#I enjoy them being reluctantly soft for each other more but from time to time I just think about how powerful they could get together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

patrophthia · 11 months

Text

take you to the basics | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott × hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff, (kinda) established relationships, theo is whipped, even more fluff, everyone are friends, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, 7th year (after war), theres ginny here too, not beta read, awkward theo bc it’s cute, theo is basically just tall, and not buff ver of jeon wonwoo from svt

word count: 3.9k

is a sequel to love is sour grapes but can be read as a one shot as well!

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow -even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me- he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

Why was life so complicated? Okay, maybe not so much life —why was dating Theodore so complicated? That is if the two of us were even a thing. It was okay at first, now it's just plain out exhausting.

I like him and he knows it. And he likes me, and I know it. So why was things so complicated? We've kissed before, multiple times actually. We've gone on dates where we spent a majority of the time talking about the books we read —although it's more like me talking and him listening with that stone cold face of his, but that was just who he was and I would never change it about him.

What I do want to change though is whatever is going on between us. I've already embarrassed myself in front of him once and I would rather die than do it again. So what should I do in this situation? Talk to my friends apparently.

"I don't get it," says Hermione with a frustrated tone. "You both like each other and he acts like your boyfriend." I nod slowly and she continues. "But he isn't actually your boyfriend."

I nod again. "Yup."

"He didn't ask?" Ginny asks, now having joined our little friend group. Ron and Harry listen reluctantly, not enjoying the girl talk all too much.

"You have to ask?" Ron asks suddenly, obviously clueless. And when Hermione, and Ginny shoot him a look. He turns to his plate, mumbling. "I thought you'd be boyfriends and girlfriends after the third date."

"That's normally how it goes," I said. "After the third date the two of you are technically a thing but it isn't official until one or the other asks to make it official."

"Why don't you ask him?" Harry says suddenly, immediately regretting it when all our attention was fixed on him. "I mean maybe, he —like Ron and I— don't know about these things so he just assumes—"

"That's not excusable," Hermione cuts him off. "He's friends with a girl, Parkinson, so I'm sure she's filled him on this stuff."

"But what if she didn't?" I ask. Okay maybe I had a soft spot for Theo and is trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. And in my defence, I liked him, like a lot, and when you fancy someone, like really fancy them, the red flags tend to look like a dark shade of pink and I'd like to think that pink was a pretty colour.

Plus —and this isn't just an excuse, if I really thought about it, I don't think I've ever seen Theodore go out with anyone before he went out with me. So if he was a rookie at this dating thing, maybe I should be the one leading this relationship.

"Okay then go ask him," Hermione says pettily, she wants me to be happy, she really does, but she can't find it in herself to support me dating someone who can't make it clear what his intentions with me were. "Ask him 'what are we?' Or 'why did you tell me to not smile at other people?' I can't let you be with someone who doesn't know their place with you."

"And what makes you think he doesn't," Ron chimes in between a bite of his snack, when did he get one, I didn't seem to notice.

"You see her?" Hermione asks, she then says my name in the same questioning tone. "She wouldn't be talking to us about this if he did."

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be on a date with him right now?" Ginny says suddenly. "Why are you here?"

"He had last minute plans with Malfoy," I say, and I know, even without looking at her, that Hermione was disappointed with me. "And it wasn't a date."

"Yeah, just two people who fancy each other hanging out," Ron snickered, now being on Mione's side of disapproving of Theo.

"Did he tell you what he was doing with Malfoy?" Harry asks, curious as to what the Slytherins might be up to.

"I don't know," I told him. "I'm already stressing about this whole situation with him that I just accepted and went to find you four. I think I'm just going to take off my makeup, spend the day with you, then try to sleep good tonight."

I then added. "Unless you had plans that didn't include me in it?"

The four shook their heads. "We were just going to go watch Harry and Ginny practice." Hermione says.

"Great," I mumbled, standing up. "I'll come with."

"Wait," Ginny calls out, and I pause in my step, turning to where her voice came from. "I'll be quick."

She points at her shoe and it's then that I notice that it's been untied. Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who seemed to have not heard her, continued their way towards the quidditch pitch. I waited by her side, offering her a hand when she had to get back up.

"You know," she says lowly, "I heard that you're the only person Nott didn't reject, apparently he's pretty popular with the girls."

I shook my head. "That's not true," I say with a slight frown. "When I first asked him out, he just stared at me."

"Which technically isn't a rejection," Ginny smiles sweetly. "More like you rendering him speechless."

That was exactly what Theo told me after my first date with him. "I guess."

"Bloody hell, will you two please speed it up?" Ron shouts at the front of the quidditch pitch, only now realising that we're far behind them.

I felt half the urge to walk even slower, and from the small grin Ginny wore from the corner of my eyes, I'm pretty sure she was thinking the same thing. But Harry and Hermione were also waiting with him, and it was only a matter of time before they started bickering about it as well. So we sped up with our steps.

But just before we reach the pitch, Ginny stops me, yelling for them to go ahead without us. "You want to know a secret?" she asks, I nod. "Since I was Harry's first real girlfriend I had to be the one to ask him to be my boyfriend."

"Are you saying I should be the one to ask?" I murmur. I don't think I would mind doing so, but there was something more romantic about having your date ask you to be your boyfriend.

"No," she says kindly. "Just saying you should nudge him in the right direction."

"So guide him?"

"Yep."

Okay. That is surely something I can do. Now, for me to draw up a plan on how to do it. If I've managed to help take down a dark wizard then surely I can get Theo to ask me to be his girlfriend.

Both Ginny and I step into the quidditch pitch. Slightly taken aback to see more than six players in the field (with Ginny being the missing member), it didn't take us long to register why though.

Neither did it take me long to notice Theo, standing right behind Malfoy as he bickered with Harry. What was happening? And did Theo really ditch our (not) date just to watch his friend's quidditch practice?

"Badger," Blaise says suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to Ginny and I by the entrance. "I see you look pretty as always."

Theodore doesn't even bother to subtly smack his friend in the back of his head. It doesn't affect Blaise though, only finding it amusing to witness.

"What's going on?" Ginny asks.

"We booked this pitch," Malfoy says before Harry could get a word in. "And now you're trying to take it from us."

"No, we booked the pitch." Harry says sternly. "You're the one trying to take it away from us."

Despite Gryffindor and Slytherin (somewhat) friendship after the war ended —and the fact that our friend groups were now mixed because of whatever Theodore and I have going on. They were still competitive people. And they want more than anything to win this year's cup.

"I have an idea," I say, quite honestly done with their stupid rivalry. "How about you practise together?" I say off-handedly, knowing full well that they'd agree to come for my throat. "Just an idea."

"And have they found out about our strategies?" Malfoy scoffs. "I thought you were smarter than this."

Considering that I did better in classes then him, and that Ron agreed with his words. I technically am smarter than him. "Well if you're so sure about your strategies working then it wouldn't hurt if you gave up the pitch for just one practice right?"

Draco was on the brink of agreeing when it hit him, blinking at me. "Oh you're good," he murmurs. "Fine, have the pitch for all I care."

I was more than sure that he was only giving it for my benefits. Sure that if it had been someone else who had said it, he'd only double down and insist that he'd reserved the pitch (he didn't, not a single Slytherin booked the pitch for today). But it seemed as though he had a soft spot for me.

The theory of Slytherins having soft spots for Hufflepuffs gets proven right once more. And I'm more than glad to know that I was the beneficiary of this theory.

Blaise was the first to leave, waving at me as he went as the other Slytherins followed after him, the players grumbling under their breath with their brooms in hand. Theo was the last to leave, lingering just so he could pull me to the side.

A hand on my left arm leads me to a quieter corner of the pitch, just below the benches as the players start to get ready for practice. I don't look him in the eye when I ask him, "what?"

The hostility in my tone wasn't missed by Theo and if I didn't know him the way I did, I would've missed the flash of hurt in his eyes. "What do you want, Nott?"

And Theodore feels as if I was stomping on his heart. He hasn't been called Nott since the two of us started going out. "Are you mad at me?"

My brows furrow. "What do you think?"

"Did I do something wrong?" He follows up, his tone doesn't show it —neither does his face, but he was worried, scared, and quite honestly pissed with himself. "Is it because I cancelled on you? Doll, you said you were okay with it."

"No," I shook my head. Confrontation wasn't something I was fond of, nor was I good at it. So I'll settle with just being upset for now. "I'm not mad at you."

Theodore blinks, seemingly getting whiplash from my words. First I ask him what he thinks, in a —if he wasn't wrong— passive aggressive tone, and now I'm telling him that I'm not mad at him? What.

But he decides to take my words as is, trusting that I'd tell him how I feel despite him not telling me that he honestly feels like he'd fucked him over; ruining his only chance at love —oh, and that he doesn't even know what he did. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"No," I say with a slight shake of my head. "I think I'll have dinner with my friends tonight." Theodore fails to mention that Blaise, Draco, and Pansy were also my friends by now. "Next time?"

Theo nods, agreeing. "Next time."

It has been three weeks and 'next time' has yet to come. He's starting to realise it now: realising that I was actually mad at him when I said I wasn't and it'd be a lie if he said it didn't hurt him. He has somehow made me mad and he wishes more than anything that he was dead —because, quite honestly, he can't stand living if I was mad at him.

He needs to recruit help, he decided. And who better to help him with relationship problems than his friends (who he thinks has more experience with relationships than he does) and my friend (whom he knows has more experience in relationships then he does —take Granger and Weasley for example, the two have been together since fourth year).

"So you think she's mad at you and you don't know why?" Weasley comes to the conclusion after Blaise, who he'd already told the whole story to, summed it up for them. "You seriously don't?"

Theodore nods slowly, there was a slight shift in his stone cold expression, barely catchable by the eye but it was there. And it was that slight shift that reassured Hermione that Theo did actually have good intentions when it came to her friend; he was just clueless on what to do.

"She's upset with you because you said you were busy and left her to watch your friends practice," Ginny offers, it was clear that she was also mad on my behalf.

"That's it?" Malfoy mumbles questioningly. "Something as mundane as that is what we're meeting here for?"

"It might be mundane to you but it's not mundane to her," Harry jumps to my defence. "She's not you, Malfoy."

"Okay, so she's mad at Theo because he ditched her for us?" Blaise asks, trying to get them back on track.

"Don't say it like that," Ginny scoffs. "Phrasing it that way makes her seem selfish, which she's not. She just wants to know where she is with Theo and for him to at least try to prioritise her."

"I do prioritise her," Theo says dumbfounded-ly. He really did, he's spent the last however many months of his life reading cheesy books just to annotate them in hopes that I'd love them, he'd even picked up on cooking just so when (or really, if) we ended live together I'd always have a nice home cooked meal waiting for me. "She said she was okay with it."

"She said she was okay with it thinking that it was something important," Pansy explains, understanding exactly how I feel. She's been placed in the same position before, by no one other than Draco himself. "Thinking that Blaise had a heart attack or something, not a stupid quidditch practice."

"Careful," Draco warns. "You were also at the practice."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Bite me."

"What do I do then?" Theo asks after a while, picking the topic back up.

And the Gryffindor's try their best to remain normal, never —in the last seven years they'd spent studying in the same castle as him— had they heard him spoken for such a long period of time.

"Well let's take you to the basics," Hermione says. "Where are the two of you right now? In terms of relationship that is."

"We're dating?" He answers slowly.

"No you're not," Ron says loudly. "You haven't asked to be her boyfriend yet."

Draco, clearly befuddled, says. "You have to ask?"

Pansy nods. "Of course," she says. "I thought you knew?" And then, after a beat, she adds. "Maybe that's why we didn't work out."

Draco rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the line of his fathers as he does so. "So what should he do then?"

"Apologise for what he did then make it clear what the two of you are." Harry explains, he's done this before, he did it when he first went out with Ginny —so really, he's speaking from experience. "From then on you take things slow so you can work out the kinks of your relationships.

Okay, he thinks he gets it. He has to apologise, make things clear, then take things slow. Surely he can do it.

Now for him to actually do it.

STEP ONE: apologise

Which is, more often than not, easier said than done. Theodore has half the heart to buy something nice in order of winning me over but he knew me better. And he knew that I wasn't with him for his money. So he ought to do better. And he thinks he knows how to do it.

To apologise he should do something heartfelt, which was why he'd found himself learning to plant my favourite flower. He'd rather die than apologise to the one person he cherished more than anything empty handed.

He sees the few cuts on his hand from his attempt at gardening and he hopes that I don't notice it. He doesn't want me to notice his imperfections when I was (to him) perfect in every sense. He likes me every time he sees me, I was exactly his type and he hopes I know it.

He doesn't want to mess this up. He doesn't want to mess us up. And he's really trying his best not to.

With our shoes almost touching, Theo stood tall from my seat on Hogwarts many benches with a planted pot in hand. "I'm sorry," he says first and I mask my surprise at his words. "I won't do it again."

He doesn't bother beating around the bush, with a gift in hand, safe to say I'm impressed. If not a little bit amused by how frustrated he looks.

"Why?" I ask, a hand reaching for the plant and Theodore hesitatingly hands it over, his own fingers brushing against my own. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I ditched you for—"

"Sweetheart, I told you that it was fine."

Theodore's pretty sure his brain is short circuiting. He's heard every variation of his name by now. All of which he can recall from the top of his head. Theodore, Theo, Nott, even Teddy from that ex-girlfriend he had back in kindergarten. But sweetheart is different.

And he thinks he likes it. He thinks he likes it when he's called sweetheart. He thinks he likes it because he likes me. And I was the one calling him sweetheart.

"But your friends—" he pauses, correcting himself "—our friends said that you were upset."

Relationships are built on communication, and I know that it was hard for Theodore to do so. So I won't make it harder for him and lay it all out. "I was upset, yes. But I also said that it was okay for you to spend time with your friends."

And after a second, I added. "And it's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything."

Theodore frowns, taking a seat on the bench besides me.

STEP TWO: make things clear

His chest feels heavy at my words. He doesn't like knowing that I think I wasn't his girlfriend. Because, if I really wasn't, was it normal for him to like me as much as he did?

He has to say something.

"But you are, aren't you?" He asks, brows furrowed.

His heart is leaning, waiting and waiting for an answer. His eyes flutters shut, and he doesn't know it. Wishing and wishing that I would say something.

"Theo." My voice comes out softer than I intended for it to be. "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

His heart is speeding up. And he thinks that there should be a guide book on how to be in a relationship with pretty girls. But he guesses that he's being guided by one right now.

THE BASICS ON HOW TO DATE PRETTY GIRLS (FOR ROOKIES) by Theodore's and I friends.

His words get caught in his throat. Isn't it so incredibly obvious? He wants to say. Isn't it so incredibly obvious that I've bewitched him? He doesn't say it, but he does nod. And he hopes his nod conveys just how much he wants to be mine.

"Okay," I said first. "I'll be your girlfriend." But of course, things can't always be that easy. "If you ask me properly."

STEP THREE: take things slow

He blinks at me slowly. As if he's only just learning how to properly function; a shift in his eyes caught my attention though, knowing that he's finally processing my words.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows that I like him just as much as he likes me but he's nervous about it all. Forgive him for being new to this dating thing.

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow —even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me— he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

"Okay." I nod. "So what should we do first boyfriend?"

Theodore mulls everything over before he turns to me, his hair falling into his eyes. "What do you want to do girlfriend?"

I can't tell whether his hand reaches for mine, or mine his, but I knew that our hands found one another. "Go on a Date."

Theodore lifts our intertwined hand up, placing a careful kiss on my hand as he nods. "Let's go on a date."

STEP FOUR (UNOFFICIAL): kiss, go on dates, be happy!

note: if this guide works, please take the authors (Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy) out to dinner, all expenses paid by guide user (Theodore Nott).

— from bee: i lost the initial draft for this which was a lot longer and had to restart all over 😵‍💫😵‍💫 this wasn’t what i had planned for it to be like but it’s cute and im happy with it anyways!!

some other songs i used for inspo for this fic:

say something - twice

rookie - red velvet

+ bonus scene: The table goes silent as Theodore picks up the check, waiting with bated breath on how much it came out to be.

And despite knowing that all the Slytherins + Harry would be able to handle the bill without making a dent in their vault, they're still all anxious to know the price.

Theodore pulls out his card, sleek, black, and hands it over to the waiter. Once the waiter left, he turns to us. "I'll buy you dessert if you can guess it."

The group starts blurting out numbers, startling the other customers but they couldn't seem to care less. Beneath the table, with his finger tracing the skin of my thigh. Theodore writes the price, and inching a bit lower, he adds; "make me proud, sweetheart."

Safe to say the group wasn't all too happy to know that I was the only one who not only guessed right, but was right number by number. Draco would later on whine about this, something along the lines of: "Girlfriend privileges."

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott humor #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing

2K notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 7 months

Text

YANDERE!SatoSugu x Reader

This is mainly based on a post (of @appleblueberry-pie ), that was just complaining that there was rarely any Fluff material from Yandere Poly Gojo and Geto (and that they are mainly seen as bullies of their darling) and holy shit! Is right. So I applied the "if someone else doesn't do it, I'll do it!" I hope you enjoy it.

PART 2 OUT!!!

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral/feminine

WARNINGS: SOFT YANDERE GETO SUGURU AND SOFT YANDERE GOJO SATORU, UNHEALTY MINDSET, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATION, Gojo's god complex (minor), canon Divergent (Geto doesn't get corrupted...complelty), Gojo x Geto x reader, strange amount of domestic fluff towards the end. VERY LONG POST

okay.... you're screwed.

or well not so much.

What Satoru and Suguru have as a Yandere combo is that they balance each other in their worst aspects and end up being much more pleasant than if they were separated (this is more noticeable in the case of Gojo but let's talk about that).

Let's say they meet you at Jujustu High, a new classmate. which precisely stands out because of how innocent you seem, how good you are as a person.

clearly without having gone through the same traumas as most third years by the time you integrate.

You only entered to the Jujustu academy out of a desire to improve your growing skills and help people in the process. something very genuine.

So when they both become interested in you (cutie), they give each other that typical knowing look and proceed to plan how to approach you.

At first they just saw all this as an innocent Crush and in a way something new, welcome.

However, the more they watched you to know how to be close to you, the more they found out about you, the less innocent it seemed and their need to want to know everything was more... morbid to say the least.

