together, you stroll through the science shacks and a few vacant laboratories. You meet a few more scientists. You return to the two flex rooms, like the one you napped in; Mia shows you the barracks and bunk beds, the link units, and the kitchenette. Norm is cooking what he describes to be his very own fusion recipe: a soup that combines both human and Pandoran ingredients. In passing, you apologize to Norm for spitting on him, again—you’ve already apologized four times, but once more couldn’t hurt. He makes it abundantly clear that everything is well between you both. 

“I would do the same if they captured me,” Norm confesses. “Much worse, in fact.” 

Your tour ends at the showers. Mia leaves briefly, then returns with a towel, a new bar of soap, a plastic hairbrush, a few garments of clothing, and a toothbrush and paste. “This is all we have right now,” Mia explains. 

It’s more than enough, you think. 

Tears well in your eyes at the sight of these items; although necessary for most humans, to you, these things feel like a luxury. 

“There’s hot and cold water knobs. The hot water alone won’t last long. Try to maneuver the knobs to use hot and cold at the same time,” she says with a short demonstration. Warm water spits out of the shower head onto the tiled wall in front of it. You hold out your palm—it’s bliss. 

You’re solaced. You thank Mia one last time. She takes her cue to leave and gives you some privacy. 

---

Despite the lukewarm water diminishing to icy-cold after only a few minutes, you spend a long time in the shower. You wash your hair. You scrub everything, at least twice. Your pruned fingertips feel foreign angst the metal knob—you haven’t been allowed a long enough shower since your past life on Earth. 

The clothes Mia left for you don’t fit quite right. The pants drag on the floor and aren’t secure around the waist; you take a step, and your trousers pool at your knees. You have no choice but to create a makeshift belt with spare twine and an aptly-sized piece of elastic from Mia’s sewing kit. As you weave the components together, you realize her sewing kit doubles as her first-aid box. She must use the same thread to stitch seams on fabric and cuts on skin. You take this opportunity to gently reapply scar ointment and new dressing to the stitched slash beneath your collarbone. 

The tanktop she gave you, on the other hand, was made for someone with slightly smaller anatomy. In comparison to the pants, it fits skin-tight snug. Luckily, the undergarments are trouble-free. 

When you re-enter the common area, everyone is there. It’s down-to-Earth, you note—the thought makes your lips curl into a smile.

You spend a few moments observing. Most of the scientists look like regular people. They’re plain. Modest, simple. There’s nothing particularly special about any of them, barring their bright smiles. People involved with the RDA don’t smile like that. 

It isn’t long before the “plain scientist” exception enters via the airlock entrance. 

At first, you think he’s naked. You instinctively cover your eyes with your palms to give the guy some privacy. You faintly hear him yell something out the door through the glass—you can’t discern any of it, so it must be in Na’vi. You peek through your fingertips. 

Once the front airlock closes, the human male removes his oxygen mask, hangs it on a hook by the entrance, and presses his hand to the entryway scanner. He strolls in casually, like he owns the place. The young man wears nothing but a loincloth and carries an old leather satchel. Painted, blue streaks mark his body in horizontal stripes. 

It clicks for you quickly—he sees himself as one of them. He wears his loyalty to the Na’vi. It’s… admirable. 

When he speaks again, he greets Max in English and makes an inside joke with Norm that flies over your head. He chucks his bag onto a nearby stool and smoothes his hands over his ash-blonde dreads. 

Inevitably, you’re curious to know more. Your thoughts buzz with questions—instinctively, you’d like to interview him. 

“Food’s ready!” Norm calls. 

That’ll have to wait. 

The room descends to orderly chaos. A scientist you’ve already forgotten the name of is gathering silverware. Another gives everyone a bowl or mug. Metal chairs scrape across the floor as people line up in front of the kitchenette. Mia is adamant about having her mug, which is bright pink with a broken handle. Norm serves stew with a metal ladle. Someone else passes out dethawed bread rolls from the walk-in freezer. 

They make jokes in passing. They ask each other questions. Occasionally, they bicker, like when one of the scientists scolds Norm for giving him too big a portion. They’re a family. It’s lovely, you think. 

Then Mia calls your name. “Please,” she says, “join us!”

The room quiets down. You briefly make eye contact with the semi-nude young male. He’s around your age—maybe a year or two younger. 

Entering the common area takes only a sliver of bravery in comparison to the courage you had to collect in order to survive thus far; it’s still scary, nonetheless. You gulp. 

You’re provided a bowl. Norm serves you a heaping portion of soup. Max pours you a glass of water from a large pitcher at the end of the table. You’re offered two dinner rolls—just this once, Mia says. People move their chairs to make room for you. Your heart swells. 

“This is-” Mia begins. 

Your interruption is far from rude—you introduce yourself instead. First and last name. 

---

Dinner runs its course. It began with juvenile questions; the community simply wanted to know more about you as a person. They never banked on someone taking one of the empty bunks. They were all being used as precious storage. What’s your name? Where did you come from?

The spotlight is uncomfortable—blinding, even—but you squint through it. You want to interview these people, but it’s your turn instead. 

When some of the scientists begin asking about the RDA, however, the group rears towards an unsettling interrogation. What was it like? they ask. How many were there? Could you spare any details on the escape plan?

With every intrusive question, you intake another mouthful of the fusion stew. It tastes funny, like a bad pun or cringey joke; but you’re too hungry to care. 

“Did you ever see the General?” The human male whom you now know as Spider asks. “She was short. Blonde lady, resting bitch-face. General Ardmore?” 

Mia snorts. Norm clasps his hands together. “Alright, everyone. I think that’s enough,” he states. "Let's not overwhelm the newcomer."

The scientists look at each other, humbled and slightly ashamed. They give you apologetic stares and quiet redresses. 

Max offers to do the dishes. He knows he’ll regret this act of selflessness, but he does it for you. The rest of the scientists leave their empty bowls at the table and retreat to the barracks. Mia pats your shoulder before exiting with the others. 

You turn to Norm once everyone’s left. You hold out your bowl. “Can I have some more?”

---

You’re on your third helping of soup and fourth glass of water when there’s a series of raps at the door outside the airlock. For a split second, you’re back in your cell. You’re reminded of your least favorite warden’s early-morning roll calls. 

You flinch—your body instinctively jerks. But you don’t realize this until you’re swiftly saving your water glass from falling off the table. You rub your brow with the back of your head; you can’t break two things on your first day. 

“Is it him?” Max asks Norm. Max is elbows deep in soap suds and dirty dishes. He starts scrubbing faster. 

“Think so,” Norm replies. 

Who’s him? You’re left to wonder as you scrape the bottom of your soup bowl and take your final bite; there’s no more stew left. 

Norm stands from the table and strides over to the airlock. “Come in!”

You nearly twist your neck trying to turn around before the door opens. 

A tall, blue humanoid enters. He has to crouch when breaching the threshold—the door frame is just too short. It’s the first Na’vi you’ve seen since your interaction with the Na’vi in the forest; spare for Grace, the one in a glass tube full of liquid in the common area. 

For a moment, you think this Na’vi is the one who saved you. But as they grab a respirator mask and enter once the airlock is closed, your assumption is proved to be false. 

The Na’vi nods to Norm. “Good to see ya, Max,” the male Na’vi says, peering into the kitchen. Notably, his English is fluent; but above that, his accent is strangely commonplace among humans. Nothing like the Na’vi from the forest. 

Max peers at him over his shoulder. “You too, Jake,” Max calls back. 

Your eye twitches. You face forward. Your visage pales. 

“Let’s talk about all of this for a moment,” Norm tells Jake Sully. He agrees. Their footsteps get quieter as they walk away from the common room and round the corner. Max dries his hands with a dish towel and follows them. 

You hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation while you chug another glass of water. 

“You’re sure?” Jake Sully asks. “Completely positive?”

“There’s no way,” one of the humans responds. “When she thought she’d been recaptured by the RDA, she tried to slit her wrists. A spy wouldn’t do that.”

Someone adds something to that point, but it’s indiscernible. 

“You’re right,” replies Jake. 

There are footsteps again. You keep your head forward. 

Max clears his throat. “You have a visitor,” Norm says. 

You push away the empty glass and bowl, then rise from your seat at the table. Your eyes meet pale yellow—the same shade as the other forest Na’vi’s irises. 

Jake opens his mouth to speak. “I’m-”

“You’re Jake Sully,” you interrupt. He’s like a myth come to life. During your imprisonment, the girls and wardens talked about him nonstop. He’s a Pandoran celebrity. 

Your face turns crimson. It’s one thing to interrupt Mia, but it’s another to interrupt the goddamn Olo'eyktan, the leader of his people. Not just any, but Jake Sully in particular. You’re mortified. 

You’re unsure how to greet him properly. Should you kneel? Your body scrambles to do the right thing—you bow, curtsey, and offer your hand to shake all at once. 

Jake Sully breathes into the respirator around his neck, veiling a small chuckle. He takes your hand and shakes it gently; due to his size, his engulfs yours. 

“Have a seat,” he says. You do.

Jake Sully can’t possibly fit in any of the chairs, so he defaults to sitting on the floor. “I may be asking for a lot,” he says. “But in order to grant you asylum here, I need to know everything.”

He is asking for a lot. You’ve been through nothing but hell. Your face heats up just thinking about the things you’ve witnessed. You don’t want to relive it. Maybe Norm stopped the others earlier because he knew this was coming. 

As you look into Jake Sully’s eyes, you know malignity isn’t his intention. It quite literally has nothing to do with you, actually. You know that the Olo'eyktan’s job is to keep his people safe. That’s Jake Sully’s motive. He has to know you’re safe. It’s a two-way street—in order to grant you safety, he must be able to ensure his own. 

---

You relay your history on Pandora thus far. It takes over an hour to get through everything. It doesn’t help when Jake asks a dozen questions, and tangents branch off into more tangents. Half-way through the conversation, however, you already know you’re earning his trust. You pinpoint the exact moment, in which Jake admits the reason he joined the RDA and decided to come to Pandora when he lived in a human body. 

It’s just the two of you now—Max finished the dishes a while ago and Norm left because he needed rest. 

Jake avoids your eyes every time you mention something particularly harrowing about your imprisonment. You’re as precise as you are descriptive. Towards the end of your testimony, he looks at his feet for ten minutes straight, while you reiterate the prison break. He can’t say much in response. He acknowledges that the ordeal must have been horrific. 

“Sounds like something out of this old dystopian novel,” Jake mutters. “I think it was called The Handmaid’s Tale.” 

Lastly, you tell him about the Na’vi in the forest who saved you. 

“Do you know him?” you inquire. 

Jake nods. “I do. His name is Neteyam.” He chooses not to elaborate. He omits the fact that Neteyam is his first-born son, next in line for his title. 

“Neteyam,” you echo. 

Jake nods again when you mimic his pronunciation. It’s not bad, he thinks. Not as bad as Neteyam said, when his son was harping on your horrible accent after bringing you, a human, to High Camp on his ikran. Something Jake never thought he’d see. 

“I’d like to thank him,” you say. “He saved my life. How do you say thank you or show gratitude?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should spend a week or two or three here. Take some time to yourself before you consider leaving the science shack and interacting with my people,” he says awkwardly albeit bluntly.

Your brows furrow. His tone of voice suggests there’s no room for protest. 

“Spider, Norm, Max, and everyone else will teach you the ways of the Na’vi,” Jake says. “They all speak the language fluently. And if you want to interact with and live amongst my people, then so will you.”

You nod. You consider telling him the very reason the RDA chose you and your talents—that that was exactly what you came to Pandora to do. “So I will,” you reply simply. 

“If you see us, then we will see you,” Jake says in Na’vi. 

You catch none of it, but nod confidently anyway. He scoffs. 

“Good talk,” Jake says lastly. He takes another breath through his respirator, then leaves through the airlock, just as he came. 

---

A/N: Feel free to leave any and all comments on this chapter! The exposition is almost done, just hold on a little longer! The exposition continues in the next part, but Neteyam will make an appearance, I pinky promise!

Next part is projected to come out a week from today, Tuesday. I will try to keep a consistent posting schedule.

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and notes thus far! <3

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

The Comfort of Strangers //Padawan! Obi-Wan X Fem! Reader

A/N: Well...Hi! I haven't written in two years! I'll post a little update soon but I was INCREDIBLY horny inspired after seeing the Phantom Menace in theaters! Hope you enjoy this lil smutty Padawn Obi fic!

Summary: You and all of Queen Amidala's handmaidens are stuck on Tatooine waiting for Qui Gon to get the hyperdrive parts you need. With all the stress and anxiety of escaping Naboo, the good-looking Palawan stuck on the ship with you looks like a good distraction.

Warnings VERY IMPORTANT: I know Padme and her handmaidens are pretty young, but for the purposes of this story READER IS OVER 18!!!!! That being said, this fic contains, smut, kinda a hookup, using sex with a stranger as comfort, risk of being caught, P in V action, unprotected sex, pull-out method, handy, some finger-banging action, dirty talk, some implied Qui Gon x Reader x Obi-Wan action for a minute there oop, and probably some spelling and grammar mistakes!

Word Count: 2.8 K

With the whirlwind of events that was the invasion of Naboo, one would think that boredom would bring some welcome relief. They would be sorely mistaken. 

The rush of adrenaline that had flooded your veins as you and the other handmaidens frantically dressed sabé, hands, and hearts a flurry, before chasing you up the ramp of the starfighter with gunfire at your back had finally subsided. Now, with the monotonous heat of Tatooine creeping into the ship, there was nothing but dull numbness left. 

Padme had left over a day ago to experience this strange outer-rim world you all had landed on. That left the rest of you with nothing to do but worry. Senator Vancil regularly sent updates urging Queen Amidala to contact him. Each of his messages was more dire than the last. News of your people in camps, starving, dying, surrounded by those damned battle droids, those disgusting Numoidions watching gleefully from the high walls of the Theed palace. 

You could practically feel all of the handmaidens' hearts sink in tandem with each new update. That young Jedi, Obi-Wan, simply reminded the Queen, (or who he figured to be the queen) to send no reply. Had he no empathy?! Obviously, none of you were dumb enough to risk the safety of your mission, the safety of your people, in transmitting any kind of message but could he not for a moment let down his Jedi knight persona and give you all some grace?

