Tumgik
#I hope younger me is happy haha
the-phantom-peach · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
skyward sword… yeah <3
Crimson Loftwing
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
4K notes · View notes
bahoreal · 8 months
Text
im gonna go off on one in the tags pls enjoy
#ive been going by jay online since i was 13 irl since i was 15/16 and my mum cant get used to it#me my friend and both our mums hung out last week and i heard my mum telling his mum 'i just cant get used to [their] name. they want to be#called /jay/ but i just cant do it' literally everyone else including my brother and my dad uses my chosen name#apart from when theyre around my mother! because her force of disgust is definitely more important than my agency and want to be called by#my own name... i have been thinking about wanting to be called another name like. interchangably with my name#and i think id go with yasha. its the diminutive of jay so like. if we friends i want to be yasha x#but also realising how much i want to have autonomy over my name came from picking a name in 2021 for practise in chinese#and my friend helping me decide between something that sounds similar (林植 cos the first character kinda sounds like my eng surname) and a#more literal translation where i was like the translation of jay is 松鸦 i could use that haha and she went but the 鸦 character is awful#you could be 松雅! its then a pun and makes me sound fancy. and i was so happy just making choices and getting to like#pick my own name that peoplw could use. really a revelation. anyway i was kinda on hold for a bit living at home but now im freer hearing#her go on that 'jays choice of name is so hard on me' rant really made me..... start thinking and reminiscing about my name. and me. u know#jay wasnt even my choice its just my initials that i started going by as like. plausible deniability that i wanted to change my name#i remember thinking more about it when i was younger and deciding against other names Specifically because it would be easier to go#'its just my initials!' yeah. im 25 is it too late to change names#sorry for long rambly disjointed rant. hope this was enlightening if u made it this far
11 notes · View notes
fioiswriting · 6 months
Text
Reunion | oneshot
Tumblr media
Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...
[Part 2]
Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI
Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course &lt;3
TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.
Words count : 7600
Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!
Enjoy 🖤
I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron
The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.
For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.
It had been the best solution, you knew. 
For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.
So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.
The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.
You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.
Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.
Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.
During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 
Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.
And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.
But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.
First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 
And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.
You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.
You loved him.
So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.
Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?
Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.
But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.
Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.
It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.
But above all, it was haunted by him.
The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.
You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.
But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.
Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.
On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.
When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.
"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 
You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.
"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.
It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 
Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.
The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.
Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.
At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.
But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.
You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.
One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.
The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.
And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.
You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.
"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 
That voice. It couldn't be.
Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.
It can’t be.
That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.
"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."
The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.
It is impossible.
He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.
Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?
"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.
You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.
His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 
The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.
You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.
He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.
The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.
"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.
He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.
"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 
He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.
He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.
A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 
But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.
"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 
There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 
"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"
"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 
"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.
"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."
The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 
"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.
"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."
Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.
"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 
You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.
"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.
"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."
Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.
You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.
"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."
You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 
There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.
His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.
"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."
You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.
"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."
His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.
It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.
You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 
The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.
"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.
His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.
Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.
"On your knees then."
The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.
Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 
Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.
His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 
His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.
"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."
You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 
"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.
His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 
He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 
" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.
The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.
"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 
The memory was so close and yet so far away.
Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.
"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.
"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.
"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 
His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 
He doesn't let go of you. 
"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.
His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 
Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 
You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.
In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.
There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.
His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.
He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 
He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.
The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.
"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 
Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.
"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 
You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.
"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."
"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."
Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.
You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.
You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.
He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.
He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 
The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.
" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 
He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.
You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.
You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.
"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.
"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 
You need him. 
When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.
Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.
"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."
The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.
You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.
"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.
Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.
"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."
The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.
I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 
He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.
The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.
When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 
You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.
Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.
And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.
You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.
"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."
When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 
He lets out a hm and pauses.
"Is he yours?"
You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?
"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.
"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"
Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.
You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.
"No, he's not." 
The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.
"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.
You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.
You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 
" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."
You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.
"What did you say?"
You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 
"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.
It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.
Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.
Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.
"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.
"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.
He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.
And this time, he makes love to you.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 
"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.
"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.
It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.
Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.
"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"
The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.
"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 
He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.
"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 
You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.
You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 
Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.
You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.
"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.
You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 
But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.
2K notes · View notes
stsgluver · 4 months
Text
𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru
Tumblr media
synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?
wc. 3.5k
tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread
a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it
previous part / next part / series masterlist
Tumblr media
“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”
nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.
she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."
“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.” 
nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”
she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.
in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.
initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school. 
then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?
nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.
her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone. 
and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?
with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.
“–and that’s it basically.”
shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room. 
“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.
“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.
except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.
shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.
“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”
“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.
almost.
nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.
“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.
“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.
there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.
shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen. 
all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.
nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.
it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.
“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”
“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse. 
gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).
“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.
nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.
“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.
“to record us study! it’s motivational.”
“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves. 
“merry christmas!” 
nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.
“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.
“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.
“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”
“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.
she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.
so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.
there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.
the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.
nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.
“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.
“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.
“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief. 
“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.
“take your go yu.”
“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.
“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.
nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room. 
we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.
“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.
“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.
“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.
“don’t make me compliment him.”
“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”
utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”
you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”
“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself 
“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”
utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.
“you’re such an asshole.”
shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”
nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.
although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right. 
nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.
“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”
geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”
“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”
the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”
you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”
“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.
“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.
“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.
“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”
“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”
“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.
“are they staying together?”
“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.
“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”
you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”
“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.
nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.
“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.
he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–
“satoru.”
gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.
although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.
“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”
“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away. 
like that could’ve changed the outcome.
slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.
he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.
or maybe he could keep it.
gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.
Tumblr media
taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen
this tag list is insane ty all for the support
993 notes · View notes
miloformula123fan · 4 months
Note
Full fic??
I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!
OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here
part 3 is here
George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader
---
Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.
This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.
“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes
“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all
“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.
Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.
When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry. 
“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out
“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.
“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.
“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”
“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”
---
George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ‘Sargeant’  (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise. 
Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.
“Hello! I’m George and…’
“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”
“Y/N-”
“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.
“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”
“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”
As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”
“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”
“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”
George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’
---
Y/N was going to cry.
She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.
That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.
She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”
Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.
Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”
“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”
Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”
“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”
“You been doing this often?”
“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”
“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.
---
“LOGAN SARGEANT!”
“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”
“YOU GOT POINTS!”
“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”
“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”
“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”
“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”
“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.
You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”
“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”
---
Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name
‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’
She picked up.
“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”
“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.
“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, can you come answer the door?”
“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.
“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”
“You haven’t opened the door!”
“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”
“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”
“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”
“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”
“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”
“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”
379 notes · View notes
yongility · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media
NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 3/?
genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.
warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.
word count: +10k?
a/n: I’m sorry this took too long to post!! 😭😭 but I been so busy with college rn, I’m going to graduate this year so I’m like having a lot of work lately, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I was writing so that was the reason it took longer than expected, sorry!
I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind l had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.
I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!
if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!
The third day of the week arrived promptly, where (Y/N) found herself comfortably seated in one of the library chairs, with her chemistry books scattered on the table in front of her as she studied for the exams she had coming up, with Jungwoo beside her.
It was becoming her routine for the week; after last Friday's party, what she most desired was to avoid being at home, especially after having an argument with her mother when she returned from the party.
She didn't want to deal with her in a good time.
Annoyed that her mother had thought it was a great idea to take away her right to use her own car as punishment for disobeying her that night and leaving the house... staying in the library seemed the most pleasant option; with silence, able to listen to music through her AirPods, without her mother bothering her every five minutes and being able to review what she had learned in her last classes: it was something she could take advantage of. She took a sip of her vanilla latte, which had been sponsored by Jungwoo, who, in an attempt to apologize for abandoning her in that way during last Friday's party, promised to pay for each of her daily drinks for a week and a half, no matter the cost.
And even though (Y/N) could afford that or even triple, she was still happy about it. Gifted things tasted even better anyway.
Of course, she first gave Jungwoo a -no- beating after telling him everything that had happened during his absence, but still, she appreciated that her friend was okay even though she hadn't heard anything from him until Saturday night.
During these last few days, with a new routine, (Y/N) was almost always in the same places, at the same times, and if she was honest, she was surprised not to have bumped into Jung Jaehyun at any moment.
It was weird; she would normally see him somewhere around the school, either accompanied by Lucas or just sitting on one of the benches while smoking his 'n' cigarette of the day. But simply, since Friday, she hadn't heard anything from him... she hadn't even bumped into Lucas, which increased the level of strangeness, considering he was a social butterfly, he was always around. (Y/N) had been aware of her words after Jaehyun had taken her home: she could no longer continue with whatever deal they had, with all the stress of her own tasks and knowing that no matter what she did, her cousin wouldn't give up his addictions, it was best to give up.
Although it would hurt her soul to know that there was no way to help Daeho.
But thinking about it, she didn't know if she had really been sincere about each going their own way... apparently Jaehyun had taken it very seriously to not show up anywhere, and although (Y/N) knew very well that being close to him didn't bring her anything good... his presence hadn't been so bothersome in the last few days. Really, after sharing a few words and spending more time with him, she couldn't say that she disliked his existence. It was funny if you asked the (Y/N) from a month ago, there would be no way she could have imagined that, somehow, she would be related to none other than Jung Jaehyun, who, on the outside, just seemed to be one more problem.
She tried to stop thinking about it and tried to focus her gaze on the book in front of her, but after a few minutes... it was difficult for her. There was something inside her that made her feel uneasy but she couldn't think what it was.
"There’s a race in Kosmo today" her best friend's voice brought her out of her thoughts.
Kosmo was the neighborhood that was right in the middle of the city, dividing Kwangya and Neo Zone. (Y/N) knew that there were usually illegal races in that area because it was when the rich kids from Kwangya usually dared to compete against Neo Zone.
"And why should I care...?"
"Your cousin will go to bet," Jungwoo replied, interrupting her study session.
The girl opened her eyes in surprise and asked, "How do you know?"
"Daeho told Mingi, and Mingi told me," he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. The boy fell silent for a moment and cleared his throat. "Don’t you want to go?" He asked curiously.
(Y/N) looked up from her books and observed her friend incredulously. "Why would I want to go?"
"To keep an eye on Daeho," he answered.
"I'm still mad with him, I've decided not to help him anymore. I really tried, I've been trying for the past few years, but he doesn't want help and now I understand," the girl confessed, closing her book and letting out a sigh.
"Still... don't you think it would be fun? Getting out of our comfort zone a bit... seeing what all this racing stuff is about. I've heard they're amazing," Jungwoo insisted.
"Jungwoo, my mom will kill me if she finds out I went to an illegal race," the girl continued, taking a sip of her coffee.
"She won't find out."
"Jungwoo..."
"Come on, (Y/N), we won't even be in Neo Zone, it'll be in Kwangya only. We'll go, watch the race, and leave. We won't even make contact with anyone. We'll go on our own," the boy assured her, moving closer to her. "Please, I think it would be interesting to break out of our routine, just for one night, what could go wrong?"
"Many things could go wrong, Woo," she replied.
"We won't know unless we try," he pouted, clasping his hands together. "Please."
She hated how persuasive her best friend was.
She sighed and shook her head. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving without a second thought."
"I love you so much," Jungwoo replied, hugging her shoulders.
"And I really hate you."
______________________________________________
The night fell faster than she expected, and among the roar of engines and the intense music that could be heard on the outskirts of Kosmo, (Y/N) felt something cold run through her body.
She could see familiar faces here and there, some of her classmates from Kwangya were in the place, and from the opposite side, the cars and familiar faces of Neo Zone were present.
It was a strange atmosphere for her; she had always played it safe, and now she didn't even know what to think. She felt herself getting closer to Jungwoo to not lose him, the last thing she needed was for them to separate like they did at the party.
She didn't think she could survive alone.
And it's not that she was dumb to think otherwise, but her parents raised her in an environment where they made her believe that she shouldn't do things outside her daily life. (Y/N) was afraid of adventures. Her life was governed by being obedient and doing the right thing; she didn't know when the moment of rebellion she had a few days ago when she left home the night of the party had been wise.
And now finding herself in Kosmo secretly from her mother at an illegal race? She must have gone crazy.
She believed even more so that she had gone crazy when something inside her hoped to run into none other than Jung Jaehyun.
She didn't understand why the urgency of what was happening, and even less why she expected to run into Jaehyun before running into Daeho.
Maybe it was because she found it strange not to have seen him since last Friday's party.
But she knew that if there was one place Jaehyun wouldn't miss... it would be the race tonight.
"Are you looking for Daeho?" Jungwoo asked when he saw her looking around. "He's probably with Mingi."
How could she explain to her friend that the person she was looking for was none other than Jung Jaehyun?
She nodded without saying more, and they both continued on their way while cautiously observing their surroundings. The smell of marijuana and car engines was embedded in the place, the music made their ears ring, and the night breeze made their bodies tremble.
(Y/N)'s eyes drifted away when she noticed Lucas in the distance, having a conversation with another guy. Lucas felt her gaze on him and looked at the girl with confusion before approaching her after apologizing to his companion.
"Hey, Kwangya kiddos, what brings you here on this magnificent night?" Lucas asked enthusiastically.
"We wanted to know what these races are about," Jungwoo replied simply.
"Hmm, interesting," the tall guy nodded. "Well, you're in luck, Jaehyun will race today, are you sure you want to see the show? The best of the area against someone from Yellow Wood," Lucas explained while cracking his fingers slightly.
Upon hearing the guy's name, (Y/N) looked up and paid attention to Lucas's words.
"If you're interested in betting, come to me," Lucas advised.
"I think we're fine like this," said (Y/N).
"Alright, take care. I'll go look for my guy to get him ready for the race," Lucas announced as he patted Jungwoo on the back.
The guy walked away from them with a smile, and Jungwoo responded with one of his own, then he looked at his friend and frowned, "relax, you're anxious."
How could she not be?
But before she could even answer anything, a few meters away, she saw the familiar face she had been looking for. In the distance, the silhouette of Jung Jaehyun was leaning against his car while talking to a few guys from Neo Zone, his neck tattoos weren't very visible due to the darkness of the night but she could distinguish them a bit, then... as if he had called him, Jaehyun's gaze moved to connect with hers, making her freeze in place.
Jaehyun frowned when he saw her standing just a few steps away from him, looking like a lost puppy as she stood beside Jungwoo.
The sight reminded him of a month ago when Daeho had clumsily brought (Y/N) to Neo Zone. Although this time she was accompanied by her best friend, another rich and spoiled kid from Kwangya. He observed the outfit she had decided to wear, once again, just like that time, it wasn't extravagant, no famous brand could be seen in her attire, and the only piece of jewelry she wore was a pair of earrings that definitely looked like gold...
He hoped she wouldn't lose them tonight.
Because they made her look good.
The surprise was evident on the girl's face when she took a better look at the brunet's body, who was now walking towards her, wearing a hoodie with its hood over his head and as he got closer, the darkness of the night was no longer so intrusive. It hadn't been enough to hide the bruises that were scattered across his body.
There was one under his cheek, just below his left eye, and it was reddish, as if it were flushed. Then, looking at the ones between his jaw and his neck, she noticed how they subtly mixed with the ink of the tattoo he had on his neck. That one was difficult to distinguish thanks to the dark lines that adorned that part of his body, but if you paid enough attention, it was alarming.
When she lowered her gaze over his torso and then looked at his hands, she could see the intense shades of red that his knuckles contained, as if ground blood had accumulated on each of them.
It wasn't the first time she had seen Jaehyun or Lucas with a bruise or two on a school day, but it was the first time she had seen it up close.
Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Why was it suddenly doing this?
"Did you lost your way home?" Jaehyun asked when he was in front of her.
"Jaehyun," she muttered quietly, "... are you okay?"
The girl didn't need much to realize that was the stupidest question she could ask right now, of course he wasn't okay. And although she knew this happened regularly in Jaehyun's life, she couldn't help but fill her head with doubts; what had to happen for him to end up like this?
... was that the reason he hadn't gone to school?
A small smile appeared on the boy's face, and even with the different colors decorating his face, she could still notice the dimples that formed in it.
Why did he still look good?
"I don't think you came here to ask that, Angel," Jaehyun replied mockingly. "I really believed in your whole story about us going on our ways, so what are you doing at a race where most of the spectators are from Neo Zone?"
The girl was left speechless. "Jungwoo brought me here."
"Well, if that's the case, enjoy the races, I think it'll be fun for you to spice up your Wednesday nights a bit," he continued with a sarcastic smile.
"What happened to you?" She asked again.
Jaehyun didn't answer.
He had gotten himself into big trouble... all thanks to Jeno.
He had trusted that all his merchandise would be sold by the time Monday came around, but after being at Johnny Suh's party, where other dealers were also present, he didn't manage to sell what he needed.
He had a little less than half left in his pockets and in Lucas's.
Luck had not been on his side this time, and when he had to be accountable to Lee Sooman, he had to take responsibility for his brother's actions. And despite telling him that he would not take care of him like he used to after the argument they had... he'd much rather take the beatings he had received than see Jeno the way he did in the mirror.
That time, it really felt eternal. He still remembers the angry (but also mocking) look Sooman had on his face when Jaehyun and Lucas brought the money to his office and after asking Lucas none too kindly to leave, that was when Jaehyun knew what was coming.
With Cheol Uk by his side, leading him out of the office to the vacant lot not far from the warehouse, Jaehyun could do nothing but accept what was coming.
It was one blow after another, and he knew well that at that moment, defending himself was not something he should do or he would end up worse.
He remembers feeling every punch with tremendous pain, and all he could think about was Jeno and how he would have felt if it had been him getting beaten up.