Gojo is the first to say out loud his darkest thoughts about it, about how he wants to follow you all the time, to make sure you're safe of course! This world is so dangerous for someone so friendly, he says. They would eat you alive. he says.

However, Geto is the one who puts his feet on the ground, telling him that they must be patient, try to take you to them with caution and tenderness, since under that logic, they cannot tear you away from your world as if nothing had happened. No. you are fragile he says. in general more self-critical about these obsessive thoughts.

Gojo is bad at saying no to Geto, so he reluctantly agrees.

and that was how you officially meet them.

seeing them as pleasant companions who seemed to have a normal attraction towards you. They weren't very subtle, but they weren't as persistent as they would otherwise be(Japon, y'know)

apart from the fact that they make you feel strangely...safe in some way. Having the two strongest students on your side, helping you at every step, made you feel protected by something superior (which was not entirely a lie) and above all as if you were part of that. Like when a young lion joins the pride, that's how you feel.

at first.

because the feelings of simple companionship were slowly evolving through certain gestures, whether it was that they accompanied you home, gave you some compliment on your appearance or when You change something, or because of some lesson learned, no matter what it was, everything together left you quite stunned, but in the good sense!

Besides, they are very good friends! You can vent to them about anything, tell them about ideas you have about future techniques that you want to try (they volunteer, mainly Satoru because of the Infinity theme), if you have any problems with money or something like that, they will give you a hand(Even if You don't ask for it!), etc.

The more they get to know you, the harder they fall, and the more they do, the stronger the obsession becomes.

it can not be helped! Now that they are sure that you are even more perfect than they thought, they cannot risk ruining everything, they must follow the plan little by little in small steps..

If someone tries to bully you, don't worry! either Gojo or Geto (or both) will have a "talk" with that person and 1- they won't even dare to look at you after that or 2- you won't even know what happened to them.

If you ask either of them, they'll just tell you that "he must have left due to lack of talent" or something like that. although the way they speak somberly says otherwise.

although if a comment like this especially stuck, they won't tolerate it, they won't let you think badly of yourself, they will try to cheer you up, either by doing exercises that they know you're good at to show their point or simply going to clear your head by riding a bike.

We could say that in general terms, they do not want you to lose that innocence and purity that characterizes you above all else, you are above that. They don't want to see that shine disappear, God forbid that you ever lose the faith that keeps you standing. You are too precious for this.

I'm assuming you wouldn't have any love interest, because otherwise... you'll most likely have to deal with his recent disappearance or him suddenly walking away from you.

Simultaneously, they themselves became bolder with their advances. giving more direct compliments, or pick up lines, having more trusting physical contact with you (hugs, having an arm around your shoulders, kisses on your cheeks, etc.).

It was a slow process that left you wondering, when the hell did this happen?

but at the same time you noticed several things out of place.

For example, you no longer hung out with anyone but them, NOT EVEN Shoko or anyone, just them. and it's not like you have a chance to be alone to do it, going to the park? Satoru happened to be there, are you staying late at Jujutsu High? Geto finds you because he coincidentally had to clean that room.

Of course, you can talk to them through text messages or calls, but at the same time you have the feeling that it is not worth highlighting these facts, since it would make you look like a paranoid crazy person, right?

If you mention it to either of them (or both of them), Gojo would probably play it off as a joke and brush it off, saying that they are just coincidences and that you shouldn't worry about such trivial things. Geto is more understanding and understands why you might be suspicious, but he reassures you that they would NEVER do anything to harm you and above all, what's wrong with spending time together? They like you, you like them, so what's the problem?

By now, your relationship with them becomes a kind of unofficial romance, somewhat odd, but pleasant. I mean, they are quite cuddly and make sure you don't hurt a hair on your missions, you even get back in touch with some friends now that you seem to accept them.

everything seems perfect.

but then Riko happens.

and Geto and Gojo almost lost it

and you can easily see how bad it affected their mental health. They became more paranoid, less joking, more serious about work.

and Mimiko and Nanako also passed by, although they were some fresh air in comparison (along with a certain Megumi), but you noticed that Geto and Gojo's behavior towards you changed again.

One day, they came to your house, they told you that you had to come with them, it sounded serious and because of the problems they had recently, you didn't have the heart to say no.

They went to Gojo's house, just to talk about what had happened the last few months, both of them in a way opened up to you, saying how much they were now worried that you were going to die because of some enemy that they couldn't handle, that something could happen. tear you away from them, they couldn't handle it.

The though of lost You forever

Or that you could run away...

All of this wasn't a lie, not at all, they feel that way, but Geto and Gojo left several things out, all with the intention of not scaring you so much, but in all the whirlwind of emotions, they let out several terrifying things.

and honestly it's kind of creepy.

but at the same time you realize the situation you are in. alone with the two of them. in the Gojo clan house. probably with Megumi and the twins sleeping peacefully somewhere. with both waiting to see what your next action is in this regard.

and you honestly don't know what to do. I say, these are the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers, even if you are strong, what chance do you have of going against them?

And more importantly.....would it be that bad? In part they are right (or you think they are), the world of Jujustu is ruthless. Who says that eventually you won't see all your companions die? Wouldn't it be better to leave it in favor of a more peaceful life with... them?

You weigh the pros and cons, and you just give up. much to the delight of Gojo and Geto. which is when their tendencies that you suspected come to light more. which in a way only reaffirms your decision (how bad would it have been if you had decided to refuse....).

They're both pretty clingy, but they have some traits that, like I said, contrast each other's negative points and make them a good Yandere combo to have.

Gojo, for example, is a fairly insensitive yandere on his own, or that although he cares about your feelings, he is bad at identifying them, here comes Geto, who helps him be more empathetic with the situation and above all be more patient with you.

e.g. When you first came to "move" with them, if it had been Gojo, the process would have been much faster, but thanks to Geto it was more "pleasant" and he got to know you much better to understand your standards and fit into them. This Yandere Gojo understands better that you are A PERSON unlike the, so to speak, "Canon Yandere Gojo".

Geto is nicer, but he is obsessive and a little delusional when you are already with both of them, something that does not happen with Gojo (at least at the beginning), although he is more in tune with your emotions than Gojo, sometimes he is not in tune with certain needs as a result of your context.

For example, at first he doesn't quite understand why you should inform your family that you are "moving" with them, because in Geto's eyes, they are your family. but Gojo (surprisingly) is the voice of reason and tries to explain your behavior with the fact that you don't want your family to worry, nothing more(translation: You don't want to leave them)

Since the two of them are in this together, they tend to use a certain Good Cop/Bad Cop dynamic, but more like the Indulgent Yandere and Overprotective Yandere type of dynamic. You can't completely blame them after what happened to them with Riko.

Needless to say, you're not a Sorcerer anymore. but at the same time you have a much more powerful position than before, I mean, you are the fiancee of The Strongest's, Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. You are safe from any target that the big fish may try, for the peace of mind of both of them(and kinda you)

and in a way, it's nice. Mimiko and Nanako keep you company constantly, asking you to play with them, tell them stories, do their hair, etc. quite domestic moments that you feel you've been missing somehow.

Megumi passes by from time to time too, but he is more distant, you understand, but he is a polite boy, apart from if Gojo or Geto are not there (which is strange) he will ask you for help to understand some writing or task, even techniques, well you will have left your career in half, but you're still useful.

If you try to leave without permission, there would be no consequence as such, you would not even be very far from the state until Gojo or Geto (mainly Geto) intercept you. Geto usually takes this as an opportunity to walk together around the state and hear you tell him about your day. Gojo would simply take it as some kind of game, as if you had played hide and seek and he had "found" you.

They are jealous, but their jealousy is not born from a lack of trust in you, ever, but rather a lack of trust in others. You are never to blame for anything.

They have definitely killed those who have tried anything with you after they have you. They just never do it in front of you. although you can assume it when only one of them goes to sleep early with you and the other arrives in the early morning while you listen to the shower tap.

Neither of them like (and in fact, hate), the idea of hurting you, physically or mentally, as I said before, they are much more patient together than apart, so they are willing to wait for you and for you to completely open up to them again.

which leads to time passing, you accepting your situation and Even findind a balance between You and them(which is somehow healty), however falling into a great depression. do not misunderstand! You love your husbands, however it has been a long, long time since you have seen anything but the Gojo State ground and four walls and it is quite depressing.

Obviously they notice this change in attitude, and they are not happy, yes, they want you to be safe, but above all they want you to be happy with them, so, again, they put together a little plan.

One day you see them strangely smiling, while they simply accompany you in your daily activities, at meals, and at some point they convince you to go to sleep earlier than usual. Why? The only response you get at the time is a "secret🤫" sign.

You go to sleep, but in the middle of the morning (it still seems like night) you feel them tenderly waking you up, you know it's them, but you have no idea what they are planning in the middle of the night. Geto and Gojo carry you to either of their cars and leave the state, much to your surprise.

When you ask them where they are going, they simply respond in unison "wherever you want" and you are... shocked, but you can see that it's not a joke. and a very warm feeling blooms again.

They were out most of the morning, going to the places that were open (which being Japan, there were not a few), cute cafes, McDonald's (Gojo's fault), going crazy around in the car, floating with Gojo's infinity or in the Geto's rainbow dragons--

buying slushies at a 7/11 (Geto can't stand the cold much, but he overcomes it for you, Gojo laughs at the expression in his face when he freeze his brain), watching a movie, and before you know it, the sun is already rising.

They stay and watch for a while, while they just talk nonsense or something like that, you're just absorbing all of this while you can, as if this will never happen again.

Geto and Gojo look at you in silence, enjoying seeing the shine in your eyes again, but simultaneously doubt arises in both of them: how are they going to tell you to return home now that you are so happy? and honestly they didn't think much about what to do after this...

but suddenly Geto says that they could make this a monthly thing, since it really was something fun, and that it would be a shame not to repeat it.

Gojo (still somewhat surprised by the improvisation) agrees, Socercer's life is hard, he needs at least once a month to spend it with his two favorite people, right?

You know they're serious when they look at you smiling, and you nod vigorously (you're so shocked by this new but welcome change that you can't even speak).

That's how it is decided, shortly after you fall asleep again, Gojo carries you to the car.Geto and Gojo look at each other, touched by your sleeping figure.

They know they made the right choice. like you.

Shares, reglogs, and comments are very welcome!

872 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (14)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, kind of hate sex, but at the same time love sex, smut, angst, violence, swearing, anxiety ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He tried to be forewarned and careful, to think about not letting his guard down, but the moment his wife started to ride him he lost his temper.

He couldn't believe how different the experience was compared to what had happened to him in the brothel that day, his face pressed against her soft, firm breasts, sucking and licking them, her lovely nipples hard and swollen with desire.

The thrusts of his hips were desperate, sloppy and fast, the closeness of her warm body, her scent, her hands entwined in his hair, her fleshy muscles that squeezed and sucked his fat cock made him not even know when he came, panting and moaning loudly, surprised at how shockingly intense pleasure shook his body.

He closed his eyelids, feeling her walls clench against him in fulfilment – she rose and fell on top of him for a moment more with sweet, helpless cry, cuddling him into her. He breathed loudly with his lips pressed against her naked, hot, sweaty body, his face deep between her breasts.

"I love you." He heard her whisper and opened his eyes, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, his long fingers involuntarily digging into the soft skin of her buttocks. "I've always loved you."

For some reason he wanted to cry at her words.

He swallowed hard, thinking of how for years he had dreamed as a child that once they were married she as his wife would whisper it in his ear every night, that their affection would be their sweet secret, his reason to be proud.

His mother did not love his father as a man despite him being king; she did not spend her nights with him, she was not his lover or confidante, he never witnessed her speak to her husband the way his niece spoke to him.

The thought that he could surpass his father, have something that no one else had and that could be the envy of other men filled him with pride.

Something that neither his father, his brother or Criston Cole had.

When he lost his eye and his mother decreed that he should marry someone else, foreign women suddenly began to appear around him – lords from all over the kingdom arrived in King's Landing on any pretext hoping that the Queen would look on their daughters' candidacy with a kindly eye.

Despite his mother encouraging him to befriend them, he was reluctant to do so and often made them cry with his behaviour.

"You have a wonderful collection of books, my Prince." Said softly a girl with a pleasingly shapely body and beautiful light hair tied in an intricate braid, her eyes blue and shining, she was Lord Stark's niece and spoke with a slight northern accent.

He looked at her reluctantly; his mother forced him to show her his collection of volumes on philosophy and history on the excuse of giving them an opportunity to speak in solitude, which he had absolutely no desire to do.

She was kind, calm, smiling, graceful and charming, ironic and warm at the same time – looking at her he thought she was the perfect candidate for a wife.

So why didn't he feel anything standing next to her?

"Mmm." He hummed, not knowing what he should answer, his gaze fled out of the window, to the courtyard.

He imagined it wasn't her standing next to him, it was the one he was trying to forget, his mind involuntarily beginning to suggest to him what he would surely hear from her mouth.

"You read so much about human nature and mind, uncle, and you cannot behave properly towards a lady. So I offer you a word of advice − you should, with your characteristic haughtiness and coolness, tell her the history of our lineage, which she will pretend to listen to with interest. Some gentler expression would not hurt either, though I do not expect such far-reaching concessions from you."

He smirked involuntarily under his breath, imagining that he opened his mouth and replied to her that her taunts were already boring him, that he expected better rhetoric from his betrothed when it came to the vices he understood she had just accused him of.

He knew she would have laughed merrily at his words, seeing his grimace of amusement, the way his lips barely visible curved, the glint in his eye, something that would never escape her notice.

Little tease, he thought.

He shuddered as he heard the rustling of pages and suddenly returned to reality, glancing sideways, surprised to see Lord Stark's relative flicking through a small book he recognised immediately.

The Reflections on the Dignity of the Ancient Philosopher Areon.

He snatched it away from her; he heard her loud gasp of surprise, a look of uncertain dismay in her eyes, her lips twitching in the realisation that she had done something wrong.

"− I apologise, my Prince, I didn't mean to, I –" She began her speech, speaking of her love of philosophy, of how much it fascinated her, but he was only focused on putting down the book he had lent his niece at the time, slipping it into its place with reverence.

That day she kissed him for the first time, he thought with rage, bitterness and regret.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at the memory of that traitor, that little whore who was exactly like her mother and, like her, was probably fucking her guards now, no longer minding him.

He thought about it, sinking into his memories as looked at her, at her gentle face immersed in sleep, at her swollen lower lip where he could see the clear red mark of his cut.

She could have killed him and run away, but she stayed and married him.

Unwittingly, his hand placed on her warm cheek moved, his thumb stroked her soft skin in a tender, gentle motion, from which she lifted her eyelids, he heard her quiet sigh of disapproval.

"Sleep, uncle. You are exhausted." She whispered, her long, slender fingers touching his jaw and running over it. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her touch, on her scent, on the closeness of her naked body, on the feeling of her warm breath on his face.

"I can't." He replied quietly, realising that all the feelings, all the grief but also all the hopes that had been building up inside him for so many years were now flowing out of him like a river, sealing their destiny, the discomfort and pain of his cut hand and mouth reminding him that he was indeed her husband now.

He didn't care about anyone else's opinion – their wounds were proof of their marriage, they had spent the night together and she was no longer a maiden.

There was nothing they could do.

He knew that word of what he had done would reach Lord Baratheon one way or another, however for some reason he did not fear his wrath.

He recognised that more important in the eyes of the gods and himself was the will of his dying father the King, which he had carried out like a good, devoted son.

Why should he be ashamed of this?

Why should he have to explain it to anyone?

He opened his eyes, surprised when he felt her rise up on her elbow and move closer to him, lifting slightly so that her lovely, plump breasts were at the height of his face. He sighed quietly as she embraced him and pressed his face between them, just as she had when they were still children, when he had sought refuge in her arms.

He snuggled into her warm skin, feeling suddenly strangely reassured and safe, embracing her delicate figure with his large hands, letting her fingers play with his hair; something in her closeness, in her tender gestures made his eyelids begin to close of their own accord, growing heavier and heavier with fatigue.

"I'm here, husband. You can rest." She whispered softly and he simply fell asleep, not letting her out of his embrace until morning.

They both flinched as they heard the loud pounding of someone's fist against the door of their chamber in the morning; he raised himself up on his shoulder, his lips tightening, the angry voice of Criston Cole on the other side.

"My Prince, open at once!"

He rolled his eyes, feeling a squeeze in his throat, knowing what awaited them now and glanced over his shoulder at his wife.

She was looking up at him lying on her back, bare and beautiful, a sort of strange calm and certainty in her eyes that gave him courage.

Neither of them had any intention of denying what had happened.

"Cover yourself, my love." He said to her matter-of-factly, and she immediately pulled the furs over her naked body without rising from the bed, watching him, lying on her side as he put on his breeches and shirt in a hurry.

He walked to the door with a lazy step and opened it, facing his mother's sworn protector. He saw that Criston's gaze immediately went to his slit lips and then to the figure of his niece lying in his bed; he swallowed with difficulty, as if trying to remain calm.

"Disturbing rumours reached your mother, my prince." He began, and he involuntarily chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

How could he have failed to see the hypocrisy behind this fawning curtness for so many years?

"You probably mean the fact that I've finally fulfilled my father's last will, which was weighing on my conscience and heart." He said dryly, knowing full well that his father's will was essentially of secondary importance to him; it was, however, a perfect justification for his act and the manner in which he had done it.

Criston Cole drew in a deep breath, rage in his gaze.

"The Queen is waiting for an explanation." He said.

"I have nothing more to convey to her than what she already knows. If she desires it, let her come to me in the flesh, and I will explain everything to her in detail. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to take a bath and eat with my wife." He said coldly and nodded at his servant nearby, the boy, pale and horrified by their exchange of words immediately turned and moved ahead to obey his order.

Cole turned angrily and disappeared around the bend, clearly intent on conveying his words to his mother. He glanced at his guards, who stood before him with lowered heads, afraid to lift their gaze to him.

"No one is to disturb us. Order that a tub be brought to my chamber and that meal be prepared for us."

He looked thoughtfully at the figure of his wife while lying comfortably in a bath tub filled with hot water; her servants had to help her put on her gown which they had brought from her chamber, the same one he had seen her in then, in the courtyard, many years later.

Something captured him in that choice of attire, in that wordless expression that they were both starting from scratch.

She looked at him when they were finally alone, staring at him for a moment in silence, only the quiet splash of water around them accompanying even the slightest movement of his body.