Jedi learner actually, I suppose. You thought to yourself. Curled up in an out-of-the-way nook, the hood of your orange handmaiden dress hung limply down your back. Normally you were grateful for the thick velvet robes in space, but even with the ship's cooling systems still online it seemed that they were no match for Tatooine. The oppressive heat sat thickly in the stale air, leaving everyone on board anxious and irritable. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. Between your fear and anxiety, the sight of that young padawan was a welcome distraction. You were positive you weren't the only one who thought so, you had definitely caught your fellow handmaiden's eyes flick over him from under their hoods. There was just something about him. Maybe it was the cocky banter he had shared with his master, even in the flurry of battle, or maybe it was the way the collar of his Jedi robes opened just enough for you to want to see more. Or perhaps it was the way you could imagine tugging on that padawan braid as- 

“Oh, apologies, I didn't realize there was anyone back here.”

You start, ripped from your thoughts by the man himself. He stood, palm braced against the doorway to your little hideaway. He’d discarded his Jedi cloak, leaving him the tan robes. 

“Sorry,” You say sheepishly. “Just…taking a breather.” Truth be told, in a ship this size there wasn't much space for ‘breathers.’ There's a beat of awkward silence before he clears his throat. 

“I assumed you would be with your queen and fellow Handmaidens in the royal quarters.” You resist the urge to scoff. Little did he know your queen was off in the deserts of Tatooine. 

“I think we’re all just processing that last message from the senator. I just needed a moment to myself I guess.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” He turns to walk away and you scramble for anything to keep the conversation going. 

“What’s it like being a Jedi?” You cringe at the question. He looks back over his shoulder at you. 

“Well, Padawan.” He corrects, sheepishly.

“Right, yes. What’s it like to be a Padawan?” He turned to face you full-on, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. 

“It’s a life of service and peace.” He says simply. “I am devoted to the service of the Republic and the force.” You hum in response. 

“What’s it like being a handmaiden?” He asks, a teasing edge in his voice. From this angle, with you still curled up on the floor, he towers over you, looking down at you with a seductive smirk that makes your stomach do cartwheels. 

“It’s a life of service and peace.” You repeat. “I am devoted to my queen, my people, and my planet.” 

“My, my, sounds like we have quite a few similarities.” You crack a weak smile. 

“Why not take a seat?” You offer, motioning towards the cramped bit of floor in front of you. “I highly doubt you have anything better to do.” He raises an eyebrow at you before obliging. “You must live in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, right?” You ask as he squeezes into the cramped space, his knees knocking against yours. 

“Indeed, Coruscant has been my home for as long as I can remember.” 

“I've always wanted to see Coruscant. My family went when I was very small but I don’t remember it. I always meant to visit. I just never thought it would be under such…dire circumstances.” There's another beat of silence. 

“How are you and the others fairing?” You pause, debating your response. None of you had discussed it with each other. Your grief was so profound, deep, and shared in the way only sisters know. There had been no need to speak of it. But perhaps voicing it would help. 

“I think this is going to be the hardest part. At least I, we, were all doing something by escaping the planet, almost getting shot down. But this, just waiting… maker it’s eating me alive.” He nodded solemnly. 

“I understand.” 

“Do you?” It’s not meant to be a cruel question, but definitely a pointed one. “I thought Jedi didn't do emotions?” 

“Jedi don’t do attachments. We are encouraged to feel emotions, they bring us closer to the force, closer to all the living things around us.” Maker, you wanted him closer. 

A part of you hated yourself for wanting distraction, for seeing the first person in front of you, and wanting to find that special kind of escape and comfort. But a bigger part of you craved the young man in front of you, the release from this monotonous boredom and anxiety. 

“And what about…entanglements?” You purposefully tap your knee against his, letting a sultry gaze flood your eyes. He straightened slightly, his quizzical gaze raking you over. 

“Is that really what you want?” His question wasn't accusative or disgusted but genuinely curious, soft, and gentle. The seductive fire in your eyes dies down slightly. Your eyes flick down to the floor.

“Is that so bad?” It comes out barely louder than a whisper. A gentle hand lifts your chin till your gaze meets baby blue eyes, nearly the same shade as the lightsaber you watched him wield earlier. Oh how his hands had moved with such skill and grace, you couldn't help but imagine how those calloused, practiced hands would feel running over your body. Obi-wan smiled. 

“If that's what you feel, then it’s not bad at all.” Abruptly he pulled back, the sensation of him leaving your bubble had you feeling cold even in the burning ship. “Yes, Jedi are allowed to have entanglements.” 

“Oh.” you flash him a sly grin, confidence slowly seeping into you. “Good to know.” 

“Indeed.” His eyes bore into yours, the tension between the two of you was electric.

“Well if you ask me,” You say, placing a hand on his knee. “We have quite some time to kill before your Master gets back with the parts we need, don’t you think?” Obi-Wan’s hand came up to play with the hem of your skirt. 

“I’d be inclined to agree.” 

“Why don't we kill some time then? Hmm?” Obi-Wan’s face lights up in a devilish smirk as his hands glide up to your waist.

“Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me.” 

You lean forward, a soft smile on your lips that matches his before the young Jedi captures your mouth with his. It’s not the quick frantic touches one would expect of a hidden tryst. It’s soft and comforting like you both know you need the solace of another, the soothing touches of a lover not the hard and fast pace of a quick fuck. 

You sigh against him, melting into his touch. Your hands slide over the expanse of his broad chest up to rest on his shoulders. One of Obi-Wan’s hands slides up over your spine, sending shivers through your body before he tenderly cradles your neck. His tongue teases the seal of your lips and you gladly let him in, pulling yourself closer to him as his tongue explores your mouth. 

Pulling you fully into his lap, you can feel the bulge in his pants press against you. Simply the thought of it makes you wet. You grind your hips against him testingly and he hums his encouragement. One of Obi-Wan’s hands moves to your knee. Ever so delicately he slides his hand upwards over your thigh, the hem of your dress pulled ever upwards with his movements. His hand resting on the bare skin of your upper thigh, he gently moves you to grind against him again. 

As you rut against him, Obi-Wan’s lips leave yours to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the expanse of your neck, and over the limited bit of collarbone exposed by your dress. You expose your neck to him with a sigh, letting your head fall back into the reassuring weight of his hand cradling your head. 

This was it. What you so desperately needed. The reassuring touches of another that sent electric currents through your body. The safety of being held in someone's arms. Here, in this little nook with Obi-Wan, even if it was for just a moment, was paradise. 

Your hands sneak their way between the two of your bodies. Reaching for his hand that gripped the pillowy flesh of your thigh, you guide him to rest it on your breast. Taking the queue, Obi-Wan gives your tit a gentle squeeze, smoothing his thumb in little circles over the fabric right where he knows your nipple is. 

You practically whine at the sensation, grinding against him even harder. Your hand comes to rest on his crotch. 

“Help me take these off?” Your voice comes out much more sultry than you expected. He flashes you a smile that makes your heartache. 

“Why of course.” Together, you work him out of his trousers so that his erection stands tall and proud, a tiny bit of pre cum already beading at his tip. Your mouth waters at the sight. Without another thought, you spit in your hand before reaching down to grasp the base of him. He sighs at the contact and without missing a beat you begin to slowly move your hand over the length of him. 

“Is that alright?” You ask, his hands slowly wandering over your thighs, ever closer to where you crave him. 

“A-a little harder if you don't mind darling.” A part of you swoons at the pet name, and a bigger part of you smirks at making such a fine, confident man stutter. 

You oblige, squeezing a bit tighter as you work his length and Obi-Wan throws his head back in bliss. 

“Oh yes, just like that.” Seeing an opportunity in front of you, you lean forward to kiss his exposed neck, his padawan braid tickling your nose. A small blush creeps up his neck and over his cheeks as you continue to pleasure him with your hand. 

Obi-Wan’s wandering hands finally reach under the skirts of your dress, his fingers dragging along the center of you, feeling the wetness that undoubtedly stains your undergarments. 

“Oh my, all this for me?” He teases.

“Just shut up and touch me please.” You groan. Obi-wan places a sweet peak to your cheek.

“How could I say no to someone as lovely as you?” If you weren't flushed before that comment certainly did it. His hands push aside your drenched undergarment, letting two of his fingers leave teasing touches across you, never once letting them brush your aching clit. 

“If I’d known you'd be such a tease I would have approached that master of yours.” You tease. Obi-Wan scoffs. 

“I’m not a tease, you’re just impatient.” He replies slightly breathlessly. “Besides,” He adds finally drawing little circles in your clit. He leans in close to whisper in your ear. “You must be very naive to think Qui Gon Jinn wouldn't be a merciless fuck.” 

For a brief moment, the thought of both of them pleasuring you enters your mind. The older Jedi taking you from behind while he instructs his learner on how to fuck your throat. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Obi-Wan capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, rougher than the last, full of need and lust. 

“Obi-Wan,” You pant breathlessly, pulling away from his kiss. “Fuck me.” He groans, taking his cock in his hand to line it up against your entrance. You shimmy forward, knees on either side of him before sinking down. 

You both sigh in unison, inch after glorious inch fills you up, stretching you out perfectly. He’s barely inside of you before you start moving, grasping his shoulder to help lift yourself on and off his cock. He grasps your waist, helping you move as you work yourself open on him. 

the two of you build up a steady rhythm, it’s all you can do to bite your lip and keep from your moans of delight escaping the room. Obi-Wan hits a certain spot inside of you that sends a sudden gasp from your lips. His hand quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.

“Careful now, wouldn't want the other handmaidens hearing, would we?” You whine quietly in agreement. He smirks. “Think you can handle yourself without me keeping you quiet?” You nod eagerly. “That's what we like to hear.” He practically coos, his hand leaving your mouth to work at your clit, heightening your pleasure tenfold.  

Every stroke of his cock inside of you leaves you a bigger mess than the last. You grind against him desperately, hungry for every touch, every current of pleasure he sends through your body, every sensation that takes you further and further from the predicament you’re currently stuck in. Everything was building up, threatening to spill over at any second. 

“M-make, I won't last muc-ch longer.” Obi-Wan sighs. His movements on your clit are frantic, his thrusts sloppy like that of a man on the edge. “Please, need you to cum for me.” He practically begs. He slots his head between your neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Need to feel you come around my cock.” 

He hits the perfect spot inside you as he whispers his filthy words in your ear, sending you right over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body, your cunt squeezing him like a vice, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. 

“Oh yes, just like that.” He works you through your orgasm, not even ceasing as you slump against him. It’s only when you push his hand away from your overstimulated pussy that he ceases. Reluctantly, you move yourself off of his cock, taking him in your hand and watching with immense satisfaction as he falls apart, spilling his seed over your thighs. 

You both sigh, sweat beading both your brows and the air between you hot and heavy with a mixture of your previous actions and the stale Tatooine air. 

Swallowing dryly you break the silence. “Thank you.” 

“Sincerely my lady, the pleasure was all mine.” He nods to the evidence of such on your thighs which raises a chuckle from you. You produce a handkerchief from a tucked-away pocket and start cleaning his cum from your thighs. 

A content quite settles over the two of you as you tidy up, helping each other straighten your clothing. As you tuck Obi-Wan’s padawan braid behind his ear, the high-pitched beep of a comlink interprets the tender moment. 

“Obi-Wan, are you there?” His Master’s voice sounds through the device on Obi-Wan’s belt. He gives your hand a slight squeeze as he picks up the com with the other. 

“Yes Master, any luck acquiring the part for the hyperdrive?” 

“I'm afraid the situation has grown more...complicated.” Obi-Wan sighs. 

“Why do I sense that we’ve picked up yet another pathetic life form?” Obi-Wan casts you an apologetic glance as his master continues. Tucking your hair back into your hood, you give him a small smile and nod for him to go. With a soft smile of his own in return, he turns toward to cockpit, the comlink in his hand updating him on the situation. 

With a sigh, you turn and walk back toward the quarters where you know the others will be. The dull ache of the tragic events around you was still present, but somewhat subdued thankfully. Who knew you could find so much comfort in strangers? 

Taglist:@rentskenobi @mysteryofkokoro @highpriestessrebek @sarapixieelliott08 @princessxkenobi @dexthtoyounglings @book-hoardingdragon​ @cosmic-rich​ @laserbrains @hugmekenobi @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @profkenobi

[vodika-vibes]

True Love

Summary: Fives is a man on a mission. His mission? Remind his riduur that she’s the only one for him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 828

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, full disclosure, this was supposed to be the event request for @l0nesome-dreams but I only read the first part of the request and went, yes, ideas, and only realized I went off the rails when I finished writing it, lol. SO. That will be properly written at a later point in time. So, uh, have a random Fives story?

The worst part of having a secret wife, is the fact that he can’t be as blunt to the people flirting with him as he’d prefer. The second worst thing is the fact that his brothers think that he’s lonely and needs help getting dates.

That leads him to this situation. Where an, admittedly pretty, woman is leaning into his personal space, and his mind is racing for what to say that won’t be too insulting, but also won’t out the fact that he’s a happily married man.

She leans further into his personal space, and Fives takes a half step back, keeping some distance between them. He glances at his chrono and his heart sinks. He’s late. 

His poor riduur is probably wondering where he is.

The woman leans closer to him, and Fives moves quickly to keep her from touching him, “Aww…you’re shy.”

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m really not interested.” He says.

“Your brothers said that you would say that.” She smiles at him, it’s a pretty smile, but Fives really isn’t interested in her. “I can go as slow as you like.”

“Again,” Fives says slowly, “I’m flattered, but not interested.” He glances at the chrono one more time, maybe, if he’s quick, he can stop at the bakery that his riduur likes so much and get her a lemon bar.

The woman huffs, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Fives grabs the chance with both hands, “Yes. Actually. And I’m late. If you’ll excuse me.” He almost makes it to the entrance of the Club before Rex flings his arm over his shoulder, “Son of a kriffing-”

“Where are you going, Fives?” Rex asks.

“Cap, Rex, I’m late. I have to go.”

“Oh? Have a hot date?”

Fives doesn’t answer, and he averts his gaze from his brothers, it’s a damned shame he isn’t a better liar, “I just have to pick something up before the store closes.”