At least Jaehyun was used to the beatings and had no choice; he already knew that all of this was part of being someone from Neo Zone, so he simply had to continue to comply with what Sooman demanded to the letter unless he wanted to end up again in the position he was in.
What felt like hours was really just a few minutes; Cheol Uk stopped hitting him after a while and without saying more, he left. Leaving Jaehyun in the middle of the vacant lot with a broken lip and eyebrow as he spat blood and reached for his abdomen for some support to get up and walk to where he knew Lucas was waiting for him.
How much more? How much longer would he have to keep with all of this?
But, right now, it wasn't something he should talk about.
"It's really not something you need to know," he replied with a smirk. "You came to enjoy the race, right? Then do it, I'll be running in a few minutes, if you don't get scared by the atmosphere here before that, I'm sure you'll want to see me," Jaehyun continued, winking at her.
"I think it'll be fun to see you in second place," the girl teased.
"Baby... I always win," Jaehyun bragged, looking her directly in the eyes.
It was then that the girl didn't say anything else, she just kept her gaze on his. She hated feeling intrigued by Jaehyun himself. Because right now she didn't even feel like she was in Kosmo, with Jaehyun in front of her looking directly at her, she didn't even feel real. She was getting into fire and she knew it.
And she didn't know if she could escape from it.
For a moment she felt a heaviness on her shoulders and warmth surrounded her, causing her to snap out of her thoughts and notice that the jacket that Jaehyun was wearing over his hoodie was now over her body.
"You were trembling like a chihuahua," Jaehyun explained. "Don't consider it an act of kindness, I'm just returning the favor after having done my jobs those two weeks... at least now they won't kick me out of school this evaluation period," he continued.
"I'm not sure if I should feel good knowing that I'm indirectly helping an illegal business," she replied, adjusting the jacket.
"No one needs to know," he replied. "Good luck tonight, don't get lost too much because things get interesting," he said, and without further ado, he turned around to go back to his friends.
(Y/N) stood perplexed in her place, and it was then that she felt Jungwoo's presence next to her.
"What was that?"
"I have no idea."
_______________________________________________
The next morning, after putting her books back in her backpack, (Y/N) looked at the jacket folded inside her bag, feeling a heaviness and remembering the events of the previous night.
The rumors were true... Jung Jaehyun was the best street racer in the area, because he not only competed once the day before, but two more times, winning 3 victories in a short time, and to be honest, it had been impressive.
She hadn't run into him again after the brief conversation they had, and even though she had been waiting for it... she and Jungwoo bolted from the place when they heard the police sirens approaching Kosmo.
The last thing she needed was for her parents to find out about her escapade.
She didn't hear anything from Daeho the night before, she even doubted if he had really gone to the race.
She didn't want to give too much importance to the situation, which is why she chose to continue her path through the school hallways, hoping to return the jacket that was at the bottom of her bag and trying to divert her thoughts to something other than Jaehyun.
And as if she had summoned him, she saw him under the entrance roof as he leaned against the wall and took a drag from the cigarette in his hands. (Y/N) checked the day's weather and cursed when she noticed the raindrops falling lightly. She had forgotten about today's forecast.
Jaehyun was lost in his thoughts as he watched the rain and let out the smoke in his chest.
The bruises were still visible.
She stopped abruptly to take the jacket out of her bag and, without saying anything, approached him and handed it back to him.
Jaehyun looked at her with a raised eyebrow and blew out the smoke from his lungs.
"You're welcome," Jaehyun said as he took the jacket in his hands.
"Yes, thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks flush.
"Where did you park your car?" Jaehyun asked out of nowhere.
"I didn't bring it with me, my mom confiscated it," she blurted out without thinking, and when she turned to look at Jaehyun, she noticed a mocking smile on his face.
"Oh, mom took away your Porsche," he pouted mockingly and shook his head. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"I'm fine, Jaehyun. Thanks," she said as she looked at the rain.
"Come on, it wouldn't be the first time I've taken you. Plus, the school won't be closing anytime soon."
She thought about all the possibilities that crossed her mind, but something about her was excited to think about the ride home.
"Where's your car?"
______________________________________________
It was fortunate that his car was nearby.
Jaehyun turned on the heater as soon as they got into the car, and without further ado, the journey began.
It was just like the first time they had been together in the same car. Without saying anything, both with their eyes focused on the road, and it was then that they both realized that they didn't have a topic of conversation. The few times they had interacted had been about their interests and what they needed from each other at the moment. However, Jaehyun didn't know anything about (Y/N) that he hadn't heard at school, and (Y/N) didn't know anything about Jaehyun that she hadn't heard in the hallways or from her parents about the people from Neo Zone.
At this point, they weren't even acquaintances.
They had just coincided in something and that was it.
(Y/N) took the opportunity to send a text message to Jungwoo and tell him that he no longer needed to pick her up, without explaining more, she sent the text and subsequently, Jaehyun's phone rang.
The boy sighed and cautiously looked for a quick place to park even with the sound of the mobile phone ringing filling the car. He took the device and (Y/N) could notice the slight tension that seized Jaehyun's body as he read the caller ID, without thinking twice he answered the call.
The brunette felt weird being able to hear Jaehyun's conversation, so she tried to distract herself with something else. First with her phone, then looking out the window where she could see the rain beginning to dissipate, and then she could hear a "I'll be there in a moment" that made her react and turn to see him end the call.
The boy scratched his neck and then brought his hands to his face to rub it, let out a deep sigh, and looked at (Y/N).
“Uh, I need to do something quickly and your house is still a bit far... Do you mind if we stop by that place first? It's on the way” he asked with no other option.
“Does this has to do with your job?” She asked.
It took him a moment to respond: — No, it's not about my job. You can stay in the car, it's just that, I really need to get there.
After seeing Jaehyun's face and not being able to decipher what he was trying to say, (Y/N) nodded, not very sure, and that was enough for Jaehyun to quickly start the car.
Thousands of thoughts ran through (Y/N)'s mind. Eager to know where they were headed; she didn't know if she should believe Jaehyun that this wasn't about picking up or delivering goods or meeting someone who worked on the same thing he did.
She was only sure they wouldn't go to Neo Zone because they were far from there.
She could see how impatient Jaehyun seemed while driving, and that only made her even more nervous. What exactly did they tell him in that call to make him like this? She wanted to ask, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.
She didn't know how many minutes had passed, she only knew that the rain stopped just before the car parked and she finally noticed where they were. A gray building was a few meters away from them, and it wasn't hard to recognize it.
It was the National Rehabilitation Center.
A long and large building, which was accompanied by an extensive garden, and from the outside, you could see that there were a huge number of rooms inside it.
Her head was flooded with even more questions knowing that this was the place where Jaehyun was needed.
“You can stay in the car if you want. I'll be back in a moment” Jaehyun said as he opened the car door and got out.
Curiosity got the better of her.
And that's why she got out of the car and followed Jaehyun. Without saying anything, they entered the building where they were immediately greeted by a nurse who seemed to know the boy well.
“Jaehyun, I'm glad you were able to answer the call” said the woman as she greeted them. “We need to talk to you”.
The boy nodded and turned to (Y/N), who just nodded and said, “I’ll wait for you.”
He smiled slightly and walked with the person until they reached the reception where she was able to pull out a few papers.
It had been, perhaps, about two weeks since the last time he had been there. A place he was very familiar with and where he regularly went; he had become good friends with the friendly nurses who apparently didn't care where he came from.
He was grateful that the nurse didn't say anything when his bruises and wounds were clearly visible.
“Has something happened?” he asked after a few seconds.
“ He's fine” the nurse said with a smile “but we need to talk to you about his stay here” she continued.
That's when the small smile on his face disappeared. Jaehyun knew what she was referring to. He swallowed hard before the nurse could speak.
“The payment is overdue, Jaehyun," the nurse confirmed what he already knew. "We care about Sicheng's health, but this is not my concern. You know that the center relies on patients' monthly payments, and the administrators in charge of them request them punctually," she commented as she handed Jaehyun one of the papers. "I understand your situation and Sicheng's, but there's nothing more I can do even if I wanted to; I've tried to delay the payment as much as I could, but unfortunately, it can't be delayed any longer. The administrators expect the payment soon, or we'll have to discharge Sicheng and send him home," she concluded.
It was difficult at first for Jaehyun to process everything the nurse had said, as more than ten things ran through his mind at once; one of them being his good friend Winwin, then, thinking about how he could quickly get the money he knew he owed to the clinic, considering the beating he had just received for not being able to complete a sale. So, what would he do? He still needed half the money for that monthly payment, and between the clinic's expenses and those of his own house for his family, he couldn't see a way to get the money on time.
He would have to ask for more stash to sell if he wanted to do it.
He couldn't let them discharge Sicheng.
Not while he hasn't made progress.
"I'm sorry," Jaehyun said. "I... I still have a little left to complete the payment. It's just that lately, it's been harder, and... how much time do I have to pay it?" the breathless boy asked.
"Considering that it's only the first few days of the month, and the payment is already two weeks late... I can't give you more than three days," lamented the nurse, making a grimace.
"I'll try the impossible to bring you that money on Saturday. Sicheng still can't be discharged; he hasn't progressed the way he was supposed to," he affirmed, a slight pout evident in his mouth.
What a contrast there was between his expression and the bruises, accompanied by the tattoos on his body.
Being in the Rehabilitation Center was the place where he could be most vulnerable.
"How is he?" he asked, lowering his gaze.
"Same as the last time you came to visit him," commented the nurse. "We're doing what we can, Jaehyun, but as long as he stays the way he is, we can't move forward. We need his will to help him."
When no words came out of his mouth, the nurse continued: "Jaehyun, you know you can go see him."
For Jaehyun, each visit was just as difficult as the day he decided to admit Sicheng to that clinic, and each one left him more tormented than the previous.
He would give everything if that means that Sicheng would go back to be himself.
He nodded after a few seconds and cautiously glanced back, where, not far away, (Y/N) was reading some brochures and observing the facilities around them; when she noticed the boy's gaze on her body, she walked toward him carefully.
The brunette didn't really know what came to his mind or what caused those words to come out of his mouth, but when he wanted to back off, it was too late, because they had already been expressed.
"Are you coming with me?"
And although (Y/N) had no idea why they were there or where they were going, she accepted anyway. So they found themselves walking down the long whitewashed hallway until they reached an elevator, and then they went up about three floors.
The atmosphere was cold, the hallways and rooms were well-lit, and they could see a few nurses and what she assumed were doctors walking around in their lab coats.
Jaehyun didn't know why he was allowing himself to show her that part of his life, especially when it was such a fragile part for him. He had tried to protect it cautiously for the past few months, and now he was there, accompanied by Hwang (Y/N), with the person he never thought he would meet at that moment.
He hadn't really thought of her when he asked if they could go there before going home; his head was only thinking about the clinic and Sicheng when the call had ended, and it was too late to change his mind when they had set off.
He just hoped the girl would be discreet enough.
They reached room 119, where Jaehyun pushed the door open and where in a wheelchair, they both could see Winwin, who was facing the large window of his room, looking outside.
(Y/N)'s surprised face did not go unnoticed; she was confused in a thousand ways. She knew who Dong Sicheng was; everyone in her school knew him, however... she thought he had simply left the city. She had no idea he was in that place. So in her head, thousands of questions arose about him, why he was there, and why he was in a wheelchair.
She could only react when she heard Jaehyun's voice: "Hey, buddy. How are you today?"
Nothing.
That's what he received.
Jaehyun walked over to him, and when he stood next to him, he crouched down enough to be able to observe him better. Winwin had his gaze fixed forward, his cheeks were a little rosy, his hair fell over his forehead, and his hands were resting on his legs.
Jaehyun sighed.
"Oh, I see you've taken a shower today," the boy mentioned with a smile, and again, there was not a single response.
When he noticed the presence of the girl, who had remained in her place throughout the visit and hesitated to approach them, he spoke: "Today I'm not alone; I brought company. Maybe you'll find it helpful to hear another voice that isn't mine or Lucas's... or the nurses'," the boy teased and gestured to the brunette to come closer, who obeyed. "Do you remember (Y/N)? She was in our class; we've coincided a couple of times, that's why she's here."
"Hello, Winwin," she greeted softly. Jaehyun made a grimace and stood up from his place to be at the girl's height.
"Don't expect an answer," Jaehyun commented. "There won't be one."
"I thought... I thought Winwin had moved to China," (Y/N) confessed.
Jaehyun snorted: "Yes, that's what everyone thinks."
Those words took her by surprise, and it was when she decided to remain silent, watching from a distance the little interaction between the boys: it was just Jaehyun saying a few words while adjusting Sicheng's hair without expecting any response.
Dong Sicheng and Jung Jaehyun had been friends since birth, being two little boys who grew up on the streets of Neo Zone, it was easy to click with each other. Winwin's parents had decided to move to the infamous area after his father had met Lee Sooman in some low neighborhood in Wenzhou, China, and he had offered him a job where he could have his family at least a little better off than in his country.
Winwin had not joined the gang since it had not been of great urgency to him; his father was the active member needed by the family, and if he were honest... the farthest he could be from the Neo Zone gang... the better. He was always Jaehyun's companion at all times. Best friends who shared every detail of their lives for years, Jaehyun took care of Sicheng, and he provided the most sincere friendship he had ever had... then, a while later, Lucas Wong and Mark Lee joined their adventures.
Four boys from Neo Zone with the desire to conquer the world, but unable to leave their sad reality behind.
Jaehyun still remembers that fateful day a year ago, and he still feels like it happened yesterday.
The guilt gnawed at him every passing day, terrorizing each of his nights as he wondered: Why?
Why did something like that have to happen to someone as good as Dong Sicheng was?
A year ago, when Jaehyun had chosen to go deliver a package of stash after Winwin had asked him to stay and keep him company, and he had denied that request... that decision still drilled into his head.
Winwin's family and he had been robbed in their own home. Knowing who had done it, the reasons for the event, and who had ordered such inhumanity, were still a mystery. When Winwin's parents along with him tried to flee the place by leaving in a car; it had not been the wisest decision they had made at the moment... because not long after, outside of Neo Zone, after the group of people who had robbed their home managed to shoot a clean shot in one of the tires of the rear part of the car, causing Winwin's father to lose control of his own vehicle and not a few meters later it would impact hard enough for the car to be shot in another direction, causing immediate damage.
Jaehyun only remembers receiving a call from Lucas and minutes later finding himself at the entrance to the Emergency Room of the General Hospital, where a stretcher with Winwin's body was being transported.
He remembers seeing the blood. He remembers hearing Lucas and Mark's screams asking to see their friend. He remembers standing still at the entrance to the Emergency Room.
But above all, he remembers thinking, what would have happened if instead of deciding to go sell that stupid package of stash, what if he had stayed at home with his mother and Sicheng?
A week in a coma and a diagnosis of paraplegia was what made Jaehyun lose his mind.
It had been a year since the accident, and Winwin had not even progressed a bit. After being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, it had been difficult to help the injury in the dorsal spine that he had suffered; the damage had been partial, Winwin could handle his movements and his sensitivity to walk again... if only he would come out of the state of shock he was still in.
There were too many things he experienced in so few minutes, so much physical and mental pain for what happened, that now, Sicheng couldn't react.
It had been a year since Sicheng hasn’t spoken.
The doctors assured that he could hear and understand everything, but he was simply mentally tired to process the words and make them come out of his mouth.
His body didn't react as it should either.
And until Winwin had the strength of his own will to do it, the only thing they could do at that clinic was to keep him on medication so that the pains would not persist.
But Jaehyun couldn't take it anymore.
What he would give for Sicheng to be able to enjoy life again.
Unfortunately, the visits he made to the hospital... didn't last more than half an hour since that was the place's regulation. So, his farewell was as quick as his arrival.
"See you on Saturday, Win," he put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't give the nurses too much trouble."
He could swear he heard Winwin laugh and say goodbye.
Even though that really didn't happen.
(Y/N), who throughout the visit remained silent observing both boys, could feel her heart in her hand. She had never believed she would see that vulnerability on Jaehyun's part, and knowing what it was about because of the importance his best friend had in his life, made her heart ache with sadness even more.
"Now I'll take you home," murmured Jaehyun when he passed by her without saying anything else.
The girl glanced back, looking for the last time at Sicheng's silhouette, who hadn't moved from the same place since they had both arrived in the room. She took a deep breath and left the room when Jaehyun was already far enough away.
She didn't know what to say. There were no words of comfort for the situation, and she knew it, that's why they both silently said goodbye to the nurse who had received them and continued like that until they entered the car, which was not parked far away.
Jaehyun allowed himself to lean back on the driver's seat as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
"I guess you have many questions," Jaehyun said without opening his eyes.
She had.
"I don't know if I really should ask them," (Y/N) confessed as she looked at him.
The boy remained silent for a few seconds.
"Sicheng and his parents had an accident a year ago," Jaehyun said, opening his eyes to look at her. "An accident that was caused."
"By whom?"
"No one knows," he replied, taking his hands to the steering wheel of the car and squeezing it tightly. "His parents died instantly... Winwin arrived at the hospital in critical condition; it was a miracle that he came out alive."
"Why...?"
"Why is he in this clinic?" he interrupted, and she nodded with a knot in her stomach. "The accident had a great impact and damaged on his dorsal spine; the doctors diagnosed partial paraplegia; his sensitivity in his legs was minimal, and he couldn't make any extensive movements with his legs that didn't make him cry from the pain. After seven days, he woke up from the coma and realized everything that had happened, including my uncle's death... he hasn't said a single word since then... the doctors said it would take time for him to recover, and that eventually, he would speak, but Winwin doesn't have the will to do it; he's still in a kind of state of shock, and that has delayed his recovery," he explained, unable to see her in the eyes.
"Who... who pays for all this if Sicheng's parents aren't here?" she asked curiously.