"What are you planning?" She asked at last in a quiet, tired voice, as if she sensed that they would be surrounded on every front, that their choice may have been driven by the need of the heart, but it also complicated everything even more.

He sighed heavily, looking away, resting the back of his head against the edge of the bath, staring blankly at his bookshelf filled to the brim with books and a small volume he recognised instantly between dozens of others that he knew he would always associate with her.

"There is no way back now. I believe, although you may disagree with me, that at last, after years, the will of heavens has been done. Our marriage is not just our whim, but an obligation that my father set upon us before he died. He foresaw what would happen and he was not mistaken."

He replied finally, glancing at her, feeling his heart pounding fast. He noticed with relief that her face was calm, her gaze gentle and warm, the way it had looked when they were children, when he had subconsciously sensed that she understood him.

She nodded, confirming his assumption, letting out a quiet breath, involuntarily touching the cloth he had wrapped her hand with before they sat down to their meal, wanting to be sure her wound would heal properly and not give into any infection.

"I cannot imagine how Lord Baratheon would let such an insult pass without consequence. His wrath, like your mother's and grandfather's, will be great." She said calmly, swallowing quietly; the tip of his tongue hit the inside of his cheek, pondering her words, feeling pleased that he felt the will in her to find a solution that would satisfy them both.

That she had taken seriously what he had included in his letter.

He wanted to reply to her that he had already thought it through, but he flinched when suddenly the door to his chamber opened. He turned, furious, thinking that it was his mother who had dared to enter unannounced, however, he only blinked when his brother-king appeared before him, looking at his niece then at him, the door closed behind him with a loud crack of wood.

He held out his hand to her and she immediately handed him a white cloth to wipe himself in, his chemise and his breeches, which he had hurriedly changed into – they looked into each other's eyes, wordlessly sharing their fear, her gaze sad and weary.

His brother grunted, glancing at him with a loud sigh.

"Leave us, niece. I would like to speak to my little brother. Helaena is waiting for you outside and will escort you to your chamber." Aegon said calmly. She glanced at him uncertainly, and he nodded for her to listen.

He led her away with his eyes, and as the door closed behind her, there was an awkward silence between them. Aegon snorted after a moment, as if amused, moving towards; he grabbed a jug filled with wine and two empty goblets, placing them on a small wooden table standing between two chairs, taking a seat on one of them, filling the vessels to the brim.

"Sit down, brother. You won't deny me today." He said lowly, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat and a cold sweat on his back, thinking that he had to do as he was told.

He approached him slowly, taking his cup and sat down on the other side. Aegon looked at him sleepily, his head leaning against the back of the chair, his lips slightly parted in some strange kind of thoughtfulness from which he felt uncomfortable.

"Remember the time you hit me in the face because I said she didn't have tits nor arse?" He sneered and he nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, thinking that perhaps the alcohol would give him the nerve to somehow get through it all.

If he had his approval, the support of the King himself, the matter would be a foregone conclusion.

"I thought at the time that you were completely mad, that you were trying to make up for the lack of a dragon of your own with a little squealing girl who would praise you to the skies for life and boost your pathetically low self-esteem." He added finally, and he pressed his lips together, letting out a quiet breath, not looking at him, not wanting to be provoked.

"Helaena told me that she sent you letters for eight years. Is that true?" He asked, and he flinched, looking at him shocked, completely not expecting the question.

"What?" Escaped his lips like a mumble, panic in his mind.

How did she know about this?

Was she sifting through his things? Who else knew?

"Our beloved grandfather told her to find them in your chamber and bring them to him. He reasoned that you would not suspect her. But she decided, seeing how many there were, that she wouldn't do that to you. She told him that she had found nothing, that you must burn them on the fly." His brother explained to him, taking a loud, deep sip of wine from his goblet.

He lowered his gaze, feeling his heart pounding like mad in horror that his grandfather had perhaps sent someone other than Helaena, that perhaps some servant or guard was also looking through his things, her private correspondence to him alone.

"Let me see them. All of them." His brother-king commanded him in a low voice, and he looked at him in disbelief, pressing his lips into a thin line with rage, his free hand clenched into a fist.

"Believe me, you want me on your side in this matter, little brother." He sneered, raising an eyebrow, as if the whole situation, the fact that he needed his support incredibly amused him.

He swallowed the humiliation, setting the wine cup down on the table and walked over to his secretary's desk, opening the bottom drawer with a key tucked between the books. He slid it out and swallowed hard noticing the thick files of parchments bound together; he clenched his eyes, feeling bitterness and regret at the thought of not answering her for so many years.

Perhaps if he had done so sooner, neither of them would have to suffer so much now.

Perhaps they would have had a son or daughter by now.

He tossed them casually one by one onto the top of his secretary's desk and heard his brother stand up, coming towards him with his cup – the amusement gone from his face when he saw how many there were. He stood beside him, looking at it in disbelief, apparently wondering how he had managed to hide it for so many years.

He decided to give him the answer himself.

"I never wrote her back, but she still sent me more letters, every two months, for eight years. Many times I wanted to just burn it all." He said dispassionately, as if he was speaking about something unimportant or even annoying that only caused problems.

It bothered him that Aegon didn't speak so he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye; his brother was looking at the mountains of letters piling up thoughtfully, with a seriousness that he felt a squeeze in his throat from. He had no idea what he could expect from him, and that scared him the most.

He began to wonder if Helaena was really waiting for his wife outside his chamber, or if his brother had by any chance done something to her in agreement with Cole and their mother, if he was simply playing for time to distract him.

However, his brother finally spoke up.

"What will happen to my children? What will happen to them if I die and Jace and Luke survive? If they wish to fight for their rights to the crown? And if not them, then their grandchildren?"

He asked, looking up at him; only close enough he could see the bruises under his eyes indicating his lack of sleep and his constant drunkenness.

They both knew very well that alcohol was not just a pleasure for him, but an attempt to suppress his mind and what was going on inside him.

He stared at him with his mouth clenched shut, breathing loudly through his nose, having no idea what he should answer him.

His brother smiled, but it was a smile full of sorrow and regret; he took a loud sip from his cup, evidently feeling satisfied that for the first time in his life it was his younger brother who was unable to speak.

He walked closer to him, facing him straight on; he could smell the stench of alcohol from him, and it was only after a while that he looked into his eyes, tired and empty.

"What will happen to our family when the now old Vhagar will finally pass from this world like Balerion once did, and my younger brother will no longer be the rider of the greatest dragon in the world?"

His brother asked further, and he remained silent, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen, little brother. They will kill my children. Do you understand? They will undermine their right to the crown, because everyone is already undermining how I myself was crowned. I will die thinking that Aegon the Conqueror's crown will be their doom. My inheritance I will pass on to them." He muttered, his eyes growing redder and redder; he heard him draw in a loud breath, tightening his lips in an attempt to calm himself.

"I'm a bad husband. A bad brother. A bad man. But I swear to you, brother, I'm not a bad father." He breathed out through clenched teeth with a desperation he'd never seen from him before; he looked at him in disbelief and swallowed hard, only realising after a moment that he'd been holding his air.

"I know." He whispered with difficulty, feeling that his whole body was quivering.

He knew this because he had seen him many times when he was completely drunk, lying on the stone floor of Helaena's chamber by her feet, playing with them with their wooden toys.

He could hear their loud laughter as he imitated the sounds of a dragon coming over their army.

He devoted his time to them, doing what their father did not.

He was making an effort.

Aegon grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, tears of helplessness as usual when his older brother was in strong emotions streaming down his face. He smiled again, as if trying to make him realise something.

"Our father was a blind fool, brother. He was, but at the end of his life he made the right decision. You should have come to me with this matter. I would have helped you. No one would have questioned the nuptials made in the presence of the King himself."

He swallowed hard, feeling his jaw tremble, overwhelmed with shame at the thought that he felt burning under his eyelids, looking at him with a gaze full of disbelief.

All his life he had dreamed of Aegon defending and supporting him the way Jace had supported Luke, of him being the example, the fatherly figure that their King had not been to him, meanwhile he, his younger brother had had to drag him out of the brothels, watch him vomit in the filthiest streets of King's Landing, watch him fall, losing any remnant of respect or even compassion for him.

He didn't believe it made him want to cry, because some naive part of him wished that for once in his life he would support him, but knew full well that, as always, he would only be able to count on himself, that even his mother would turn on him in this matter.

"I was desperate." He finally uttered with difficulty, hearing that his own voice was low and hoarse, and grunted loudly, trying to control himself. Aegon laughed wryly, but it was a laugh full of regret.

"When she slit her veins I thought she had more courage than I did. After the coronation I thought about ending it all, but I didn't dare. I realised looking at her that I had never directed a single kind word towards her in my life. She tried to speak to me as a child, but I always mocked her. Once she found me lying drunk on the steps of the Red Keep; I wasn't even able to crawl into my chamber. She ran somewhere, came back to me and covered me with her coat. She asked me if I needed water, if she should send someone to me. And I didn't even thank her."

His brother said and chuckled under his breath with some kind of remorse that appeared like wrinkles on his forehead. He clenched his eyelids, trying to calm himself, trying to control himself, trying to remain composed and cool.

"I don't care how you do it. Fuck her day and night, she needs to carry your child as soon as possible. Neither our mother, nor our grandfather, nor our fucking stepsister will challenge the rights to the crown of an offspring born of the union of the Greens and Blacks."

He said, and he felt a single, lonely tear that he had failed to hold back run down his cheek, felt his eyebrows arch in pain, his throat squeezed so tightly that he struggled to catch his breath, felt his whole jaw tremble.

For the first time he thought he wanted to embrace him, to find comfort and support in the arms of his older brother.

They both flinched as a servant entered his chamber, bowing to them, terrified.

"Your Grace, I apologise for intruding without permission. A letter has arrived from Dragonstone."

When it appeared that it was to him that the words of his message were addressed, once he had read its contents he left his chamber like a storm, moving towards his wife's quarters, opening her door with an aggressive slam; she, Helaena and his mother all shuddered, horrified, apparently in the middle of some discussion.

"Get out. All of you." He said coldly, his brother standing behind him nodding at his mother and wife not to resist. Aegon was the last to leave, closing the door behind him; his niece looked at him with big eyes, her chest rising and falling in accelerated breath.

"What the fuck is this? Hm?" He hissed, walking towards her, throwing a rolled, unsealed letter in her direction. She caught it in mid-flight and turned it quickly in her hands, reading its contents, disbelief and fear painted on her face, her mouth gaping open, she looked at him pleadingly, shaking her head.

"You were spying for him this whole time? Fucking speak!" He shouted in her face feeling as tears of rage and disappointment one by one began to fly down his face, his whole body trembling with emotion, with grief, thinking that she had planned all this, that she had agreed to marry him to report to Daemon what was happening in the keep.

To manipulate him.

For a moment he thought she had run out of words.

"Aemond, gods, how would I? You would have found out, you know that's what would have happened. Surely Luke has told him what happened, t-that you allowed us to meet." She mumbled, and he grabbed her by the hair, tilting her head back, clenching his fingers in them, with the remnants of his strong will restraining himself not to shake her head, his lips clamped together in a tight line.

"Do you think I'll fall for this trap? That I'd let you fly with me and run away, let myself be killed by my uncle like some fucking fool? Or maybe you read too many of your romantic books as a child, hm?" He huffed and she cried out loudly, shaking her head, a look of horror and pleading on her face, her lips quivering as she tried to get something out of herself.

"I have no idea why he suggested it, I swear. I swear that if I had betrayed you, you would have found out. I wasn't spying on you. Please." She mumbled, and he felt a squeeze in his heart, because she had seeded doubt in his heart, because he wanted so badly to believe her, because a part of him kept repeating to himself that he would have noticed something, that he wouldn't have missed it, that after all, he had been watching her the whole time.

"I hate you." He muttered wearily like a small, miserable child, snuggling his nose into her warm cheek; he heard her loud, ragged sigh, her hands cupped his face, stroking his skin with her trembling fingers.

"I love you." She replied and he wept at her words, seeing nothing through the tears that flooded his face. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her abruptly, heard her gasp for air as he settled her on the wooden table, lifting her gown with an impatient flick of his hand.

"Fucking prove it." He exhaled, her legs instantly spread in front of him as if she knew exactly what he wanted, with an aggressive, quick movement he slid the material of his breeches lower and pulled her closer to him, not giving her time to react in any way before the fat head of his cock was already halfway inside her tight, throbbing cunt.

"− f-fuck − ah −" She cried out, tilting her head back; he groaned loudly, feeling relieved that she was wet despite the lack of his caresses. This revelation made him slam his manhood deep between her slick folds with the greedy thrusts of his hips; she laid back and pulled him to her, he leaned on his hands lying on either side of her head, panting along with her.

"− did you do it? −" He muttered helplessly, rooting into her with quick, deep thrusts, his lips parted wide as he felt how quickly she became moist, her tight, fleshy walls adjusted to his size, clenching against him. She shook her head quickly and squealed loudly as one of his hands slapped her buttock, leaving on it a red mark.

"− don't fucking lie −" He hissed out, feeling her wet muscles squeeze him wonderfully, sucking him inside her fleshy, hot interior; she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him, clenching her fingers helplessly on the material of his emerald tunic.

"− I don't − I don't − mghmm −" She mumbled with difficulty, his hand ran over her cheek, his thumb dug into her soft skin, parting her lips, their bodies slamming against each other quickly with a loud, lewd slaps.

"− you will leave me − betray me −" He breathed out on the verge of a sob, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and groaning loudly along with her, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of how good it felt to be inside her, her fingers weaving into his hair, her puffy, soft lips beginning to brush his face with soft, tender kisses.

"− no − no, my love − I chose you − gods, there was always only you −" She moaned pleadingly, and he gasped loudly, closing his eyes as he felt a sudden relief, thrusting into her for a moment more with deep, sloppy slaps, his hot seed filling her again, giving him a semblance of peace and fulfilment.

She put her arms around his neck and he pulled her upwards, snuggling her into himself, burying his face in the hollow of her neck, trying to calm himself, not knowing himself who he believed, what he wanted, what he felt.

He burst into tears.

For the first time so loud, so mournful, for the first time in this way.

He was afraid, afraid of losing her, of having to kill her, of having to live again in a world where she would not be by his side.

He shuddered when she hushed him quietly, when her hands began to stroke his hair, his neck, his back, her lips placing soft, gentle, lingering kisses on his skin, when he heard her whispering in his ear.

"After the first night following our arrival in King's Landing, after the night I spent with you, my father gave me a choice. He said:

If you want to marry him, I will help you, but if you decide otherwise, you will never send him a letter again."

And I decided. Against everyone and everything, uncle."

He felt his fingers involuntarily tighten on her back at her words – he froze all over, feeling heat in his lower abdomen and heart, some kind of hope that he tried to suppress with thoughts that it was a trap.

"He doesn't know you're my wife. He doesn't know you're here of your own free will." He said in a tired, empty voice, his half-hard manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

"That's why you should take me with you."

277 notes · View notes

mysticmunson · 1 year

Note

Alpha!eddie purposely being kept away from omega!reader because he has the urge to breed her. He becomes extremely aggressive and stronger than usual. Everyone keeps them apart because reader hasn't been with anyone before and they are worried eddie will hurt her. But he finally gets out and while reader is taking a bath he slowly pushes the door open and well you know what happens next. 😏

little glass doves: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

authors note: oh my, i love ur mind, i had so much fun with this and hope you enjoy it. feel free to send thoughts, feedback, or more ideas. much love :)

warnings: mentions of smut, brief smut, a/o/b dynamic, sexual markings (hickeys) (18+ no minors)

The relationship was only a few weeks old when Eddie presented as an alpha and, mere days later, you an omega.

Isolated for your presentations, you were inseparable when released, constantly by each other's side. Everything from your body spray, your toothpaste, and natural scent was making him drunk. It was just so fresh still, an entirely brand new situation for you especially who had never had a boyfriend.

Before, you and Eddie had been close friends and then started to date. He pulled out all the classics, a drive in, a walk in the park, and even going to some pop concert you had been talking about for weeks. But the farthest you two had gotten was oral.

Tasting you was intoxicating, still feeling the way your folds kissed his lips that dripped with your arousal. Your mouth on him made him weak, feeling like he could burst at any moment with only one thought on his mind. You.

So as you reunited, something always came up when you tried to be alone together. Nancy had, for some inexplicable reason, been walking behind the school when she spotted the two of you making out. He had the urge to just scream for her to go away, but it also made him realize fucking against the back of the school wasn’t an ideal first time.

Despite this, he littered your skin with hickeys from the quick make out seshes he could muster in between classes. His hand was like a vice on you, not wanting any space between your tingling skin. Only people could force him away from you.

It was the very reason Eddie sat with Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle at the diner just outside of town. The waitresses knew them by name, letting them have the best booth in the house, starting with french fries for the table.

“Dude, these fries feel like angels tap dancing on my tongue.” Argyle mused, mixing his ketchup and mayonnaise into an interesting pink color, dipping a crisp potato.

The surrounding boys agreed and Eddie ate reluctantly, only envisioning you. He would do anything to have you alone right now, but Nancy, Eden and Robin insisted on taking you shopping.

“Hey!” Steve yelped, blowing the paper of his straw at Eddie’s reddened cheeks due to a strange mix of frustration, arousal, and anger. “We’re trying to talk to you.”

“What.” He bit, crossing his arms and leaning against the turquoise leather seats that squeaked.

“We’re going to the movies later, you’re coming. It's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Jonathan explained, taking a sip of his Coke, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Shaking his head adamantly, he scoffed, bewildered they would even suggest. Typically, that would be his type of night, but not when he knew you'd be alone, ready for him at home. With your body becoming accustomed to your omega needs and desires, all Eddie could think of was pumping you full.

The idea of having kids didn’t thrill him until you, now he wanted to fill you to the brim, watching it slip out so he could push it back in with his fingers. He’d chuckle at your sensitivity as he gave you another load, your mascara running down your pretty cheeks as you begged him to fill you one more time.

He could see it perfectly, tempted to just crash wherever the girls had taken you and bring you to his trailer. Or even your home, decorated in soft colors and scented like pastries from the assortment of candles. He had only been over a few times as his trailer seemed to be the common meeting grounds, but even then, he thought of making you fall apart.