“We went through all of this trouble to help you find a date, vod-”

“I’m not interested.” Fives blurts, “Not in her. Not in anyone you’ll ever pick for me. Rex, I have to go. I’m late.”

Rex presses his hand against Fives’ chest plate, “Late for what?”

Fives flounders, and then he sighs, “I was supposed to meet my wife half an hour ago, and if I leave now I can bring her a lemon bar from her favorite bakery to make up for being late. Can I go?”

“You’re married!?”

“REX!”

“Yes! Go.”

Fives pushes past his brother and out of the club.

He’s lucky, the bakery is still open when he arrives, and he’s able to get a whole box of the lemon bars his riduur prefers, before he runs home. He takes the stairs two at a time and impatiently keys in the door code before he stops in the front hallway.

Home smells like her. Like vanilla and flowers and everything good and nice in the galaxy that he never thought that he’d have. Home also smells like stew and fresh baked bread.

Fives quickly pulls his armor off, with one hand, and he heads into the kitchen. His riduur, his perfect beautiful Riduur, is still making dinner.

Thank the Force.

“I’m home,”

She turns and a bright smile crosses her face when she sees him, “Fives, welcome home.” She lays her spoon over the pot and turns to greet him with a hug, “You stopped at the bakery?”

“I know that I’m late-” Fives replies as he sets the box on the table, “So I stopped and got your favorite dessert.”

She giggles and presses a hand to her mouth, “I got a late start too, honestly. I’m sorry dinner isn’t ready.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” He settles his hands on her hips and leans in to lightly press his forehead against hers, “Rex and the others dragged me to 79s.” He admits, “They think, thought, that I was lonely.”

“Oh?”

“They set me up on a blind date,” Fives adds.

A glimmer of uncertainty crosses her face, “Was she pretty?”

“I suppose. I wasn’t paying attention.” He brings one hand up to brush her cheek, “I was thinking about you.”

She ducks her head, a blush crossing her face, “You’re a sap.”

“True.” Fives kisses her gently, “I had to tell Rex about you before he’d let me leave.”

“Oh, Fives-”

“It’s okay. I doubt I’ll get into much trouble.” He kisses her one more time, “Don’t you worry about it. You won’t get into trouble, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know. Don’t worry, Rex is reasonable.” He kisses her again and again, “Now, how much still needs to be done for dinner, and how can I help?”

“Um…a lot. How about you go shower and change, and you can help after?”

“Deal.” He catches her lips in one more kiss, “Love you, riduur.”

She sighs, a dreamlike smile on her face, “Love you more.”

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly Part 5

Enemies To Lovers

Robb Stark x Frey! Reader (F)

Summary: Reader and Robb do not enjoy each-others company, but it is mendable, and it is slowly mending, they are both, slowly understanding.

(Warnings none: this is a softer chapter)

AN: idk, i guess it’s a slow build if your into that stuff, any suggestions would help, i have so stuff planned, just need to figure out a timeline for those events.

——————————————————————————

The tension between you and Robb had started to wear you down, fraying at your patience and heart alike. After the conversation in your tent, the weight of the strained silence you shared seemed heavier, more burdensome than ever. That night, after a long stretch of quiet between you, you finally took a deep breath and looked at him with a small, hesitant softness you hadn’t allowed yourself to show before.

“Robb,” you began, voice quiet but steady, “I think we should start over. This hasn’t been easy on either of us, and I… I’d rather not live this way.” You met his gaze, surprised to see something softer flicker there. “Maybe we could at least try to be friends. Or, if that’s not possible… try to be kind to each other.”

For a moment, he seemed taken aback, his blue eyes fixed on you with something close to surprise. Then he nodded slowly, his expression softening, a hint of his guarded mask slipping away. “Aye… maybe we could,” he replied, his voice rough but genuine. “I’d like that.”

A small smile found its way onto your face, and after that, you both fell back into a quieter, gentler silence. It was a start and a fragile one at that but at least it was something.

In the days that followed, you threw yourself into archery, seeking comfort in the familiar, repetitive rhythm of drawing and releasing arrows. The bow was an old friend, a skill your brothers had passed on to you long ago, one that Walder Frey had sneered at but never quite forbidden. You could feel your mind clear with each shot, your muscles remembering the draw and release as if no time had passed. It was a welcome reprieve from the camp, from the eyes that watched you as Robb Stark’s wife, and from the tangled emotions that had come to fill your life since the wedding.

One chilly afternoon, while practicing on the edge of the training grounds, you spotted Robb across the field, walking alongside Talisa. She laughed softly at something he said, and he smiled down at her with a warmth you hadn’t seen him show anyone else. A pang of something sharp settled in your chest, but you pushed it aside, focusing back on your bow.

Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something flash. Another soldier practicing his aim had let loose a stray arrow that arched in the direction of Robb and Talisa, unintentional but deadly all the same. Without thinking, you nocked an arrow, took aim, and released. Your arrow shot through the air, meeting the stray arrow with a sharp clink, both tumbling to the ground in a harmless tumble of wood and feathers.

Heart racing, you hurried over to the spot where the arrows had fallen, aware that both Robb and Talisa had turned, eyes wide with surprise. You knelt and picked up the arrows, offering Robb a brief, almost apologetic nod before mumbling, “Apologies. Loose arrows… bad aim, I suppose.” Then, before you could let the tension stretch into awkwardness, you quickly turned and headed off, bow still in hand, not trusting yourself to look back.

Yet as you walked away, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his eyes following you, a quiet, lingering gaze that burned into your back. When you finally dared a glance over your shoulder, you saw Robb still watching you, an expression of disbelief and something else, something almost admiring etched across his face.

——————————————————————————-

The days turned into weeks, and slowly, something more than tolerance and polite words began to grow between you and Robb. He started seeking you out for conversations, and not just to exchange brief courtesies or to hear about the baby’s progress. Instead, he asked you questions about the running of the camp, listened to your opinions on morale, and even sought your advice.

As the weeks passed, your belly began to swell, the weight of the child becoming more noticeable with each passing day. The gentle curve of your abdomen grew unmistakable, and Robb, perhaps more mindful than he let on, seemed to remember it constantly. His hand would sometimes rest there when you spoke, fingers splayed protectively over the small bump, as if silently affirming both his duty and connection to you and the life you were carrying.

You still went to practice archery when you could, determined to keep some measure of independence and control. But as your fingers began to plump and your balance shifted, drawing the bowstring became more challenging. What once felt like an easy, natural motion now required careful focus, and even then, your aim was beginning to waver.

One brisk afternoon, as you struggled to keep your arrow steady, you heard a familiar voice call out from behind.

“Having trouble, my lady?” Robb’s tone was teasing but light, and as you turned, you saw a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You straightened, brushing a lock of hair from your face, and gave a small huff. “Only a little,” you admitted, casting an irritated glance at your slightly swollen fingers. “I was always good at this back home.”

He walked over, looking down at you with a slight smirk. “Looks like you’re blaming those stout fingers,” he said with a raised eyebrow. His voice was gentle, but there was a playfulness to his tone you hadn’t heard before, as though he found the situation as amusing as it was endearing.

“Stout?” you repeated, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, both embarrassed and indignant. “They’re just… adapting.” You wriggled your fingers in demonstration, but that only seemed to make his smile widen.

“Oh, of course,” he murmured, his smile turning softer as he took in the sight of you. Without warning, he stepped closer, and before you could protest, he moved behind you, positioning himself so his chest was against your back, his arms moving around you to cover your own.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and steady, guiding your hands with his as they settled around the bow. “Try it like this.”

The warmth of him at your back was overwhelming, and you tried to focus on the task at hand, though his presence made it hard to concentrate. His hands were firm, steadying yours as he adjusted your grip on the bowstring. He was close enough that you could feel his breath against your temple, his fingers covering your own as you struggled to draw the string back.

“Relax,” he murmured softly, his hands guiding you with a patient precision. “Focus on the target. Breathe in… then release.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but the embarrassment of your earlier miss, combined with the sudden closeness, made you fumble again. The string slipped from your fingers, the arrow dropping limply a few feet in front of you.

Robb chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that you could feel in his chest pressed against your back. “That’s a start,” he said, humor lacing his voice. “Though I don’t think the enemy will be trembling just yet.”

You rolled your eyes, a flush rising to your cheeks as you mumbled, “It’s these ridiculous fingers.” You glanced down at your hands, both apologetic and self-conscious.

He looked down at your hands as well, his own fingers sliding over yours as if in silent examination. “I’d hardly call them ridiculous,” he said, his voice softening. “Though, yes… perhaps a bit stout.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a faint smirk.

You felt the blush deepen, mortified but oddly charmed by the teasing. “You’re not helping,” you said, trying to hide your smile as you nudged him gently with your elbow.

He laughed again, his breath warm against the top of your head. “I’m only saying it because it’s true,” he replied, a grin playing at his lips. “Besides, I think they’re rather… well-suited. chubby or not.”

Before you could respond, he guided your arms back into position, his hands steady over yours as he adjusted your grip with surprising gentleness. You felt his chest press closer against your back, his warmth almost distracting you from the task at hand.

“Now,” he murmured, “just follow through this time. Draw, aim, release.”

With his hands covering yours and his voice a low murmur in your ear, you tried again, feeling steadier this time, even as your heart hammered in your chest. With his guidance, the arrow shot straight, striking close to the center of the target.

“There,” he said, his voice pleased. “See? All it takes is focus.” His hands lingered over yours for a moment, his fingers warm and solid, before he finally stepped back.

You turned to face him, feeling a bit breathless. “Thank you,” you said, unsure what else to add. But Robb only looked at you, his expression unreadable as he gave a small nod.

“Anytime,” he replied, though there was something softer in his gaze, something almost affectionate.

That evening was quiet, the camp subdued under a thick blanket of mist. Inside Robb’s tent, Catelyn watched her son with a keen gaze, her brow furrowed as she spoke, her voice low but unyielding.

“I’ve noticed you and your wife seem… better acquainted,” she remarked, her tone pointed yet gentle. “It’s good to see you speaking to her more often, Robb. She’s a bright girl, you know. Observant, strong in ways that I don’t think you’ve yet appreciated.” She paused, her expression softening slightly. “Perhaps it’s time to put the past aside and focus on this match, it could work, if you let it.”

Robb looked away, his jaw tight, as though wrestling with his own thoughts. “She’s… she’s alright,” he conceded, shrugging slightly. “I admit, she’s been more than I expected. She’s no coward, and there’s a wisdom to her that…” He trailed off, considering, but his tone hardened. “But I can’t let go of Talisa, Mother. I can’t… not her.” His voice softened, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

A tense silence hung in the air as Catelyn’s gaze sharpened, disappointment flashing in her eyes. Her voice grew colder, each word heavy with quiet judgment. “Robb, you’ve taken vows before gods and men. Vows that bind you to your wife. You have a child growing within her, your child, an heir to Winterfell.” She paused, folding her hands, as though to contain the strength of her disappointment. “If you’re wise, you’ll honor those vows and give your loyalty where it’s owed, not to some passing fancy. Do you want to dishonor her further?”

Robb’s head snapped up, his gaze troubled, but he held his ground. “Talisa isn’t a passing fancy,” he murmured defensively. “You don’t know her, Mother. She… she was with me when I had no one else. I can’t simply cast her aside.”

Catelyn took a step closer, her face tight with restrained anger. “And now, you have a wife. A girl who has sacrificed and suffered to be here, who is carrying your child and has earned the respect of this camp.” Her voice softened with a hint of pleading.

“Y/N is a young woman, forced into this, just like you. And she is proving herself worthy of your loyalty.”

He averted his gaze, the weight of his mother’s words sinking in, but he said nothing. Catelyn’s disappointment hung heavy between them, filling the silence with unspoken truths.

She shook her head slowly, a shadow of sadness crossing her face. “You are my son, Robb. But it pains me to say that you are letting me down.” She waited a beat, letting her words settle, then turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Robb alone with the growing ache of his thoughts, his heart torn between his past and his present.

——————————————————————————

tags!!

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[teapartyprincess4two]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR MATT BASED ON THE SONG HEARTBREAK GIRL BY 5SOS.

Idc how long it is (the longer the better)

pls pls pls I will sell my left foot to read it 🙏

Heartbreak Girl- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Taken!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst

warnings: pining, clueless reader, toxic relationship, jealousy, heartbreak, friendzone, slight cursing, use of y/n, unrequited love, mentions of cheating, panic attack, no happy ending (sorry, the song calls for it)

inspiration: request^^, Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS

summary: Matt’s in love with you, but you’re too in love with someone else to realize it.

Heartbreak Girl PT.1, PT.2

—

Matt’s phone rings loudly on his bedside table, waking him from his sleep. His eyes jolt open, the loud ringing scaring him. He knows who’s calling, but hopes it’s someone else this time so he can hang up without being eaten alive by the guilt. A sigh leaves his lips as he checks the caller ID, your name shining brightly on his phone screen. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he answers, “y/n?” Your sobs immediately fill the room as they emit from his phone speaker, he grimaces slightly at the loud noise and holds the phone away from his face.

It was always the same thing with you, you’d call him late at night complaining and crying about something your boyfriend, Mike, did. Matt would comfort you time and time again, advising you to just break up with that loser and sometimes you’d listen. You and Mike would break up, sometimes for as long as a week, but you’d always end up welcoming him back into you life at the slightest apology.

“What did he do this time?” Matt asks, another sigh leaving his mouth. He’s propped up on an elbow, his head hanging forward with his eyes shut as he tries fighting sleep. If you were anyone else he would’ve stopped picking up your calls a long time ago, but you’re his best friend and he feels a sense of responsibility for you. “First, he called me annoying and then we got in this big fight and then he left. He said he’s going back to his ex,” you hiccup, barely sounding coherent through your sobs.

Matt wants to scream into his pillow, was this not the same fight you had with Mike last week? “Well-” Matt begins, but is quickly interrupted by you. “He accused me of cheating too! Doesn’t he know I love him? I’d never cheat!” you exclaim through the phone, your words coming out a mile a minute.

Love. Matt cringed at the word, how could you possible love a guy who’s favorite pass time was making you cry.