Jaehyun sighed; "For the first few months, my boss covered part of the monthly fee, until suddenly he stopped doing it. Since then, I've been taking care of it."
The girl's expression was one of surprise.
"How do you do it?"
"That’s the reason I'm in the business that I'm in," he replied, changing his gaze to her, being able to see directly into her eyes and causing her to feel a shiver run through her body.
There was something about those bruised eyes that had done something to her.
"It must be hard," the girl said in a murmur.
Jaehyun snorted and nodded slowly. He hated being seen in his less tough character. The only person he allowed himself to be like that with was Lucas... or Winwin. And for a stranger to see him like that... made his blood boil.
"You know? Winwin loved dancing," Jaehyun said, smiling sideways as the memory came to his mind.
That fact wasn't strange for (Y/N), she remembers seeing Winwin at the school theater... the only boy from Neo Zone who was part of the dance team. She didn't even know how he had managed that, but he must have been good if the Kwangya students allowed him to be in the group.
"Now nobody knows if he'll be able to do it again," Jaehyun continued. "Winwin was the only one of all of us who really had a future, he wasn't even a gang member... he hadn't even gone through his initiation, and look how he ended up."
(Y/N) swallowed.
"Mark Lee is no longer friends with you, right?" The girl asked curiously.
"Things got complicated with him after the accident."
The brunette fell silent for a moment and then shifted her body to face him.
“Haven't you thought about looking for another alternative?” she questioned again “You know? If you let me help you, maybe I could get you a position at my father's company and...”
“Shh. I think I've told you it's not that easy.”
“ But it could be” she insisted.
Jaehyun scoffed and shook his head as he looked away from her.
“I not only have to cover this quota, I also have to bring money home, for my mom and for Jeno. It's the easiest way to get what I need” he confessed “besides, I told you once... in Neo Zone there's no way out, once you're in, you're in forever.”
The tattoos on his neck were what sentenced him to a miserable life forever.
But as long as that miserable life helped to ease the pain and managed to make Sicheng return to who he was, it would be worth it.
“It doesn't have to be like this” she murmured, focusing on her own hands.
"You don't know what it's like to be part of this," he countered in a low voice.
How had they opened up to have such a conversation so suddenly?
The girl felt her lip tremble as she remembered the scene she had witnessed minutes earlier in that room, and she couldn't help but think about how it would feel to lose a loved one in such a way... knowing that physically they were present, but mentally they weren't there.
(Y/N) had always had a heart easy to move, but she really never believed that Jung Jaehyun would be able to achieve that.
"Is that why you insist on continuing school?" she asked, looking at him again.
"Students are my best clients," he replied with a half smile.
(Y/N) didn't know how to take that.
She closed her eyes for a moment and then said, "I can help you with a few more assignments," she assured. "But only for a while and in my own way. But, I don't want you to involve me in any of the problems you're in, it will only be school matters. I don't want to be associated with anything you do, if anything you do is enough to help Sicheng, I'll try not to question it."
Jaehyun couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"If that helps you help me and me stay in school..." he paused "...I might be willing."
"What's the reason for your change of heart?"
"Because if I were in the same situation as you, I would also want someone to somehow help me," she replied, hugging herself.
The boy nodded with a half-smile, and without further ado, he started the car.
"Only school matters," Jaehyun confirmed.
She definitely didn't know what he had just gotten himself into.
______________________________________________
The day after the visit to the National Rehabilitation Center, something happened that made (Y/N) unable to concentrate enough during class hours. Her mind kept going back to the place over and over again, but how horrible was the situation the boy was in. One day you're capable, and the next... not even being able to move. How could anyone endure that?
At some point in the morning, during the physics period, her mind was spinning, her leg moving anxiously, and she bit her lips. She tried to erase the conversation she and Jaehyun had had the day before a thousand times and tried to erase the image of Winwin in that room.
But it was impossible.
Just when she thought she had succeeded, the image returned immediately.
She hated being someone who cared too much about things.
Because she knew something wasn't right with her when she found herself in front of the doors of the Rehabilitation Center.
Her coat shielded her from the cold breeze on that day, and as she clutched her bag to her, she didn't think anymore and entered the place.
She felt a little out of place when she entered the center, but after a few minutes, a presence came in front of her.
"Hello, good morning," the nurse greeted her. "Oh, you're the girl who accompanied Jaehyun yesterday, right?" She asked in confusion.
The girl smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm Hwang (Y/N). I'm Jaehyun's classmate... and Winwin's."
"How nice of you to visit us... are you here to see Winwin? It's rare to see someone come for him other than Lucas or Jaehyun," confessed the nurse.
"Um, yes... I could say I'm here for a visit," the girl smiled. "But, to be honest... yesterday I overheard a bit of his conversation with Jaehyun... I know Winwin's payment is delayed this month."
"Yes, usually Jaehyun finds a way to pay on time," she sighed. "But this month it's been delayed for a few weeks, and if I'm honest, I've been doing everything I can to keep Winwin from being discharged."
The girl nodded and asked, "Do you think Winwin's treatment will still take time?"
"I can't answer that accurately," admitted the nurse. "It's all a matter of Winwin's will, but to be honest, right now he has no will at all, so far as we're concerned, and if the payment continues to be monthly... he could spend another half a year here."
The girl understood the situation, and although she would like to think more about it... she didn't, so she didn't even know when she blurted out those words: "Is there any way I can pay for the next six months?"
The nurse's eyes widened with surprise, and she looked at the girl with enthusiasm. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," she replied. "I would like to help one of my classmates as long as I can. Money is not a problem," she confessed.
"Wow... thank you, i really appreciate that. Winwin is a boy with a lot of potential from what we know, and although we're sad that we haven't made the progress we want, we know that someday he will leave through that door better," (Y/N) smiled nostalgically.
"I just need to ask you something," the brunette confessed. "Could you not tell Jaehyun that I've paid?" she questioned.
"I don't know if it's easy to lie to someone like Jaehyun," the nurse laughed. "But since it's something good you've done... I'll try," the nurse walked to the desk with (Y/N) behind her. "(Y/N)?" She called and paid attention. "I know there may be many things about Jaehyun... but he's a good guy... beneath all that facade; he really has something good."
Those words hammered in her head. "Thank you."
_____________________________________________
(Y/N) reviewed the same line of text she had read five times now on some molasses topic. Trying to understand the topic deeply.
The air coming lightly through one of the library windows was enough for her to try to hug herself to take warmth, read a bit from the physics books on the table, and impatiently move her leg.
She didn't know at what exact moment a tall figure stood in front of her, but what she did know was that that person didn't seem very happy.
"Why did you do it?" Jaehyun let out while looking directly at her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," (Y/N) replied while looking at her book attentively.
"I know you know. I thought I told you I don't need your money," Jaehyun repeated with annoyance.
"I still don't know what you're talking about," the girl stopped seeing her book and changed her gaze to the boy.
"Don't play with me," the boy exclaimed exasperatedly. "Why did I went to the center today and they told me Winwin's treatment has been paid for the next six months?"
The girl shrugged. "It could have been your boss."
"My boss doesn't give a shit about Winwin!" Exclaimed the boy. "I told you I didn't need your money, I was clear, I don't want to owe anything to anyone from Kwangya."
"You don't need to pay me back," the girl assured, standing up in front of Jaehyun. "With the money you'll save from that, you'll be able to sell less."
"It seems you don't understand a fucking thing!" Jaehyun raised your arms with annoyance. "Paying or not paying for Sicheng's treatment, it doesn't change the fact that I sell drugs!" The boy explained regardless of where they were; they were lucky the library wasn't being occupied by other people.
"Everyone starts somewhere!" the girl attacked. "I just wanted to take a weight off your shoulders."
Jaehyun scoffed and looked at her with a sarcastic smile.
"Why? I don't need your pity! If you hadn't accompanied me yesterday, you'd still be thinking Winwin had moved to China! You didn't give a fucking damn even when he was your classmate!"
(Y/N) started gathering her things and putting them in her backpack.
"Saying thank you would have been enough, Jaehyun!" the girl remarked. "I know you can do better with your life," she murmured as she turned to look at him.
Jaehyun's blood was boiling; he hated when people interfered in his life, as if he didn't already have enough to deal with.
"You don't know anything about me! You said it yourself; we're not even friends," he retorted.
"And what if I want to get to know you better?" the girl exclaimed without thinking. They both fell silent, staring into each other's eyes. (Y/N) didn't even want to say those words, but she did.
She couldn't deny that Jung Jaehyun was intriguing. She didn't know why. She didn't know why she had been avoiding him for weeks, but since that night at Neo Zone, when they had talked about the deal, she knew it would be difficult to shake him off, and when she had... something inside her wanted them to meet again. Why are things so difficult? They are two different people from different backgrounds; why would she suddenly be interested in him? Was it because she saw him vulnerable the day before? Or was it because she believed there was something good in him, just like the nurse had said?
She must be crazy to think like that.
"You really don't want to do it," Jaehyun said with a bit more calmness.
"I know you can get out out of that hole, Jaehyun."
"Winwin's parents tried, and look how that ended up!" he exclaimed. "There's no way out in Neo Zone, get that through your head," he explained. "There's nothing good about me. I don't even know why you think so, just because yesterday you saw something different or because I drove you home a couple of times, doesn't mean you know everything about me!"
"Stop acting like a fucking jerk."
"Like a jerk? This is reality! Your act of charity isn't going to change my life. I was born a dealer, and that's how my life will end!"
"I really believe there's something good in you."
"Well, keep believing it."
"If you ever feel grateful, you know where to find me," the girl said, gathering her things and walking out of the library.
Jaehyun cursed under his breath and shook his hands in frustration. In just a few days, the girl had managed to push his buttons faster than anyone else from Neo Zone.
But when he saw her walk out the door, why did he feel regret for lashing out at her?
_______________________________________________
The week had been slow this time. (Y/N) and Jaehyun had been avoiding each other like the plague, not even looking at each other when they crossed paths in the hallway. For the girl, it seemed like childish behavior, especially coming from Jaehyun and his usual façade; now he seemed nothing more than someone throwing a tantrum after she only wanted to help him.
But she still thought she really wanted to get to know him better.
What was behind his façade? What was it that made him who he was? Not the boy from Neo Zone, not the dealer everyone knew... who was Jeong Jaehyun really?
That question had been on her mind for weeks, and it disappointed her a bit to know that she might never know the answers to those doubts she had about the boy.
Today was warm compared to the weather last week. The sun was shining brightly, and luckily for (Y/N), her mother had decided to return her car. So her day had started off on the right foot, and hoping for a good day, she took the opportunity to stop by her favorite coffee shop in Kwangya. Ordering her usual vanilla latte and just before it was time to pay, a thought invaded her mind, and after debating it internally, she decided to follow her thoughts.
An hour and a half later, when she was the last one to leave her physics class, someone blocked her path at the classroom door. Holding her book to her chest, after the unexpected startle, she looked ahead to find no one but Jaehyun. Who stood silently in front of her, with the same leather jacket he used to wear, the same combination of marijuana and vanilla scent, and with the same enchanting eyes, that she had just noticed.
She was in dangerous territory.
And she knew it.
"I need to go to my next class, Jaehyun," the girl said shortly.
For a few seconds, the boy in front of her didn't say anything, he just watched her, until he sighed and slowly said, "Thank you."
Short and to the point, he didn't say anything else, and that was enough to make (Y/N)'s heart flutter in a thousand ways.
"For the coffee," the boy finished. "And for the notes."
"I did my part, I told you I would help you," said (Y/N) as she fiddled with her fingers.
"I thought you wouldn't after the last time we met," Jaehyun confessed.
"I'm sticking to that."
A small silence ensued. Two people face to face. With thousands of doubts between them and things to resolve. What had drawn them together? How was it that the universe managed to put two completely different people in the same place?
"Did you mean it?" Jaehyun asked, and when he noticed that (Y/N) didn't understand what he meant, he continued. "About wanting to get to know me more."
(Y/N) swallowed hard and looking him in the eyes, nodded.
"I still believe there's something good in you."
"Why?"
"I don't know yet," she replied honestly. "And it's killing me. A while ago, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with you, not even to cross paths, but now, I don't know what's changed, but every time I try to stay away, it's like something brings me back here," she confessed, leaving Jaehyun speechless, who just watched her, trying to decipher everything she was saying.
It was killing him too.
"Let's go to my car," he said.
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"You want to know more about me, then get in my car," he said again, this time making his way to the parking lot, with (Y/N) behind him, who didn't say a single word, just followed his lead.
What was he doing?
When they reached the car, Jaehyun opened the passenger door, causing (Y/N) to get in without protesting. Then Jaehyun got into the driver's seat and without further ado, started the engine. She didn't know what was happening or what would happen next, but right now she could only trust Jaehyun.
Even though she didn't know how bad an idea that might be.
A few minutes later, as they had traveled a long distance, (Y/N) noticed they were approaching Neo Zone, and with her eyes wide open, she panicked.
"This is me," Jaehyun said out of nowhere, catching the girl's attention. "See all these streets? This is where I belong. This is what I am," he explained carefully.
(Y/N) looked out the window, a couple of people smoking on the sidewalk, others passing joints, and other silent streets. The houses weren't that big... rather, they looked cramped. Unlike what she was used to, to her lifestyle, this didn't seem like it would be enough for a family.
But what did she know with the privilege she had?
"I grew up here, this is what I know," he commented. "Most people are born and die here, it's something that seems to be already written," he continued as his car slowed down. "Those of us from here have a different perspective on life... people from Kwangya lives for the money... we live to survive, and although it's getting harder and harder, we manage to do it," the car finally stopped, and still looking out the window, (Y/N) saw a small house in front of them. One story, not much to describe or point out, it was small but for some reason, it looked cozy.
(Y/N) changed her gaze to Jaehyun, who was still looking ahead and spoke.
"Is this your house?"
Jaehyun nodded.
(Y/N) smiled softly.
"Would you invite me in?"
______________________________________________
He doesn't know how (Y/N) managed to have an effect on him, but now they were there, inside his little house, (Y/N) carefully examining the walls around them and analyzing every aspect of the small space.
He was grateful there were no one at home.
"It looks cozy," (Y/N) said as she looked at one of the frames hanging on the wall.
"I guess it's not even a third of your house," Jaehyun assured to (Y/N).
“And no matter how many people are there, it always feels lonely," she confessed. "It's like no one leaves anything there, like it's something unimportant. As if it's not a home," she finished.
Jaehyun looked at her gently, and as she looked around, thousands of things went through his mind.
"To be honest with you," the girl spoke. "I see more vibes from Jeno in this house than yours," she said. "Many things here seem related to Jeno... but I don't see many things related to you..." she continued. "It's like you don't even think about staying here for long."
"I don't plan on leaving Neo Zone," Jaehyun asserted, crossing his arms.
"Don't you want a different future?"
"There's no future for me," Jaehyun pointed out. "And if there were, I'd prefer to give it to Jeno. He has much more to live for than I do."
"You also have a life to live. A future to write, you can change what is today, for something better," (Y/N) turned around to face the boy.
"I have no way out," the boy replied. "Do you think this is easy? After seeing my dad die and doing everything my bosses ask me to do no matter what. Taking care of my mom, Jeno, and now Winwin? Huh? Making sure Winwin becomes who he was again and that my brother doesn't end up being a fucking addict are enough reasons for me not to leave here," Jaehyun concluded, getting dangerously close to her, with a few centimeters separating them.
The words echoed in her head strongly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't pity me," Jaehyun said under his breath.
"It's not that. It's just that every time I think about all this and now that I see your place and I don't see anything that seems to belong to you, it makes me think that's what you're looking for, to belong to something and leave here as soon as there's an opportunity,"
Jaehyun looked directly at her, not knowing what to say. And afraid to think that maybe she was right.
Because yes, maybe he wanted to get out of there, along with his mom, Jeno, and Winwin; maybe he wanted to do something with his life that wasn't illegal, but what was the point of thinking about it when he knew he wouldn't make it? He was afraid to admit that he wanted to be able to change things, to be able to make his family okay, that no shadow from the past would follow them, that they would have a place where they could forge a clean and safe future.
"This has never been about what I want," Jaehyun commented with a future. "Since I was born, everything around me was the gang. After my father's death, I knew what was coming, and I knew I would never be able to get out of it. It doesn’t matter what I want. It matter what my boss wants, he has that kind of power, no one below him has their own decision. The whole life of Neo Zone is ruled by him," he concluded, even closer to her.
(Y/N) looked him in the eyes, her breath uncontrolled. Her chest heaved, and her hands were sweating.
"What do you want, Jaehyun?" she whispered.
The boy paused for a moment and looked at her lips.
"Now?" he asked, and she nodded. "Would it be unrealistic to say that I want to kiss you?"
"How realistic would it be to say that I want you to do it?
She didn't even finish the question because Jaehyun's lips collided firmly with hers. The boy's long hands slid through (Y/N)'s soft hair, her hair smelling of lavender shampoo. He gently covered her cheek with one of his rough hands, and she melted into the touch.
It wasn't a hurried kiss, as (Y/N) thought it would be; actually, Jaehyun was taking the time to savor every passing second. As if this moment would disappear at any minute and he wanted to hold onto it.
Was he looking for something to belong to?
His hand moved from her cheek to her waist, and she took the opportunity to press her body against his and release a moan of pleasure. As if she felt complete leaning against Jaehyun's warmth.
As if it was something they both longed for for a long time.
And even though she wanted to continue with the act, they were severely interrupted when a car horn sounded incessantly outside the house, causing them to separate with tremendous confusion. (Y/N)'s red cheeks were enough to make Jaehyun's heart race, but when he heard another horn, he took her hand and they walked outside in hurry.
And then, there was Jeno, being thrown out of the back of a car, blood streaming from a cut on his eyebrow, bruises scattered all over his body, and falling firmly to the ground after being thrown.