He’d get hard as you sat innocently, gasping when you felt him, sitting on his lap with wide eyes. He’d get you naked, grabbing your hips and fucking into you with miniscule time in between. It was almost shameful how much the idea of using you like a fuckdoll turned him on, but he would always make you finish, comfortable and loved.

“You’re not gonna see her tonight, man.” Steve sighed, looking with empathy at Eddie’s stern face that clearly was holding back a lot of emotion. Each word they spoke seemed to derail his plans, forcibly jostled around as if in amusement.

“What the hell are you guys talking about? I’ve been trying to see her alone for two weeks and something always comes up! I’m fucking over it.” Eddie huffs, voice raising slightly, drawing the attention of the older couple in the front, sipping their coffee.

They looked away once Steve swirled his finger, making them turn back around in shame that they had been caught.

“Can’t have any lil Munson-reno’s out there.” Argyle hummed, creating the nickname from the crevices of his brain, giggling to himself after he said it.

“That’s none of your business what we do-“ Eddie snapped, hands going to the table as he leaned forward, clutching the white, wooden table.

Jonathan grabbed his shoulder from beside him, yanking him to sit upwards and patted his back. He attempted to take a deep breath, knowing he was on a hormonal high, but also notoriously not a fan of people telling him what to do.

“C’mon man, she didn’t even do it before presenting and we all went to the same health class so we know alphas are a lot. Now, she’s an emotional mess and you,” Jonathan accentuates by poking his chest, “Are basically a hormonal bomb ready to impregnate anything. Just wait.”

Cringing at his wording, Eddie’s face scrunched as he grumbled. It was crude, but the worst part was that he was right. You probably needed something more gentle than what Eddie could give you at his heightened state.

“I won’t be rough, asshole.” Eddie all, but growled, fisting the white napkin in his fists.

“Eddie, you’re not a violent dude, we know that. But this? This is instinct, it takes over the second it happens.” Steve lectured as kindly as he could, “We know you care about her, but you’re already marking her up with the few minutes you do have alone.”

Why did they have to be right? He wished he had a shock collar that would zap anytime he went too rough, but you were so receptive, basking in it even in the few moments. His thought process was cut short when the waitress brought over his burger, thankful for even the smallest distraction.

The boys did a good job of entertaining Eddie for the next few days, just as the girls had been for you. Keeping you distracted was a different type of battle though.

You weren’t aggressively trying to run towards him, elbowing anyone out of the way. Your response was more solemn as you emotionally craved your boyfriend, not officially becoming alpha and omega paired. It registered as almost a cruel rejection, wishing for even a moment alone to prove how good you could be for him.

Thinking of him made your eyes haze, clutching to the shirt he left over weeks ago and not wanting to leave bed. Or crying over not seeing him for a few hours, something you never would’ve done previously.

“I know it sucks, babe, but we’ll be here to cheer you up!” Eden consoled, rubbing your back in small circles as you laid on your side on Robin’s couch. Eden was the only one who truly knew how you felt, presenting as an omega a few months ago, but Argyle hadn’t. Boys typically presented later, stereotypically alphas, but sometimes omegas or betas.

A week went by, Eddie was getting restless as were you. The brief moments in school were refrained to holding hands and sitting beside each other with far too many layers of clothes between.

He had accidentally dropped his DnD dice in your English class, having to rush out to meet a customer in the woods, so you picked it up. Twirling the blue D20 with white numbers, still not entirely understanding the game, but knowing enough to watch every Friday.

Passing by Dustin, you told him to mention the dice, when Eddie made his way back to campus. He nodded, not paying much attention as he and Mike argued about if riding their bikes to school was dorky or not.

You had made it home by the time Dustin told Eddie, holding out his hand for the sketches the older peer promised to lend him to trace. The younger boys rode off as he walked to his van, sitting in silence for a moment.

This was his chance, he could finally be with you alone in your home, surrounded by your dainty trinkets on your night stand and pretty dresses in your closet. Everything about you made him swoon no matter how mundane.

He talked himself out of it, reminding himself that you might need more time and getting riled up will only make him pent up. More than anything, he craved intimacy in other ways like your movie nights that occurred when you were just friends.

He hadn’t even realized he made it to your house until he stepped on your doormat, the crunch beneath his feet making him knock. A few seconds passed by until he knocked again, sighing with no answer.

The spare key was hidden under the mat, figuring you were listening to music or studying, and you assured him that he could let himself inside, even when just friends. His hands were shaking as he unlocked it, taking off his white sneakers inside.

Wandering around the quiet halls, he was growing more curious as to where you were, knowing you didn’t do any extracurriculars this week. Curiosity was shot down when he saw the light from the bathroom creeping into the rest of the walkway.

With no one due home for hours, you had left the door wide open, sitting inside the pure white tub. You looked completely relaxed, dewy from the heat steaming from the water, glancing over when you saw him.

“Oh, hi Eds,” You smiled, slightly embarrassed, “Y-your dice are in there.”

Fuck the dice. Not when you were sitting completely naked beneath a sea of white bubbles, skin soft from the creamy body wash you used. He trudged forward, clenching his eyes tight and inhaling.

He mentally slapped himself, making his way over to your bedroom, his dice resting beside your two petite glass doves. The two birds connected at the mouth, something you found at a trinket store, insisting you purchase it. He tried to forget you were in such a compromising position only feet away, but the memory only reminded him how gentle and sweet you were.

The pattering of feet brought his attention to the doorway as you stood, wrapped in a yellow towel, heat rising to your cheeks from the cleansing and intensity. He didn’t say a word as he shoved the small piece into his pocket, crossing his arms firmly, not in an intimidating manner, but just to keep him restrained.

“I’ve missed you, Eds.” You smiled, hand tightening around the top of the towel, covering just above your breasts. He felt his blood rushing, opening his mouth with nothing coming forward.

He reciprocated the longing with a chuckle, soon pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as you swarmed him. It was almost as if you were confining him. But all you had done was take a step closer, pressing your lips against his like he was being sunkissed on a fresh spring day.

“Sweetheart, I need you to say you want this or I need to leave.” He blurted, hating his proposition, but knowing he was far too gone to be around you. His jeans tightened as he bit his lip, feeling your covering skid over his goosebump littered arms.

“Please.” You whimpered, knocking all the wind from his gut as he grunted, lifting you up to toss you on the bed.

His kiss was fiery, plush lips tasting your vanilla lip balm, feeling your hands mangle through his curls. His hands went to your towel, ripping it away in a quick swipe, making you gasp at how it ran across your body.

He stood up to remove his clothes, a low growl filling the air as he stared at you. Your breasts still coated in droplets of water, your legs scented like your cotton candy shaving cream, and your pussy on display.

As his cock sprang free from his boxers, knot forming quickly, you gasped and he could see the way you clenched. The arousal seeped from your desperate hole, not mentally even understanding just how badly you needed this, how much better you’d feel.

Running his fingers through your folds, he leaned on top of you, one knee on the bed for balance. He felt your trembling, hands gripping his shoulders as if that would slow him down, but you didn’t want the motions to cease anyways.

“Want to be your omega.” You cried, his finger swirling around your hole, bringing his digits to his mouth. Somehow, you tasted more divine than before, like a perfect palate made just for him.

Angling himself, he planted both knees beside you, breathing heavily over your face. A tear or two fell against your cheeks, mouth opened for any form of touch he wanted to give, whether it be lips, fingers, or even just to humiliate you, you wanted to entertain him. To be his starring role, even for the next ten minutes, drawing the curtains until he was ready for the next performance.

His tip ran through your lower lips, moaning at how you felt, feeling so horny, yet so emotional. He felt like he could cry, how dainty you appeared to him in this moment, and how he just wanted to ruin you. He wanted you to be chanting his name, unable to construct any other thoughts than him. He chuckled, looking down at you with his soft brown eyes that now held something more domineering.

“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed as you awaited his response, seeing how desperately you wanted to be his omega, he thrusted into you as you cried out, “You already are.”

hi, thank u for making it to the end, im giving u a forehead kiss.

2K notes · View notes

petriwriting · 20 days

Text

Bad Ideas - Theodore Nott X Reader

Based on "Bad Idea Right?" By Olivia Rodrigo.

Summary: Y/n and Theodore run into each other at a slytherin party, but its a bad idea right?

A/N: Ex Boyfriend!Theo X Reader. meant to be light-hearted and fun, Y/N is in slytherin for this one. Not proofread. written on my balcony in about an hour.

Slytherin parties were always so much more than they needed to be. Maybe it was because rich kids love to party, Y/N thought. Most of slytherin house was full of old prestigious pureblooded families, and yes, they did in fact love to party. especially after a quidditch match they won against gryffindor by barely any points. It was a rough game.

The music was loud, and Y/n was already tipsy. It was a night to have fun, dance and solicalize. Pansy Parkinson accompanied y/n, just as drunk if not more. She was going on and on about some gossip she heard in the halls about some poor students sex life. None of Pansy's business, but she liked to gossip. Pansy went on, and Y/N was enjoying hearing the music and listening to pansy's story.

That is when Y/n locked eyes with none other than Mr. Theodore Nott himself. He was by himself, unusual for him at parties considering he usually had his friends surrounding him like a pack of wolves. He was smoking a cigarette, in the corner. Y/N quickly looked away, catching pansy's attention. "What is up with you?" She asked. Y/N shrugged. "its nothing." they said. "Obviously its something!" Pansy plead. "Okay okay." Y/N sighs, knowing they may get backlash for saying anything. "I saw theo." Y/N said blatantly. "No way he's here?" Pansy said, it didn't make sense since he usually frequented parties but she was pretty drunk. "Oh Merlin, you've got to stop being so hung up on him all the time" She exclaimed. "I am not!!" Y/n defended. "its a bad idea, you've been broken up, back together, on break and broken up again. you haven't seen him in like," Pansy begins to count on her fingers, with a hiccup. "4, N0-5 months." Y/n rolls their eyes. "Look it doesn't matter. like you said, its not a good idea right now.. I'll just pretend he's not here!" they offered.

Pansy was clearly over it, drunk enough to not care but not so drunk that she was slurring her words... yet. Pansy gasped, "Dray! i've got news!" she exclaimed, refffering to Draco who had just entered from acorss to room. Just like that Y/N was alone as they watched pansy walk quickly over to her blonde friend.

All alone... Until.

"Hey." Theodore's voice is soft, smooth for a smoker. He appeared out of nowhere. "Hi." Y/n says. "It's good to see you again." Theodore says, the air is thick. there's tension. "yeah you too." some old and unresolved feelings are starting to resurface between the two. Awkward silence. "Hey- sorry- this is so direct can we go back to your room?" Theodore says. Y/N reluctantly agrees.

In Y/N's room, its awkward. But it feels different. "Why did you want to come up here?" Y/N asks. "Because I miss you." Theo admits. he smells like whiskey and cigarettes. "I'm sorry." Y/N says. "don't be it isn't your fault I miss you. I just do." This gives Y/N a warm fuzzy feeling. "I miss you too, you know." Y/N says quietly. Theodore is now closer, staring at their lips in a sort of sad way, he was yearning. after a moment, their lips embraced.

[Insert your favorite smut here]

It's the following morning. The two are laying in bed, next to one another. Its warm, and it feels safe. When Y/N wakes, theo is already awake, laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. Y/N gets a good study of the side of his face. Its silent. Y/N looks at the ceiling, matching theo's body language. the silence is just deafening. Its an awkward and desperate moment of vulnerability for both of them.

"I still love you." Theodore says.

164 notes · View notes

aniharas · 3 months

Text

𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

pairing: anakin skywalker x padawan!fem!reader

summary: a flirtatious training session left anakin and his new student frazzled. but he knew that if she called, he'd drop everything and answer.

warnings: master/padawan relationship, sexual content, exhibitionism (if you squint)

wc: 7k+ oneshot

a/n: took some lyrics from agora hills and really ran with it. inbox is open for any suggestions! enjoy!

Their intentions were pure. She had caught Anakin on his way to his dormitory, begging him to train with her secretly. She and her master were being sent on their first mission together, and she insisted that she would meet her end if Anakin didn’t take her under his wing. “Please, Master Skywalker,” she had pleaded.

And how could he refuse? The poor girl was on her knees, tears pooling and threatening to stream down her innocent face. He agreed, only admitting that her master was indeed an atrocious teacher and that his own Padawan already knew everything he knew.

When their training started, she immediately realized that Anakin was an upgrade. He chose different approaches, not by the book. He pushed her harder, trained longer, and didn’t let her retire to her dormitory until her technique seemed flawless. Which is why on one particular day, Anakin had nearly torn out his hair in frustration. The moon was already high in the sky, seeming to taunt them as it loomed over the Temple’s garden. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this simple lesson was driving them up the wall. To him, it was simple: to transition from lightsaber combat to parrying blaster shots. But to teach her was like teaching a womp rat to tango.

It didn’t help that they both grew irritable with each passing minute, and it was inevitable with how stubborn they both seemed to be. A subtle roll of the eyes or a scoff would set each other off. Their patience waned, evident through the hits they traded with their practice lightsabers becoming more personal, ending with both on dust-ridden ground, beat-up and breathless.

“Okay, okay, let’s just…relax,” Anakin instructed with a stressed exhale, his face twisted from exasperation. Wordlessly, he motioned for her to do the same, to which she reluctantly followed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t start it,” she hissed, wiping sweat from her forehead for what seemed like the twentieth time. “I don’t get it. It all happens too fast, I basically have to react before it even happens. It’s not fair,” she whined, almost childishly.

“That’s precisely it,” Anakin cut in as he dusted off his pants, rising to his feet. “You wanna stay alive out there? Feel it before it happens,” he repeated, holding his hand out for her to take.

When she was back on her feet, Anakin quickly took her practice saber from her hands. “Hey, what are you-” “Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low and soft, much different from the annoyed tone he had moments before.

It was humiliating how quickly she obeyed him, her attempts to ignore the heat that seemed to ignite her skin. The courtyard was eerily quiet, or at least as quiet as Coruscant could get, only adding to the growing awkwardness between them. It was only when she was about to complain once more that she felt an unmistakable energy emanating from a certain direction behind her. “Do you feel it?” he questioned, his voice low to not break her concentration.

A beat passed before she answered him. “Yes,” she breathed, anticipation seeming to tingle in her voice.

“Feel my presence,” Anakin urged, his voice gentle yet commanding. “Sense where I am without seeing.” He began to circle her silently, holding his breath so he wouldn’t compromise his position physically.

At first, she tried to sense him with mere sounds, a vibration from the ground, but it proved futile. The wind that chilled her to her bones helped to camouflage any breath or sound that would betray him, and she knew that he always seemed to carry himself as if he weighed like a feather. How could someone so tall and broad move like a lothcat? When she actually began to try, the air seemed to carry faint whispers, brief waltzes of energy that danced around in her mind that just so slightly guided her senses. “You’re there,” she said unsurely, pointing in his general direction. A barely audible sound of approval resonated in Anakin’s throat, a low grunt, confirming her guess. “Good. Take it a step further,” he suggested. “Focus on how it takes shape in your head. Feel my intention,” he instructed under his breath. His whispers somehow seemed to echo off the walls of the temple. “Tell me where my focus lies.”

Initially, it was a bit hard to center her thoughts. None of this was anything like what her master taught her. It was oddly…intimate. But there wasn’t a chance she would let nerves stop her now, she had already gone all this way. With each (notably loud) heartbeat, she sought out the rhythm of his focus. She tried to envision it like a beacon in the darkness behind her eyelids, beckoning her, calling her like a distant star. Something began to flutter around in her mind–a fiery sensation that seemed to extend its grasp from the darkness towards her. A tingling feeling began to nip at her right hand. That was it.

“My hand. You’re looking at my right hand,” she said with certainty.

“Close, but not quite. Be more accurate.”

Really? Will it really come down to knowing what finger my enemy is looking at? After taking a moment to think, she answered him again. “My pointer finger.” Unbeknownst to her, Anakin’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Keep ‘em closed, let’s do it again. And put it together.”

She continued to list off different parts of her body where she could feel his focus linger from where he was. Her right shoulder, to her right. Her left knee, behind her. All reasonable places to strike in combat. He then trained her to sense where his gaze would relocate to. From her shins to her midsection. From her wrists to her foot. Perfect for sensing how quick an enemy can strike. It was becoming easy. From her neck to her chest.

She froze as the words left her lips, her heart quickening. Her chest, he was looking at her chest. Why was he looking at her chest? As if nature was asking her to relax, a gust of wind rattled the branches of the Great Tree that loomed over them, its yellow leaves seeming to shiver with her. The cold contrasted with the feeling in her cheeks as if urging her to think more rationally. Of course, how could she get ahead of herself? It wasn’t exactly the chest, it was the heart. It was a common place to attack in the heat of a battle, especially when aiming to kill. The Jedi try their best to not strike the chest, but many foes do attempt to go for theirs. It was crucial to sense in the heat of the battle, and Anakin was only helping her, right?

Anakin’s abrupt cough sliced through the silence culminating between them, causing her to wince at the abrasive sound. “Sorry– ahem, it’s just the cold. Making the air pretty dry,” he muttered in between the grunts that cleared his throat. He tossed her makeshift saber back to her, hiding the fact that the sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening. “That was good. I think you’re good to take a break for now.” The sigh of relief that escaped her mouth as she caught the stick was nearly involuntary with how tense she felt. She could only hope that he saw it as relief from relentless training instead of relief from how nervous she felt under his gaze.

Despite this, she felt saddened as she watched him trudge off to the opposite end of the space. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he began to twirl the stick that was his makeshift saber around him in what looked like a flashy dance, something that she just knew he did regularly from how natural the movement was.

Unknown to her, Anakin’s thoughts were growing rather reckless. Physically, he was always in control of himself. Not one misstep, not one mistake. He could give the galaxy a thousand reasons, if not more, to respect him. But his controlling his mind? Anyone close to him knew this was one of his shortcomings. One of his only responses was to grow stronger, to grow more powerful to make up for that failure. Another was lightsaber training. He seemed to find solace in the hypnotic spin of the stick, the very image cutting through the stillness of Coruscant’s night. His face, usually one would describe as a representative of determination, was now etched with a more lost expression.

And she was amazed, how could she not be? To do such a complicated maneuver while his mind was elsewhere was something she could never hope to replicate. But that didn’t stop the urge to take it as a challenge, to attempt to mimic his fluid motions. She attempted the intricate moves, stumbling and dropping her weapon every so often, but that didn’t stop her either. It didn’t seem like anything could.