Matt could tell you were entering a stare of hysteria, your breathing was erratic and you wouldn’t stop crying. “Alright, y/n. Try to calm down,” he whispers sternly, trying to bring you back to reality. With every late night phone call Matt gained more and more reasons to hate your stupid boyfriend. “Okay… I’m calm,” you reply, bringing your voice down and attempting to steady your breathing. He knows you’re faking it, but he appreciates that you’re at least trying.

“Okay, now telling me what happened,” he instructs, a part of him wanting to hear all the details of your argument so his hatred for your boyfriend would be more justified. You retold the events in excruciating detail, mentioning everything that was said and done. So much of it repulsed Matt, how could two people treat each other like that? He felt his heart breaking with each word, but the anger he felt was much stronger, “he really called you that?!”

Matt’s jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding against each other in the process. He heard your sniffles on the other side of the phone, a part of him wished he could just hold you. “Yeah, but he’s not that bad,” your voice was hushed, almost like you were afraid. You sounded scared to admit it, mostly because you knew Matt would get mad. You, of course, guess correctly because Matt replies angrily, “He’s not THAT bad?!?”

If he had any common sense he’d just hang the phone up now because there was obviously no getting through to you. But, a part of him is praying that one day you’ll realize what a loser Mike is and then maybe you’ll realize that he’s been here all along. “Well, I mean, it takes two to fight,” you reply in an attempt to defend your last statement. Matt rubs his temples, trying to massage his growing headache away.

“Y/n, stop being so naive,” he says harshly. At this point his anger has completely consumed him but he bites his tongue to stop the venom from spilling.

“Don’t be mean,” you mumble. There was no excuse for Mike’s behavior, not that you were much better, but you couldn’t let this become your forever. “I’m not being mean. I’m being real,” he replies, his voice softening a bit when he realizes how harsh his words sounded.

A brief silence settles in the conversation, but Matt can hear soft mumbling in the background. Matt assumes you’re talking but somehow the audio got muffled. “I can’t hear you,” he says, turning the volume up on his phone. The mumbling gets a little louder and then suddenly he hears it, it’s Mike. He must’ve come back once he cooled off, he’s sure to reel you back in with broken promises and empty apologies.

“Matt, I have to go. Mike is here,” you whisper into the phone, clearly scared to be caught venting your problems to your best friend. Mike, Mike, Mike. What was so special about Mike anyways? Sometimes, if Matt repeated the name enough it almost sounded like his own name. Matt, Matt, Matt. He wished it was.

He wants to beg you to stay on the phone, but he knows there’s no use. All he can do is advise you to choose better and hope that this time you’ll listen, “y/n, don’t do anything stupid.” There’s a lot of shuffling coming from your end, if Matt closes his eyes he can imagine every single movement. “Okay, bye friend. Love you,” you say quickly.

Friend. That is a word Matt will be reduced to for the rest of his life. He wants to be more than that with you, but a part of him knows that you two will be stuck going in circles again and again. You fight Mike, you break up, you cry to Matt, you make up with Mike, and Matt’s lost his chance with you yet another time.

Before he can reply he hears the phone click, you hung up. He knows that you’re probably already reconciling with Mike and even though it makes him mad, it mostly makes him feel helpless. Matt tosses his phone back onto his bedside table before dramatically falling back onto the bed. He knows that if you just opened your eyes you’d realize that he was here all along, that he’d never hurt you.

But, despite his better judgement, Matt will keep picking up your phone calls because he’s a sucker when it comes to you.

—

The sound of arcade games echo around the building as Matt and his brothers walk around the arcade in an attempt to find the perfect game. They only had a few tokens left, so they had to spend them wisely. You were there too, but you were so immersed in Mike’s presence that it was like you weren’t. Matt had invited you in hopes to finally get you alone, away from Mike. But, that stupid guy followed you like his life depended on it. You were so enthralled by Mike that you hadn’t even played a single game, even Nick and Chris found it annoying.

“What about ski ball?” Chris suggests, the three of them had lapped around the arcade a billion times and still couldn’t find the right game. “No,” Nick says, peering around the arcade for a better game. “Bumper cars?” Chris suggests again, running out of options to say. “We don’t even have enough tokens for that,” Matt scoffs, joining Nick as he looks around the room.

“Fine you pick,” Chris grumbles, leaning against the nearest game as he waits for his brothers to choose. As they’re surveying the room, Nick and Matt see you in the corner talking with your boyfriend. You two seemed to be caught up in an argument like usual, earning an eye roll from Nick. “I don’t know what she sees in that guy,” he comments, trying to read your lips to see what the argument is about. “I hate that guy,” Chris chimes in, joining his brothers in their watch party.

Matt hums in agreement, not wanting to say too much in regard to the situation. He can only assume that you did something Mike didn’t like and now you’re getting in trouble for it. The conversation seems to get heated enough for you to storm off, making your way towards the triplets. “Oh shhh- she’s coming, she’s coming,” Chris warns, trying to act casual.

Nick does the same, leaning against the machine closest to him. Matt’s eyes widen, all he can think to do is turn quickly on his heel to face his brothers. They immediately engage in a fake conversation in attempt to convince you that they weren’t watching. It seems to work.

“Ah yes, McDonalds does have the best chicken nuggets. Good point, Chris,” Nick says as he looks towards his brothers expectantly, but you’re so mad you don’t even notice the ridiculous conversation topic. “Guys you can have my tokens, I’m leaving,” you say, not even introducing yourself with a hello. You pull the tokens out of your pocket, dumping them all in Chris’s hands. He was so excited to have more tokens that he didn’t even care you were leaving.

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, watching as you hurriedly try to get rid of all your tokens. “No, bro. Stupid Mike, dude. He got mad that I wanted to play so he brought up his ex again, can you believe that?” you scoff, still fishing for more tokens in your pockets. Why was every argument you had with Mike about his ex?

“Gross. Why are you leaving though? You haven’t played a single game,” Nick asks, taking a few tokens from Chris for himself. He and Chris also disliked your boyfriend because you two were always fighting about stupid stuff. But, they weren’t as involved in your love life as Matt was, so they didn’t know how often you two were actually fighting. “Cause he’s my ride and he said he’s leaving,” you grumble, finally looking up from your pockets to look at your friends.

“We can take you home,” Matt suggests, not wanting you to leave just yet. He says it so quickly and eagerly that his brothers give him a weird look, he catches it and coughs awkwardly. “I mean, if you want to stay,” he mumbles in an attempt not to seem so desperate.

You look between your friends and the arcade entrance, trying to decide whether you should stay or go. Matt bites his tongue, trying to prevent himself from saying something he’ll later regret. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and scream that you should just leave that stupid loser.

“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” you attempt to reason as you check your phone for the time. It was only 5pm, but your heart really wanted to follow Mike before he decided he was done with you for real. Upon checking the time, you see a message from Mike that made your stomach turn.

Mike: I left. have fun with your friends. we’re done.

Matt watches as your expression completely drops, you look like you just got the life sucked out of you. “Did he leave?” Matt asks softly, not trying to upset you more than you already were. You shove your phone into you pocket and put on a fake smile, ignoring his question. “It’s only 5, we got time,” you say excitedly, trying to pretend like you didn’t just receive the most heart breaking message ever.

Nick and Chris don’t know any better, so they immediately perk up at this and drag you back into the arcade. Matt, on the other hand, can read you like the back of his hand. He sees how your shoulders slump and how a frown replaces your smile when you think no one’s looking.

Throughout the whole night he wants to scream out, ‘you can be with me now!’ But he knows that you’re not ready, maybe you’ll never be ready. And that, to Matt, is so frustrating.

—

For the rest of the night the boys work towards distracting you from Mike. They use your tokens to win as many games as possible. Matt is focused primarily on convincing you you should leave Mike for good this time. He watches as you attempt to get the basketball into the net as he says, “I’m just saying, you’d be much happier without that guy.”

You fumble with the basketballs in front of you, missing each shot terribly, but welcoming the distraction from the conversation Matt was trying to have. He watches as you roll your eyes and continuing trying to play the game, “tell me one good thing he’s done.” This statement catches you off guard, you’re sure that Mike is a good guy, but for some reason you can’t think of a single good thing he’s done.

You scoff at Matt, throwing the last basketball at the net only for it to hit the rim and fall out. “He does a lot of good things,” you reply annoyed, watching as the machine disperses your tickets. All you earned from this game was 8 tickets considering you missed more than half the shots. “Okay, then name one,” he retorts, ready to challenge you whether you liked it or not. Your mind is racing trying to think of one good thing Mike has done that Matt would find valid, but you still can’t think of one.

Annoyed, you snatch the tickets from the machine, accidentally tearing the last one in half in the process. Matt watches you, noticing how the frustration seems to get the best of you. He knows you won’t be able to think of a single good thing Mike has done, especially not after he ditched you here to fend for yourself. “See, you can’t even think of one. He treats you so bad, y/n. You don’t deserve that, you deserve someone who’ll treat you right,” Matt says, the both of you walking in the direction where you last saw Nick and Chris.

“Oh yeah? Who would that someone be?” you retort, looking around the entire arcade in search of Nick and Chris. You desperately needed to find them so they could serve as a buffer between you and Matt right now. He was asking too many uncomfortable questions and honestly was starting to push your buttons, he doesn’t know Mike like you do. “I mean, I’ve always treated you right,” Matt’s reply is so bold that it even catches him by surprise, what the hell was he even saying right now? He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak and the friendzone, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

You look at him briefly, a little shocked that he’d even say that. I mean, you two have been best friends for so long that a relationship with Matt would be like dating a brother. The thought is weird, but you don’t want to offend him, “yeah, but you’re my best friend. Friends are supposed to be nice to each other.” Each time you say friend it feels like a stab to the heart. He seemed to be stuck in the friendzone again and again.

“Y/n! Matt!” Nick calls out from the ticket machine, both he and Chris feeding their tickets into it. You perk up at the sight of them and walk over immediately You feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see them, finally you’ll be able to escape this awkward situation Matt put you in. Matt can’t help but feel sad, but he tries not to show it.

“We’re gonna get a remote control car!” Chris says excitedly, referring to the prize they were going to cash in for using all their tickets. Without another word he takes all yours and Matt’s tickets so he can feed them into the machine. You chuckle at this, finding it amusing.

Matt offers a small smile.

—

After redeeming your prizes, the four of you decided it was time to head home. You picked out a giant plushie while the three of them combined their tickets for Chris’s remote control car.

Matt pulled up to you house reluctantly, wishing he could kidnap you and take you to their house once he saw Mike’s car parked outside. “Mike’s home?” Chris asks you casually as soon as Matt places the car in park. “Yeah, guess so,” you reply as you unbuckle yourself, trying not to sound too excited. Deep down you were bubbling with emotions, mostly happiness because if Mike is home that means he’s definitely not done with your relationship.

“Bye guys, I had so much fun!” you dismiss yourself eagerly, all you want to do is go inside and reconcile with your boyfriend. Nick and Chris bid you goodbye but Matt stays silent, he doesn’t want you to leave. You hug Nick in the back seat and pat Chris’s shoulder as you open the car door. You offer Matt a small, awkward smile before grabbing your plushie and hopping out of the car.

Matt feels so defeated, if he weren’t such a pushover when it came to you he’d tell you the truth. The truth is that Mike is leading you on, playing with your feelings, abusing of emotions, and flaunting you around like a trophy when he feels like it. The truth is that Matt is in love with you and has been since the first time he saw you, but he’s too scared to ruin your friendship to admit it.

Matt watches as you walk up to your front door, plushie tucked under your arm. There’s an eager pep in your step that makes Matt want to throw up. Chris is scrolling through his phone, forgetting about you as soon as got off the car. Nick is watching Matt, confused as to why he looks so sad. “Are we gonna move? I’m fucking hungry, dude,” Chris groans from the passenger seat, throwing his head back dramatically against the car seat.

You were inside already, but Matt stayed outside your house and watched as the lights in your house turned on one by one. He knew you were searching the house like a madwoman for Mike. “Can you drive?!” Nick chimes in, grabbing Matt by the shoulder to break him from his daze. Matt’s eyes remain trained on your bedroom window, watching as the light turns on and your shadow comes into view as he responds, “yeah, sorry.”

He puts the car in drive, slowly letting the car roll down the street. Matt’s breath hitches as Mike’s shadow comes into view, he’s praying that you’ll just run out of the house and back into the car. The car is slowly rolling down the street, Matt’s foot hovering over the break in an attempt to slow the car down even more. Your shadow and Mike’s meet for a hug and soon enough you’re kissing. Matt’s foot slams on the break suddenly causing the car to jolt forward, he knew it was coming but it didn’t hurt any less.

“What the fuck Matt?!” Chris exclaims, looking up at Matt in bewilderment. The seatbelt was choking him slightly and his phone flew off his lap. Nick’s head hit the front seat headrest slightly, causing him to gasp in surprise. “Matt what the actual fuck are you doing?!” Nick yelled, meeting Matt’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

There was no way Matt was about to admit that he was watching you through your window. So, he made up the quickest lie he could think of, “Sorry. I got a cramp.” He offered both his brothers a fake smile in hopes that they’d believe his lie. It seemed to satisfy them seeing as they rolled their eyes and returned to their phones. Matt took his foot off the break, looking back at your house one last time.

The lights were off.

—

Matt doesn’t hear from you until two days later. You called him at 12pm, which was completely uncommon for you to do. You were usually calling him at 12am, breaking him from his deep sleep to rant about Mike.

“Hello?” Matt answers the phone immediately, if this is another call about Mike and his stupid actions he’s ready to be honest this time. “You busy?” You ask, propping the phone between your shoulder and your face so you can freely look through the racks of clothing in front of you.

Matt examines his surrounding, trying to decide whether he’s truly busy or not. He’s not. “Mmm not really. Why?” He asks, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking over to his room. He hears the metal hangers scraping against the clothings racks in the background before you reply, “wanted to see if you were down for lunch.”

This was the first time you’d asked him to hang out since dating Mike. He couldn’t fight the smile that grew on his face. “Just you and me or Nick and Chris too,” he needed to sound casual, but he was kicking himself for even mentioning Nick and Chris. What if you said yes to inviting them and his time alone with you turned into a group hangout?