"I want this to be the last time your brother sets foot in our zone. Next time it won't be him we throw," the familiar voice of a boy from the opposing gang spoke up. Chris. Who was with the window down and smiling maliciously. "Neither will it be you, Jung. It will be the girl who will end up like this,"
Jaehyun moved abruptly from his place to try to reach the car, but it left as fast as it could, (Y/N) shocked to hear those words, didn't do anything more than approach Jeno to help him up. Then Jaehyun cursed under his breath and looked into the distance at the girl and her brother together.
And his chest tightened as he realized that now, she too had been involved.
And he believed there was no turning back, because she was right... Jaehyun wanted to belong to something.
But how selfish would it be to belong to (Y/N)?
a/n: well now you know what happened to Winwin TT. Once again I’m sorry if this took too long I promise I’ll try to update sooner this time!
taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)
taglist: @spicyryujin @kriizztin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae
206 notes · View notes
asumofwords · 1 year
Note
So this is a rquest. Aemond and his niece got bethroted but shes not happy about it. So, to tease him in hopes of him putting an end to their bethrotal, she starts flirting with every lord, guard or men that she finds attractive on the Red Keep. But, one night, she takes things to another level and sneaks out to a party at Flea Bottom and hes the one who finds her dancing on top of a table and, even if its a sight to be seen(thats what the men watching her with hungry eyes think too), he finally snaps and drags her out of there into a private place where some dubcon smutty action happens ;). With him telling her "if you want to act like a whore, ill treat you like a whore".
A/N: Oooooh, juicy. Thanks for the request!!! I honestly love the idea of giving Aemond a run for his money haha. I love seeing a man become feral. I hope you enjoy hehe.
Unsought Betrothal
TW: Dark!Aemond, 18+, Noncon, Dubcon, Aemond being a cunt, forced marriage.
Words: 6k
Pairings: Aemond X Reader, Cregan Stark X Reader
Tumblr media
Your betrothal to the One-Eyed Prince was a shock you. 
Alicent had insisted that you marry your uncle in order to strengthen the bonds of your divided house, and your mother Rhaenyra was all too eager to agree. Despite the relationship of the two women having soured over the years, and efforts to rekindle it beginning, you could not say the same for Aemond. 
As a child, Aemond had been quiet, dutiful and albeit awkward, kind. Not quite fitting in, and baring the brunt of your brothers and other uncles bullying. Yet, underneath his quiet demeanour, was a simmering rage and vicious jealousy.
Lords and Ladies from all over the realm had come to join you this evening in the Red Keep to celebrate the engagement of the Velaryon Princess to the Targaryen Prince. The Hall was lined with tables and chairs, food piled high on gold and silver plates and goblets of wine and mead held in every persons hands. Music played loudly, and the overall mood of the room was happiness.
Except for you.
You sat at the table, watching the Court converse with each other, laughing loudly, and others dancing in the middle of the room as music played from the corner. All wore their finest gowns and silks, necks and fingers dripping with gold and jewels.
Aemond sat beside you stiffly, having not tried to converse with you as he simply observed the room of guests, goblet in his hand with a spiced wine from Dorne within. 
You sipped heavily from your goblet as you watched the celebrations, wishing for them to end so that you may disappear into your chambers, and enjoy the last few moments of solitude that you may have before you are wed to the Prince. 
How terribly dull. 
You had begged your mother to not allow this to go forward, to not accept the betrothal, but she refused. It was a way to prevent a war, she had told you, and that she had not been allowed to marry who she had wanted to either. 
And so you bit your tongue, and did what your mother bid you to do.
Sighing loudly, you pulled the goblet up to your lips, drinking the rest of the spiced wine quickly, feeling it leave a warm path down your throat as you swallowed. It settled in your stomach, and the buzz from drinking that evening began to rise. 
You turned your head to look at your uncle, “Are you going to ask me to dance?” 
Only the slightest, most imperceptible movement of his head, allowed you to know that he had heard you. You stared at the profile of his face, his sharp nose and face accentuated by the candle lit room. 
“Hm.”
The least he could do was dance with you, to pretend that he wanted you. To pretend that he cared for your happiness. You both had gotten along when you were younger, but when Lucerys took his eye, he had become most bitter and spiteful, always looking at ways to take it out on you.
Aemond would openly call you a bastard, trip you over and sneer at you. He would make comments about your hair, and dresses, your brothers and your father.
He made your life hell.
Standing abruptly you slammed the cup onto the table and shoved your chair backwards, before walking down into the space where everyone was dancing, leaving your betrothed to sit at the table with your family in silence.
Bodies weaved around each other and smiles lit up the room. The Lords and Ladies parted like the sea, to allow you to dance with them all, their hands coming up to their partners before spinning back around. 
As they made room for you, you were stood in front of Lord Cregan Stark.
Cregan was who you had hoped to be wed to, in fact who you had begged your mother to wed you to. You had heard nothing but praise about the man; of his bravery, of his loyalty, and of course his handsome looks. He had dark brown hair, almost black atop his head, it was lightly curled and sat just below his ears. 
He wore all black that evening, and the way his clothes fit his body made you want him all the more. As you looked at him he smiled, teeth showing as he bowed before offering you a hand. 
“Congratulations on your betrothal, Princess.” He spoke to you above the sounds of the music and people around you, as you held onto his hand and danced.
“Thank you, My Lord. You are too kind.” You blushed, as his hand came to hold at your shoulder. So respectfully.
“You have travelled far for such an occasion.” You noted.
“Of course, Princess. Who wouldn’t want to see such an event. And meet the famed Rose of the Red Keep.” You felt his hand come to the middle of your back, as you moved. 
The wine coursed through your veins as you spun again, feeling a burning sensation on your skin. As you looked up, you saw Aemond watching you and Cregan dancing, one eye narrowed and his lips pursed into a hard line. 
Perhaps you didn’t have to go through this marriage after all…
“I had hoped this would have been for us.” You purred, voice low so that only he could hear.
Cregan almost paused as he looked at you, dark brown eyes searching your face.
“You mock me, Princess.”
“I assure you, I don’t. I had asked my mother to betroth me to you. Though, she thought my uncle would be more advantageous. It is… tradition.”
The Stark did not answer you, instead his hand moved further down your black dress, settling on your lower back as you moved. You pulled apart from him, glancing up to see if Aemond was still watching.
He was.
“Would you mind accompanying me to get a drink, My Lord? I find that my feet are beginning to become tired, and I am thirsty for more wine.”
Lord Cregan bowed his head in acknowledgement, and led you through the crowd to the tables on the side. Picking up a goblet, you poured yourself a full cup, turning to face the dark haired man before thrusting the cup out to him to sip from first. 
His large hand brushed over yours and you felt heat pull through you. He pulled the cup to his lips and sipped, before talking.
“If I had known about your intentions for me, I would have rode here sooner.”
His voice was as smooth as butter, and you felt yourself drawn to him.
You felt that watchful eye on you still, burning into the side of your face.
“Or maybe I will have to ride back to Winterfell with you.” You stepped away from the table and closer to Cregan, pulling the cup form his hand, sipping the wine heavily as you slipped up to whisper in his ear.
“I heard that Starks never break an oath.” You let your lips graze his ear, and you felt the man pull in a breath, deep into his chest.
“We don’t.”
“That is… impressive.” You purr leaning back to look at him again, “So if we were to marry, and to speak our vows, you would honour them?”
“Would you?”
“One flesh,” You placed a hand on his chest above his heart, “One heart, one soul, now and forever.” You smiled at him. 
As you moved to lean closer to him, to invite him to follow you, to ensure people would witness you leave with him, to embarrass Aemond so that Alicent would annul the betrothal, you heard your name.
Both you and Cregan turned your head to see Aemond himself, standing beside you, eye glaring at your hand upon the Stark mans chest. Cregan took a step back, nodding his head at your betrothed.
“My Prince.” 
Aemond did not even spare the Lord a glance, nor even an amused, aggravated or bored hum like he usually did. He simply stared at you, and where your hand now hung limply by your side. 
“Come.” Aemond challenged you.
“Why?” You snipped back, turning to look at Cregan who stood where he was, looking all the more uncomfortable.
“You wished to dance.”
“Not anymore. I am tired.”
“Then I will accompany you to your chambers.”
“No thank you. I can walk myself.”
Aemond then turned his attention to the man who still stood beside you both, watching the stiff interaction.
“Do you have intentions to bed my betrothed?” Aemond questioned, as though he was asking about the weather. Tone all too uninterested, but lone eye bright with that quiet simmering rage.
“No, My Lord. We were merely talking.”
“Hm. Excuse us, we have much to talk about.” 
Aemond wasn’t asking.
Cregan nodded at your uncle before back at you, “Of course.” Before he turned back away and into the sea of people celebrating behind you. You watched, eyes wide and rage building inside, as your uncle stood in front of you were Cregan had.
“I see what you’re doing.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, Aemond.”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me, I have to finish my conversation.” You pushed to try and walk past him, back into the crowd.
Aemond’s hand grabbed your arm as you moved to follow Cregan back into the crowd, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of your arm.
“Let go of me.” You grunted, as you tried to yank your arm from his grip.
Aemond turned his head away from you, looking to the far wall where Ser Criston Cole stood. The man caught the Princes eyesight before coming towards you.
“Let. Go. Of. Me.” You growled, hand roughly pulling the One-Eyed Princes fingers backwards and off of you.
Ser Cole stood beside you, ever the dog of the Hightower’s.
“Please escort the Princess back to her chambers. She has had enough wine for the evening.”
“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Criston bowed, his brown eyes looking at your face expectantly. 
“No. I’m not going. These are my celebrations. And I am celebrating.” You snapped. Trying once more to weave your way into the crowd, finding Cregan’s gaze on yours as he watched the scene play out. 
“Don’t think you can whore yourself out to these Lords without me knowing.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hm.”
You snatched your arm away from his, before walking away from him back to the large table where you all sat. Alicent watched you anxiously as you sat back down, anger rolling off of you in waves, whilst your mother watched on in exacerbation. 
You spent the rest of the evening sitting at the table, not speaking to anyone else, watching Cregan from across the room, and feeling the gaze of your uncle as he observed you from your side.
You grew tired and restless from the celebrations and eventually excused yourself, bidding the table a curt good night before leaving the Hall and making for your chambers. The further you got from the Hall, the quieter the hallways became, until all that you could hear was the distant laughter and chatter of the court, celebrating an already doomed marriage. 
As you reached the end of another corridor that led to your chambers, you heard quickened steps on the stone floors behind you. Clasping your hands at your front you turned, expecting to see an angry Aemond, hot on your tails to berate you for the evenings events. 
What you did not expect was Cregan Stark, rapidly approaching you, hair wild and smile wide. His cheeks were a soft pink from the alcohol and likely the brisk pace he made to catch up with you.
“My Lord?”
“Please, call me Cregan.”
“Cregan.” You smiled, “Are you alright?”
The tall man stepped forward in a rush, his large palms coming to grab each side of your face before pulling you hurriedly into a chaste kiss, his lips pressing roughly against yours. He pulled away just as soon as they touched.
You smiled at him, stomach doing flips, heat crawling up your neck.
“Some Lords and my men will be going down to Flea Bottom on the morrows eve. Join us.” He asked, voice rushed.
Your smile only widened.
“Where?” You asked, looking behind him to make sure that no one else was listening.
“At the White Stag. Say you will come.”
“I will.”
Cregan’s smile made your heart warm. 
“Until the morrow. Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight.”
Tumblr media
The next day went by slowly, as you anxiously waited on night to fall, and for you to leave the Keep to sneak down to Flea Bottom to the White Stag, where you would meet with Lord Cregan Stark. 
You had avoided Aemond like you usually did, opting to stay hidden in the gardens or your own chambers away from him, planning what to wear in your head mentally all day. 
Soon the moon rose high in the sky, and you had your maids prepare you for bed, bringing a bath to your chambers, letting you soak in the hot water, scented with fragrant oils.  
They could not leave your chambers sooner, and after you had finished your meal alone and had your hair brushed, you slipped into your bed and closed your eyes, pretending to be tired so that the maids would leave sooner.
As you heard the chamber doors close, you shot up out of bed, discarded the chemise over your head before throwing one of your black gowns on. Although you struggled to lace it yourself, you still succeeded. You pulled a large black cloak from your closet and pulled the hood over your head before placing a hand on the face of a painting. With strength you pushed the painting backwards, revealing a hidden pathway behind, one that you and your siblings and uncles had used as children, and one in which, you knew your mother had used in the past too. 
Shutting the path door behind you, you slunk down the passageway, winding your way through the Keep, and then finally descending down large steps to Flea Bottom below.  
As you reached the small city, the streets were lined with people and noise, drinks were being drunk, songs being sung and even performances in squares were watchers looked on at puppet shows and plays. 
You wound your way through the streets, not entirely sure of where you were going. That was when you felt anxiety. You did not even know where you were, or how to get there. Or what even the White Stag looked like. You looked behind you and noticed that you couldn’t even remember what way you came. 
Before you could let the anxiety overwhelm you, you felt a warm hand placed on your shoulder.
“Princess.” Came the smooth timber of Cregan Stark. 
You smiled at the man who stood before you. Dressed in dark brown leathers with his hair brushed backwards out of his face, bar one lone curl that hung down from his forehead.
“You look lost.” He joked.
You huffed a relived laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Well, you'd best lead the way.”
The White Stag was a large inn, with stone flooring and walls, exposed wood detailing and low light coming from candles and a large fireplace. The windows were adorned with rich red curtains, and tables and chairs sat strewn amongst the space. As soon as you stepped inside, the air changed. It was hot, bodies were everywhere as they laughed and sang and even danced. Women sat atop mens laps or sang loudly as they stood nearby. 
Cregan sat you down at a table that was full of men, you assumed also from the North, with three to four women standing beside, or leaning against them. Most ignored you as you sat, a large pint of mead being placed in your hand, as Cregan sat beside you. Turning his chair to face you fully, as you looked at each other. 
“So, I have been thinking about what you said last night.” He spoke loudly over the sound of the inn. 
“What did I say?” You teased.
“About oaths.”
“Oh, I think remember.”
“I thought of something else.”
“And that is?”
“Oi Cregan, who’s the girl?” Came a booming voice of a man across the table. His skin was pale and dotted in freckles, almost like constellations. He had short dark hair and piercing green eyes. Before Cregan could answer for you, you replied.
“Y/n.”
The man tilted his head. “Has the Princess lost her way?” He teased, smirk rising on his face. 
“Leave her be, Dustin.” Cregan lightly warned the man, which only seemed to spark his interest more.
“So you are the Princess then. Where’s your husband?” Dustin asked, thick accent curling his r’s, as he looked behind you.
“I’m not married.”
“Ah, but you are betrothed.”
You sipped heavily form your drink. 
“Not for a lack of trying. I had hoped to have that betrothal annulled. Do you have a spare horse?”
Dustin’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, then to Cregan beside you who laughed.
“You lost your dragon?”
“No, but I think the North would be far too cold for him. Plus, easily spotted.” You smirked, sipping again before turning your attention back to Cregan.
“So, what else had you thought of?” You inquired.
Stark smiled down at you as he shifted his chair closer, the sound of the wood scuffing on the stone below catching in your ears.
“Thought about oaths that I would make to you.”
“And what would those be?” You leant in closer, hand coming to touch his thigh.
“I would swear to honour you.”
“Go on.” You urged him.
“I would swear to give myself to you fully.”
“And?”
“I would swear to ensure that you never hunger or thirst for naught.”
“For naught?” You ask, heat building inside of you as you drank. 
Cregan smirked in response.
“And what if I told you that I was starved?” You asked.
“Are you?”
“Of a sort.” You let your hand crawl higher up his leather clad thigh, the muscles rippling under your touch. 
“Then I would have to work to fix that.” He smirked.
As the night continued, you and Cregan sat closer and closer to one another until your knees were brushing against each other. Dustin watched on shamelessly as a woman sat upon his lap, long slender fingers brushing against his neck as she spoke quietly into his ear. 
The night was filled with the laughter and joy you had hoped for last evening. Ale was spilt upon wooden table tops and floors, as men and women began to sing louder and dance upon tables and chairs. Before long, the woman who had seated herself upon Dustin pulled you up with her, onto the table to dance. 
You let her grasp your hand, as you laughed, looking back at an amused Cregan and and even more amused Dustin, as you pulled up your skirts to jump atop a large table, where four others had begun to stamp their feet and sing loudly to a song you had never heard. A sea shanty tale. 
You let the ale guide your body as you twisted and danced, laughing loudly with the woman, who you learnt was named Sara. Her long auburn hair glowed in the light as you leant on each other to dance, one hand still tightly grasped in your skirts to keep them from ripping beneath your feet. 
Cregan’s icy eyes watched your movements as you let a hand trail up the bodice of your dress, watching him with intent as you swayed. Stark leant back in his chair, legs widening, with one arm leaning upon the table as Sara placed a soft kiss to your cheek in excitement. You felt a blush crawl over your cheeks. 
All eyes were on you, as the men watched you sway your hips, hands smoothing up your body in a slight tease. The ale making your movements bolder as you stared at Cregan, challenging him to take you somewhere more private, or if he so desired, there on that very seat.
Never before had you felt so desired.
As you bent forward to give the men a show of your cleavage, you felt the world tip suddenly, as a calloused hand ripped you from the table. Your ankle rolled sharply as you stumbled back onto the stone floor, iron grip bruising the soft flesh of your wrist. Your sight caught those of the table who watched you, no longer in a trance, stiffly. 
You turned your head to you assailant, finding one piercing purple eye and another sapphire watching you in distaste. Aemond’s lips were pulled down into a sneer and he held onto you tightly, three men from the Kings Guard behind him, as well as Ser Criston Cole. 