It was then that she felt it – that prickly, warm feeling, expanding over the dip of her waist. It slowly inched its way down and over the curve of her hips.

Anakin truly hadn’t meant for his attention to slip so carelessly. But how could he deny the way that she so adorably tried to replicate his signature move? The pleasure that was the curves of her silhouette against the city lights? Had he been so incredibly naive? Of course, she could sense his intention; Obi-Wan had told him that anyone from Coruscant to Tattooine could. A growing hunger for the silly girl stumbling over herself across the courtyard.

She quickly shifted her stance so he couldn’t see the petrified look that adorned her face, pretending to be too absorbed in securing her hair with a spare ribbon to notice. She felt winded from the mere thought of him looking at her; why did that bother her so greatly? Once again, she tried to rationalize this feeling. Maybe he was just observing her technique. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe he was testing her. But that it was so distinctly Anakin, so spine-shudderingly Anakin, she felt it down to her bones. And even if he was just observing, he wouldn’t need to be looking there. The sensation was also different; it was slightly more passionate. If his focus before could be compared to a poke, this feeling was more of a gentle caress. It seemed to pulse with more and more of that passion the longer it lingered in an area for too long. So if he was testing her, what was he looking for? So maybe, she wasn’t overthinking his gaze on her chest earlier. She definitely knew she wasn’t overthinking as she felt the sultry, unwavering feeling rake over her chest. The subtle warmth that filled her cheeks earlier was now raging, slowly inching its way down her body, like she had set her own skin on fire.

“Well!” She sputtered out, her Padawan braid almost smacking her in the face with how fast she whipped her head around. “I– uh, think we should start again. Maybe sparring?” she suggested, too hurriedly for her liking. She swiped a few strands of stray hair from her forehead in a desperate attempt to look nonchalant. The feeling was too much to bear, and she feared that if it didn’t stop, her thoughts would descend to something less appropriate.

Her sudden exclamation seemed to startle Anakin, ceasing his movements. His breath hitched as his eyes refocused to meet hers. The pensive expression was wiped immediately, replaced with the friendly smile and the crinkle of his eyes that she had grown accustomed to. “Of course,” he obliged, motioning for her to come close. “Let’s get your stances down first.”

She thought that by continuing with sparring, she could distract herself from that forbidden feeling. There was nothing more relieving than whacking down the very man that made evoking a physical response from her seem so simple. However, Anakin only continued to tantalize her. Get your stances down first, he said. You’re not doing it right, he said. It almost seemed like it was an excuse to close the distance between them, and she questioned if there truly was a smirk on his face as she froze up once more.

His cold, cybernetic hand made contact with her arm, just above her elbow, raising it delicately. “Could you keep it right there for me?”

“Yeah,” she answered breathlessly, holding her arm as steady as she could, trying to ignore what it would feel like if his hands were anywhere else.

“Could you focus while you’re at it?” Anakin chastised as he placed his hands on her midsection and the small of her back, straightening her out. She could’ve sworn his tone was challenging her, teasing her.

True to her hard-headed nature, she quickly slouched over again, undoing his previous work. “Could you be nicer?”

The curve of his lips was unmistakable now, his head tilting as he stared down at her in what seemed an endearing manner. “You seem to be fond of pushing my buttons tonight,” he remarked, though without a single hint of malice in his voice. His hand roughly pushed at her lower back once more, forcing a perfect posture from her. It took every ounce of self-control she could muster to stop herself from prodding further. And what if I pushed some more? She knew she would’ve had him. It was a dangerous game to be playing, but she knew that as well.

Even though she had bit her tongue, the mischievous glint in her eyes told Anakin nearly everything. Was it his turn to be tested? He could feel himself teetering on the edge of that forbidden, yet savory feeling that he had been trying his hardest to keep in check. But how could he as he was touching her like this, angling her body exactly how he wanted it to be? He began to adjust her upper body, yet his hands lingered, fingertips gently tracing down her shoulder blades. The heat was starting to creep back into her body. Yet, it was different this time, and it was an unusual feeling. She anticipated the rush to her cheeks, but this time, it seemed to travel much farther down. Though she hated to admit it, she couldn’t help but feel like it would be nice to succumb to it as a pleasant shiver slithered down her spine. At that moment, she would’ve given anything to know what he was feeling. “Can you sense where I’m looking?” Anakin asked in a low voice. It always seemed like he could read her mind. But if he were to continue, all he would see was a frenzied, jumbled mess as she tried to recollect herself. “N-no?” she murmured truthfully, keeping her voice as level as she could. She lied, but it wasn’t hard to tell where he was looking. His gaze was like a warm fire, so intense that it seemed to envelop her whole body. Anakin laughed softly, reveling in the way that she was reacting so strongly to him. As to when this happened, he wasn’t so sure, but he wasn’t one to complain either. He moved slowly to position himself behind her, then leaned in to delicately whisper in her ear. “Can I show you?” “Yes,” she said in a voice that barely escaped her lips, almost involuntarily. It wasn’t just the enigma of his movements, a mere dance of shadows that still captivated her. Nor was it just the velvety nature of his whisper, so tender yet so affirming that it seemed to electrify her nerves. Regardless, she could feel herself melting away. To her, it was as if the very air she was breathing was thickening, transforming the tingling feeling in her chest into a desperate, all-compassing ache. Her resolve was reduced to a mere candle in the wind. Despite this, she was determined to get even with him. An intense desire grew within her, a desire to make him crack and crumble, to turn his limbs into Andorian jelly, to have him begging for her the way she desperately wanted to beg for him. She would knock that arrogant, yet pretty smirk off his face. But he had rendered her so helpless under his teasing ministrations, it wasn’t fair to her. He overwhelmed her. Just when the weight of the tension between them seemed at its heaviest, she abruptly pulled away, ignoring the immediate embarrassment that chilled her bones. Avoiding what she knew would be his intense eyes, she began to mumble, her speech slightly jumbled from how frazzled she felt. “Uh- I was asked to report to my master early tomorrow morning,” she stammered, hastily smoothing out her robes. She hated how easily her voice seemed to betray her lie, so she turned and hurried away without waiting for a response. Her steps began to echo as she ran inside, ominously leaving the famed Jedi alone in the courtyard. As she disappeared into the shadows of the Temple, Anakin barely had the chance to utter a single word, watching with a troubled expression as an uncomfortable silence fell over the courtyard. Every moment that led up to then began to swirl in his mind; all the subtle contact and the teasing words began to replay in his mind at once. The thought of himself crossing the line with her gripped his very heart, aching the longer he stared after her. It had seemed like every time he allowed himself to indulge in the impulsive nature of his passion, he ended up pushing everyone he held dear away. Is that what it is he considered her to be? “Dear”? Whether that was true or not, Anakin couldn’t deny the sense of loss that had begun to gnaw at him the longer he was without her.

But who was he kidding? He would be lying to himself if he said that was a first-time occurrence. For the past few meetings, he found himself dreading the end of their secret training sessions more and more. His desperation to keep her in his presence was under the guise of excuses. “You’re not leaving until you get this down”, or “Meditate with me until you feel one with the Force”. All things that a perfect Jedi master would say, all by the Code. The teachings of the Code that had been drilled into Anakin's mind seemed to taunt him about his feelings, remembering Obi-Wan’s and Yoda’s cautioning against attachments, and yet, the Force seemed to unpredictably guide him to this very moment, yet remained elusive in offering guidance once he got there. Teaching a girl the ways of the Jedi had made him long for her; a sad smirk played on his lips as he pondered the irony of that sentiment. He sighed, the weight of the situation beginning to settle on his shoulders. His gaze fixed on the floor beneath him, inscribing lines and meaningless shapes in the dirt with his stick as he pondered over what to do. Maybe he could explain himself to her, tell her the truth. Was there still a chance to fix things? Would she feel the same way? Then, as if the Force finally answered somehow, a chilly breeze rushed past Anakin, scattering the drawings that he had been working on. He scoffed, almost having a mind to curse out at the wind. But he relented, admitting defeat silently. Perhaps it was best to leave her alone. He had gone too far.

–

She had tried her hardest to focus on her upcoming mission, but her blooming emotions seemed to overshadow all else. She craved answers, using her alone time to plan out her words, words she needed to breach the unspoken feelings between them. The alone time would include pacing around in her room, attempting to gossip with Ahsoka, or using her pillow as a stand-in for Anakin as she recited her speech. With all this effort she had put in, it only added to the sting of disappointment as she noticed Anakin’s evasiveness. A palpable tension hung in the air when their paths inevitably crossed in the hallowed hallways, and when his eyes always seemed to land anywhere but on her, her heart panged. His excuses to leave every time she entered the refectory felt infinitely worse. Of course, she knew things would have been awkward after she had left so abruptly, but she didn’t anticipate it would escalate that far. Had he taken offense to it? It was common knowledge that Anakin was extremely volatile with his emotions, and even more widely known that he lacked the discipline to control them. Fear of facing her again clashed with the guilt of abandoning their training, and it wore him down each time he saw her walk by. His chest would grow tight, his jaw would tense. It would be the easy way out to continue to keep his distance, to tell himself that he was living the Jedi way. But once the day of her mission finally arrived, he couldn’t help but think that the Jedi way was bullshit.

As the dawn of her expedition arrived, she stepped into a craft hangar of organized chaos. The hum of the ships, the mechanical voices of equipment, and the stampede of footsteps only added to the dizziness from all the nerves that she had built up inside of her. She stationed herself at the entrance to her transport ship as she awaited departure, her fingers tightly gripping the hilt of her lightsaber in an attempt to quell the nervous flutters in her stomach.

But it was no use as the doubts began to fester in her mind. What if she wasn’t quick enough with her parries? What if she couldn’t sense an enemy attack before it was too late? Her own master hadn’t even told her anything about where they were going, explaining that it was a “good learning experience to face the unknown”. She swore if she could ditch her master, she would in a heartbeat. On top of everything, the unspoken tension between her and Anakin was what seemed to distract her the most. Even if she did leave abruptly, she definitely did not deserve the silent treatment from him.

She was about to escape the distracting noise of the hangar, trudging up the ramp to her ship until a strong grip on her shoulder nearly made her stumble backward. She jerked her head around to see the idiot who had nearly ailed her.

“What the-"

Anakin stood there breathlessly, panting as a sheen of sweat decorated his skin. “Shut up. Take this,” he said as he extended a small device towards her. A personal comlink, with an extra modem attached. When he was met with a hard, confused look, he huffed in annoyance before speaking up again.

“It links to me,” he explained, gesturing to his own comlink that was securely attached to his belt. “I’ve rigged it so you can contact me as long as you’re near a Republic satellite.”

She eyed the device warily. “Why now, Master Skywalker? You’ve been gone,” she whispered, a mix of frustration and suspicion in her voice as she replied.

Anakin sighed in disappointment at his own actions, nodding once to agree with her. “Which is why I’m giving this to you,” he elaborated, his brow furrowing. He then took her hand and closed her fingers over the metal, tube-like device. “Please,” he begged as he held her hand in both of his, the tone becoming more desperate as he finally met her gaze for the first time in a while. “Just…use it. Whenever you need me, swear to me you’ll use it. I’ll help you.”

As much as she wanted to fight it, the sincerity in his words was unmistakable, and it slowly began to chip away at her defense once again. With all the questions she wanted to ask on the tip of her tongue, she nodded once, allowing Anakin to attach the commlink to her belt. It was noticeable how they both seemed to hold their breaths in anticipation, at the proximity of their bodies.

Once he had pulled back, he found himself desperately missing the warmth of her body. And with what was at stake, he couldn’t afford to miss another opportunity to act on this feeling. Wordlessly, he roughly yanked her towards him, the urgency of the action contrasting deeply with the tender touch that followed. He held her close, his body pressed tightly against hers and his embrace firm, almost as if she would disappear if his grip faltered for just a moment.

Despite initially stiffening up, she didn’t want to dissect the swirl of emotions that surrounded them as the hangar’s intercom announced the departure of her ship. She glanced up at Anakin, her eyes blown wide and afraid. “What if I-”

“No what if’s, okay?” he quickly interjected, giving her a reaffirming squeeze before pulling back to see her more clearly. She looked natural in a Jedi mission uniform, she looked pretty. He caught his eyes wandering towards her lips, refocusing shortly after.

“You’ve got this. I trust you, just trust yourself now.” Reluctantly, he gave her a gentle push up the ramp, gesturing for her to continue.

Her eyes lingered on his face anxiously before making her way up the ramp. Once she was inside, she idly stood at the ship’s opening once the ramp began to eerily close, obscuring her view of him little by little. It was only then that she realized that she had to say goodbye. She could only muster a small, shy wave as the engine hummed to life, ignoring the calls of her master to accompany her as a co-pilot from the front of the ship.

"Make it back in one piece,” Anakin called out in response, giving a reassuring smile. “May the Force be with you.”

As the ramp fully closed and the ship began to ascend, she pressed her palms against the ramp door, almost wishing she could push it back open and he would still be there. Soon enough, the atmosphere of Coruscant began to slowly fade into a symphony of stars through the ship’s windows. She stared down at the comlink attached securely to her belt. Anakin’s lifeline to her. It shed a bit of light on how he felt, but now she was determined to make it back home, so she could uncover the whole truth.

–

The mission had been a success, unfolding with an outstanding performance from the Jedi girl. She anticipated every attack, adapted to the battle and terrain, and even helped devise strategies with the commanding clone of her unit. It left her master astonished, wondering as to when she had improved so much.

However, it didn’t go without casualties. She tried to warn her master about the disturbances she felt ripple behind her, hinting at danger. The warnings fell on deaf ears. As expected, the ambush of bounty hunters emerged from behind their ranks, resulting in a few clone deaths and an injured master. Luckily, she and her Clone unit helped escort him to safety.

She was more than overjoyed to return home from a mission success, unfortunately slightly marred by the recklessness of her mentor. She took pride in the fact that she was able to achieve the feat on her own, without having to cry for help. It made her itch for another mission, the nerves have turned into an addictive thrill. Upon their return to Coruscant, her master was promptly confined to strict bed rest, in turn, leaving her with nothing to do other than train and retire to her quarters, much to her dismay. The soft embrace of her duvet was enough to keep her captive in her dormitory for a while, a definitive upgrade from the stiff cushions of their transport ship. The drone of city life outside the Temple was slowly winding down to a hush, the occasional whir of a speeder zooming by. Staring up at her sky window, she glared at the stars in frustration. It’s not like she wanted to lie down doing nothing, but there was nothing she could do to help it. Yet another reason to despise her insipid mentor.

Besides, she found a better one.

Anakin. Anakin had crossed her mind for the first time since the mission, and she was unable to suppress the heat that flooded her cheeks upon the mere thought of him. He made her feel sane in the unhinged antics that came with their duties. The heat seemed to travel elsewhere when she remembered where their relationship had gotten to. She so desperately wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything that she experienced and more, but she didn’t have a clue as to where to find him.

It was then that she remembered something very important. The comlink. Her eyes darted to her laundry basket in the corner of her dormitory. She flung the blanket off of her body, scrambling out of bed and towards her laundry basket. She was glad no one was there to witness her digging like a feral animal for her Jedi uniform that she had discarded for nightwear. Eventually, she unclasped the metal device from the belt, cradling it in her hand.

Rushing back to the edge of her bed, she sat eagerly and fidgeted with the power switch. Then, a soft hum emanated from the comlink, and a sudden wave of nervousness washed over her body. Uncertainty colored her expression as she brought the mic up to her lips, contemplating the words she wanted to say.

Once again, she couldn’t convey much. “Anakin?” she began in a hush, glancing around nervously as if she was afraid about getting caught. She held her breath, wondering if he had even heard her. Her gaze was fixed on the comlink, unblinking. Impatient and as stubborn as she was, she began to grow tired of simply sitting there and waiting. With a frustrated huff, she began to put the comlink down until a static-like crackle sounded from it. Hurriedly bringing it back in front of her again, her heartbeat accelerating with each second that passed.

“I was wondering when you would decide to say anything,” his voice rang out, a subtle tone of amusement lingering. The moment she heard his voice, the air in the room seemed to shift, filling the space with relief and exhilaration simultaneously. She didn’t even notice her wide grin and a rose-like color filling the apples of her cheeks as she eagerly listened for him. “Congrats on your mission, by the way,” he continued, shifting to a more formal note, yet his pride for her was evident in his words. “Handled it even better than…well, that’s not the point, is it?”

The small jab at her master was enough to make a giggle escape her lips, covering her mouth in an attempt to hide it. After she composed herself, she brought the comlink to her lips again. “Thank you. I hope I didn’t worry you,” she hummed as she swung her feet off the edge of her bed.

She heard a scoff from his end. “Had me a bit worried since you didn’t reach out. An ‘I’m alive” would’ve been nice,” he playfully scolded, though she could recognize that the sentiment was very much real. “Well, is that all you wanted to tell me?” She hesitated, the words choked up in her throat. Truthfully, she had wanted to tell him everything – the rush of the battling droids, the ambush from the bounty hunters. She so desperately wanted a normal conversation where he was just her mentor. It was never as simple as that. He never was just her new mentor. The only thought that came to the forefront of her mind was the persistent heat that she felt whenever he talked to her. But how could she put that into words without sounding like an idiot? Suddenly, his words from before popped into her head. “You said- uh, to use this if I needed you, right?” she said daringly, though her voice barely audible to her ears. An unbearably long second passed until his voice returned. “Of course. You’ve got the floor,” he replied kindly, though his tone was a bit wary.

Taking a deep breath with her heart pounding in her ears, she decided to go for all the marbles.

“Anakin, it’s so lonely here,” she whined breathlessly, nearly regretting the words as soon as they left her lips.

“Lonely where?” he immediately interjected, an obvious strain in the way he spoke. “In my room.” She was immediately met with a long bout of silence, and it mortified her. Then, the brief sound of static followed by his voice once again. “Hold on,” Anakin said, sounding strangely distant. The line went dead, and she felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. She had ruined everything hadn’t she? Of course, Anakin was too nice to straight up reject her, but she would’ve rather him do that than leave her in such a panic. As she paced her room, chewing on her nails nervously, a tidal wave of overthinking crashed over her. Had she gone too far? Had he already gotten over her while she was gone? Was she too forward? Anxiety from potentially ruining what she had with Anakin clawed at her, each passing moment with the silent comlink gripped in her hand amplifying the feeling tenfold. Minutes later, a rapid series of knocks reverberated throughout her dorm. Startled, she nearly dropped the device from her hand as her eyes darted towards the door. The knocks grew in frequency and volume the longer she took to answer. They were urgent, almost frantic.