“Up to you, I was hoping for it just to be us,” you reply, picking a shirt off the rack. You examine it carefully as you try imagining yourself in it. You decide you don’t like it and put it back. Matt is doing a silent happy dance on the other side of the phone, he feels like this is his chance to tell you the truth. Plus, you don’t seem to be upset with Mike which means that the conversation probably won’t revolve entirely around that loser.

Matt calms himself down, taking a deep breath before replying, “Cool yeah. Should I meet you somewhere?” He’s trying to act casual, but there is no such thing as casual for Matt when it involves you. “You can. Or I can pick you up?” You reply, walking out of the store and to your car. You walk the street cautiously, thanking the people who let you pass with a small hand wave. For you, this conversation really was normal. Just a friend asking another friend to go out to lunch.

For Matt, this conversation felt like the beginning of something new. A new relationship with you, a new attempt at admitting his feelings, even a new outlook on life. He felt positive. “Yeah that works. Are you close?” He has the biggest smile on his face as he looks through his closet for the perfect outfit.

“I’m like 10 minutes away,” you say mindlessly, pausing as you dig through your purse for your keys. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay? Love you, friend,” you finished saying once you found your keys and unlocking your car.

There was that word again. Friend. It made Matt shudder, but he tries ignoring it. He wasn’t going to let that sour his mood. “Alright, bye. Love you too,” he replies, but he means it. He intentionally doesn’t call you friend in hopes that you’ll take the hint.

All you do is hum in response and hang up. It breaks Matt’s heart, but he ignores it.

—

You pick Matt up, arriving to his house exactly 10 minutes later. The two of you decide on a restaurant, engaging in light conversation throughout your meal. Matt couldn’t find the courage to confess to you, especially not with the thought of Mike looming over him.

Matt felt incredibly anxious, his mind racing uncontrollably with all the possible outcomes of tonight. He could confess and it could go one of two ways, you could feel the same or you could reject him for Mike like all the times before. Or he could keep it to himself and remain in the friendzone forever.

The two of you are now walking back to your car, ready to call it a night. “Thanks for coming out with me,” you say with a smile as you hop into the drivers seat. Matt follows suit, getting into the passenger side before replying, “of course, anything for you.” The comment was simple, but it had so many underlying messages that he wished you’d pick up on. ‘Anything for you.’

You seem to pick up some sort of message because you reply with a chuckle, “you’re always saying sappy stuff like that Matt.” He gulps nervously, was this his chance? You start the car, the radio playing dully in the background. The noise replaces the previous silence, only adding to his own frustration, especially because he hated this song. He couldn’t decide whether to do it or not.

“I hate this song,” you mumble, changing the station to another song quickly. He takes this as a sign, a sign to just bite the bullet and spill it all. He needs to start off slow though, if he’s too abrasive it’ll scare you, “so, how are you and Mike doing?”

You two hadn’t spoken about Mike the entire night and for good reason too. The night you got back from the arcade he made a bunch of empty promises, adding in a bunch of fake apologies in between. You, of course, ended up forgiving him only for him to mess up again the next day. So, you decided you were finally done with him and broke up with him for good. Usually when you two would break up you’d allow him back into your life within hours, but this time you blocked him on everything and forced him to move out. Today was your first day as a truly single woman and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You were repulsed by men and decided you were going to be single for a while.

“We broke up actually,” you say calmly, making a long story short. Matt knew all the details of your previous arguments with Mike so there was no point in explaining the obvious. He’s in shock, actually in shock. This is the first time you’ve ‘broken’ up with Mike and weren’t completely hysterical about it.

“When did this happen?!”

You turn the corner onto Matt’s street, nearing his house slowly. “Yesterday morning. I kicked him out and he’s coming for the rest of his stuff tomorrow,” you say like it was the most normal thing ever. How were you so calm? So casual?

Mike moving out was the best news ever, that means that it’s real this time. “Wow. How are you?” he asks. He needs to test the waters before diving head first, especially if he’s going to confess something so important.

“I’m okay. Honestly, I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. I’m just ready to be single,” you reply, placing the car in park in front of his house. He digests the information, trying to come to terms with the fact that you want to be single. “Right now I’m repulsed at the thought of men. I’m just so done crying over guys, you know? I’m ready to just hang out with my friends and be free.”

“I’m a man. Are you repulsed at the thought of me?” Matt asks in an attempt to make light of the information you just dumped on him. He’s trying not to freak out right now. “No, dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different,” you reply, the words cutting into Matt. Everything you just said felt like an insult.

The car is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you know what to say after that. The same song from earlier plays, the song you hate and suddenly it feels more like a bad omen to Matt. You cough in an attempt to break the tension, but Matt remains silent, he feels like he can’t breathe right now.

“Well I had fun today, Matt,” you finally say, unlocking the car so he can use it as an excuse to escape this situation. You don’t know why the conversation suddenly became so awkward, all you know is that this felt weird and you didn’t want to sit in it for longer than you had to.

“Me too,” he replies meekly, struggling to unbuckle himself. “Here let me help,” you offer, reaching towards his seat to help him with the buckle. It all becomes too much as he pushes your hand away, “stop. I got it.” You look at him in shock. What was his problem?

Before you can comment on his behavior, he opens the car door and stumbles out. He can’t seem to leave this situation fast enough. You watch in confusion as he walks into his house without another word. You are worried, but decide he’s just being dramatic and drive off.

Once he’s inside he feels the emotions intensify as he immediately collapses onto the floor. He’s out of breath and his head is ringing with the words you said, ‘No dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different.’ He’s hyperventilating at this point, the tears flowing uncontrollably down his face as heaves in an attempt to catch his breath.

Nick and Chris who were in the living room hear this and immediately bolt towards Matt. “Matt? What’s wrong?” Chris asks frantically, getting on his knees to be eye level with his brother. Matt doesn’t respond, instead he grabs onto his Chris and pulls him in for a hug and sobs into his shoulder. He’s desperate for comfort, but nothing seems like enough. Chris understands what his brother needs, holding him tightly in an attempt to console him.

“He’s having a panic attack, let’s take him to his room,” Nick says equally as frantic, squatting in front of his two brothers so he can rub Matt’s back. Chris and Nick attempt to pick Matt up, but he’s glued to the floor, still holding on to Chris for dear life.

“It’s okay buddy, I got you,” Chris says calmly, not wanting to escalate the situation any further. Matt continues to cry, allowing his brothers to comfort him. “Deep breaths, Matt. Deep breaths,” Chris instructs, pulling Matt off of him slightly so he can get it together. Matt nods his head, using all his will power to stop crying and focus on his breathing. Finally, he’s able to calm down and his sobbing is reduced to sniffles.

“Wanna talk about it?” Nick asks lovingly, sitting next to Matt on the floor and rubbing more circles onto his back. “No,” Matt replies, his voice hoarse from all the crying. He looks down at his hands and plays with his rings to occupy his mind. “That’s okay, we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Chris chimes in, taking a seat on the other side of Matt. He rests his head on Matt’s shoulder, patting his thigh to signify that he’s willing to sit here with him for as long as necessary.

“Thanks,” Matt replies sadly, resting his head against the wall behind him. He’s never felt as defeated as he does right now. He’s stuck in the friendzone again and again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Honestly such a great request, but I had to keep re-listening to the song to write a story as accurate as possible to it. That’s why there’s no happy ending because the song clearly states that he’s stuck in the friendzone again and again, but I’m willing to do a pt.2 with a happy ending or just a diff outcome. Hope you enjoy.

Also, I’ll be expecting the foot

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 4

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise

Summary: The group arrived at the CDC and were welcomed by Dr. Jenner, that asked just for blood samples so they could stay there. The group ate better than they have been eating in weeks and also drank a lot. Y/N and Daryl talk about the past while they share a bottle of whiskey and things get just a little bit out of control.

Warnings: swearing, little angsty, fluffy, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), a hot kiss 🥵, Minors do not interact. Nothing extremely sexual and detailed, but if disturbs you in any way it’s better not to read. Maybe some characters are ooc, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,877

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. ALSO, I’m very nervous about the path this chapter went so I’d be glad if you told me what you think.

As soon as the door opened everyone entered, but there was no one. Where were the person that opened the damn door? After some minutes a man appeared, gun on his hand and he just lowered when you proved you offered no danger. His condition to give you shelter, was to take blood samples of all of you to examine. A fair price for a scientist, how could you deny?

After you picked everything you needed from the cars, the man named Jenner, closed the metal doors and you followed him to get your blood samples taken. You were not over joyed to get your blood taken, because normally your veins were pretry dificult to be found and people would end up torturing you with a needle until they found your vein.

“You’ll probably find my vein here.” You said pointing to a place one inch from your elbow. Yeah, your vein was easy found in a very strange place. “My veins are difficult to find, that’s why I’m telling you.” ‘And because torture is not my kind of entertainment’, you thought.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only do it when I’m sure I found it.” He tried to make you calm. And he didn’t lied, he really waited till he found it and then he collected your blood without much trouble or pain.

He took everybody’s sample and then took you to the kitchen. A full supplied kitchen with good food, alcohol, water and all the appropriate devices to prepare anything.

“Glenn, did we die and I didn’t notice? Cause this looks a lot like heaven.” You commented with the young man.

“If we did, I didn’t notice it too.” He replied. God! You didn’t think you would miss so much having a kitchen with all the appliances you were used to.

You prepared the food together and the drinks were served. Everybody was so happy, having a good meal, drinking and chatting. There was a long time you didn’t feel such a light atmosphere. You all joked and smiled, maybe the alcohol was helping a little.

“Hmmm, never thought I’d taste such delicious wine again.” You commented next to your brother.

“Go easy on the alcohol sis.” Rick told you, as if he knew how to drink.

“Shut up Rick, you know I can handle alcohol better than you.” You said making him have a good laughter, in no way you were a better drinker than him. “Hey! Let a woman have her dreams.” Everyone joined Rick on his laughter, brightening the room with joy.

Very reluctantly Lori gave Carl permission to taste a little of wine, and he hated, so she was happy. Glenn was getting drunk for the first time and all of you were encouraging him, even Daryl, which was really funny to see him all lose and even smiling, genuinely and openly smiling. Alcohol was a dangerous thing, but it could also show you things you didn’t know about other people, good and bad. You sneaked some appetizers to Luna, which she gladly took.

When dinner was over Jenner showed you around, there was rooms where all of you could stay, and bathrooms with hot shower. Oh my God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you took a hot bath. You claimed one of the rooms and went directly to the bath.

You took your time in the bath, washed your hair, let the hot water fall against your back and relax your muscles. It was so good, it had been only two months and you already missed this little luxuries from the old world so bad. When you finished drying yourself, you brushed your hair and put some comfortable clothes, your sleeping shorts and a tank top. Then, you missed something important, where was Luna?

You left your room and passed looking on the rooms that had the door open. You saw Carol putting Sophia to sleep and you couldn’t help, but smile. They deserved happiness and you were glad they were safe here, as you were glad you family was here too.

“Carol, did you see Luna? I can’t find her.” You asked her from the door.

“No, I just came from the rec room with the kids and didn’t see her. Maybe she’s with Rick or Shane?” She suggested, you didn’t know. You didn’t want her messing around in an unknown place.

“Ok, thanks. Gonna continuing looking for her. Have a good night Sophia! And you too Carol, rest yourself.”

“Have a good night Y/N/N” they replied.

You continued looking in the rooms that you could see open, but she was nowhere. You saw the door of Daryl’s room half opened and decided to knock, maybe he saw her somewhere.

“Come in” you heard he say, and you were not expecting the scene. He all cleaned up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his back on the wall, sitting in the sofa and Luna all over him.

“Am I interrupting something?” You asked playfully, Luna looked at you and swinged her tail, but she didn’t move from where she was.

“Not my fault she likes me better.” He took the bottle to his mouth all cocky.

“Seriously, I’m already thinking about giving you her custody. It’s obvious she doesn’t love me anymore.” You dramatized sitting on the sofa right next to him.

As soon as you touched the couch, she came all your way with her cold nose, and she laid on both your laps. “I think she wants to say that she likes us both.” You stated.

“Want some?” He offered you the bottle of alcohol.

“Is this even a question? Just give me the bottle Dixon.” You take the bottle and take it to your lips, whiskey was not exactly your favorite drink, but having the alcohol in your system was too good. Just not having to worry about being sober and ready to fight at any moment.

You stayed a long time in silence, just passing the bottle around and sipping from the drink. Here it was, that comfortable silence that you used to share and right now you could do it without worrying much. You rested your head back on the wall and looked at his profile, he was handsome and also cute, you felt kind of lucky for being able to take a look at this pretty serious grumpy face everyday.

“What did ya do before all this?” He asked and sipped on the bottle.

“You mean before I became a professional Zombie killer?” You joked, a bitter taste in your mouth having to talk about your failed career. “I was a vet. What about you?”

He looked at Luna and nodded like it made a lot of sense since you had Luna, but in fact anyone could have an animal. “I’d go around with whatever shit Merle was up to. In few words, I was a nobody. I had nothing as cool as you had.”

“Don’t say this. You weren’t a nobody. In fact, when it all happened, I was unemployed. So if you were a nobody, I was just like you.” Your head still resting on the wall, your eyes still on his profile and you thought how could he think so low of himself.

“Ya weren’t nobody, princess.” He turned to look at you and you swear that your heart skipped a bit when you looked in his cute baby blue eyes. “Ya just didn’t have a job.”

“So didn’t you.” He didn’t understand why you’d try to cheer him up and tell him he was more than what he actually was. Since he could remember he knew everyone thought that the Dixon’s were no good. Nobody wanted to be around his brother or him, and it didn’t change at the quarry. And why should it change now? He’d always be what he was, but you seemed to look at him with a whole different look than anybody else and you never told he was no good or a piece of shit… you mostly had good things to tell him, even when he was a dick with you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, D.?” You looked at him and you almost could see all the gears working in his mind. You still looked in his eyes, both of your heads resting in the wall.

“Ya think I’m better than I am.” He also looked in your eyes and tried to see anything that showed you were fucking with him, but he didn’t. You were like Rick, you had honest eyes and couldn’t hide your emotions at all even if you tried. And at the moment you didn’t have any bad emotion in your face.