Cregan watched as Aemond towered over the both of you, looking down his nose as he watched in disgust, anger pouring from him in waves. And although he looked somewhat calm on the outside, you knew that this quietness was telling of Aemond’s simmering rage.  
“Do continue.” Aemond purred, pushing you roughly towards Cregan, your feet stumbling beneath themselves. 
“Don't-” You began before he interrupted you.
“-I think he was talking about fixing your hunger. Were you not, Lord Stark?” His one purple eye, boring a hole into Cregan's head.
Cregan did not answer, instead his jaw clenched. 
“No?” The One-Eyed Prince mused.
“Aemond, stop.” You hissed, ankle sore from the way you landed on it.
“But you seemed so content, dancing for these Northerners, niece. Continue.” 
“Fuck you. Craven.” You hissed, watching Aemond’s lip twitch upwards, before he looked back at Ser Cole.
“Ser Criston, have these men escorted to the edge of the city. I fear there has been treason this evening.”
Ser Cole and his men stepped forward, surrounding the table, as Cregan and his men looked up in shock. You looked at Cregan, wide eyed before turning back to Aemond.
“What? They did nothing wrong!” You began to panic.
“I fear there was a plot to tarnish your good name, Princess.” Aemond purred, snatching your arm painfully before beginning to pull you through the White Stag, and back out into the streets of Flea Bottom.
You dug your feet into the ground, trying to pull away from him, ignoring the slight pain of your ankle, but he was too strong for you, his bruising grip getting tighter the further he dragged you away.
“Stop! Let me go! They did nothing wrong!” You dug your fingers into his, trying to pry them away, but it was no use. He dragged you through Flea Bottom as onlookers watched.
You pulled a hand back, making a fist before you slammed it down onto his shoulder, “Get off!” You yelled.
Aemond stopped in his tracks, and you breathed heavily, still trying to pull away from your uncle. His head turned to gaze at you, his face completely devoid of any emotion, except the small twitch of his lip. His eye roamed you before looking behind you. 
Then suddenly he was moving again. 
Aemond pulled you into a small dark alley, bruising grip painfully throbbing up your arm. You looked frantically around you, but all had gone back to their business, and ignored the two Valyrians. He threw you forward into the space as your chest heaved, looking about to escape, but there was none. 
“If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like a whore.” He purred before he descended on you. His hands pushed you roughly against the wall of the alley, brick digging painfully into your back. You squirmed, desperate to get away from his grip, hands coming up to his chest to push your uncle away from you.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” He growled, hands roughly coming up to palm at your breasts and you fought to push him off, fear crawling its way up your throat.
“Did you truly think I wouldn’t know what you were doing?” He sneered, one hand pushing against your throat roughly, cutting off your air. Your hands flew up to try and pull his away as he kept you locked against the wall in the dark depths of Flea Bottom.
“You thought you could parade yourself like a whore,” His hand ripped the front of your bodice down, your breasts spilling forth from their confines as his violet eye watched greedily, fingers coming to pinch painfully against your nipple, “To try and have this betrothal annulled.”
The cool air kissed at your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. You pushed at him with all your strength, trying to run away from the sharp pinching of his fingers, and the lack of air he denied you. Each pinch made your body stiffen. 
You whimpered.
“But you misunderstand me, niece.” His hand left their cruel assault upon your breasts to roughly begin hiking your dress up your body, you felt panic and fear begin to settle in your stomach as you dug your fingers into his chest sharply with your nails , trying to get him to let you go, shaking your head.
“Do you think I would let some filthy Northerners touch you?” His hand slipped under your skirts, brutally digging into the soft skin of your sex, “It will be my seed that will grow inside of you.”
Aemond’s fingers rubbed up and down your cunt roughly, gathering what little wetness was there, before he thrusted two fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the sharp sting of his intrusion. His fingers moved in and out quickly and painfully, pushing roughly into your warm heat as he watched your face.
“This is what you wanted, yes? To be treated like a dirty whore?” He purred, as breathless whimpers left your lips, your hands weakly pushing against his chest as you felt your vision begin to blur from lack of oxygen.
Your uncle’s hand left your throat and you sucked in a greedy gulp of air, a sob escaping your lips as you clawed at his arm, trying to stop his movements, whilst the hand that left your throat came down to roughly grasp at your exposed breasts.
“What would Lord Stark say to see you like this, hm? To see the Princess exposed in the filthy streets with her uncle inside of her cunt. Would he still want you?” He growled, hand quickening its pace as you felt a warmth begin to settle in your lower stomach, the pain fading away to be replaced with the soft trickles of pleasure. 
“Stop, Aemond. Please.” You begged him, voice hoarse as a tear slid from your cheek. He had you pressed so tightly against the wall that you could not move your hips back to escape him, so that all you could do was let him use you.
“Please?” He mocked, face coming close to yours before he kissed the tear away from your cheek. He hummed.
Your betrothed thumb came to press sharply at your slit, as his fingers rubbed the soft spongey flesh inside of you, pulling pleasure from your forcefully. 
A ragged moan left your lips as you jolted from the sudden pressure. 
“Mmm.” Aemond hummed close to your ear, moving his hand faster and more brutally. You felt tears begin to prick at your eyes, as you felt yourself being forced closer to your peak.
“Are you going to cum, zaldrītsos?” (Little dragon) He purred in your ear, as his thumb swirled roughly against the small bundle of nerves, the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten.
“Are you going to cum on my hand like a filthy whore? Out in the open for anyone to see? Perhaps I should have had Cregan and his men watch how disgusting you are.” He mused, and you felt yourself clench.
“Go on, be a good whore and cum for me.” He growled, and you felt the coil snap, as his thumb and fingers sent you over the edge, crashing down into a powerful orgasm.
His hands did not stop their assault, as you tried to push him away from you, tears sliding down your cheeks as your body twitched in the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers only became rougher as they pulled at you, before suddenly they were ripped away, a gasp leaving your lips as Aemond roughly spun you against the wall, your cheek digging into the rough brick of the alley.
His hands pulled your skirts over the rump of your ass, before pulling you backwards towards him. Your hands caught the brick as you tried to pull yourself straight and away from him, as Aemond clicked his tongue behind you.
“Be a good whore, and take it.” He hissed before you felt the soft hard head of his cock brush against the lips of your cunt. 
You moved to pull away but you were trapped.
“Uncle, please. No.” You cried, as you felt him push sharply inside of you, pain blooming within as he broke through your walls.
Aemond grunted from behind you before he started a brutal pace, his hips slamming against yours roughly, as you felt the painful sharp intrusion of his cock inside of you. The head of it, roughly hitting your cervix causing shooting agony to ripple up your body.
“So fucking tight.” He growled as he continued his assault, broken whimpers escaping your mouth as you used your hands to hold you up against the wall in purchase, trying to crawl away from him. 
Your uncle leant forward, crushing you with his body as he rutted up inside of you, changing the angle suddenly, brushing over the soft spongey flesh inside of you, causing you to mewl.
“Does that feel good?” He mocked as he continued to rub himself against the spot, the pain of him taking your maidenhead replaced with the warm sparks of pleasure, building faster than before. You shook your head, trying to move away from him.
“No?” He asked, “Let me help you.” 
Two of Aemond’s fingers shoved roughly into your open mouth before it snaked down the front of your dress, pressing against your clit, swirling softer circles around the nub.
Your cunt clenched against his cock as he continued to rut against you, his soft grunts in your ear as you felt yourself begin to wet around him, his cock sliding in and out of you smoother, aided by your arousal.
“I think it does feel good. I can feel your slick.” He mused as he continued to rub on you.
You felt yourself rapidly descending towards your second release, your fingers digging into the bricks as you began to chase after the peak, hips subtly pushing back against him. His fingers began to rub faster against you, as he thrusted harder into you, cock grazing that special spot as the coil wound itself tight, ready to break again before suddenly he stopped.
Aemond pushed himself fully into you, the head of his cock pushing snugly against your cevix as his fingers lifted away from your clit, preventing you from reaching your climax. A soft sob fell from your lips as your hips pushed back into him, chasing what was denied.
“Uh uh.” Your uncle tutted, “Beg.”
A whimper left your lips.
You refused to beg. 
Instead, pushing yourself up and down his shaft shakily, trying to catch your release, though your movements were jagged and shallow, prevented by him pushing you up against the wall. 
“Aemond.” You whispered his name, feeling the pleasure begin to simmer away from you, dwindling rapidly. 
“Beg.” He purred, softly pulling out and then slowly pushing back in, his shaft rubbing through you, causing pleasure to spark.
“Uncle.” You whimpered again, grabbing his arm trying to pull him closer, but he did not budge.
“Be a good little whore, and beg for it.”
“Aemond, please.” You begged, as you pushed your ass back into him, using your hands to attempt to rind against him.
“Please what, sweet niece?” He purred in your ear, hand grasping your hip tightly to stop your movements.
You shut your eyes tightly before sucking in a shark breath, head turning against the bricks so that you could peer at him from your periphery.
“Please fuck me.” You whispered.
“I can’t hear you.” Aemond mocked, as ground his hips into you, causing a wave of pleasure to curl its way around your stomach.
“Please fuck me, Aemond.” You begged louder. Feeling shame and arousal crawling through you as you hid your face back into the brick of the wall, pushing your ass back into his crotch, feeling his cock gently slide through your folds.
“Good girl.” He praised, before thrusting roughly into you, setting a sharp pace, hips clapping into the flesh of your ass, echoing in the empty alleyway.
A hand wound its way up your throat to hold you still as he pulled you backwards, arching your back against him as he thrusted wildly into you, before the other hand snaked down to begin rubbing at your clit again, fingers slipping around it smoothly with your slick.
“Please, please, please.” You whimpered, hips pushing back against him as his lips kissed against your neck, your second release rapidly arriving with every thrust of his hips. 
Aemond grunted against you as he felt you clenching around him, each push and pull of his hips dragging the head of his cock against your sweet spot, before it sent you tumbling over the edge.
The coil snapped and you found yourself moaning loudly into the alley, his hips continuing their brutal pace as he pushed you through your climax, his fingers continuing to rub circles against you, prolonging your release. You felt your slick drip down your thighs, and moaned.
“Yes.” He purred into your neck, before his teeth dug sharply in to your shoulder, his hips stuttering against you, as you felt his warm seed spurting inside.
You sagged against him, letting him hold you up as he continued to thrust into you slower, letting each spurt of cum settle deep inside of you, as some began to leak out of you and down your legs.
“Fuck.” He sighed dreamily, as he pushed himself to his limit inside of you, feeling your cunt twitch around him. 
A dull ache began to settle in your core as you felt Aemond slowly slide himself out of you, feeling his seed and your release drip onto the dirty ground below.
You breathed heavily as you caught your breath, leaning your head against his shoulder as his hands gripped your hips, bruising your tender flesh, before he spun you around to face him.
His hair was messed, and a light layer of sweat had settle upon his forehead. The pupil of his lavender eye was blown out so that you could scarcely see the iris behind it. His gaze trailed down your body to your exposed breasts which heaved with every ragged and exhausted breath you took. A hand came to stroke the underside of one softly, causing goosebumps to erupt across your body.
“My sweet niece,” He cooed, “Such a good whore for me.” You almost keened at his praise as his eye landed upon your lips. 
Your uncle leant forward to press a rough and punishing kiss to your lips, hand curling in your hair at the back of your head, denying you to pull away. You kissed him back lazily as you felt him smirk.
The One-Eyed Prince pulled back watching you intently before he smiled.
“We will be wed on the morrow, and you will carry my seed, and grow heavy with my child.” He looked down, brushing a hand against your stomach.
You blinked as you looked at him.
“If you thought you could escape me, you were sorely mistaken.” He leant in close, lips brushing your ears, “Iksā ñuhon.” He purred.
You are mine.
Tumblr media
I hope you enjoyed that lil request! Thanks so much for sending it through, it was fun to write. :)
2K notes · View notes
ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 months
Note
Climbing in your askhole and myyyy it lovely haha anywhooo just another horny Aemond girl hoping to request a one shot where Aemond is just giving it to his wife from behind…not in her booty hole but just the behind position…. 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤😮‍💨😮‍💨 pretty please and thank you
You got it, love!
Tumblr media
Warnings: Plot? I haven't heard that name in years. Shameless smut. Slightly degrading language. Word count: ~1.2k
Her mind is foggy, somewhere in the purgatory that lies between wakefulness and sleep, as she senses the mattress dip beside her.
She sees that the candle beside the bed has burned almost all the way down as she cracks her eyes open, an indication that she has been asleep for hours. The dim light burning low on the waxy stump is the only source of illumination in the otherwise darkened bedchamber, it is either far too late or far too early, she is unsure of which.
She gasps softly, the thickness of unconsciousness dissipating slightly as she feels the cold hardness of Aemond’s bare chest press against her back through her nightgown. His scent crowds her senses, the smell of smoke, leather and rain clings to his flesh. His hair feels damp, a sign that he has come straight from Vhagar back to their bed, back to her. Warmth spreads through her chest at the thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.
She feels the sharpness of Aemond’s nose press into her hair, inhaling softly. “I know you’re awake, mērītsos,” he whispers, his breath against the shell of her ear causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh. Little one.
“It is late,” she murmurs, “I gave up waiting for you.”
“Forgive me,” he says softly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tighter against him, “the weather was bad, the journey took longer than I expected.”
Aemond has been in Oldtown visiting his younger brother, Daeron, for the past three days. It’s the longest she has gone without seeing her husband since they were wed. He had kissed her fiercely upon his departure from King’s Landing, making her promise that she’d be waiting for him in their bed upon his return.
It was a promise she’d been more than happy to keep, until the hour of his expected arrival back at the Red Keep had passed, and then another, and another. Her eyes had grown heavy and eventually she’d succumbed to her tiredness.
She sighs. “I am just glad to have you home, husband. I will give you a proper welcome in the morning.”
“Hmmmm,” his hand slides down her body giving her hip a gentle squeeze, “and what about now?”
Ignoring the heat that swirls in her lower belly, she keeps her back to him. “Now we sleep. I am tired.”
“Valzȳrya zȳhom ābrazȳrys ozmijes,” Aemond rasps, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss against her neck and rolling his hips against her backside. A husband has missed his wife.
Her breath catches as she feels the hardness of him push against her, naked and filled with want.
“Eman ozmijīnna,” she says back, peering back over her shoulder at him in the darkness. I have missed you.
Aemond’s lips capture hers in a slow and sensual kiss, the feel of him against her days spent apart causing her core to throb.
“Show me,” he commands lowly, when they break apart for air.
He rolls her onto her front, positioning himself behind her, as he pulls her hips up and back towards him.
Her heart races with the anticipation of what he’s about to do, arousal creating wetness between her legs as his deft hands push her shift up to bunch around her waist.
He grasps the plush swell of her bottom, pushing on it softly to reveal the glistening slick of her cunny and she hears a noise of quiet approval rumble in his throat.
“Shall I let you sleep, mērītsos?” He asks, dragging his fingers through her folds, causing her to mewl helplessly. “I could wait until morning to fuck this wet, little cunt, just as you asked.”
“No, Aemond, please…” she whines, earning a dry chuckle from him.
“Joreptan,” he orders quietly, both hands shifting back to her hips to give them a harsh squeeze. “Jorepi ñuhus hyngӯs.” Beg. Beg for my cock.
She whines, arching her back, spreading her arms out, hands reaching beneath the pillows to clutch the sheets. “Please, Aemond, I don’t want to go to sleep. Please!”
“And what is it that you do want?” He asks, teasing the head of his cock against her pearl and back down to her opening.
“I want my husband to fuck me,” she pleads, desperation in her tone.
“Sȳres riñus,” he praises, and with one fluid thrust he is sheathed inside of her to the hilt. Good girl.
She cries out at the sudden stretch, burying her face in the pillow. He is deep within her, almost too deep, and she fights the urge to squirm away from him.
Aemond’s breathing is ragged behind her, his grip on her vice-like as he holds her steady, giving her time to adjust to the intrusion.
She pushes back against him, a silent plea for him to move and that is all it takes for him to lose control. The slap of Aemond’s hips against her bottom echoes around the bedchamber, elevated by his rapid breaths and her wanton cries of pleasure.
Where her husband’s skin was once damp from the rain, it is now sticky with perspiration. His cockhead bullies against her very limit with such force that she feels as though he means to spear her in two. As she glances up, the elongated shadows created by the dying light of the burned down candle make him look like a crazed beast, and she supposes that in this moment he is; driven wild by lust and the need to possess her.
“You thought you would make me wait,” he grits out, pulling her back to meet each snap of his pelvis, “you forget that I know my own wife better than she does. I know what a desperate little whore she is when it comes to her husband’s cock. She just needed to be reminded.”
His words cause her to clench around him as she drools onto the pillow, unable to help the moans that slip from her slackened jaw. Each time he drives his hips forward, he catches a spot inside of her that builds a familiar tension that she is eager to release.
It’s clear that Aemond feels it too, as his hand shifts from her hip to snake around the front of her, between her legs, circling her bud in quick, tight circles as he continues to drive into her.
The tension reaches its boiling point and she collapses forward, her cries of ecstasy muffled by the pillows as she spasms around her husband’s length.
Aemond looms over her prone form, his pace never faltering, fucking her into the mattress as she lays there spent and pliant, until eventually he pushes as far as he can go and stills, pulsating inside of her with a strangled groan as he fills her up.
He doesn’t pull out, softening inside of her, staying nestled within her warmth as he settles beside her on his side, pulling her back against his torso.
The rapid rise and fall of his chest lulls her slowly back to sleep in the afterglow of her pleasure, the faintest of murmurs rustle against her hair.
“Rest well, mērītsos, I will have you all over again when the sun rises.”