Scurrying over to the door, she was met with the sight of the man that she was tearing herself down over moments before. Her worry-ridden thoughts were quickly replaced with ones of concern. Anakin stood in front of her in his Jedi robes, panting like a madman, skin slightly sweaty with his hair disheveled. He had to take a moment to place his hands on his knees, using himself for support he attempted to rest himself. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She had asked him to come to her, and he did, evidently as fast as he could. “Anakin, you didn’t have to do that.” Anakin struggled to catch his breath as he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, yet his eyes shined with something that told a different story from the rest of his body. “Couldn’t …couldn’t stay on the comlink,” he admitted between breaths, his eyes unabashedly landing on her lips once again. “Not when you sounded like that.” Any doubt she had about his feelings immediately dissipated. She blinked slowly at him, her eyes blown wide, unsure of what to do. Maybe it was the way that her eyes resembled a lothcat’s or the way her lashes fluttered that seemed to spur Anakin into motion. Before she could even register it, her face was being desperately cradled in his hands, the contrast of the warm, calloused skin with the cold metal sending her mind into a frenzy.

In that instant, she was dragged into a heated kiss, the passion oddly feeling tender. The movement of his arms coming up to wrap around his neck only seemed natural as she returned his kiss, the whine that had been sitting in her throat finally escaping. She felt his teeth graze against her lips, nipping at them playfully. When on earth did a Jedi Knight learn to kiss like that? Was he smiling? And why was she suddenly being hoisted up into the air?

Her legs instinctively around Anakin’s waist to prevent herself from falling, relocating and tightening her grasp atop his broad shoulders. Turning them around, he pressed her back against her front door, the very action resulting in a small “thud”. The sound should’ve concerned both of them, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. His lips gravitated to her neck, the tender skin serving as the perfect way to mask his pent-up grunts that were now leaving his throat. It rippled vibrations across her sensitive skin, eliciting little sounds from her that rang like bells in his ears. Once he had learned that each kiss to her neck brought about a different sound, each one progressively grew more sloppy, more languid, more carnal.

Though she never had been kissed in such a manner before, she knew that no one else could rival Anakin. He was patient, testing and prodding at different parts of the skin on her neck to see what she would react to the most. She was already writhing at the mere feeling of his swollen lips dragging across her skin, his teeth coming in to decorate her fragile skin with a bruise or two.

She had a mind to stop him from leaving marks, to tell him that they would be caught otherwise. However, the thought of a bruise, born out of passion, displayed on her skin for the whole world seemed appealing. The thought of people knowing that he left it there seemed to rub her in all the right ways.

Her reverie was interrupted by the feeling of being dropped gently onto the floor. She looked up at him with a frustrated look. “Why’d you stop?” “Turn around,” Anakin grunted, shrugging the useless garments that were his Jedi uniform off his body. She followed suit and heeded his word almost immediately, but to him, it wasn't fast enough. His hands, large in comparison to her body, grasped her frame and twirled her around, her backside exposed to him. He admired the view in front of him, accompanied by the sight of her hands pressed up against her own front door.

"Anakin?" she called out softly, her head turned just enough just to catch sight of him.

"Hm?" Anakin asked in an equally gentle manner, differing from the low grunts that had just escaped his lips prior. He leaned forward, hovering over her to whisper back to her. "What is it, pretty girl?"

Shuddering at the sickly sweet nickname he had donned her with, her eyes locked with his. "Won't everyone hear if we're right here?" she asked. Yet the way she asked that very question didn't seem like it concerned her very much; it much rather seemed like a courtesy, if anything.

A dry laugh left Anakin's lips, his hands moving to adjust her body to his liking, a feeling that he knew she wasn't unfamiliar with. But now, all it took was for her to bend over ever so slightly, her legs parted just enough. "They can watch if they'd like."

It was all too much to register all at once. He was on top of her, all over her, inside of her. He gripped at her even tighter in a desperate attempt to bring her even closer than they already were before he even thought to start moving. Again, his lips traveled to wherever they could across her bare skin. Her skin was slick, glazing her skin in such an appealing way that made him eager to welcome the salty fluid onto his tongue. Not too long after he eventually started moving, she cried out as he seemed to repeatedly brush against a sensitive spot, and so he upped his pace.

He was certain if anybody had been walking in the Billet's hallway at that moment, they would've heard her. Judging from the look in her pleasure-ridden, tear-filled eyes, she seemed to understand this as well, and she only grew louder from that point forward.

It didn't take too long until the harmony of their groans and whines began to stagger, Anakin unfortunately growing aware of his approaching limit. His movements faltering, his body hunched over her, his grip growing so tight that he was certain he'd leave more bruises than just her neck. But he was determined, so determined to hold out for her, to give her precisely what she needed. Tangling his hand into her hair, he yanked her head backward so it lay against his shoulder.

"Tell me what you need," he hissed, this voice barely audible over all the obscene noises that their bodies were creating, noises he knew were easily escaping through the door. When met with no response, he yanked at her hair harder, resulting in a deliciously overwhelmed yelp. "Please, pleaseplease-" Countless begs escaped her plumped lips, her body beginning to shake as her hands helplessly clawed at the cold, hard surface of the door she was pressed against. That alone was nearly enough to send him over the edge, his breath held and his chest tightening in anticipation of it.

She turned to face him again, her head pulled back enough to display his artwork of red-purple bruises surrounding her jugular. "Please, 'nakin," she begged, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head. "Keep going-"

He suddenly felt a hot, squeezing feeling around him accompanied by a cry out for his name. She was undone, and he shortly followed, retracting himself in time for their mess to spill all over the floor below them.

The intoxicating feeling that consumed their bodies shortly afterward sent them into a daze. One moment, she turned around to pull him into a wet, messy kiss, the next, their limbs were tangled with each other in the velvety embrace of her blankets. She knew that eventually, they would face repercussions for the sounds that they had subjected everyone to in the dead of night, but those repercussions seemed distant, inconsequential to the way she had begun to feel about the Chosen One.

And she was certain, from the way he stroked her hair to the slow and soft kiss that was pressed to her lips, that she wasn't alone in feeling that way.

a/n: originally posted on ao3! first ani fic on this site and more to come. likes n reblogs are appreciated and inbox is open for suggestions or prompts!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #fem!reader #clone wars #attack of the clones #revenge of the sith #master x padawan #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #oneshot #anakin skywalker oneshot

274 notes · View notes

panda-writes-kpop · 12 days

Note

Hey I requested that last yunjin x gn reader can u do another one where they’re sitting at home and he’s trying to help her come up with a song for the new album thank you

my victory - "my sugar" ~ h. yn.

a/n: thank you for the request, and i hope you enjoy this! it's a bit short, my apologies in advance, my allergies are kicking my ass 🥲 it's a bit different than your request so i hope that's alright!

tw: reader is a simp (aren't we all)

♡ Masterlist ♡

summary: yunjin has trouble drumming up inspiration (me too girlie) for song lyrics on her upcoming album. As her partner, you take it as your responsibility to help her get out of the house and find her groove. and you get to spend time with your girlfriend - a win-win scenario!

"Babe, stop it!"

Yunjin's screech lands on deaf ears as you plant another wet kiss on her cheek.

"How am I supposed to focus when you-" She turns her head to face you, and you place a fleeting kiss on her lips, "now you're teasing me."

You lazily wrap your arms around her waist before pulling her away from the desk.

"C'mon, you've been looking at that laptop for hours and nothing has come to you. Why don't we go out for a bit so you can refresh your mind?" You suggest as she tries and fails to grab her laptop from the desk.

"I have to finish these lyrics before the deadline-" Yunjin tries to argue, but you shush her with another kiss to the lips.

"-which is a month away, and you're supposed to be relaxing when you're here visiting family and friends." You emphasize the word friends, as if the company that approved the trip wasn't already aware of your relationship.

You wanted to make the most of Yunjin being back in the States, but with her so focused on her group's upcoming comeback, you felt like Yunjin was with you without really being there with you.

"Alright." She reluctantly closes her laptop after you let her go from your arms. "What do you want to spend today doing?"

"You're such a fucking cheater." You scoff as you tally up the miniature golf score.

"You're the one who gave me the handicap." Yunjin accuses you as you roll your eyes.

"You said you were bad at mini golf!"

"I said I was bad at mini golf... when I'm without a handicap." Yunjin teases you as you finish adding the scores together.

"You failed to mention that when we started." You sigh as you show her the score card. "You got ten up on me, so you know what that means."

"I'm the winner?" She beams at you, and your crushing defeat is nothing compared to her happiness.

"You have to buy me a pity drink, as the winner."

"No fair!" She whines as you grab the car keys.

"It pays to be a loser." You shrug before unlocking your car.

"Cheers." You press your glass to hers. "To love, to us."

"And to sore losers." Yunjin jokes before taking a drink from her glass. "I'm glad you took me out for a date, babe."

"Me too, I can actually have some time with my girlfriend this week." You chuckle to yourself. "Feeling better now that you're out and about?"

"I am, despite your sarcasm, and I've got a few new ideas for that laptop." She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Any of them involve me?" You lean in to kiss her on the lips before she pushes you away.

"None of them, actually." She scoffs after you kiss her. "But I haven't written any lyrics yet, so there's time for you to inspire a few."

You pull her in to another kiss to show your approval.

"Let's head back to my place so we can relax for a bit, and then you can write as long as you want, alright?" You pull her into your arms before she snatches the keys from your hand.

"One more drink?" She looks at you with pleading eyes.

"One more drink." You say confidently, as if the two of you aren't going to spend the rest of the night in each other's arms, the laptop and her work schedule long forgotten.

84 notes · View notes

y-umiko · 2 years

Text

TOKYOREV BOYS WHEN YOU LABELED THEM AS A FRIEND (as a Prank)

CHARACTER(S): Baji . Ran . Wakasa

WARNING/S: cursing and a bit suggestive in Baji's part

Keisuke Baji

It was Saturday in the late afternoon, You sat on the couch wrapped around your boyfriend's arms, legs tangled with each other when your phone rang. reluctantly you pick up the phone as you sat up with you still cuddled into his side. all the while Baji was focused on the TV that was playing his favourite TV show.

He didn't pay much attention to your conversation just hearing bits and pieces of it, he was just minding his own business that is until he heard you say;

"Not much, I'm with a friend right now"

Baji pauses the TV in a heartbeat, a scowl present on his face which you only returned with an innocent confused gaze.

"who is that? tell me I didn't just hear what I heard you say" he said as he extend his hand to grab your phone but you were quick to dodge and distance yourself away from him, but you didn't even reach far as he has his gentle grip on you, determined to grab your phone - which he succeeded.

Baji always resorts to violence before anything so it's no surprise that he didn't even bother to check the caller ID before he began speaking nonsense.

"This is her boyfriend you a**hole, and before you say anything just you know I can fu*king fight"

There was complete silence on the other end and when Baji thinks he won he can't help but look up as you chuckle and a familiar voice speaks on the other end. "Uhm...I know Baji-san"

Baji watched you with the furrowed eyebrow as you completely lost it and laugh "It was Chifuyu, I wanted to see how you'll react, I was just messing with you babe"

while you laughed, Baji's eyebrows only bent in annoyance, before he sigh in relief, "Chifuyu I'll call you later" he grumpily mumbled before ending the call and making his way towards you, he leaned down and whispered into your ears.

"I've been soft these past weeks, I think you need a proper reminder of who you belong to"

RAN HAITANI

You boredly stare at your boyfriend beating who knows who for the last couple of minutes, with the scene being almost a daily occurrence you thought you'll get used to it but violence during a date gets annoying, especially when Ran seems to enjoy it more than the date itself.

Ran heard your phone ring but didn't think much of it as he pummel the poor delinquent to the ground. he does enjoy it, the thrill of the fight but the thrill he got with spending time with you is a different matter.

"no I'm not busy, I'm just hanging out with a friend"

though that got Ran's head whipping to your direction with his full attention quickly shiting to you, a playful grin quickly dances across his lips as he quickly catches on to what's going.

"that doesn't sound right -" he grins, stepping over the delinquent on the ground to make his way towards you, without breaking eye contact

"-it's an incredibly handsome friend" he whispered once he was close enough to you, his long limbs of hand immediately wrapping themself around your waist to pull you closer to him.

Ran heard what sounded to be a man on the other end of the line say something, but the way your look at him tells him you didn't hear a single word on it "sorry I didn't catch that? my... incredibly handsome friend was talking to me" you chuckled earning a satisfied grin from Ran.

"Yeah, I'll call you later"

as soon as you ended the call, Ran took hold of your hand, intertwined them together, and pulled you away from the bloody scene.

"let's go"

"Where to? how about your work?" you asked pointing to the pile of delinquents behind you two, which Ran only shrug.

"don't worry about it, this incredibly handsome friend of yours is gonna take you out to dinner before some asshole thinks he has a chance with you"

"This is why I love you" you replied, your plan perfectly working

"that was Rin by the way"

WAKASA IMAUSHI

you sigh for the 3rd time in the last hour, for the last couple of minutes you had tried to do stupid things just to get a reaction out of your boyfriend who appears to be bored all the time but it was as if it fell into deaf ears. luckily a phone call had saved the day.

You get on a call, close enough with Wakasa that he can overhear your conversation. there was nothing strange about it, so he didn't mind it one bit, not until you turned sideways and made eye contact with him before answering the other person on the line.

"I'm actually with a friend right now, how about we just get dinner later?" He looks back at you, the subtlest furrow on his eyebrow.

"a friend?" he asked pointing to himself in disbelief, the action leaving you feeling pride for getting a reaction out of him. You didn't respond to him, instead, you just put your finger over your mouth, indicating to him to be quiet, further annoying him.

he swiftly reaches for your phone and puts it over his ear, without breaking eye contact with you.

"This is her boyfriend, and she's not getting dinner with you anytime soon since she'll be busy with me so stop calling this number" he calmly said before ending the call not even letting the other person on the other end say anything.

"what?" he asked as you stared at him in awe

"That was so hot" you mumbled completely catching him off guard as he handed you back the phone, which you happily took feeling happy for some reason. "Stop talking to strangers" he cooly mumbled giving you lazy droopy eyes that you love.

"that was Shinichiro"

4K notes · View notes

finalgilmoregirl · 6 months

Text

thanks for all the love on my last two posts, here’s an idea i thought of the other day that i actually was able to fully flesh out

☆ a growing relationship between fnaf movie!mike x fem!mall worker!reader would include :

- pre fnaf movie events

a/n : i made this in head cannon form to save time but i might make a blurb series. ALSO IMPORTANT : i try to make the reader in my fics as physically non descriptive as possible which means i try to stay away from words like “tall, short, pale, thin” etc… if there is ever an explicit description, it’ll be in the title (like how i put “fem!” or “latina”) okay that being said, enjoy!

- movie takes place in 2000s so naturally reader would work in retail whilst in college (movie!mike is thought to be in his mid-20s so i’m also making reader around that age)

- i think the first interaction between the two would be at her place of work, on a particular slow morning

- he’s only had his security job at the mall for about a week, and his employers had him bouncing around different stores, trying to find his place in the building

- which is how he ended up standing at the front your store at 10am

- he’d spoken to the assistant manager for a moment right before opening but it wasn’t until almost an hour into his shift that he’d noticed you

- he’d just failed to stifle his tenth yawn in the last few minutes when he heard your voice, snapping his brain into high alert

- “excuse me?”

- he turned his head in your direction and widened his eyes a bit before trying to relax

- you were talking to him, and you were beautiful

- “uhm, yeah?” he replied, instantly cursing himself in his mind for not replying more politely

- you obviously didn’t mind his response as you smiled sweetly, reaching an arm out, which is what made mike take notice of the to-go cup in your hand

- “sorry, i just thought you could use this.”

- oh! this surprised the man, and you took notice of the look on his face.

- to be fair this was weird, at least a little bit. you’d never given the other security guards coffee. you were always polite to them of course, but you never went out of your way to try to make an impression ike this.

- but then again, none of the other security guards were this cute

- and you thought mike was very cute

- “i know, it’s a bit weird but i was over there stacking clothes and couldn’t help but notice how tired you seemed.” you pointed to where you were just a moment ago, before you’d gone to the back room to get mike his drink

- mike looked to the area you pointed out, taking notice of the pile of clothes you’d seemed to be in the process of organizing

- mike wanted to hit himself. he was so caught up in his own head and trying to force himself awake that he didn’t even notice that you had been a mere ten feet away this entire time.

- he then looked back at you and realized he hadn’t make a single coherent reply to anything you’d said so far

- he shook his head out of his thoughts and gave you a small smile

- “no no that’s not weird” he said, taking the coffee out of your hands and trying to ignore how soft they felt as his fingertips brushed against them, “that’s really nice of you, thank you.”

- you shrugged, playing with your now free hands while trying to ignore how your heartbeat had started to quicken

- “it’s no big deal, i just thought it’d be best if you were awake in case anyone tried to rob us” you joked, earning a chuckle from mike.

- “i’m y/n by the way” you held out your hand to him

- “i’m mike” he said as he took it, giving it a light shake and reluctantly letting go

- you looked into each others eyes for a moment, and warmth started to circulate your bodies

- unfortunately, the moment was gone too fast as one of your coworkers called you over, asking for your help in taking down some boxes

- you looked back at mike, who still held the smallest smile

- “i guess i’ll see you around.” you shrugged, walking away

- as the day went by and the store got increasingly busier, you and mike failed to have anymore interactions and soon, he had to leave, saddened by the fact that he couldn’t say goodbye but also hopeful at the thought that he might see you again

- it wasn’t until a week later that he did

- he unfortunately got stationed at a kiosk near the entrance of the mall, however that didn’t stop him from walking by your store on his breaks in hopes to catch another glimpse of you

- he did this for three days until this routine paid off.

- you were working the cash register, conversing with a young girl and her mother as you bagged their clothing

- “have a good one!” you smiled brightly at the pair as they walked out of store, which is when you saw mike approach the entrance

- he walked in shyly, hands in his pockets

- he’s wanted to see you… but what did he even plan to say?

- “hey mike!” you called out to the brunette as he walked in

- he responded with his own “hi” as he walked up to the counter

- “what are you doing here?”