You wanted to say that he thought too low of himself, that he was better than he thought. You could see it, but it was not like you were good with words, and in the last 24 hours you got him upset more times than you would like, even if he was the asshole in one of them. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you couldn’t put yourself to look away from his face, and now your eyes wandered all over his face, from his handsome eyes, to his lips, the small freckles under his eyes and the cute mole above his lips… God! You really wanted to kiss him, and your intoxicated brain could not think straight, if you were sober you’d never have the courage you were feeling at this moment.

He was no different from you, not that he had never spent any time admiring your features, he had done it many times. Your beautiful eyes, your nose, your lips and even your jaw. God, if ever existed one, he had thought more than he would like to admit about running his mouth over your jaw, your lips… kiss, lick and even bite your neck. But before, you were never this close to him and he had never got this drunk with you or near you. He had not felt like this before, like if he didn’t touch someone or were close to someone… he wouldn’t be able to breath. He thought it was pathetic, well that was what Merle would say, because feelings was something only pussies did. The alcohol in his body talked stronger than Merle’s voice in his head, and all he could think was that your faces were a few inches from each other and that he could feel your warm whiskey breath and the smell of your clean hair, and when you crashed your lips against his, he wasn’t able to control anymore.

You pressed your lips against his and you didn’t expect he’d kiss you back, you expected him to push you away and tell you to fuck off. But once your lips were on his, he kissed you back. Your hand went to his face and caressed him, while his hand went to the back of your head pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but feel more invested into the kiss, your lips moving in sync, your tongue caressing his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but open his lips and let you deepen the kiss, take your way, do whatever you wanted to do… He was completely at your mercy and at this moment he wasn’t even ashamed of admiting it, at least for himself. It didn’t take much longer for you to part from the kiss, you needed to breath. You pulled apart slowly, forehead against forehead, heavy breaths and rosy moistured lips. You were so into the kiss that you didn’t even noticed that Luna had gone to the floor, your bodies were much too against each other and one of your legs were on top of his.

When the reality hit, of what had just happened, he pushed himself to the farthest side of the sofa from you. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done this.” He got up and were about to leave the room, but you were faster holding his hand.

“Daryl, you can’t leave your own room.” You said getting up and trying to look into his eyes as much as it was possible standing up, since your height difference. “If someone have to leave, it must be me.” He didn’t say anything, red cheeks and trying to piece everything that just happened together. “I iniciated it. The fault is on me. Did I kiss bad? Did you not like it?”

“No, it was good. It’s not…”He tried to find his words, but his thoughts overflowed his mind while his brain separated the things he could say and the things he couldn’t. “We’re friends, friends don’t do it.” He had never called you a friend out loud, but this was the perfect time to say it instead of saying how fucked he was and how he didn’t know how to do emotions, he didn’t believe in love or that he could be loved, and how you two getting involved like this would just fuck the whole group.

“Well… when friends get drunk shit happens sometimes. Never happened to me, but… there’s a first time for everything.” You over explained a little, because you were kind of nervous. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame yourself and don’t worry too much. There was a long time I didn’t had a good kiss and you were just too cute... I’m sorry.”

“I did it too, ya don’t need to be sorry.” He averted your gaze, shy, still concerned with everything going on his mind.

“This will not change things between us, right?” You asked and he didn’t answer, still avoiding your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had probably ruined one of the few good things you had in this shitty world. “Daryl, promise you’ll not avoid me and we’ll still be the same.”

“Ya won’t rest until I promise ya something today, aren’t ya? What is it with ya and promises?” Why were you always asking things from him? At the same time he wanted to tell you to fuck off, he wanted you to be close, at least close enough so he could keep an eye on you.

“I just don’t want things to get odd between us.” You raised your hand in between both of you, all fingers down and just your pinky up. He looked at your hand and could not believe that you were doing it. “Ok, now promise that we’ll still be friends.”

“What are ya? Five?” Who in your age made pinky promises? Why did you have to be so… vivid? “Fine. Let’s make the fucking pinky promise.”

He took your pinky in his and then you sealed it with your thumbs. “Happy?”

“Yes, now I can rest assured that we’re still friends.” You smiled and he rolled his eyes, but deep inside he felt a small warmth and oh, he was so afraid of this, because he had never felt anything like that before and he had no idea of what to do with it. “Have a good night Daryl, and thanks for the drink.”

“Luna, come on girl. Let’s go to sleep.” You called for the german shepherd, she got up from where she was laying, got a lick on Daryl’s hand and waited for him do caress her head, after it she followed behind you to your room.

You closed the door, put your back on it and slided to the floor. You could still feel his lips on yours, his hand at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and the heat of his body. How could you ever have a normal life after this? It could sound dramatic, but there was so long you weren’t this close to a man… Years actually, you didn’t even get on dates after Paul and he never did you feel this good as just kissing and touching Daryl made you feel. Fuck. Shane was right, you definitely had a crush on him, maybe more than this. And you Y/N Grimes didn’t do ‘more than this’, not anymore. You didn’t even do ‘less than this’.

You got up and decided it was time to go to bed and try to sleep. Luna laid by your side and you snuggled to her. “What should I do Luna?”

“Woof!” She said and gave a lick to your face.

“I already did it Luna, and I don’t know if it was the correct thing to do. I didn’t even know if he liked it.” Anyone would think you were crazy, but talking to Luna from time to time kept your sanity in place. “I’m not you, you know?”

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

[pochipop]

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — TALK ME DOWN (JIHYUN (V) X READER).

#. synopsis! — when things feel like they might come undone, jihyun doesn't have to deal with it alone anymore .

#. characters! — jihyun (v).

#. warnings! — vague references to past traumatic events (canon compliant) , non-graphic depictions of trauma responses .

#. word count! — 1.2k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Jihyun craves control in what feels like a necessary manner. He doesn’t like to have things thrust upon him without warning, doesn’t like to be out of the loop. It’s a matter of security, and that's why he scrambles to understand things at their very core. Even when he asks questions more than once, try to give him some leeway. He doesn’t mean to be overbearing or distrustful, —he simply craves details down to the marrow. It’s a tool he’s found that soothes his worries, and it’s a small price to pay for his peace.

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t seem like we have a reservation for that name,” the young woman at the front of the restaurant apologizes.

“Are you certain?” Jihyun asks, —and you can feel his grip tighten on your hand a bit, even as his tone remains incessantly polite. “I booked a table over a month in advance for our anniversary. . .”

She flips through the little booklet on the desk again, pursing her lips before shaking her head.

“I’m not sure what happened, but there’s unfortunately no tables available for this evening,” she replies. “You’re welcome to stay for a bit and see if anyone misses their reservation time, but that’s the best I can do. I’m very sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you assure her.

It’s not like she has anything to do with it. She’s just doing her job, and whatever happened, it likely wasn’t even her mistake to remedy. Moreover, it’s not like this was the end of the world. A block over there was a nice little steakhouse serving roughly similar menu items, and you’d been there on dates with Jihyun before. It might even be nice to go back and spend your second anniversary with him in a more familiar and welcoming place. . . But he felt like his head was swimming by the time he made it back outside.

His grip on your hand was unusually firm, —not painful, but more desperate than it had been a few minutes prior, and you could feel his palm getting clammy. Jihyun had always been a calm and reserved man, the type that took a while to warm up to people. At least, that’s how you’d always known him to be. Jumin told you he was a bit less reticent once upon a time, that he trusted more freely and cared more forwardly. But that was before, and things have clearly changed, and much of that change came at him in a sort of insurmountable way. It wasn’t the kind of thing anyone could prepare for, and bizarreness aside, Jihyun had by no means been afforded all the opportunities to feel safe and secure.

“Hey,” you say softly, looking up at him, “are you alright?”

The breath he utters is shaky at best, and he finds it difficult to meet your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he says quickly.

You barely catch the words as they spill past his lips in rapid succession.

He said them like he was sputtering out his final phrase, scared he might not have another chance to express it if he didn’t let it burst forth. 

“Sorry? —For what?” You ask, reaching up to cup his cheek in your free hand. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

When he looks at you, it’s like he’s seen a ghost. There’s a distant sense of fear and a few tears welling up, clumping together above his lashes.

“The table, it. . . I. . .” he tries, but the articulation doesn’t come to him.

He’s not sure what to say or how to say it, and he’s terrified of the fact that you’re being so calm, even when he knows he should be thankful for it. A part of him even thinks it might be easier if you just yelled and let him swallow your frustrations like the words he’s choking down. This gentleness is still foreign, even after all this time.

You walk with him a little ways, keeping your fingers laced with his. There’s a small community garden spot where everyone is free to come and admire the flowers, and it serves as an easy way to put some space between yourself and others strolling along the sidewalk.

“Jihyun,” you say, “it’s really okay. I’m sorry the reservation didn’t work out, but we can still have dinner down the block.”

But at this point, it’s less about any steak he’s missing out on and more about the fact that something has gone wrong in the first place. It’s out of his hands now, and he can’t stop thinking long enough to let himself drown in yours.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect,” he replies.

You kiss his frigid knuckles and look at him like he’s the only person in the world.

“I know,” you tell him. “And it might not help to say this, but I think you should know that it’s perfect to me anyway, no matter where we go. As long as I’m with you tonight, we can do anything, go anywhere, —I just love you, and as long as you’re here, I’m happy.”

Jihyun stills, and you can see the cogs turning behind his gaze, processing what you’ve said as if he finds it hard to believe. Sometimes, he forgets that this isn’t conditional. You know certain things linger longer than either of you would like, but it’s not really something he can help. Not right now. Two years doesn’t erase all the time he spent pining for forgiveness from all the wrong people in all the wrong places. Time hasn’t healed his wounds as well as he would have liked. They still pry themselves open and leave bloodtrails in his wake every now and again, and sometimes it gets on you.

He takes a breath and tries again.

“I booked the table,” he says firmly. “I remembered that you said you wanted to give the restaurant a try, but we could never find a good time, and I thought this would be the right occasion.”

You smile, because it’s sweet that he remembered such a small thing. It was a comment made in passing more than anything else, but he still cared enough not only to listen, but to keep it in mind.

“Thank you for trying,” you tell him in earnest. “But we can always book another reservation for another time.”

“It won’t be our anniversary for another year,” he explains.

“No, it won’t,” you agree, “but that’s okay, isn’t it? You brought me roses last month, and there was no special occasion for it.”

Jihyun purses his lips for a moment, then nods. He sees what you’re getting at, even though his disappointment is still palpable.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges.

“And you’re amazing,” you reply, pressing a hand against his warm chest.

He lets out a breath and pulls you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. A wave of relief washes over you upon feeling some of the tension leave his body.

“I’m really sorry,” he says. “Things weren’t supposed to go this way.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you insist.

“Yeah. . . Maybe. I just feel like it’s my fault,” he answers.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” you mumble, pulling away just enough to cup his cheeks again, hoping he won’t mind the mild shock of your free hand’s chill. “Sometimes things just happen.”

A part of him wants to argue, but he loses that urge the moment you brush your lips against his so tenderly. It’s the kind of softness he craves when he gets a little too wound up, and you can almost feel him melt into your embrace where he stands.

“Happy anniversary, Jihyun.”

He smiles, and it reaches his eyes.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

[purplepeach333]

The prey

Paring: Feyd x reader

Warnings:none

Word count:1k

Summary: tossed into the lions den lady y/n has to make it through her most unfortunate situation. Soon to be wed to the Na-Baron, seeing the Harkooens cruelty first hand and how everyone fears them, will y/n come to terms with her fate or will she fight it?

~Part 2~

A vast shadow covers the sky, the sound of an ornithopter's wings hovering above draws me from my thoughts, as the fremen gather outside along with my brother and mother. I hang back for a moment calming my nerves and clearing my mind then step out from the security of the large cave.

Making my way to my mothers side I catch a glimpse of the inside of the flying beast. It seems unoccupied, I turn to my mother confused but she does not bother returning a glance focusing her attention on the lowering aircraft.

Once the ornithopter lands on the sand, Jessica approaches to welcome the Harkooens on their arrival but from inside only a single man steps out, his shoulder slumped and his figure thin and fragile, the man looks around his pale face almost becoming paper white. Jessica stops in her tracks “what is this!” She questions looking between the pale man and the aircraft “where is the Baron and his nephew?” She demands

The man reaches slowly into his inner pocket of his unusual outfit, I see Paul’s hand move to his blade as he watches the man closely. Nothing but a small piece of parchment is revealed as the man unfolds it pulling it formally in front of himself, clearing his throat he starts “the Baron apologises for not being able to attend this event himself but he his glad you have finally accepted the offer for your family’s to be brought together and the Baron would like to reassure Lady Jessica that Lady y/n will be in safe hands on her journey to us and during her time with us” finishing the man folds the parchment back up placing it back into his pocket.

“This is ridiculous!” Paul claims angrily stepping forward “mother you can not accept this!”

Jessica simply lifts her hand to silence him, looking back at me “y/n you will go and honour the arrangement” she states her piercing eyes almost daring me to challenge her word.

Seeing no way out I nod in agreement before turning to Paul smiling at him reassuringly, but all he gives in return is an apologetic frown.

—

Finally landing I see three figures waiting at the top of a stairway, immediately recognising Feyd Rautha standing on the left side a larger old man in the middle “the man in the middle he is the Baron, yes?”I ask the man as he helps me off the aircraft “y-yes” the man stutters almost shrinking even more in there presence,turning to close the large door of the aircraft the man whispers “please lady y/n be careful what you say or do in the there presence” before walking away leaving me there feeling like a mouse under the gaze of predators.

Standing straight and confident, I make my way up the long and wide stairs, Jessica had been training me for this my whole life, I would be safe and alive as long as I did not let fear take control ‘fear is the mind killer’.

—

Finally reaching the top of the stairs slightly out of breath and in a worse mood than I had started. The Baron is the first to greet me “Ah Lady y/n, you’ve had a good trip I hope apologies for not coming personally to escort you!” The Baron cries out in a tone of forced joy, being pleasant and welcoming clearly isn’t the Barons strong suit, anyone could see the falsehood behind his manner of kindness.