1K notes · View notes
loveiwaizumis · 2 months
Text
skater!suna rintarou . . <3
-> purely sfw, NOT proofread -> reader is female and has a younger brother -> younger brother's name will be aki hehe -> highschool setting, third year suna who's a bit bold mwehehe -> more of a conversational kinda thing than an hc kinda thing err.. skater!suna who laid his eyes on dear (y/n) when the poor girl frantically entered the skate park in search of her younger brother skater!suna who took it as a sign from the universe when the little him who had approached him earlier on asking to hang out turned out to be your younger brother. he thought it was cute how you scolded your younger brother for not being home on time. skater!suna who was a bit saddened when you thanked him and took your leave alongside your brother, hiding his disappointment with a short mumble of "no worries, he's a fun student. i wouldn't mind repeating this." skater!suna who had a smile instantly painted on his face as he saw the same cute (h/c) girl enter the skate park alongside a familiar young boy the following week. and just to make matters worse, or better, for suna, you approached him with similar joy written on your face. --- (y/n) "hey there! i hope i'm not a bother but aki was so happy about last time, he wouldn't shut up so here we are again.. er.. do you mind?" the girl mumbled, a bit ashamed to be making requests to a total stranger. a cute one at that! "not a problem at all, this little fella was fun to teach." suna smiled, turning to the little boy. "i'll take care of 'em for ya, miss.....?" (y/n) "l/n y/n! you can call me y/n, but please don't call me miss.. and you are?" she chuckled. "suna rintarou." (y/n) "thanks, suna! i'll be over there if you need me, we have an hour." --- (aki) "i see the way you look at my older sister, you would make a great older brother!" the younger boy remarked towards the older male. "haha, you're funny kid. don't say that around her though, okay?" suna said, patting the kid's back. (aki) "okay fine! but before we end, can you please teach my sister how to skate? pretty please!!" aki practically begged. "not so sure, she'll let me but if you can convince 'er then why not?" suna said shyly, though very subtly. and that's how (y/n) ended up just like this, holding onto his broad shoulders for support, with his large hands enveloping her frame. (y/n) "suna rintarou, you better not let go of me or i'm taking aki and we're never coming back here." "i won't let go if you give me your number after this.." (y/n) "as if i wasn't going to anyway..!" "i've got you, relax pretty."
---- @loveiwaizumis 2024 please do not repost, translate, copy. reblogs and likes appreciated <3 not my proudest work lol
368 notes · View notes
runnning-outof-time · 4 months
Note
happy 3.5 k you 100% deserve it !!!! please could i put forward 33 . "are you jealous" with john shelby tysm have an amazing day
@henrywinterluver Thanks so much for your kind words and also for sending this request in! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it! I hope you like what I did with the prompt you chose! I envisioned this as season 3 Michael…after he started acting cocky haha. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!
Run in with a Cousin
John Shelby x Reader
Tumblr media
Warnings: language
Word Count: 1170
Summary: Michael hits on (Y/N) one night at the Garrison. Michael doesn’t know that (Y/N) is John’s girl. (Y/N) tries to figure out why John reacts the way he does…in the process she learns of a family member she didn’t know John had.
Tumblr media
(Y/N) was waiting for her drink at the Garrison’s counter when she felt someone slide into the empty space beside her. At first she ignored the person, wanting to get her drink and head back to the corner table she’d been occupying while she waited for her partner and his brothers to finish talking business. But the feeling of the man’s eyes lingering on her made her turn to face him just seconds later.
“May I help you?” she asked politely, wondering why he’d been staring at her.
“You might be able to,” the man said with a grin. (Y/N) tried so hard to keep her grimace internal.
“Oh yeah, how so?” she asked, deciding to humor him.
“I just couldn’t help but notice how bloody beautiful you are…and then when I saw that you were sitting here alone. I figured I’d come over and introduce myself,” he answered, inching closer to her as he spoke.
“Well thank you,” she accepted his compliment, still playing nice while making sure to add, “I already have someone though.”
The young man pursed his lips together at the added information before he looked around the room. “I don’t see him anywhere,” he commented on his observstion.
“Oh he’s here,” she assured him.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t still buy you a drink,” the man’s eyes were back on her as his grin returned, “nothin’ illegal with buying a pretty girl a drink…and maybe then we’ll see where that goes.”
A look of surprise flooded (Y/N)’s features as she heard what he had to say. “I think I may be a bit too old for you,” she pointed out. It wasn’t hard to notice that this man looked to be in his early twenties.
“Age is just a number, darlin’.”
(Y/N) didn’t know what to say back to that. So instead she just pursed her lips and nodded.
The young man was about to speak again when she caught a glimpse of her partner over his shoulder. Within seconds, John Shelby had approached them. She could tell by the scowl that had formed that he’d clocked the man she was talking to. (Y/N) tried to withhold her grin…things were about to get interesting.
“Hi, love,” she greeted him in a soft voice as he stopped by her side. He wasted no time in slipping his arm around her shoulders as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“Who’s this?” he asked, nodding his head to the man that was on his right. He still hadn’t looked in his direction yet.
“Just someone I’ve been talking to,” she answered, glancing between the two as she spoke.
“This must be your man that you spoke about,” the man made his observation known.
“It is,” (Y/N) nodded.
Then John looked to his right. “Michael?” he said the name as if there was posion laced into it.
“John?” the man’s response was full of shock. “Fuck,” he breathed then, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“You were out here trying to get with my girl when you were supposed to be in the snug discussing business?” John questioned.
“I wasn’t, I didn’t know, I…we were just talking,” the younger of the two struggled to think of an answer.
“But she had to tell you that she had a man,” John pointed out.
“She’s a pretty girl!” Michael admitted, throwing his arms outward in exasperation.
“We’re leaving,” John said to (Y/N) then, his arm dropping from her shoulders to hook around her waist before he looked back to the man named Michael, “and you’d better think twice before trying any of this shit ever again. Got it?”
Michael nodded in response, clearly looking like a child who had just been scolded. Well that’s what he was though, right? He was basically still a child. That was all John needed though to turn and lead (Y/N) out of the pub.
It wasn’t until they made it to her home that someone spoke again. “I can’t fucking believe that happened,” John grumbled as he swiped his peaked cap from atop his head so that he could throw it down onto one of the chairs in the living room.
(Y/N) spun to look at him, immediately noticing that his deep scowl was still very much present. “We were just talking, John,” she told him, trying to get him to lighten up.
“Yeah, but he was talking with the intent of picking you up.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Because I came out and put an end to it.”
“You don’t think I would have put an end to it myself?” (Y/N) inquired, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m sure you would have, but that’s not…” he trailed off with a huff, running a hand down his face before he waved it out in the air, “that’s not the point, (Y/N). I just can’t fucking believe he tried that.”
(Y/N) studied her partner’s mannerisms for a few moments, wondering why this measly conversation had got him so worked up. Then it clicked. “Are you jealous?” she just had to ask him.
John’s eyes immediately snapped to her. “What?” he just had to ask, wanting to make sure he even heard her right.
“Are you jealous of me talking to him?” she repeated her previous question. “Because that’s all we were doing. Talking.”
“Fuck no, I’m not jealous of him!” John exclaimed in an incredulous manner, “why would I be jealous of my little shit of a cousin who’s got absolutely no chance with you?”
“He’s your cousin?” (Y/N) asked with wide eyes, completely shocked by this new information.
“Yes, he’s my cousin,” John answered with a nod.
“How?” the word left (Y/N)’s lips before she could think of anything else to string with it, “I mean I know how, but like…through who?”
“My aunt Pol. He’s her son.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It would have made things much easier if you did.”
“Well if you would have told me…” (Y/N) trailed off, her eyebrows raising again.
“It never came up!” John defended himself, “and besides, I’m not the problem here, he is.”
“It’s not even a problem though, John,” she sighed in response, wishing he’d let the minuscule issue go.
“I’m gonna tell Pol about it…then it won’t be a problem anymore,” he decided how he was going to remedy the situation.
“That might make it more into a problem,” she couldn’t help but giggle slightly as she thought of her partner, who was very much an adult, going to his aunt to tell on her son - who was also very much an adult.
“It’s what he deserves,” he stayed steadfast with his idea, nodding once after he spoke, as if he was agreeing with himself.
“Whatever you think, John,” (Y/N) appeased him, deciding to let the matter rest…although she knew that this wasn’t the last time she’d hear about this situation.
Tumblr media
**tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out
MASTERLIST
349 notes · View notes
rhey-007 · 4 months
Text
Viva Las Vegas!
Fernando Alonso x driver!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... But not this time.
Warnings/Tags: female reader, mentions of hate comments, mentions of racist comments (literally just a mention nothing specific), fluff... I guess that's it : P
A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED SOMETHING JXVSHHEHRHBRBT I'm so happy haha
So this fic is based on this ↓ request. I hope I lived up to your expectations TwT I honestly think it's a cute little fic and I love the inserts :3
Wordcount: 2925
*:..。o○✨○o。..:*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You sighed in relief finally leaving the F1 studio after you finished filming Grill the Grid for Las Vegas. You loved doing those, it was a lot of fun but the filming was always the last part of your job for some days and after so many activities before, you were sometimes too tired to think of any answers.
Unfortunately for you, Lando and Carlos approached you the second you left the building, huge smiles plastered on their faces.
“Hi Y/N! How was filming? “
The younger one asked enthusiastically at which you just shook your head.
“What do you need? Cause I’m sure you do need something... “
“Well... We're going to a party to start off this amazing weekend and we were thinking that you might want to join us”
The Spaniard explain making you sigh. They could see you were tired but you never said no to them so they tried their best to convince you.
You could use some party and alcohol after the previous weekend when you crashed your car on almost the very beginning of the race, causing you to be upset and quite nervous ever since.
“Lewis will be there too. Literally everyone will be there! Even Fernando! “
Ah yes... The Fernando card. The forbidden card the boys knew would get you worked up to whatever they wanted.
“Fine... But you have to pick me up! “
You huffed agreeing reluctantly then walked away to get ready. You were going to some club so you decided to put on a thigh length, sparkly lavender dress, some black heels and golden jewelry with some soft makeup.
Lando and Carlos whistled at you as you approached their car and immediately said after you got in.
“Ooooh Fernando’s gonna loooove that~”
Rolling your eyes at their comment you kicked Carlos’ seat so he would finally drive away.
The party was full of Formula workers and drivers, the boys were right, everyone was there. It was hosted in one of Vegas' clubs, one you had no idea about but were glad you decided to join and discovered that magical place.
Carlos and Lando left you just after you walked in so you sat alone by the bar, waiting for Lewis to notice and join you but he was too occupied by the girls.
You sighed heavily ordering a drink and almost spilled it when you felt a hand on your back. You turned around to see those beautiful hazel eyes shining in the colorful lights and a huge grin you oh so loved.
“Hi gorgeous~”
Fernando said sitting down beside you, his hand not leaving your back radiating pleasant warmth.
“Well hello there Mr Alonso~”
You smiled widely at the older man as he checked you out. The light purple dress matched your dark skin perfectly driving the man crazy.
“The guy you dressed so beautifully for is really lucky”
“Oh there is no guy. Unless you want to be him~”
You teased sipping your drink, making a soft, barely visible in the lights blush appear on his face. Fernando noticed you started to get bolder and bolder with your flirting which made you even more attractive in his eyes. He loved confident women.
“I would be honored. May I have this dance then? “
Quickly finishing your drink you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor where you had a great time the whole night. You felt eyes on yourself the whole time, knowing damn well no one will let you forget about this till the end of your life. But you couldn’t care less, just indulged in the moment.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The next day you arrived to the Vegas circuit for the grand opening a little hangover with your grid bestie Lewis.
The two of you drove through the paddock on his electric scooter, one earphone in each ear’s listening to Eminem, with Lewis’ chin on your shoulder. You looked like a couple and to some acted like but in fact you considered each others siblings.
Lewis was not only your teammate but also the only person you felt comfortable talking about the racist hate comments you received, as he understood you the best. Being a black woman in an European men dominated sport was not easy. You got a lot of backlash and negative opinions from some fans, coworkers and FIA staff despite being one of the best drivers on the grid.
The only group that fully accepted you were your fellow drivers. They saw you as a precious gem, a little sister they had to defend at all cost, even though you weren’t the youngest.
The one individual that thought otherwise was the oldest one – Fernando Alonso. He didn’t see you as a little girl but as a woman, a very beautiful and gorgeous woman, the object of his desires, that's why he spent the whole previous night by your side, unable to deglue - a thing the whole paddock knew.
So when he noticed you and Lewis pass by his blood boiled. The man knew Lewis was nothing more than a brother to you but couldn’t help the jealousy accumulate inside of himself whenever he saw the two of you together.
“Fernando saw us”
Lewis murmured at which you just shrugged.
“I don’t like how he's looking at you... “
You rolled your eyes with a sigh. After having this conversation with Lewis so many times you already had enough. The man didn’t approve on your behavior relative to each other. He deemed the Spaniard was too old for you, considering your 12 years age gap.
Lewis just wanted the best for you, the best for his little sister and he knew you could do so much better than Fernando. He even arranged you multiple dates with guys he thought would be perfect for you, but you always dismissed them all sometimes not even showing up to the date to Hamilton’s displeasure.
You knew he just wanted good but you found it annoying and unnecessary.
“You’re exaggerating, as always... If you don’t like it so much you should’ve looked after me yesterday and not pick up chicks... “
You remarked before hopping off the scooter and walking in to the Mercedes garage.
Fernando clearly flirted with you whenever he had a chance, so you weren’t surprised seeing him beside your platform along with someone from media filming the whole thing, blowing you a sweet kiss and sending a wink just before you and Lewis were launched for your presentation.
Hamilton shook his head disappointed hearing your giggle. He was opposed to your little ‘relationship’ or whatever you could call it but you couldn’t care less.
Fernando was a really handsome man and your age gap wasn’t something you worried about. The thing that actually worried you was his flirting. As much as you enjoyed it, the man was flirting with literally everybody earning him a status of a womanizer, which drove you crazy.
You wished you were the only one he flirted with. Little did you know that with you he meant it, he really meant it.
By the time the elevator lowered you down the Spaniard was gone. You figured he must have gone to do the interviews, to which you were escorted just after stepping out of the lift.
Later that evening you were sitting in the recording room you rented and recorded your podcast where you talked about working as an F1 driver and answered your fans’ questions. Most of the questions were about your work, some about the relationships with other drivers while some were just mean comments.
When something like that happened you usually just hung up with that person mid their sentence and answered another call as if nothing. You tried not to worry much about hate comments but had to admit that some really got into your brain and heart.
After 3 tiring hours you were almost by the end when someone asked you a very interesting question.
“Well... I was wondering... What do you think about Fernando flirting with you?”
You chuckled softly remembering all the times Nando flirted with you, how your cheeks flushed and the world seemed to stop leaving only the two of you in motion. You wouldn’t admit you loved it, but you truly did, sometimes even fantasized about it.
“You know... It’s not like he’s only flirting with me. I saw him flirt with Lance... Mark... I’m sure you saw those clips too. Fernando’s just a flirtatious guy”
“But what if it’s genuine?”
But what if it’s actually genuine?... You could only wish it was... He'd been doing this for a very long time, yet he never actually invited you on a date, that’s why you doubted it.
“If it was, he would’ve asked me out a long time ago. Unless he’s shy and tries to do it right now through you!”
You joked before thanking the girl and moving on to another person. Good thing it was the last one, because after the previous call the only thing you wanted to do was to drown yourself in your foolish fantasies.
“Last but not least – anonymous. Bring it up!”
“Would you be mad if Fernando actually tried to ask you out through somebody?...”
That voice... You could recognize it everywhere as it lingered behind Fernando almost always. Lance’s scared voice sounded in your earphones making you laugh. You never though Nando was actually too shy to ask you to a date himself, considering his shameless flirting and a status of a womanizer.
“Yes! Is he there with you?��
Silence fell on the other side before quiet bickering could be heard, then Alonso’s voice filled your ears.
“Hi...”
“Hi stranger. Is there something you would like to ask me?”
You smiled widely awaiting his response, legs jumping like crazy from excitement, teeth biting hardly into the bottom lip as the seconds felt like hours.
“Well... Uh... C-can you turn around?”
Frowning you did as he asked, turning in your chair to meet his silhouette waiting outside your glass office with a huge bouquet of field flowers – your favourite. You felt your heart melt at the thought that he remembered such little details about you. You gasped seeing him, that beautiful smile graced his face as he watched you turn back around.
“Couldn’t you just play along!? It could have been so romantic!”
He whined making you shake your head in amusement. You could not believe... The man always made you happy with just him being but this time you felt like on cloud 9.
“So?... What do you say?”
You sighed heavily thanking your audience before quickly dropping everything off and leaving the office.
“Do I have a choice?”
Asking playfully you grabbed Fernando’s arm and greeted his wingman.
“So where are we going?”
Lance dropped you off at one of the most expensive restaurants in Las Vegas, even though you told Fernando some beer and fries in a random bar was enough when he told you where you were going.
You were a little skimpy, coming from not so rich family and always felt chest pain when buying expensive things or when someone bought you something.
Alonso knew it well but he wanted to give you the whole world so since that date he had been showering you with presents, not letting you complain about the price nor giving them away.
“Fernando?...”
“Yes?”
“Please be honest... Why did it took you so long to ask me out?...”
You asked after you ordered your food. That question occupied your mind since you started to flirt with each other. You thought that if that womanizer actually liked you, he would’ve asked you on a date a long time ago, which slowly made you lose faith in the chemistry between you two. The man sighed heavily gathering his thoughts before he responded.
“Well... I have to admit I was scared... I have a big, toe curling crush on you since we’ve met but I guess I was just scared that such a beautiful, smart and young woman won’t take a liking in an old man like me... Even though you were flirting back I just wasn’t sure... “
He confessed. You smiled reassuringly and captured his hands in yours.