- “you know, just…taking a walk”

- he looked down for a moment, nerves creeping up on him. well, he thought. i might as well take advantage of this moment. i mean, you’re right there.

- with a sudden surge of confidence (and despite the sweat now pooling down the back of his neck) he looked back up and said : “i actually just realized.”

- you looked back at him expectedly

- “i never got to repay you for that coffee.”

- when asked if you’d like to cash in that debt you replied a bit faster than you would like to admit, and a date was set for the same day

- where mike had four more hours to go after his break, you had three. which you thought was more than fine, just more time to prepare for this date

- you would meet at the coffee place across from the food court after both of your shifts

- and when you did, it was like something out of a movie

- mike of course, as guarded as he his, tried his best from dumping any trauma on you and steered clear from anything he thought was too personal in fear of scaring you away. however after picking up bits and piece from your life, he had a feeling you wouldn’t judge him

- despite you basically being a stranger, he felt more relaxed than he had in years, him learning about you was enough to distract him from whatever nightmares plagued him at all hours of the day, just for a little while

- as time went on and you both kept in touch after your first date, mike began to open up a bit more

- after the first few weeks he told you about abby, more so about their situation

- you sympathized with him a bit, offering advice if he needed it and a helping hand if any issues with their current babysitter came up

- your selflessness solidified his thought that this could be something good, which led to your first kiss after your fourth date

- you figured it would take a while, you sensed from the first date that he would be a tough book to crack open, but you really liked him and were more than happy to be patient.

- back to abby :

- as much as he was okay with talking to you about abby, he hadn’t planned to tell abby about you. not knowing how she would react to adding a random woman to possibly be a part of her life after their mother

- this of course became a small issue when she began to notice how much more time he spent on the phone

- phone bill be damned, he would still lean against the kitchen wall, twirling the phone cord around his finger for at least half an hour while he talked to you

- “who is it?” abby asked one late afternoon.

- where she was supposed to be in bed already, she came out to get a glass of water, catching her brother talking in a hushed voice.

- “don’t worry about it” mike would tell her.

- “what are they saying?”

- “abby can you please just go to your room”

- she would very soon find out about your existence when one evening mike put the phone down for a second to go look for a book he wanted to tell you about

- as soon as he walked out of the room, abby jumped from her place on the couch and snuck to the phone

- “hello?” she whispered, cupping her hand over the transmitter

- “hi” you smiled, picturing the young girl that mike had described to you before

- “who is this?” abby asked, almost aggressively, confused as to why her brother has been talking to a woman

- “i’m y/n” you told her, trying to suppress a laugh

- something clicked in the child then

- gasp “are you mikes girlfriend??”

- it was just then that mike had returned, and with a face of anger and horror her snatched the device from abby’s grasp and lightly shoved her away with a light scolding “abby what the hell did i say?”

- you laughed harder at his tone

- “i am so sorry about that. what did she say to you?”

- “oh nothing” you sighed, “she just asked me if i was your girlfriend.”

- he mouthed a god dammit as he looked to the ceiling

- he wasn’t embarrassed that abby had asked, he was embarrassed that he hadn’t asked you yet

- there’s no protocol to dating as an adult. “will you be my girlfriend?” sounds too childish and when that’s out of the question, where do you go from there?

- “well…” mike shut his eyes tightly as he asked, “what did you say?”

- “i didn’t get to answer. what do you think i should have said?” you said, lighthearted but pointedly.

- swallowing the bile he felt creeping up his throat at the nerves he rubbed his hand to his sweater clad chest

- “i mean…” you continued. “do you want me to be?”

- my god yes he desperately thought but tried his best to sound casual “yeah, i’d like that”

- “well then, i suppose i am your girlfriend. maybe i can actually tell her next time”

- he sensed the teasing in your voice and gave a mixed of a chuckle and a sigh at your answer, the weight the nerves left on his chest lifted.

- “next time” he said softly, “sounds good”

☆ might start planning a part two

#kelly : mike thoughts 💭#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson

232 notes · View notes

synnamonroll666 · 7 months

Text

An Arousing Tail

Prompt 3: Intercrural Sex/Thigh Riding (With A Twist) Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: After finding out that Syzoth has a rather interesting kink, he asks you to help fulfill his desire. Of course, you agree. Because after all, how could you deny your man of what he wants so badly?... Warnings: Tail Riding, Extremely Shy And Embarrassed Syzoth, Awkward Confessions, Masturbation, Mutual Orgasms... Word Count: 1.4k A/N: This is hands down the most interesting smut fic I have ever written. 😂 I hope you all enjoy it! 💚 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri.

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

There I laid in my bed—with my lover on top of me—lips connected in a passionate kiss. We had been going at it for hours, just savoring and enjoying the taste of each other before we got to the main course. That was our thing: we could make a moment last for so long—we were just special like that.

I was so wrapped up in the moment that I did not realize that Syzoth had accidentally let his tail slip from his human disguise again. It was something he did on instinct every once in a while. If he was enjoying something enough, his tail would have to break free so it could sway back and forth with enjoyment. And due to being so caught up in our kisses, I didn't even clue in when my hand found purchase on his tail and began stroking its smooth scales.

As soon as my hand began to pet him, he let out a soft moan into my mouth and quickly pulled back and turned away as he blushed bright green with embarrassment.

"I-I am sorry, my love..." He stammered awkwardly as he lowered his head so he would feel a little more protected from my intense gaze. "I could not help it..."

"No, I'm sorry." I sighed heavily, feeling pretty bad for making him so uncomfortable. "I didn't realize that I did it; I shouldn't have without your consent."

A moment of silence fell between us, and Syzoth still refused to look me in the eye—or move, for that matter. I couldn't help but let the guilt eat away at me, since I never wanted to push past his comfort zone. I wanted to speak apology after apology for doing so, but I knew what Syzoth would say; he would just tell me that it wasn't my fault and that we should probably go to bed.

But I did have one thing that lingered in my mind, and after a couple minutes of hesitation, I decided to break the silence once again with a question that I knew would be hard for him to answer. But as his lover, I just had to know for sure.

"Is it really that pleasurable for you?" I asked shyly, and the man instantly froze for a moment before finally lifting his head to look up at me with shameful eyes. "That's ok, Syzoth. I understand." I assured him with a softness in my tone and a kind smile, hoping he would let his finally gaurd down and just be his full self with me.

Syzoth was a pretty shy and not very confident person. Even though we had seen each other naked many times now, he would still become backwards with a few subjects, which made discussing our wants and desires quite difficult at times. But the way his eyes lightly studied me for a moment with a hint of curiosity and nervousness in them told me that I would get what I wished for soon enough.

"(Y/N)... Could I ask something of you?" He asked almost reluctantly while averting his gaze down again, only this time at his now twitching tail.

"Anything, Syzoth." I assured him while placing my hand upon his to give him any bit of encouragement I possibly could with my words.

"Would you..." He paused mid-sentence, his words getting cut off by a look of uncertainty.

"Tell me,"

With a light squeeze of my hand over his, he glanced down at where we were conjoined. It was clear that the man was struggling with this but knew that he would not be relieved of this stress until it was off his chest. After letting out a deep breath for courage, he finally let me in on something I never knew he wanted: "Would you ride my tail?"

"What?" I blurted out as I cocked my head, slightly confused by his request.

He peered back up at me, and I quickly took notice of how his appearance had changed; his pupils were dilated to the point where his green irises were nearly non-existent, his tanned skin was now flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat, the veins in his arms were bulging—especially more with each flex of his large muscles—and I could literally see that his pulses were fluttering faster than the wings of a hummingbird. It was then that it occurred to me that this wasn't just anything, but a deeply desired kink.

"Please!" He whined in a needy tone that I hadn't heard from him before.

His desire for such a thing surprised me, but who was I to judge? Who was I to deny my love of the pleasures he craved? Smiling up at my man lovingly, I gently placed a hand on his chest before pushing him off of me and back onto the bed.

I was quick to remove my clothes and Syzoth's as well, and I wasted no time climbing up on the bed once again to lower myself on the base of his tail. Syzoth let out a strained whine as my heat met his scales and I instantly felt how each thick vein would pulsate against my touch, clearly craving more of my warmth.

I firmly gripped my love's shoulders and began rolling my hips against him slowly, watching his facial expression change to one of awe as he melted below me. I was surprised by how smooth the scales on the underside of his tale were. It was almost like brushing myself against some sort of soft, cool leather—it was perfect to get off on.

I let my head roll back onto my shoulders as heat built up in my core. I was genuinely shocked by how sensitive I felt at the time, but I wasn't complaining. The hunger I felt from his arousal only made me crave more and when his hands went to my hips, I knew we were both done for.

He squeezed me hard in his grip as his tail began wiggling and moving in a slither-like motion, forcing a cry from my throat as it sent just the right kind of friction through my throbbing mound. Now soaked with my slick, his scales grew slippery but not enough for me to lose my pace. His hands helped guide me in my journey to ecstasy, but I knew exactly what I wanted and how to get it.

Watching how his head lolled back in pleasure—how his eyes fluttered half shut and his jaw fell slack as he released a weak, strained moan—I could barely hang on from the beautiful image before me alone. But the way his tail brushed against me like a match—setting off a flame within my core that threatened to explode at any second—I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

As I finally let myself give into the temptation of my climax, I began picking up speed and moving my hips at an extremely fast rate, hungry for that release I so desperately needed. I was so wrapped up in my own cloud of pleasure that I did not even realize that Syzoth had his hand firmly clasped around his trobbing cock, fucking it into his fist as he watched me with desperate tears in his eyes.

Finally—like a match to gasoline is meant to explode—that coil snapped within me and my climax tore through my body. I cried out as I rode through my orgasm on his trembling tail, and I almost missed the way his length shot thick ropes of his hot seed all over his stomach and mine—I almost missed the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth fell agape while he came undone beneath me—but I was lucky enough to just barely catch the full show.

After my high eventually faded, I couldn't hold myself up any longer and collapsed onto his broad chest. And in a moment of my post-orgasm daze, I felt his arms slowly snake around my trembling frame to encase me within a warm embrace.

Between the way our body heat collided, how he gently caressed my back to soothe my exhaustion, his hot cum—which was now sandwiched between us—heating my stomach and his tail lightly twitching between my thighs to give me the perfect amount of overstimulation, I felt as if I were on cloud nine. And so I closed my eyes, hoping that I would wake up the exact same way the next morning and many after as well.

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #kinktober 2023 #SinnamonsSpicyFics

224 notes · View notes

fiapartridge · 2 months

Note

mack and graces first date !!

first date | m + g 🌷💌⭐️

macklin x hughes!sister

summary: mack and grace go on their first date!

fia's notes 💌: like i said in my other post, grace & mack spent like their entire first year of knowing each other just being friends so them being on their first date is kind of like a long time coming vibe sooo enjoy !

not proofread

The sun stretched its golden fingers across the landscape of Michigan’s lakeside as a gentle breeze whispered throughout the leaves of the towering oaks. Grace’s sunkissed nose was hidden behind a book as she sprawled herself out on a blue beach chair. Her long brown locks were tucked beneath a camo trucker hat, her back exposed to the light as Macklin smiled silently to himself, making his way over to the girl.

“Did you know that 1-in-4 girls are involved in entrepreneurship?” Grace asked, feeling Macklin sit down beside her.

Macklin chuckled quietly. She always knew when he was around even when she wasn’t looking. “No, I didn’t.” Macklin reached for the sunscreen in her tote bag, opening the cap, and squeezing the thick liquid into his hands.

“I think I should go on Shark Tank. I really think I could get a deal done,” she said, mindlessly talking as he moved her hair to the side, working the sunscreen into her skin.

“What’s your product, Teddy?” Macklin first called her ‘Teddy’ after hearing Brock Boeser call Quinn ‘Huggy Bear.’ She could remember that moment like it was written across the walls of her mind: “Can I call you Teddy?” he asked, his hands in her hair and hers playing with the rings on her fingers.

“Why,” Grace laughed, turning her head to look up at him.

“‘Cause Quinn is Huggy Bear, so you can be Teddy Bear.”

She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “Except I’m not soft like him.”

“No,” Macklin grinned. “You’re the toughest around, Teddy.”

“How do you feel about a VR vacuum cleaner,” she suggested, flipping onto her back and shielding her eyes from the bright sun rays.

“VR vacuum cleaner?” he smirked, shaking his head as he applied more sunscreen to the front of her body. His hands worked over her stomach as she stared up at him in awe. She never had to ask.

“Think about it: you’re sitting on the couch, you don’t want to get up and get the vacuum cleaner and clean the whole house, so you put on your VR headset and it connects to your vacuum, and you’re vacuuming from your spot on the couch!”

“Teddy—”

“Nope, nope. It’s gonna work, you gotta trust me, Mack. This is a billion dollar idea.”

“Totally,” he chuckled before getting up from his spot behind her, grabbing her hands to pull her up with him. “Come on, let’s go.”

Grace furrowed her brows, closing her book and stuffing it in the tote bag she brought. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

“Yes, said by every serial killer ever,” Grace rolled her eyes, huffing as she reluctantly followed him.

“I’m not gonna murder you, G.”

“Murderers never admit it to the victim, dumbass.”

He slung her tote bag over his shoulder as he held Grace’s hand in his, pulling her in the direction towards the lake house. “I’ll tell you if you go get dressed.”

She raised a brow, her eyes narrowing at the boy. “Are you not comfortable with what I’m wearing?” She wore a blue denim-patterned triangle bikini and a light sunburn on her freckled face.

“Trust me,” he inched closer. “I love what you’re wearing, but I don’t think the people at the flea market will.” Everytime he talked, Grace swore shocks ran up and down her spine. She could feel him on every piece of her. He just had that effect on people. Macklin Celebrini makes people feel special, and this past year, that’s all she’s ever felt with him—special

“The flea market?” she eyed him suspiciously. She hadn’t even known there was one in town that week.

He pushed her gently toward the house. “Come on, woman. Just get dressed; I’ll wait for you out here.”

She spun around, her hands colliding with his chest as her puppy dog eyes burned heart shaped rings into him. “Just one hint?”

Placing his hand on her bare hip, he ran his thumb over her tanned skin. “Our first date. Now will you please go. You’re really ruining my itinerary.”

“Your itinerary?” she laughed.

“Stop laughing and go,” he chuckled, pushing the girl away from him. God, she was gonna be the death of him.

Rows and rows of stalls littered the Michigan streets as Macklin held Grace’s hand, pulling her in every direction. By the twelfth stall, she was already holding a bouquet of white tulips and a soft cat plushy that looked exactly like Mittens, her Russian Blue back at home.

“I bet you’re glad I kidnapped you, huh?” Macklin smiled, swinging their hands back and forth between them.

“So you admit it,” she smirked, turning to him as they walked along the row of stalls, watching the couple pass by. “You kidnapped me.”

“It’s not kidnapping if I take you somewhere where you’re happy.”

“You will be surprised by how many kidnappings end up with the victim being happy and then, when they’re most vulnerable, they’re stabbed to death.”

Macklin shook his head, dragging Grace along. “You’ve gotta stop watching true crime documentaries.”

“But what if a hot guy tries to seduce me and I end up killed?”

He squeezed her hand, bumping his shoulder with hers. “I’m not gonna let any hot guy seduce you unless it’s me.”

Just before Grace could trip over her own two feet and melt into a blushy puddle right on the asphalt beneath them, a worker in one of the stalls called out to them. “You! The couple!” she pointed as Grace and Macklin looked at each other, silently asking if they should go or not.

Despite the hesitation, the couple made their way over to the older woman who was adorned with crystal jewelry and an eclectic mismatched quilt skirt. She sported black round glasses and curly gray hair—totally dyed for the effect.

The woman, her eyes sparkling with ancient wisdom behind her round glasses, leaned forward with a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Well, well, well," she murmured. "What do we have here?"

Grace shifted uncomfortably, her fingers nervously intertwining with Macklin's as they both gazed at the array of cards spread out before them.

The reader's gaze flickered between them, as if she could see right through them. "A couple in the making, are we?" she mused, her tone light yet knowing.

Macklin chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, not exactly," he replied, shooting a quick glance at Grace, who blushed furiously in response.

Grace cleared her throat, mustering up her courage. "We're, uh, sort of testing the waters. This is our first date," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The tarot card reader raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Ah, the dance of courtship," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Well, let's see what the cards have to say about your little...experiment, shall we?"

With a flourish, she began to flip over the cards, each one revealing a glimpse into their future.

As The Lovers card appeared, the reader's eyes twinkled with delight. "A powerful connection," she murmured, her voice filled with certainty. "The kind that transcends time and space."

Grace felt a flutter in her chest, her gaze meeting Macklin's with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. His lips quirked up for a moment, a hope deep inside of him wishing that this was real and not just some superstitious, otherworldly money grab.

Next came the Ace of Cups, its image shimmering with promise. "New beginnings," the reader whispered, her voice tinged with reverence. "A love that knows no bounds."

Macklin squeezed Grace's hand, not daring to look at her. He was as red as a tomato, and this was their first date. He was sure she was scared off by now, but Grace felt a sort of warmth spread through her chest. She didn’t care if this was real or fake; she liked hope.

Finally, as The Ten of Cups appeared, the reader let out a soft chuckle. "Happiness," she declared, her words carrying the weight of prophecy. "A lifetime of joy and fulfillment." The tarot card reader smiled, her eyes crinkling with age-old wisdom. "Hold tight, kids," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. “You’ve got a whole lot more dates ahead of you.”

#macklin celebrini x hughes!sister 🌟#macklin celebrini

69 notes · View notes

aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

Note

Fancy seeing you here😳 (in the COD simping club)

I was thinking(horrible desicion but hear me out)

(maskedFem!reader with Simon Ghost Riley, sort of a 'enemies to lovers' but not really cause they are platonics that love-hate each other and they do get along just with a larger vocabulary.

BUt Ghost is kind of swooning over her? a wee bit?(respectfully, in the corner of the room with his arms crossed,silently and lethally tho)

With cero awareness of his feelings, how he enjoys speaking with her and finds her precense borderline rehabilitating, perhaps he thinks his amazement is normal cause she's once in a lifetime of a unit and; she's also a woman and he almost forgets they exist sometimes so he's just a bit taken back, perhaps his brain rebooting the info. That makes sense.