“Of course Baron, I understand you must be a very busy man.” I reply a similar but much more carefully crafted forced sense of care and joy in my expression.

From the corner of my eyes I can see Feyd Rautha the Na-Baron eyeing me down like a prize his just won, refusing to pleasure him with my attention I ignore his burning gaze

“Well come, come till our departure back to Giedi Prime you will be staying with Feyd in his room, I hope you don’t mind” the old man’s annoying voice breaths out almost as if he’d been gasping for air while speaking

Stunned and internally panicking I look at the Baron confused “but sir Baron. That is not allowed, you know this.” I state

“Do not question me!” His voice rings out loud and directly

My body’s instincts push me to jump back but I refuse standing still and tall “apologies Baron it was not my intention to question or anger you I was merely confused-“ cutting me off the Baron starts floating away without a care, his older nephew trailing behind him.

All I can do is stand, unsure what to do till I feel the Na-Baron's large hand grip around my forearm as his body stands uncomfortably close to mine “shall we” his distinct raspy voice breaks the silence as he pulls me along.

Walking down the sad and empty halls of the Harkooens' large residence, still unfortunately stuck within the Na-Barons grip, eyes wondering every room I pass curiously, the Baron not far ahead of us.

The thought of having to share a room with the Na-baron making my stomach twist uncomfortably. Hoping his duties would keep him busy enough to be left alone for as long as possible. Whilst in tangled thoughts I feel a pull on my arm as I realise Feyd stop suddenly, seeing the Baron turn to us “you here” he calls out to a young looking servant girl walking past as she comes to a halt turning towards the Baron her eyes on the floor “take Lady y/n to get a proper fit of clothes” he ordered, slipping out of Feyds grip I silently nod following the girl.

Once we’re a safe distance from the Harkooens I look at the girl thin, pale and bald like everyone else, her big doe eyes dark and tired looking, her feminine features painted with fear. I glance around quickly before speaking “what is it like on Giedi Prime?” My voice low and soft, “i-it” her voice shakes “it is alright you are free to speak as you please in my presence” I reassure her “It… it is not an easy place for most” she mumbles barely audible “hm, yes I’ve heard”.

—

Stepping out in my new gown feeling strange being out of my sand suit after so long, my dress, simple but elegant, a dark shade of black, small dark gems around the chest, reaching just above the floor. “Thank you, it’s beautiful!” I smile at the servants who fitted me, turning to view myself in the three mirrors in front of me. The room silent but peaceful. I let myself breathe for the first time since my arrival amongst the Harkooens.

The dim lit room decorated with grim colours feeling a little uneasy, “is this how every room is presented” I sigh to the lady’s behind me getting not a single response “great..” I breath out stepping down from the small platform

“I’ll be leaving now, good day” I dismiss myself from the room. Closing the door behind me “this place is ridiculously huge, I’ll never find my way.” I mutter to myself turning to my left and making my way down a deserted hallway.

The thought of running out into the desert and disappearing forever becoming dangerously tempting as I glance out a window into the vast sand seas. “Thinking of fleeing little bird” a raspy familiar voice behind me approaches, “of course not Na-Baron I wouldn’t dare let a thought like that cross my mind” I answer him erasing any expression from my face, he circles me like a shark “they’ve spared no expense on you have they little bird” a sly smirk forming on his lips

“Well I am here to be show off aren’t I, the bene Gessrit finally getting what they want and in doing so giving your uncle a new toy to brag about'' i reply standing straight and unfazed by his presence, “you think you’ve got everything figured out have you?” Feyd steps closer, his eyes blue and unfortunately for me quite pretty.

“Feyd!” A loud masculine voice rings out from the head of the corridor, Feyd visibly annoyed but not removing his eyes from mine “what do you want Glossu?” He shouts back “uncle is demanding your presence brother” Glossu yells back his shoulder broad “”I’ll see you tonight little bird” Feyds eyes stay on mine a moment longer before he turns storming down past his brother, wondering what horrible idea his got distracts me from the man walking up to me “lady y/n allow me to escort you to your room” Glossu approaches much kinder than the Na-Baron “yes, thank you” I smile thankfully to him as I follow his lead down the labyrinth of corridors.

Tag list:

@avidreader73

@mamawiggers1980

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Are No Dragon (Aemond x Aegon x Reader)

This was challenging cause I had to correlating a lot of scenes in it but I hope I succeeded your expectations

“You are no dragon, you are the flame itself”

Daemon always liked to tease his eldest daughter (y/n), she was the result of Daemons and Laenas wedding night, “the siren princess” as the small folk sang for the princesses alluring nature, one stare to her dark lavender hues you would think you were engulfed by the ocean, slowly luring you in to drown you.

The princesses stubbornness knew no ends, she had inherited her fathers temper as well, the family would often reminisce to the distasteful reaction of (y/n) grabbing the queen by the hair when she pulled a dagger to threaten Rhaenyra after her mothers burial, (y/n) was not mad over the action she just found it disrespectful to turn such a grim event to a humiliation of their house.

“I will not stand for this, you are all acting like fools! Aemond lost an eye! I lost my fucking mother and I am exhausted! can we please just go to bed!”

She had yelled when she stood in between the queen and the princess, Daemon was the only one that approached his daughter while the others held their breath at the sight of the deranged girl who had the guts to do such an act.

“Come along my blood, you should rest”

-

“Well, I would say it is good to be back but I would be lying”

“Come on (y/n) we haven’t been back to kings landing for so long I am sure you will find something to keep yourself entertained”

Just like Gods had planned this particular moment, when Jace finished his sentence Aemond appeared from the main door of the red keep, it was bad enough to not have anyone welcome the future heir to the throne but to send the second son by himself was even worst.

(Y/n) did not mind though, watching Aemond walk down the stairs until he stood right ahead of the family had gained her attention, he was quite taller, broad shoulders and long silver locks, the eyepatch was her favourite part of him as part of the scar escaped from the accessory he had chosen to conceal it.

“My mother the queen apologises for not being able to welcome you back to the red keep, she has send me to escort you to your chambers”

“Tell your mother that sending her little pup-“

“Father please be polite I am sure prince Aemond has the best intentions, isn’t that right my prince?”

(Y/n) interrupted her father. Daemon knew his daughter like the back of his hand, she was the blood of his blood, she acted like him ever since he could remember and he took pride in that, his daughter was no lady, she was a true Targaryen warrior.

Aemond allowed his eyes to explore the princess, he had not seen her since he lost his eye, he had prayed to the seven that the inappropriate feelings that haunted him since he was a young kid had been buried, it only took one glance from her to make Aemonds heart beat like he had ran miles.

“Follow me please”

-

“Oh gods my apologies, I lost track of time while I was taking my bath”

(Y/n) hadn’t lost track of time, she just did not want to admit that she did not like any of her dresses so she alternate one of them, the result was good enough although the initial target was Aemond her goal swayed when she laid eyes at the oldest son, Aegon.

“Prince Aegon, how you’ve grown”

“I can say the same about you”

Aegon replied when his eyes scanned the princess and her choice of a gown, she had done it intentionally there was no doubt in his mind about that, on the contrary it pleased him to see his mothers disapproving eyes land on someone else for a chance.

“Glad you could join us my flame”

Daemon shared a smirk with his daughter to which she mirrored, father and daughter would often sense that words were unnecessary, their eyes said enough for them to understand.

The princess has come of age it was normal for a lady to start being interested in the opposite gender, Daemon would never force his daughter with wedlock unless she wished for it nor bring her shame in wanting to be desired because some pious septa said ladies should be unorgasmic shells of humans that there only purpose was to breed. Idiotic words spread by men who could never bed a woman so they decided to make them suffer by inventing demons and call it a sin when a woman feels pleasure.

As the supper went by rather smoothly (y/n) could not help but notice Aemond gawking at her, the honourable prince took pride in his ways, he was never interested in bedding women or chasing around whores, a man of discipline was now catching himself wondering what the princesses lips felt like as they were stained by the red wine she drank.

“A word before you leave?”

“Of course father”

One by one left the dinner table clearing the room for them to have some privacy, Daemon even waited for the servants to finish clearing the table until he spoke to his daughter.

“Aegon did not take his eyes off you”

“I could feel him burning holes against my skin”

“You noticed? I thought you were busy eye fucking the one eyed prince”

“Father I-“

“You do not have to lie to me, you are my blood I understand a girl your age raises questions, so who will answer those questions Aemond or Aegon?”

“I seem to have a little bit of trouble deciding”

“Greedy little thing, when I was younger my father put a few swords on the table and asked me to pick one, all of them beautiful and unique in their own way, I asked my father if I could practise with a different one everyday to help me make my decision”

“And what if… none of them were your final pick?”

“Good question, I hated all of them so I snuck into my fathers room and stole dark sister”

“Father are you suggesting-“

“I am not suggesting anything we are just discussing about… swords, you are young and full of life, don’t waste your stamina on one sword”

-

“Princess (y/n)?”

“Did I wake you my prince?”

“No I was just reading, is there something wrong”

“I could not find sleep, I was hoping if you could keep me company”

Aemond withheld his tongue, he simply moved to the side to signal permission of entering to the princess. A faint mischievous smile decorated her lips once she entered, the fire was doing wonders for the heat of the chamber, (y/n) was thankful for that since her choice of a nightgown was for the summer, if her visit went as she had planned she wouldn’t need it so it did not matter to her.

“Please have a seat”

“What were you reading?”

“A book of Aegon the conquerors”

“Isn’t that written in high Valyrian”

“I like to… practise”

Aemond lost composure fora quick second when he found the princess getting comfortable in his bed, he had dreamed of her in his bed, naked in between the sheets while he held her close, he could almost taste her as he wetted his lips with his tongue.

“I would love to listen to you read, why don’t you join me here with your book?”

Aemond hesitated at the request, she was toying with him for her entertainment, she was stepping in a territory that Aemond had been trying to escape almost all his life. A strange power overtook him and he found himself taking big steps to his bed and almost attack her lips with his, he made himself comfortable on top of her as the kiss deepened, (y/n) let out a small moan that to the princes ears it sounded like an Angel singing.

“Do you still want me to read to you?”

“I think I know another way to put your tongue in good use”

The urge Aemond possessed was immense, a tender lover that took care of the princess, worshipping every inch of her naked body decorating it with his kisses and gracing it with his soft touch.

(Y/n) rode him to the world of euphoria, Aemond was a mess of a man under her power, crumbling with every move and begging her to keep going, to Aemond a siren was nowhere near her, (y/n) reminded him of the dark tales of a succubus that fed off the energy of men during the act, a death so sweet was worth it to him, if his last memory was her face scrunch up from pleasure as the light of the fireplace licked her presence it would enough for him to die a happy man.

When she fell on top of him as the orgasm washed off her Aemond traced her back making goosebumps that caused her to shiver, all that could be heard was the panting of the couple that had worked on one another like it was their last day.

“Stay the night”

“You know I cannot do that, the servants will knock on the door before I can escape”

“Since when does the princess care about gossip”

“That i do not care about gossip does not imply I feed into it on a silver platter”

“Will you visit me again?”

“Mayhaps, rest well my prince”

-

“Prince Aegon”

“Missed me?”

“Not necessarily”

“I would say I am wounded however you probably feel like that because I have not given you something to miss”

“Yes you may come in, get comfortable”

She mumbled after prince Aegon had already taken the liberty to strut in her chamber like he owned it, well he kind of did since she was a “guest” in the castle that he lived permanently.

Aegon stopped when he reached (y/n)s vanity stand to pick up her perfume and spray some in the air to take a big whiff.

“That smell”

“If you are interested I can ask my lady in waiting to purchase a bottle for you”

“No I would rather get the scent off of you dear (y/n)”

“For a man with your reputation I never would have thought you were to shy to say things directly”

Aegon left the bottle back in its spot when he heard her steps closing in on him, his back still against her still that did not discourage (y/n) from placing her hands around the mans torso and rest her chin on his shoulder, he could recognise that look she had on her face, the big doe eyes with a hint of lust, it drove him insane to see her so… willing.

He broke free from her grip so he can face her as he leaned with his hands to support himself against the wooden stand.

“You haven’t gotten out of your room today”

“I wasn’t feeling well”

“It’s not honourable to lie”

“It’s not honourable to undress a lady with your hungry eyes”

Aegon chuckled at her quick tongue, if she was a whore she wouldn’t even wear that at the sight of a Targaryen prince, if she was a lady at court she wouldn’t have even allowed him in the room and if he even made it in she would stutter and blush with any word, (y/n) was a strong opponent that mirrored her partners actions, an interesting challenge.

“You are right, take off your nightgown”

With one slight slip from the strap on her right shoulder the dress was on the floor, neither of them moved a muscle, a stand off to see who will cave first as the princess stood naked per the princes request.

They moved in unison as they met in the middle and basically fell into each others arms for a kiss, Aemond was tender, Aegon was powerful, before she could realise it he had lifted her off the floor and forced her back to clash to the wall making her groan from the impact, Aegon did not care about hurting her at the moment and (y/n) did not care about linen when she teared apart the white blouse he was wearing to expose his chest, Aegon let his trousers go down on his ankles and soon enough (y/n) took in a sharp breath from the first pump.

Bites scattered along her shoulders from Aegons sexual nature was rough and animalistic, (y/n) responded with living bloody scratches on his back to hold on to him since she was basically in the air. (Y/n) felt like she was on the moon, Aegons dirty words that he whispered in her ear brought more moans, he went in a fast pace gripping on to her chin to force her to look at him as she came undone in his arms, her one hand was locked in Aegons silver locks to bring him closer so she can bite down on his lip as the prince followed her to reaching his high.

“I guess the rumours are true for your abilities my prince”

“I have to say the mystery that followed you made it even more interesting (y/n)”

“You must go”

“I am not done with you”

“I am, mayhaps we can circle back on this tomorrow”

-

What she did not let the two princes know was that (y/n) did not plan on staying for long, on the morrow (y/n) stood next to her dragon to fly back to dragon stone with her family close by.

“(Y/n)!”

The princess’s called for her in one voice, their reaction to hearing one another call out for her is to share a look for confusion with one another as they approached her. (Y/n) smiled at the scene of them running like little dogs behind her, so it was true that the power of the woman held no limit.