“Oh Fernie... You could’ve tried... The worst that could happen would be me rejecting you but I could never... You’re too handsome and wise for me not to fall for you. And don’t you ever again dare call yourself old. Because you’re not. I don’t mind your age and neither should you worry about our age gap. It’s not that big after all...”
“12 years is not a lot?”
Fernando asked with a chuckle earning one back. The man loved hearing and seeing you laugh, especially when he caused it.
“It’s not! I know worse cases!”
You laughed along the man. You’ve spent the night enjoying each other’s company, hoping the day would never end.
You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast. You slept in his hotel room, in his bed but nothing happened between you two. Fernando loved you too much to rush anything sexual, prefering to just shower you in sweet kisses and goodnight hugs.
“Buenos días princesa~”(good morning princess)
The man soon walked in, a wooden tray full of food and two mugs of dark liquid in his hands. He sat down beside you and waited for you to sit up before he placed the tray in front of you.
“I’ve made you some breakfast. Your favourite. Chocolate pancakes with strawberries and bananas and caramel latte macchiato... Which I had to order from Starbucks downstairs as I am unable to use the coffee machine. Too complicated for my old mind”
You smiled happily and placed a sweet kiss to his lips before taking a sip of your coffee.
“Mmm... Thank you... You know me so well”
“Of course I do. I’m your one and only after all”
The man grinned before settling down beside you and joining you in eating. The morning passed by too quickly and soon you drove with Fernando to the paddock. Fortunately no paparazzi noticed you yet.
For the rest of your stay in Vegas, Alonso took you on dates, always to a different place thinking of different activities every time. You felt like he was what was missing in your life as you always felt a part of you lost until that evening.
The media quickly caught on to your romance, writing an article after an article about your relationship. The whole grid started to call you an old married couple the moment they found out, being very happy for you two just as the whole F1 community.
The only one who was still opposed to it was Lewis, but with time Fernando has managed to convince him he wasn’t so bad and treated you right.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Soon the 2023 season finished, that meant that in some time the F1 social media team was going to organise a Secret Santa gift exchange.
You wondered who’d you get, secretly hoping for Lewis, it would’ve been the easiest task ever as you knew well what he craved.
Unfortunately you drew Yuki and decided to buy him some food and sweets as it was the safest gift you were sure he’d like.
You weren’t the only one who drew someone other than they wished to. Fernando drew Esteban but wanted to get you, so he started to run around the paddock asking every driver if they got you.
Eventually he traded with Kevin who was more than happy to take Esteban, he just couldn’t think of a gift for you, whereas Fernando had his gift bought for you way earlier which waited in his apartment for the exchange.
When the day came, the social media staff caught you after an interview and you started to film your bit, which was the last one.
You sat down by the table and greeted the fans before taking the present the interviewer gave you. You smiled the whole time as you unwrapped the paper, a small black box emerging from it.
Opening it you revealed a beautiful gold ring with a shining amethyst in the midle. Looking confused at the ring you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder.
You turned around rapidly to see Fernando on his one knee in front of you, a soft smile plastered on his face as he looked deep into your eyes.
Tears started to fill yours when you finally understood what was going on, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips.
Some might thing it was too early as you only dated for a month but it felt like you've been together for those 2 years of flirting. Besides, Fernando felt like you were the one. No. He knew you were the one and you knew he was the only one for you too.
You shook your head not believing and hid your face in your hands.
“Fernando. Alonso. Diaz... You’re impossible”
You said soon, pulling your hands away from your face and smiling widely at the man.
“Is that a yes?”
You didn’t say anything instead quickly putting the ring on and throwing yourself at the man, you both falling to the ground with happy giggles and applause from the people surrounding you.
Grabbing his cheeks you kissed him passionately, not caring even a little about the cameras filming you, you wanted this moment captured and the whole world to see it.
It was the best month in your whole life...
*:..。o○✨○o。..:*
I hope you liked it! Let me know if you have any ideas for future fics! 💞
260 notes · View notes
viktorxsheep · 10 months
Note
HI! i apologize for any mistakes, i dont send requests to often :,)
I was wondering if you could do the Star Rail boys and Fem! Reader with a pucca dynamic? Like she's over here tracking them down just to give them kisses and stuff, and gets jealous pretty easily. If all of them are too much just Blade and/dan heng! :))
Tumblr media
hi!! thanks for the request! i loved this show so much when i was younger haha. thankyou for allowing me to indulge in my dan heng and welt yang love teehee. (no mistakes by the way!! :>>)
dan heng, welt yang, blade, jing yuan, gepard x fem! reader
___
dan heng
Dan Heng liked his peace. He liked his days in his room, looking through the archives as he sorted through every single data that he had jotted down in his notebook.
Ofcourse, he also knew to always expect you. Disrupting the perfect peace that he made for himself. He always acted annoyed and a little bit grumpy whenever you bursted through his doors, but he genuinely did like it. He loved your kisses, he could drown in them and he would reincarnate just so he could open his arms and allow you to ram into them.
As your relationship grew, he started getting a bit more flustered at your strong declarations of love. Your jealousy, your passion- he’s never experienced a love this strong and this good. All he wants to do now is to return it tenfold…r he’s still a little bit shy.
So when he can finally rest beside you, you sleeping in his arms, he can kiss your forehead as he hums a soft tune from his past. He didn’t expect that he’d love you this much, but now he even gets a little grumpy if you don’t kiss him all over the face in the morning, or go and tightly hug him. He still has nightmares..but now, he can atleast envision your body dashing to his to kiss him when he wakes up instead of the fear and the hurt.
blade
Blade was a little different from Dan Heng. Where Dan Heng was shy and a little bit unsure on how to repay your affections, Blade embraced this wholeheartedly. He relished in the affection, it made him happy.
But a small pet of him wondered if this was alright, if he even deserved this. From all of his past actions, the mistakes he would most definitely make in the future- did he deserve you running to him and toppling him over for kisses? He doesn’t want to dwell, instead, he hopes you let him love you the same way.
If ever you are jealous, he will sit you on his lap (albeit a little awkwardly at first) and he will comfort your insecurities. Are his comforting words not exactly very comforting? sure, but he tries. “You must be sick if you believe I do not love you, don’t be silly.”
Although he really hopes you would stop trying to chase after him during missions for affection, you could get hurt and it’s a bit annoying being teased by Kafka (well, he’d go through it if it’s you at the very least).
welt yang
He is such an old man. Stop giving him heart attacks as you go and kiss him every morning! atleast let him brush his teeth, but he has a feeling you don’t really mind that much. Welt always wakes up earlier than you do, smiling as he watches you excitedly open your eyes to meet his loving embrace.
You may be overexcited and very in love, but Welt can almost beat you in one thing…being the greatest male wife house husband figure you could think of. For every gift, kiss you shower him with, hugs- he surprises you with homemade cooking, clothes that he patched up, flowers and chocolates (that he made himself).
Whenever you get jealous, he can’t help but stifle a small laugh. You were so cute- though he really does not want you to feel insecure. When he knows you’re getting jealous (because he can read you like an open book) he calmly sets you aside and kisses your forehead, assuring you that his love and his heart lies only with you. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, so tell him if ever you feel insecure or jealous, he will always listen.
jing yuan
The fearsome leader of the cloud knights believed he was prepared for any sort of challenge. Some fearsome and formidable foes? no matter, stellaron hunters? he will ensure the safety of everyone he can. But who knew he would be so soft and fall victim to-
you. Wonderful, amazing, beautiful you. You in all of your glory, your soft kisses and excited smiles. He could sleep all day just to see you in his dreams, but he loves you even better in real life. He will get flustered (and never show it), and he will always feel bad when he’s forced to ask you to wait outside a meeting room due to the confidential information being shared.
He will ease your worries, he will hold your hand. He wants you to be as safe and as happy as possible, so how could he not indulge you? whatever kisses you’d like the give him, you may. While he can’t always let you bulldoze over to him just to kiss, he will always make it up to you after the moment you two get home.
gepard
You wanted to kill him.
He was sure.
Fearsome, strong, loyal knight captain. That was who he was and how his reputation was…atleast until his underlings saw the red hot blush on his face as you somehow got through the silver mane guards just to kiss and hug him. While he always scolds you (always with a small stutter due to the shock and flusteredness) to not follow him while he went away, he always held you in his arms and let you do as you pleased.
He would walk you back to the safer areas in the administrative district of Belobog, letting you get your fill in of as much hugs and kisses you want before he’s forced to rip himself and his tomato red face away from you.
You being jealous was the most shocking for him. You’re jealous? why? he may be a knight captain, but you were infinitely more beautiful and amazing and- if this line were to continue on, it would fill pages and pages of writing. An entire novel dedicated to every affection you’d offer and how he would call you.
402 notes · View notes
festivalsofmargot · 11 months
Text
Blood Sport {Garreth Weasley x Fem!Reader}
Tumblr media
Got this pic of Garreth from Rimaeternax on twitter!!!
AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are in their 7th year and are 18+)
Introduction: Garreth had begged you not to put your name in The Goblet of Fire. The TriWizard Tournament was known for being so dangerous, it was practically a death sentence to every school Champion chosen. You promised him you wouldn’t, but when you found out your best friend Natty had entered her name, you decided to go against his wishes and enter behind his back. Being as capable as you were and the only person in ages able to wield ancient magic, of course your name was chosen. Along with an overwhelming sense of dread that you could die, Garreth felt betrayal, and has kept his distance from you ever since.
Word Count: ~ 9,900 (I’m gonna be honest, I dunno how it happened)
Warnings: Heavy Drinking, Swearing, Angst, Smut (Sex, Edging, Oral)
Author’s Note: I made this so it could be a standalone, but in case you’d like extra background, this is a continuation of Garreth’s portion in The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion. I couldn’t get his part out of my head and I had to write out the rest of his story. Freckled Serotonin could be a prequel too haha, a fic that takes place during a time where the relationship is only happiness and fluff. Maaaan, I have been obsessing and losing sleep over this fic all week and I’m so happy I finally finished! It’s my longest one yet, so get cozy and grab a snack 🥰 Hope you guys have a great night ❤ 
Songs (if interested):
Blood Sport - Sleep Token (Original Version & Room Below Version)
for forever - EKKSTACY
You Can’t Stop Me - Alex G
you not the same - TileKid
The Love You Want - Sleep Token
Lights Are On - Tom Rosenthal
-
It had been weeks now since you and Garreth last spoke. You knew he needed time and space to forgive you, but your second challenge was coming up soon, and now more than ever you wanted him by your side again. 
The Durmstrang Champion, Maxim Mainka, had caught a few hints at what it could be, and things weren’t looking good if his suspicions were correct. He had been so concerned he wanted to prepare with you and the Beauxbatons Champion, Amelie DuPont. Was there anything more unsettling than something that could put a Durmstrang student on edge?
Possibly facing a challenge you couldn’t overcome within the next week had weighed on you more and more as it approached. So when Professor Weasley announced that the fourth years and up were to meet for dance practice for the upcoming Yule Ball, you were over the moon. You’d take anything that could help take your mind off it all. 
You grinned a bit seeing all the younger years get uneasy at Professor Weasley explaining the proper dance that was required of everyone if they wanted to attend. The seventh years were the only ones who seemed to be at ease with the whole thing, probably because it wouldn’t be the first time touching someone so intimately for most of you. Whereas the younger years had never even held hands with someone and it was written all over their faces.
“Garreth, come up and help me demonstrate please.” 
Your smile faltered a bit watching Garreth walk up. He received some whistles and hollers as he strode up to his aunt proudly, chest puffed like he was about to own this demonstration dance. You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips, of course you still found him as hilarious as ever, despite your current situation.
He blew an exaggerated kiss to the audience and you cackled along with the other students. He then joined his aunt for the dance, keeping the smug look on his face as she talked through the steps for everyone. At one point, he surprised her with a dip, causing everyone to howl with laughter and she smacked him lightly. He said a quick apology and brought her back up.
“That’ll do. Thank you, Garreth.” He stepped back from his aunt and gave a dramatic bow, bringing another round of chuckles from everyone as you all clapped for him.
“Alright, now everyone find a partner and we’ll go through the steps together.”
Most of the students went quiet and still, not wanting to make the first move. The only ones who got up to move were the ones in relationships, heading to join their significant others for practice. You looked down to the ground, suddenly feeling like an unconfident fourth year yourself.
Garreth caught sight of you amongst the crowd. He had been wanting to go up and speak to you these last few days, but he couldn't get himself to do it. There never seemed to be a good time, he started to doubt there ever would be. 
He straightened his tie, more out of bustling nerves than anything, and strode up to you. He held out his hand for you to take and you slowly looked up at him, clearly taken aback. 
He looked down at you with a smirk, hoping you didn’t see through his feigned confidence. “What do you say, oh mighty Champion of Hogwarts?”
You swallowed thickly, your body wasn’t handling Garreth speaking to you again as well as you had hoped, but you’d take this moment regardless. You tentatively took his hand and he tugged you up with ease. He kept your hand in his as he led you to the floor, then effortlessly pulled you into the dance, his hold on you firm and warm. 
“You have horrible taste in dance partners, Weasley.” You tried to jest to hide how anxious you were. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked down at your feet to make sure you didn’t step on his. It was a bit much, not speaking for as long as you had and now you were in his arms like this.
“Just follow the expert, you’ll be fine.” He pulled you even closer to him, getting you to finally look up at his face. His eyes bored into yours, and it wiped your mind clean of any coherent thought you had. You wanted to look back down to your feet but he had pulled you too close to be able to do so, so you settled for looking at your hand on his shoulder. 
“I uh - I thought I’d take this chance to speak with you.” It was Garreth’s turn to feel uneasy.
Well… that doesn’t sound good. “Alright.”
He looked away from you, his jaw tensing, bracing himself for what he was going to say next. Your stomach dropped seeing his face turn so dismayed when he was being goofy and having fun only a moment ago. 
“I don’t know how best to put this, so I’m just going to say it. I think we should just be friends.” He could feel you stiffen and he pulled you in closer, your stance turning more into an embrace. He placed his cheek against yours, your swaying becoming only small steps from side to side. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I really do hope we can be friends, I’ll do anything to make that happen. Anything. But, I can’t be yours anymore. I just… I can’t. It hurts too much.”
Your eyes stung with tears, and you hated that one had managed to fall. But you were able to remain standing tall. Unable to speak with your throat feeling so constricted, you settled for a brief nod of your head, letting him know you heard him.
“Whatever you need, it's yours. I’ll help you through the rest of the tournament any way I can, just say the word.”
Quickly wiping away your stray tear before he could see it, you cleared your throat. You shifted in your stance so he could back off of you a bit. “Let’s stick with dance lessons, yeah?”
You looked over his shoulder, focusing on nothing in particular while he eyed you a moment longer. He then nodded his head, looking over your shoulder at nothing in particular himself. “Yeah… Yeah, alright then.”
-
That night you had decided to go to The Hog’s Head. You would go to Three Broomsticks, but you didn’t want to chance bumping into Garreth. You wanted to avoid him like the plague. 
Walking in, you saw Maxim Mainka. He was sitting at the bar, drinking and cheerily speaking with those around him. He noticed you walk in and lit up like you were just the person he wanted to see. 
“Fellow Champion! Come! Come join me!” 
You smiled and joined his side at the bar. 
“One for my friend, on me!” He called to the bartender.
You gladly took the pint placed in front of you and began on a steady stream of gulps.
“That’s the way!” He cheered, patting you on the back and clearly feeling a good buzz in his cheeks. He held up his drink to you and you clinked it with yours. “Let’s enjoy our last few days alive, my friend!”
You stilled and thought on his words for a moment. You knew Maxim had been feeling edgy about the upcoming challenge, but you didn’t think he’d be this convinced none of the champions would make it out alive. 
You started to go a bit numb. The love of your life had asked you to ‘just be friends’ and you might very well die in a few days… 
What better time to drink myself silly? 
You raised your pint, “Here’s to that.” Then you brought it back to your lips for more.
-
Garreth sat at the bar of The Three Broomsticks, barely able to touch his drink; he was so sick to his stomach. He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, unable to follow the chatter of his friends next to him.
He knew ending things with you would be one of the stupidest things he had ever done, but he had to. What choice did he have? He couldn’t keep you wondering and waiting on him to forgive you when you had more important things to focus on. 
His feelings were all over the place. He still loved you deeply, but he was also still upset. He didn’t think you’d ever truly know how full of dread you made him when you threw yourself into danger as constantly as you did. 
He thought if he gave you a clear stance on where the two of you were in the meantime, it’d be better for you, give you the chance to prepare for your challenges with a clear head. But asking to just be friends had gone horribly, bringing the exact opposite effect he wanted, making things even worse on you. 
“I think I’m gonna turn in, mate. Not feeling it tonight.” Garreth got up from his seat and patted Leander on the back as he passed. He moseyed out of The Three Broomsticks with his hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt at his feet as he made his way out of Hogsmeade.
The sound of cheering coming from The Hog’s Head caught his attention. He peeked over curiously and had to do a double take. That bar was never bustling, yet there was a huge crowd around it tonight, boisterous about something going on inside.
He was caught off guard when you and Maxim clambered out of the crowd and fell to the ground, laughing hysterically and definitely drunk. The crowd cheered in intoxicated delight at your collapse.
Garreth made his way over as Maxim helped you up. When he saw him throw you over his shoulder, his blood boiled and he picked up his pace.
“This one’s pissed! She’s done for the night!” Maxim called back to the crowd as he carried you away from The Hog’s Head with ease. The crowd whined in unison at your departure.
Garreth strode up to him. “Put her down. I can take her from here.” 
As Garreth approached, Maxim side stepped him and kept walking. 