But it's been almost a year so why is her voice such a melody still? Why does he seem to search for her eyes during sunny days the most searching for the color of them? He's too attentive with her, always getting sucked into the banter far easier than he should when she's involved in it. Can he even blame it on men's hormones when he barely feels anything, much less in that department? Do the rest of the 141 feel that too? Should he feel bothered or at ease?

Like some juicy slowburn 😈. During a mission they're bantering about Gaz being bitchless or her drinking coffee with enough sugar to send Price into cardiac arrest, and she's ambushed out of nowhere on her sniping point, taken for interrogation swiftly after being knocked out.

Angsty sht of her informing the ordeal before never responding to her callsign again, Soap mumbling a curse and Ghost entering autopilot to prioritize efficiency and the guys are a bit amazed by how swift he was wiping out everyone on sight.(Jhon Wick looking ass)

Finding her on a table with her hands and arms tightly bound and being held still by two men as another one had already used a scaple to cut through the middle of her torso almost like he intended to perform a surgery on her whilst she was conscious and aware. Simon shooting the two men right between the eyes but for some reason shooting the guy with the scaple on both of his legs and planting a knife on his eye whilst Soap cuts the rope, she barely gets a word out when Simon cradles her shoulders with one hand, his touch careful. And his voice a lot more soft than he anticipated it to be."Are you alright?"

Evac comes, she gets stitched back together at the hospital and needs to rest till it heals over, everyone cheers and hugs, and Ghost comes to acknowledge his feelings(as much as he can) when he closes the door of his bedroom and the emotions finally hit him, autopilot is turned off and he stares at a wall for almost an hour.

She becomes subject of his nightmares for a little while, he's outside clearing his head when she walks in with insomnia, he's troubled by the relief of the sight of her alive and his solitude being interrupted by the cause of his troubles, nevertheless she's still a welcomed sight, always a welcomed sight. "Oh, fancy seeing you here" "Shouldn't you be resting" "You need the beauty sleep more than me tho, Lt." "*Scoffs*" ..... "Wanna see it?(the scar)" "I knew you were a man(your dickl?)" "Is that why you've been up my ass all the time?" .... "Alright show me" she lifts her sweater up, a barely closed scar from bellow her ribs to bellow her belly button, he doesn't mean to but he flinches at the sight, tensed shoulders and furrowed brows the sleep deprivation has him in less control than usual and she notices. Still, he's fine cause he's Ghost and casually comments "It's healing rather quickly" he looks away unable to stand the memory of it just yet, she pulls it back down leaning her elbows over the window, just two feet away from each other. She takes the thin black mask off from around her ears letting the cold night hit her face properly, he looks away instantly. "It's fine, nothing you haven't seen" he very reluctantly glances back "So, they said y'all only found me in record time cause of you Lt." she glances at him and he glances out of the window, if he looks at her now he's afraid he won't be able to look away, "Just didn't want you spilling your guts to em" she snorts and her small laugh fills the silence of the night, perhaps the one in his heart aswell

"Your savior privileges have been revoked" "Too soon?" "....Just in time Ghost" she tilts her head to look at him, he makes the mistake of staring back out of reflex and thank fucking god for the balaclava he's wearing, he keeps his eyes from widening this time, but not from softening,cautiously mapping her face with her explicit permission trying so fucking hard to not make it obvious "Could convince me im the one with the skull balaclava with how avoidant you are" "Who knows maybe you scare more without the mask" she yawns and into her palm eyes getting heavier quickly, he's really fucking trying to unglue his eyes from her, a silence ensues, she looks at him again and "Thank you, Simon" she smiles gratefully, her gaze anchored on his and- isnt she a bit embarrassed to be this outright? He certainly is, his face burns, his heart skips a beat, seems getting flustered does the trick cause he finally rips his eyes from hers she chuckles at his expense and before he can reply she's standing up slipping her mask back on "Sweet dreams lieutenant"

Enemies(frienemies) to lovers(but not really cause Ghost just realizes he's fucked up™) with maskedfem¡reader. Ghost begins to question the nature of his feelings towards her and realizing he's in fact a bit too fond of her. Im not quite good of height differences so if you'll be using height as a factor to describe, can she be atleast as tall as Soap? The whole 'petite' or 'chubby' Isn't my thing at all aswell, i need this woman to be a ball of muscle hitting her chest like a gorilla lmao. That weird drabble i put there is just to give kind of an idea but honestly do whatever you'd like, the way he realizes can be through some jealousy, some kidnapping, her getting drunk and soap putting her on his back or whatever i just wanna see him getting the hibbie jibbies, the toe curler hair twirling disease 💀

Feel free to ignore me i know it can be annoying to get a whole ass fanfic in your asks, have a wonderful day i love your writing💕

If anyone is looking for that whole ass fic this anon sent me then here it is, a fucking masterpiece I tell you <333

Like I can definitely see an enemies to friends to lovers situation with Ghost and of course there's gonna be jealousy because what better way than to push someone's buttons with tension??

#aethelwyne lia answers #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

103 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

Robbed and gifted (2/6)

[ arranged marriage • modern!Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex and cheating, fluff ]

[description: (Anon Request) She and Aemond are faced with a situation, where they must form a fictitious marriage. They are complete strangers to each other, who cannot find themselves in a new reality. When his wife stands up for him at a family dinner, something changes between them. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond woke up feeling more guilty than ever. He cheated on his longtime partner. He wanted to justify himself with alcohol, but he knew that he wasn't drunk then. No matter how he looked at it, he wasn't seduced either.

He put his hand in between her thighs, he literally threw himself on her like an animal and even though he assured her that he would stop, he didn't.

The truth was he'd been frustrated ever since he'd seen her at the Registry Office. He hoped to see an empty, defiantly painted, stupid girl who only wanted his money and his family's company.

When he saw her he thought painfully, that she looked surprisingly normal. She was pretty, had a soft face and large eyes, with a pleasant figure. She looked pale and ashamed, just like him.

When she came to his apartment to ruin his life, he felt like he was going to lose his mind. He was a loner, his apartment was his sanctuary and cave, even Alys he brought there reluctantly, preferring to meet at her house.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stranger entered his private space, took one of his rooms, making him no longer feel at home. The first nights he went to Alys because he couldn't stand it.

"What is she like?" Alys asked, looking at him with a slight, rakish smile, seeing his frustration as she took a swig from her glass. He rolled his eye, frustrated that he was bringing up the subject again.

"I don't know. We don't talk." He said coolly, toying with his glass in his hand. Alys giggled, running her long fingers along his arm.

"Should I be worried about her?" She asked softly, almost in a whisper, sensually. He swallowed harder at the sound of her voice, feeling the desire.

"Don't be silly." He murmured as slid his hand into her hair, pulling her firmly against him, pressing his lips against hers.

After a few days, however, he needed to work in peace, and being in Alys's apartment he couldn't concentrate. He went back to his apartment, resigned.

He agreed to all this only for his father. Because his father asked him for something for the first time in his life. Before, Aemond had felt like he might not exist to him.

Of course he talked to him, but just like to everyone else. He didn't understand when other parents said, that their children were special to them. He didn't know what that meant.

If he was special to anyone, it was Alys.

When he got up and saw her in the kitchen, he wanted to back out. He decided he couldn't be that oversensitive, and he wanted a cup of coffee anyway.

He walked over to her, pretending not to see her and the pile of sandwiches that she had prepared for them. He knew that she was already thinking something up in her head, and he didn't like it. However, it was the remark about her college that unnerved him.

As was his habit, he blurted out his words faster than he thought. He locked himself in his office, sat down in front of his desk, and ran his hand over his face.

He knew full well that he was taking it out on her. Even if she did it for money, no one forced him either - he could refuse.

He immediately felt remorse.

He even considered standing up and apologizing her for the outburst, pointing out that any warming of relations between them was not real for him.

However, she herself made his task easier by closing herself completely, disappearing from his line of sight. He felt like he was living alone again.

He tried to pretend to be content and indifferent, but he knew that he was treating her like an unwanted dog that he had locked in one of the rooms and pretended, that she wasn't there. He knew that she didn't deserve it, but he didn't do anything about it.

When his father invited them to dinner, he knew he couldn't refuse. He wanted to vomit at the thought that they both had to pretend, or worse, that something might come out. There was nothing he could do.

They went there together.

He didn't know what possessed him to put his hand on her thigh. He decided that since he hardly said anything to her or looked at her, he had to at least physically pretend that there was any closeness between them. He tried not to think about how warm and soft her skin felt under his fingers, how close his hand was to her panties.

For some reason she was wearing a dress without wearing a bra, which immediately caught his attention. She looked pretty and girlish, the complete opposite of his gloomy and mutilated appearance. He thought that in normal life she would never look at him, and the thought made his lips tighten.

When his father said out loud, in front of the whole family, that he wasn't dedicating himself to the company as much as he should have, he wanted to burst out laughing.

Something inside him snapped then, and he was on the verge of doing or saying something very, very bad. When his wife spoke suddenly with a certainty and directness that he had never seen before, he was completely stunned.

Alys, though so faithful and devoted to him, would never speak to his father that way, because she would lose her job.

She wouldn't risk her good position for him.

He told himself that he didn't blame her, that she was older than him and had a right to stability, not wanting to take a risk. For some reason he felt pain, that the only person who had publicly defended him from his father was a complete stranger. The thought broke him.

He thought about it all the way back to the apartment. He thought that maybe she was right. Maybe he demonized her too much, wanting to personalize her as the source of all his problems when, in fact, it had always been his father.

He decided that at least he would try to treat her more gently, like a colleague from work who rented a room with him.

That at least he owes her that much.

When she told him about her mother, how she'd pretended that she didn't exist, something snapped inside him once again that evening. He felt that he had to touch her.

That he had feel her.

He fucked her so greedily that he couldn't breathe and she moaned so sweetly, her body tightening around him so wonderfully, that he just came inside her. He forgot about Alys, about his father, about everything.

Then he realized what he had done and locked himself in his bedroom again. He got into bed and just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He wondered how he could do this to Alys.

He had never cheated on her before, never even thought about it. Although they often went to business banquets where there were plenty of pretty, rich girls, he was never tempted by them, feeling their vanity.

He couldn't get the smell of her hair out of his nose, her sweat, her sweet perfume that she had to use before leaving for dinner.

He couldn't forget how hot her thighs and insides felt as he slid inside her, how tight her fleshy walls pressed against him, how fervently she responded to his every thrust. He felt despairingly as his cock throbbed painfully hard in his pants.

He wanted to cry.

In the morning he heard her softly open the door and go into the kitchen. He heard the sound of the fridge opening. He wondered if she would try to talk him into having breakfast with him again. He knew he would not agree.

But she didn't do anything like that. He heard her silently shut herself back into her room a few minutes later. He decided that he had to get up now if he didn't want to be late for work.

This time he went out, took a quick shower and made himself some coffee. He found himself glancing at her room door from the middle of the living room, but she didn't come out to talk to him. He wondered if she was as devastated by what had happened between them as he was.

Resigned, he drove to the office feeling terrible. He thought that he had to tell Alys everything or he would go crazy. He decided that she knew him well enough to see immediately that something was wrong.

He thought of himself so far that he was a good partner and a man. That although he was good at it. It turned out, that he was also crippled in this regard.

He entered the bank's office building, tapping his card, the automatic door beeping open for him. Aegon greeted him inside, hungover as usual, pressing a cold bottle from the vending machine to his forehead. When he saw him, he smiled at him.

“Oh, this is our lucky newlywed. Although your wife has balls in this relationship." He said with a smile as he sat up with a hiss, clutching his head.

"Fuck, my head is about to burst." He spoke low, but Aemond said nothing at all to his words.

He opened his laptop and sighed as he saw ten new e-mails. He was annoyed to see that some of them were Aegon customers, who had been unable to reach him.

"Would you mind finally doing your job, instead of drinking yourself to death every night?" He hissed as he sat down at his desk, going through the papers that his assistant had just laid out for him moments earlier. Aegon rolled his eyes at his words.

"Once you talk to them, once I talk to them, it's teamwork." He said lightly, and Aemond looked him up and down.

He opened his mouth to tell him what he thought of him, but saw Alys through the glass wall walking down the hall. She smiled at him and waved at him. He felt a tightness in his pit. Aegon spoke up, amused.

"Does your wife know that you're fucking her? Or do you do triangles? You'd invite your brother, wouldn't you?" He asked, but Aemond just got up and walked past him, following her out.

He caught up with Alys, and she looked at him, surprised. They determined that they behaved professionally in the office and tried not to talk to each other, with small exceptions for sex in the toilet.

"I want to talk to you. In private." He said low, his jaw clenched. Alys frowned at his tension.

"Something happened?" She asked, looking around.

Aemond took her by the arm, and they both entered one of the storerooms. He closed the door behind him, leaned against a metal bookcase and ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily. Alys looked at him expectantly. He thought it was pathetic, but he wanted to cry.

"I slept with her." He whispered without looking at her, his face still buried in his hands. He heard her inhale sharply. She stopped with her arms folded, he heard her breathing differently.

"She seduced you?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly. He swallowed loudly. He couldn't get the words out that were burning in his throat.

“No.”

There was a long, awkward silence between them. He glanced quickly at Alys and saw that her full, lightly colored lips were twitching slightly.

He couldn't bear to see her suffer.

He knew that he had hurt her.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" She asked and laughed under her breath, but it was laughter through tears. He looked at her with pain.

"I don't know what possessed me." He said, but immediately heard how pathetic it sounded. She shook her head at his words.

"Something possessed you? A demon entered you and suddenly when you regained consciousness, you fucked her?” She asked in pain, trying not to cry, covering her mouth with her hand.

She ran a finger through her lashes, not wanting her makeup to smear. Her entire body was trembling. He didn't dare touch her.

"Why? Because she's younger and prettier?" She asked, and he squeezed his eye shut, feeling that he was about to cry himself.

"No." He whispered weakly, exhaling loudly, feeling he was out of breath. She stared at him in disbelief.

"Can you promise me that this will never happen again? Will you divorce her and it will be as it used to be?" She asked, standing with her arms folded. He cleared his throat, running his hand over his chin.

“In two years this marriage will no longer exist. I promise." He whispered, looking pleadingly at her. Alys pursed her lips.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked in a trembling voice. "Aren't you going to divorce her now?"

Aemond stared at her wide-eyed, completely stunned. He closed and opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

"You know … you know, what I agreed with my father." He mumbled.

"And what have you agreed with me? It doesn't mean anything anymore? You promised!" She said covering her face.

She shook her head, walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone. He squeezed his eye shut, leaning the back of his head against the bookshelf, trying his best not to start sobbing like a baby.

After work, he returned home. Alys didn't answer his calls, he knew, that she didn't want to see him. The truth was he didn't even have the strength to apologize to her or fight for her forgiveness. He thought it was pathetic, but he decided to leave it like that for now.

When he entered the apartment, he saw that the light was on in the kitchen. He shuddered at the thought that she was there, that they would look at each other for the first time since the thankless night of yesterday.

He walked slowly into the living room, glancing towards the kitchen. He saw her big, frightened eyes, her pursed lips and pale face. She was wearing a crop top and shorts, her hair loose and slightly damp, as if she had just taken a shower. He thought that she'd taken a bath before he got home, so she wouldn't run into him.

"You came back early." She spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly. She sounded like she was explaining why he'd seen her at all.

"I'm going to finish making dinner and go to my room in a minute. It's cauliflower soup, if you feel like it, help yourself." She said, swallowing hard as she turned back to the pot.

He looked at her impassively. Her long, shapely legs, soft, shiny hair. He smelled her shampoo again in his nose, the same smell that he had felt yesterday when he fucked her. He felt his manhood pulse again in his pants.

He thought that he was distraught and desperate.

He had no strength left.

He approached her slowly, saying nothing. She looked at him in surprise over her shoulder, he saw her purse her lips and blush slightly, embarrassed, dropping her gaze. He knew that she was embarrassed by what had happened between them. She couldn't even look at him.

He felt her draw in a sharp breath and jump in place as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his face against her hair. He felt the warmth of her body, her ass against his hard cock, the scent of her hair and her skin filling his chest again.

He wondered what he was doing, but decided that he just wanted affection. He knew for some reason that she could give him what he needed, and he flocked to her like a moth to a light.

"It's been a terrible, terrible day." He whispered softly, tired and resigned.

He felt her body tremble before him, her breathing ragged. He knew that she felt how hard he was. He heard her swallow loudly. He felt a pleasant shiver as she placed her small hand on his, stroking it gently.

"I know." She whispered just as softly, and for some reason that two words, that warmth that came from her lips, her understanding of his condition made him cry.

He began to sob quietly, unable to stop himself, squeezing his eye tightly. He felt her flinch, all scared. She wanted to turn to him but he wouldn't let her.

He buried his face in her hair, hugging her so tightly, that he felt as if he would strangle her. She wrapped her arms around his, stroking them soothingly.

"Shhh. I know." She said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Only when he heard her quiet sobs did he let her turn towards him, all red with tears, snuggle into his chest. She hugged him so tight that he was out of breath. He threaded his hands into her hair, her fingers tightening on the fabric of his shirt. He pressed his face against her neck, letting his disappointment and tension flow for the first time in many years.

He cried, because he realized that despite having made such a great sacrifice, he had not earned his father's love and respect. His father tricked him by waving it in his face.

He cried, because he had hurt Alys, but he knew,that it wasn't the betrayal that hurt her the most. He couldn't assure her that it wouldn't happen again, because he wasn't sure what was going on between them.

He could imagine the next day with her, but not their old age together. Not their children. He put off getting engaged until he married a total stranger and made her watch.

He cried, because he was overloaded with work and couldn't keep up anymore. He wanted someone to help him, but neither Aegon nor Helaena could do that for him.

Helaena was even mentally weaker than him, and Aegon was totally fucked. Jace and Luke were triumphant, but only because Daemon was putting things under their noses. They never worked for anything on their own, like he did.

He grabbed her by the hips and slowly carried her towards his bedroom. She wrapped her legs around his waist, sniffling loudly, and looked around the room in shock. She couldn't see much from crying, everything was blurry.

Aemond placed her on his bed and lay down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, burying his nose in her hair, stroking her head reassuringly.

He knew that she was crying now too, for her own reasons. He knew that he was one of them. He kissed her forehead, pressing her body tighter against him, wanting to feel her as much as possible.

"Sleep with me tonight."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

Others: @thedamewithabook @godrakin @snh96 @statixcane @toodlesxcuddles

369 notes · View notes