“Prince Aegon and prince Aemond, came to say goodbye”

“You are leaving? You never spoke of departing so soon”

“I do not want to overstay my welcome”

She kept her cool to reply to prince Aemond who was clearly dumbfounded at her leaving the red keep, ever since the night they slept together Aemond had grown obsessed, if he could he would have ripped his brain out to stop the thoughts of her on top of him flooding in at all hours of the day, prohibiting him from focusing on anything.

“You told me I would see you tonight”

“I said we might see each other prince Aegon I did not give you my word”

“Why would you see each other?”

“Why are you asking if she is leaving?”

“Let us not cause a scene now, it is better we depart with fond memories of one another”

“Fond memories? Is that what a whore calls it now when she fucks her way around the castle?”

(Y/n) laughed at Aemonds burst of emotion, his harsh words slipped past the princess only to feed her ego, seeing the princes in shambles over her ready to go at each others throats was a wonderful scenario no one would witness.

“One moment, father come over you want to listen to this”

“No don’t”

“Why not? My father would love to hear what you have to say and trust me even if your seven themselves graced the dragon pit they could not save your cocks”

(Y/n) stopped her sentence for a brief moment so she can place one of her hands on Aemonds cheek in endearment before she gave it a small smack like he was a child.

“Such a pity, I thoroughly enjoyed your cock”

“What seems to be the problem my blood?”

“The princes here would like to share a few thoughts they have about me, what was the word you used again dear Aemond?”

“Yes, what was the word you used to describe my daughter?”

Requests are open!

[bingo6776]

Heyo, here is a Wednesday x autistic!reader. its more so from wednesday’s POV ig? not strictly but yeah. i used alot of my own experiences/feelings, but from readers POV it was slightly harder to have it flow in a way?? idk

not the best, but i havent written in ages and figured i would put something mid out over nothing :))) 

requests are welcome n shit

1.9k 

Wednesday ground her teeth together as she looked at the watch on her wrist.

 1:15 pm.

 You were only 15 minutes late, but for you, that was as good as being hours late.

 Ever since Wednesday had known you, you were always early. No matter what the event was, you’d be there waiting for everyone else to arrive.

 Once, on you weekly coffee dates at the weathervane, she had attempted to get there first. To be the one waiting for you this time.

But, of course, no matter how early she had gotten there, you’d always be waiting at your usual table, with an amused look on your face as you saw her deflate at being beaten, of course, you’d only be more amused at the fake glare she sent you, paired with her worryingly inventive threats of bodily harm and psychological torture.

 So, yes. 15 minutes may not be monumental to the rest of this incompetent school, but for you, it was.

 Wednesday felt her foot tapping lightly, to others it would have looked comical. An impatient Wednesday Addams tapping her foot as the seconds ticked by as if she was in some kind of cartoon.

 Wednesday’s mind was slowly overcome with a never-ending stream of violent occurrences that could have happened to you preventing you from meeting her at the agreed upon time and place.

 If she were anyone else, she would have let them cloud her mind, dull her sharp senses. Yet, luckily for her, she was not.

 Which is why  when Enid passed by the shrouded area Wednesday darted an arm out, aggressively tugging the blonde werewolf into the shadows with her.

 “You have a class with Y/N,” Wednesday decided to ignore the shocked yelp Enid let out, along with the way Enid was barely able to prevent herself from clawing Wednesday away from her. “She’s late meeting with me.”

 Enid shot Wednesday a sympathetic look, she knew the morbid girl would never say such a thing to anyone but you, but you were a vital part of her schedule, you kept her clam. Levelled. Balanced. She cherished any time you spent together. Even though Enid had been witness to numerous die hard romances amongst outcast and normie alike, she had never seen such a pure and unrelenting love that the two of you shared.

 “Oh, uh, yeah. Yoko said she saw some nurse taking her to her dorm earlier, apparently, she got caught in the middle of the change over rush,” Enid grimaced at the thought of being stuck in the throng of teenagers who hadn’t grasped onto the concept of personal space or volume control yet.

 Wednesday hardly waited a second after the werewolf finished her sentence before she turned away, storming towards your dorm.

 ‘And Yoko says I’m a lovesick puppy,’ Enid thought as she rolled her eyes at the brisk departure and returned to her friends.

 To Wednesday, it wasn’t too hard to string together the rest of the events that had occurred.

 She knew you weren’t embarrassed to have autism, no. But, as she herself was autistic, she could understand the struggles of avoiding overstimulation and the prying stares you’d receive in the aftermath.

 Once she reached the dorm, people in the hallway parting to let her through, not wanting to meet the wrath of an obviously determined Addams, she softly tapped at the door.

 One second

Two

Three

Four

 With no reply, she slowly pushed the door open walking into the small gap she created.

 Your room wasn’t dark, yet it wasn’t light either. There was just a soft silver glow coming from the small lamp on your bedside table.

  It illuminated your figure that was curled in on yourself on top of your bed, hands clamped over your ears, eyes screwed shut in a way that Wednesday knew should have been uncomfortable. You were making a consistent, yet urgent sounding hum, more so for the feeling of it vibrating in your chest over having the actual noise.

 And Wednesday felt her heart break. No, no. it was more as if it crumbled. Slowly, but surely, it withered away. She hated seeing you so distressed, so in pain due to the ignorance and downright bone-headed students at Nevermore. She swore that she would kill each and every person who put you in this position, shed ensure that before she pushed them into the black abyss of death that they would experience every torture method known to man and spirit alike.

 No.

 No, she could focus on that later. Now you were more important, much more important.

 Trying not too make too much noise, she walked over to your bed, noticing how your figure rocked back and forth slowly. Once she had come close enough, she simply sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to take notice of the slight dipping of the mattress and how she emerged in your line of sight.

 As your eyes sprang open and focused onto hers, Wednesday truly did try not to flinch at the tears that were held there, the panic that still filled every brim of your body at being pushed and pulled in the crowd, the overlapping conversations feeling as if they had been cutting into your brain, your skin suddenly too hot, too tight.

 Slowly, she raised a hand, moving it at a pace that if at this moment you didn’t want to be touched, you could give her a sign that space was what you needed, but when you didn’t make any such sign she gently laid on top of your arm. The second her cool skin made contact with your own overheating one, you practically launched yourself into her arms.

 Your arms wound your way around her shoulders, burrowing your face into her neck, revelling in the calming scent that filled your space, the darkness that engulfed you as you pushed your face into the crook of her neck.

 “Cara Mia,” Wednesday murmured as her arms tightly wound around your waist, knowing you preferred pressure over light, barely there touches. “What is it you need from me right now, how can I help?”

 You would have given her an in-depth description of the how’s, and the why’s, if it hadn’t felt like your fucking throat had sewn itself shut. The feeling of not being able to talk, not be able to force the words out of your throat without being overcome with discomfort only made more tears spring to your eyes, made you push your face deeper into her neck, trying to get lost in anything over than the fact you felt like your body and mind were becoming so overfilled that you were about to break at the seams.

 Yet, Wednesday was fluent in many languages, luckily she had recently become more than acquainted with your body language.

 She could practically feel the desperation and distress radiating off of your body.

 Not knowing what else she could have done in the moment, she placed a hand o your hair and started slowly running her fingers through it in the way she knows you liked, gently scratching your scalp every now and then.

 “Would you prefer if we were to stay in silence?” she was glad no one was around to hear how sappy and soft she sounded.

 You shook your head, never lifting your head from the safety of Wednesday’s body, enjoying the way her skin was soft, yet had clearly refined muscles lurking beneath the surface. How she smelled of something so indescribable, yet so unbelievably her.

 Laying her head on your own, one hand still working its way through your hair, the other keeping its place at your waist, Wednesday pushed away thoughts about her reputation, or what people may think of the presumed dangerous, murderous Addams being reduced to a pile of mush all for you, and started humming a soft tune instead.

 So what if shed picked up a few of Enid’s softer songs, knowing you and the werewolf had similar tastes. She knew that one day they could come in handy, either from her own mouth or her cello, they’d be useful. Not because she wanted to impress you, no way.

 For an unknown amount of time, Wednesday held you against your body, rocking you both back and forth, never once halting in her movements or her humming.

  To you, it felt like she was a shield against the outside world, protecting you from it. She was your safe space, the one person you knew you could rely on to be there, no matter the circumstance. You hoped you were that for her too.

 Eventually, you felt somewhat better, your body still feeling slightly tense, your muscles aching slightly from not being strained for so long. But still. Better.

 You pulled back from Wednesday slightly, still keeping your arms loosely tied around her shoulders, ignoring the flushed, sticky feeling that coated your cheeks from your tears.

 “I-“ even from the simple letter, your throat closed up, feeling rough from the shallow breathing, not being able to pull much more air into you lungs despite having wanted nothing more than that one big breath that felt like your body was reset. Clearing your throat, you carried on. “I’m sorry. For, you know… this. And being late.”

 Despite your short sentences and the quiet way you uttered the words, Wednesday felt her heart crack again, she was reminded of the way she practically itched to get her hands on the people who mad you feel like this.

 “My love, don’t you dare apologise,” she trailed a finger from your brow, down to your jaw. “You have done nothing wrong. We both know more than most that this is not something you can control. The least those insufferable cretins could have done was be more aware of what they were doing. It’s amusing how they think I’m the intolerant one.”

 You huffed out a soft laughing, your eyes tracing over Wednesday’s face, not settling on one space for too long. You were still astounded to this day that you had been able to win Wednesday’s affections, to have her hold you in such a caring manner without holding a knife against your throat in the next second.

 “Wends, no murder, no maiming. We have a deal, remember? You leave at least half of the school alive, and you get to carry that ancient mace around with you.”

 “It’s not much of a deal, Y/N. You wouldn’t be able to pry the mace from my dead hands, I can do as I please and murder who I please. Regardless of whether you think it’s polite, or not.”

 At that you only quirked a brow at her, all you would have to do was say please and shed give you the world, shed burn it to the ground to watch you smile, or nurture it with a gentleness she had buried long ago. Until you. Still, whichever you pleased. She’d prefer the burning, but that’s irrelevant, watching as she rolled her eyes and grumbled some half-hearted excuse.

 “Irrelevant, my love. We are focusing on you, and what you need. Would you like to watch one of those inane movies you like? The ones that are a disgrace to every cinematic piece ever made?”

 Not having the energy to delve into how ‘Shrek’ was a masterpiece in its own right, you only nod gently.

 Tugging the gothic girl to lay down beside you, with your head resting on her shoulder as she pulled your laptop from your bedside table, already knowing how to load the movie due to the “innumerable amount of times” you had forced Wednesday “to watch such a pathetic excuse for entertainment.”

 You knew she’d say she hated it, but you didn’t miss the way her lips tugged up slightly when Donkey was petrified for whatever reason throughout the movie.

[noirandchocolate]

Discworld Fight Club 2023 Masterpost

Welcome to the biggest rumble the Disc has ever seen! Thrill as some of the turtle's premier brawlers, assassins, vampires, magic users, and tricksters face off in a five-round tournament to see who's the best of the best!

But first, please read the Rules:

Remember to vote based on who you think would win in a fight, not necessarily who is your favorite character. This is a tournament, not a popularity contest!

These fighters are good guys and shouldn't really bear any real animus toward each other, so consider this a more or less friendly event where no one is literally trying to murder anyone. So, when considering what weapons and techniques a character might use, think more in terms of how they'd incapacitate one another. That might involve using weaponry of course, but like, maybe Detritus shouldn't have access to the Piecemaker, is the kind of thing I mean, ha.

A contestant can win by knocking their opponent out, making them 'say uncle' so to speak, or even tricking them somehow! Think about the characters' strengths beyond, well, physical strength!

Successfully running away counts as a victory for the runner, not as a default win for the contestant left behind.

Reblogging and replying to the polls, especially with commentary on your reasoning for your vote, would be super fun and I hope a lot of people will do that! I tried to seed the bracket so the matchups are interesting, and I think there's some room for debate on a lot of them even at the start. Have fun!

So without further ado, let's have Discworld Fight Club 2023!

This will be updated as the rounds progress, with links to each poll. Winners on each match are in bold.

Round 1:

Part A-- Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Maladict Match 2: Moist von Lipwig vs. Dr. Whiteface Match 3: Ghenghiz Cohen vs. Reg Shoe Match 4: Mrs. Erzulie Gogol vs. Rob Anybody Feegle Match 5: Detritus vs. the Dean of Pentacles Match 6: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Susan Sto Helit Match 7: Mr. Nutt vs. Harry King Match 8: The Librarian vs. Queen Magrat Garlick

Part B--

Match 1: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Willikins Match 2: Adora Belle Dearheart vs. Mr. Pump Match 3: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Sergeant Cheery Littlebottom Match 4: Lu-Tze vs. Otto Chriek Match 5: Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully vs. Polly Perks Match 6: Jason Ogg vs. Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson Match 7: Sergeant Angua von Uberwald vs. Rincewind Match 8: Agnes "Perdita X Dream" Nitt vs. Sergeant Jack Jackrum

Round 2:

Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Moist von Lipwig Match 2: Ghenghiz Cohen the Barbarian vs. Rob Anybody Feegle Match 3: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Detritus Match 4: Mr. Nutt vs. the Librarian Match 5: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Adora Belle Dearheart Match 6: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Lu-Tze Match 7: Archancellor Mustrum Ridcully vs. Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson Match 8: Sergeant Angua von Uberwald vs. Sergeant Jack Jackrum

Round 3:

Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Rob Anybody Feegle Match 2: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. the Librarian Match 3: Lord Havelock Vetinari vs. Gytha "Nanny" Ogg Match 4: Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson vs. Sergeant Angua von Uberwald

Round 4:

Match 1: Commander Samuel Vimes vs. Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax Match 2: Gytha "Nanny" Ogg vs. Sergeant Angua von Uberwald

Round 5:

Final: Esmerelda "Granny" Weatherwax vs. Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Granny Weatherwax has taken the title!! Thanks for participating, everyone! It's been a really fun week of battles, just as I'd hoped! And it's all thanks to you guys, for voting and commenting some pretty insightful and funny stuff! I definitely encourage everybody to go into the match links above and check out the notes if they haven't been doing so all along.

And thus ends Discworld Fight Club 2023!