“Oi, Knobhead! I said put her down!”
Maxim gave your side a quick pat. “You know this one?”
You peeked up. “Ah! It’s alright, I know him. He can take me.” You giggled, and Garreth wanted you down from Maxim’s shoulder yesterday.
With a grunt, he set you down. “If you trust him. I could go for a few more rounds anyway.” He took your hand and kissed it. “Goodnight. Meet with me again tomorrow?” He went in to kiss your hand again while he waited for your answer.
“Appreciate it, mate. Goodnight.” Garreth came up behind you, gripping your shoulders and moving you along before his lips could make it to your hand again. 
You waved over your shoulder lazily. “Goodnight to you too, Maxim.”
When Garreth felt you two were far enough away, he released your shoulders and walked by your side.
You let out a content sigh and looked up at the stars above as you walked. 
“Seems you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Garreth grumbled.
“I sure did.”
Garreth’s jaw tensed at the thought of you having been with Maxim all night. “Couldn’t even give it a full day, huh?”
You let out an exhale, your drunkenness making it sound a little more exaggerated. You glanced over at him. He was facing ahead stiffly, hands in his pockets. “And what do you mean by that?”
He shrugged, putting on a face like he couldn’t be bothered what you did anymore. “Nothing.”
“I can’t enjoy myself if we’re not together? Is that it?”
“I didn’t say that. Enjoy yourself all you want.”
“I planned on it.”
“Good. Glad you had such a great night.” He wasn’t glad.
“I did have a great night.” You decided to get cheeky. “And I’m so happy my good friend, Garreth Weasley, was here to walk me back to the dorms. What a guy.” 
He sighed your name, starting to regret he didn’t keep his mouth shut.
You hiccuped and rubbed at your eyes. You were starting to feel a little sick and groaned. “I think I had a few too many. I just didn’t want to stop. Oh, have you heard? Apparently, it’s going to be suicide walking into the arena this week. No one at Hog’s Head would shut up about it.” You mumbled. “What a way to go, huh?”
Garreth stopped in his tracks and looked at you in horror. “What… What did you just say?” He didn’t recognize who he was talking to right then. You sounded like you were accepting death. You knew this tournament was dangerous, but you’d at least always been determined to fight.
You ignored him and kept walking, humming the Hogwarts anthem and keeping your air of drunken bliss.
Garreth called your name sternly for you to stop walking and look at him. 
He rarely spoke with such a tone, and it seemed to bring you back to reality a bit. Your face hardened when you glanced back at him. “Don’t even start.” You said bitterly as you kept walking.
He raised his brows, incredulous at your behavior tonight, and moved to join your side. “Sorry? Say that again. Start what exactly?” 
You stopped and faced each other. “Why should I listen to anything you have to say when you abandoned me? You left me when I -” You shoved him, “- When I needed you the most.”
“I left you, did I? I could have sworn you were the one that chose a worthless fucking tournament over me but what do I know? I’m just an idiot who wanks over potions.”
An amused huff escaped you and you rubbed at your face, drunk and desperately trying not to crack up. “Dammit, Garreth.” You groaned. “Don’t make me laugh, I'm mad at you.” 
He shook his head and bit back a smirk of his own. He really did need to work on his timing. The two of you were definitely having the worst fight you’ve had since knowing each other, he needed to take it seriously.
He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand down his face. “How about we not be mad at each other tonight?” He said, waving his white flag. With alcohol in both of your systems - more so yours than his but still - putting this conversation to the side for now seemed like the smartest idea. “Let’s save it for tomorrow.”
“That’s -” You lost your balance slightly and he steadied you. “That’s a good idea.”
-
As Garreth stepped into the dining hall the next morning, his eyes roamed the room for you. When he spotted you, it didn’t take long for your eyes to drift up and lock with his. He gestured with his chin for you to step outside and speak with him. You nodded your head, getting up and walking over. 
Out of habit when he got this close to you, he gingerly grabbed a hold of your arm. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I’m fine. Head’s killing me, but I’m fine.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile.
He gave you a weak smile in return, not quite buying it. “To be honest, you scared me. You sounded like you’d given up last night.”
You shook your head. “I wasn’t in my right mind, and I hate that you had to be there for any of it. You shouldn’t have had to hear anything I said in that state.”
He gave your arm a gentle squeeze to help put you at ease like he usually would. But it made him remember that you weren’t together anymore, and he shouldn’t be doing things like that.
When he released you, you glanced down briefly, not even aware he had had a hold on you. Now, it seemed you two had to get used to not touching each other, that was what felt less natural.
“I meant it when I said I still want to be there for you. Whatever you need, it’s yours.” Garreth looked into your eyes, trying to convey how much he meant it.
You nodded your head, deciding to let him help. If this next challenge was as dangerous as Maxim said it was going to be, you needed all the help you could get. “I need potions. All that you can make me.”
-
Garreth was crumbling as he paced back and forth in front of the hospital wing. “Let me in, I need to see her. Please, you don’t understand.” His breathing was uneven, his voice cracking. The latest challenge was the most horrific thing he had ever seen. 
The Beauxbatons Champion had been killed, torn to pieces by the horde of inferi you were tasked to fight. You and Maxim had barely made it through. The both of you had to be carried out of the arena, and Garreth needed to see with his own eyes that you were actually alive.
Nurse Blainey tried to steady him. “I do understand. But she’s resting, you need to leave her be for now.”
Leander had tried easing him away. “Come on, Garreth. She’s in good hands now, we can come back later.”
Garreth shoved him back. “Goddammit, get off me!” He turned back to Nurse Blainey with a fire in his eyes. “I’m not waiting for your permission any more.” He shoved past her into the hospital wing.
He scanned the room for you, walking past Maxim who was rocking back and forth while nurses tended to his wounds. He mumbled something in his native tongue to himself over and over. 
Garreth froze and his stomach dropped sickeningly when he spotted your bloodied and bruised form. As the nurses tended to your wounds, his mind raced, trying to reassure himself repeatedly that he could see you breathing, you were only sleeping, you were still alive.
Leander placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, mate.”
Garreth nodded his head rigidly and turned away from you. He apologized to Nurse Blainey and Leander guided him out.
When they returned to the Gryffindor common room, Garreth made a beeline to his dorm. Shutting the door behind him, he went and slumped down on the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Then, all at once, the tears came. He shot a hand up to cover his eyes and his shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs.
-
Garreth returned with Leander later that night. Leander went into the hospital wing first to check if it was okay for him to see you. He didn’t think he’d be able to walk past you and just leave if he was told ‘no’.
Leander came back out with a small smile. “You can see her. But Nurse Blainey said she’s on quite a lot of painkillers. Go easy on her tonight.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry again for earlier.” 
Leander waved him off and turned to leave. “See you later.”
Garreth made his way in towards your bed. He noticed Maxim was out like a rock, and was relieved for the poor man.
“Uh oh, I don’t think I did my herbology homework. I’ll need to get on that soon.” Garreth heard you say and could immediately tell how well the painkillers were working on you.
“No need to worry about it right now, dear.” Nurse Blainey chuckled as she looked over her checklist. She glanced up at Garreth as he approached. “If she wants to sleep, let her. Don’t keep her up.”
Garreth gave her a firm nod, then looked at you and noticed how out of it you really were. You were sitting up in bed and looking up at the ceiling whimsically. He was thankful you didn’t seem to be feeling all the stitched up gashes and harsh bruising on you.
Your eyes eventually landed on him and your face lit up. “There’s my boy.”
Garreth’s chest went fluttery. It had felt like ages since you had called him your anything. Merlin, I’ve missed that.
“Where have you been? I wanted to tell you I beat Leander at Summoner’s Court today. Or… wait… was that yesterday?”
Garreth let out an amused breath through his nose and went to sit in the chair at your bedside. “No, you were right. That was today.” He took your hand in his. No harm in being back with you like this for only a night, right? Especially if you were this out of it, it didn't seem like you’d remember any of it anyway. “And I believe it. Leander’s bloody terrible at Summoner’s Court. Has been since first year, the moron.”
You giggled and brought both of your hands over his, bringing it up to your lips. Garreth’s insides turned to putty. Still weak as ever for you, I see.
“How are your hands always so warm?” You looked down at his hand in wonder.
“How are yours always so cold?” The corner of his lips quirked up. He’d gladly forget everything with you tonight, go back to a better time. 
You released his hand and brought yours up to examine them. “What? You think my hands are always cold? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have… I would… Merlin, what happened to my hands?” Noticing the discoloration and stitches, you brought them closer to your face to get a better look. Garreth grabbed a hold of your hands, covering them with his. He brought them down and began stroking his thumbs over your skin.
“Next time I go to Honeydukes, what do you want me to get you?” It was the first thing he could think of to distract you and it seemed to work wonders. You shifted a bit in the bed to face him more, excited to give him your answer.
“Oh, chocolate frogs. Is that even a question?” 
“You’re right.” He smiled at you. “It’s always chocolate frogs. I didn’t even need to ask.”
Your eyes widened slightly and you gave a quiet gasp. “Oh no, Gar. That reminds me. Did I ever get you your billywig stings?”
He chuckled. When and where is your brain right now? “Yes, you got them for me. Don’t worry.”
“Good.” You relaxed again. “Sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”
As he nodded in agreement and bit back a laugh, a student came rushing into the hospital wing, getting both of your attention. You looked at the panicked student curiously, and Garreth was mindful to keep your hands covered with his.
“Nurse Blainey, Isaac Cooper fell off his broom! W - We didn’t want to move him -”
Nurse Blainey didn’t hesitate to go up to him. “Take me to him immediately.” She looked back to the both of you. “I’ll be back shortly.”
You watched her leave the wing, then you looked back to Garreth. You raised a brow at him and he raised one back at you. He eyed you as you shifted in bed again, freeing your hands from his and moving away from him, creating space. “Join me while she’s gone.”
Garreth’s throat went dry. He gave a little cough to regain his composure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“You don’t want to?” You asked innocently as you laid on your side and looked up at him.
Still beyond weak for you. He exhaled and glanced back at the hospital wing entrance, then moved to lie in bed with you.
You grabbed his tie, fiddling with it as you lied there, face to face. He couldn’t help but feel completely at ease, as if he had gone back in time like you had. He brought his hand up and rested it on your cheek.
Your brows furrowed a bit, and you looked troubled.
“What’s going through your mind right now?” He asked, beginning to stroke your cheek with his thumb, careful to be gentle over your bruising.
“I feel like something bad’s going to happen this year, Gar. I can’t shake it.”
He shook his head. “Nothing bad’s going to happen.” He whispered.
You let go of his tie and met his gaze. “Then why do I feel so uneasy right now?”
He pulled you to him, tucking your head under his chin and you nuzzled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he held you. “N.E.W.T.s probably.”
You gave a soft hum. “Yeah… that’s got to be it. I hate tests.” He noticed your voice was starting to sound sleepy.
“I know you do.”
He propped his head up on his hand and looked down at you as he continued stroking your hair. He watched and waited until your breathing got heavier and you did those cute little snores of yours. Once he knew you were asleep, he kissed your temple, then slipped out of the bed as noiselessly as he could.
Just as he was about to leave, Nurse Blainey had made her way back with Isaac Cooper. He took one last glance at your sleeping form across the room, then left.
-
You didn’t know how long you had been out, but the grogginess and soreness you felt when you finally awoke was unreal. The sun was shining through the windows and you realized you were in the hospital wing. The last thing you remember was being in the arena and... You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them back up, trying to erase the image of Amelie DuPont’s mangled corpse from your head.
You looked up at the ceiling, breathing through the immense discomfort in your body. Then, something bright and blue caught your attention at the corner of your eye. You turned your head slightly to see a chocolate frog box on the bedside table. 
Who would leave a perfectly good chocolate frog lying around?
-
It was probably the first time in TriWizard Tournament history where none of the school Champions attended The Yule Ball. Was that historically accurate? Garreth wasn’t sure. But with how dramatic Headmaster Black was acting, he’d believe it was.
It was common knowledge Maxim Mainka wanted to keep to himself ever since the last challenge. Showing up to a ball was the last thing anyone expected him to do. As for you, Garreth had no idea where you were or why you hadn’t shown up yet. 
He didn’t even know what your plans were for the ball to begin with, didn’t want to ask, truth be told. Why on earth would he open up the opportunity to hear about how the woman he fumbled would be going with someone else? 
He saw how many people asked you. You had turned them all down from what he’d seen. At first, he thought maybe you’d want him to take you, but every time he brought up the ball, you’d change the topic. He could take a hint.
Garreth decided to leave and look for you. He hadn’t brought a date anyway. Why did he decide to go alone to watch the love of his life walk in and dance with someone else? He didn’t know for sure, but it was probably because he felt he deserved it, treating you the way he had this year. And it was all because he couldn’t handle being with someone so inconceivable.
He couldn’t believe he had been as upset with you as he was. It’s not like you had treated him horribly or were unfaithful. You had gone behind his back to save your best friend Natty for Merlin’s sake. You hadn’t betrayed him. You were only doing what you felt was right.
He had been so afraid of losing you forever, he convinced himself you were doing him wrong whenever you threw yourself into danger. And so, he pushed you away like an idiot. He had no idea where to begin when it came to fixing what you two had, had no idea if he even could.
Garreth asked around before he left but no one seemed to know where you were. Not even Natty knew and that had genuinely shocked him. Wherever you were in this castle, you didn’t care to be found.
-
Hopping from floo to floo for what felt like hours, Garreth had finally found you in Professor Sharp’s classroom of all places. 
Putting his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the doorway and watched you at one of the potion stations. It had been a few months since the last challenge, you weren’t fully recovered but all your scrapes and bumps had healed for the most part, only a few bandages here and there remained. 
He kept quiet and let himself just look at you. You were beautiful, all done up for the ball and brewing what looked like an edurus potion from what he could see. You looked like a dream, like you were made just for him.
“Don't you have a big, fancy Room of Requirement you could do this in?” He quipped.
Carefully dropping some more mongrel fur into the pot, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “Evening, Garreth.” You smiled politely, then turned back to your pot. “What are you doing here?”
Garreth’s face dropped a bit. You had greeted him like you were decent friends and nothing more. Isn’t this wonderful? After all, it was his bright idea. Garreth from a few months ago would have been thrilled to know you two could get to this point. And present day Garreth wanted to go back and kick Garreth from a few months ago’s ass. Turns out, he didn’t like being friends with you. Not one bit. 
“I could ask you the same thing.” He pushed up off the door frame and took slow steps towards you. 
“I ran out of mongrel fur.” You said, fixated on the brew before you. “Thankfully Professor Sharp let me take over the edurus potion he was already making.”
“I don't see Professor Sharp anywhere, just go on and admit you’re stealing it. I won’t tell.” He stepped closer. 
You shot him a brief smirk over your shoulder. You were glad to have Garreth back in your life and on such good terms too, but there were times when it just hurt. Tonight seemed especially bad. You had heard through the grapevine he asked Nellie Oggspire to the ball. Putting on a good face was taking a lot more effort than normal.
You cleared your throat, thinking of a way to keep the mood light. “How’s your night been?”
Ah, small talk. Merlin, he hated this.
He rubbed a hand down his face and came up beside you, peeking into your pot. “My night’s been fine. Looks like you need a few more ashwinder eggs.” He turned and went to go grab some for you.
“I was thinking the same thing.” You furrowed your brows and bit your lip as you stirred and looked into your pot, examining it closely to see if there was anything else it needed. 
He returned and handed the eggs to you, wishing he hadn’t caught your focus face. He was always a sucker for it.
“Thank you.” You said appreciatively, grabbing the eggs without looking at him and plopping them in. 
“Looks like that should do it.” He mused. His eyes gradually went up from the pot to your face, then down to your dress, more specifically your body in your dress. He swallowed thickly and made himself look back at the pot. “And you? How has your night been?”
“Pretty busy, I haven’t been able to get to the ball yet. One of our kneazles is having her litter tonight. Deek was going to make sure everything went smoothly while I was away, all he asked for was an edurus potion in case she got too cranky with him. Hence -” You gestured absently to yourself and the pot.
“You would spend Christmas Eve like this.” He smirked. “I thought it was a Yule Ball tradition for the champions to attend.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table.
You only shrugged your shoulders in response. You made yourself keep your eyes on your brew, because if you looked his way, you’d get weak at how wonderfully he cleaned up for the ball. 
Garreth… really hated this. He hated that you barely looked at him and that this was how your conversations went now. Your silences were never awkward, if there was a silence between you while you were together it was comfortable.
“Don’t worry, I’m almost done. I’ll be out of here and then you can take over this station.”
He furrowed his brows. “Hmm? I don’t need to do anything. I came to see if you were in here.”
You looked at him then and he met your gaze. Don’t give me hope like that, Weasley. You averted your gaze back to your pot. “Oh, well…” You cleared your throat. “Did you… need me for something?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t need you for anything. You weren’t at the ball and I missed you, that’s the gist of it.”
You glanced his way again. You weren’t going to let yourself have any hope until he told you he forgave you. You needed to hear those exact words, you wouldn’t let yourself jump at anything less.
“Don’t you have a date to get to tonight?” Garreth tried to sound as casual as he could. He hadn’t heard anything about who you’d be going with. But whoever they were, they weren’t with you now. Maybe he could ease himself into the pain instead of getting a full on shock when he finally sees you dance with someone else.
“Would you believe no one asked me?”
“Not for a second." He scoffed. "Even if I hadn’t seen people asking you with my own eyes.”
You chuckled. “Well, no date for me. I uh - I needed to go at my own pace tonight. Didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s Yule Ball just because -” You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a humorless huff, “- just because my head’s such a goddamn mess right now.”
Garreth eyed you with concern. Then he processed even more of what you said. “You were never going with anyone?”
You shook your head.
“I didn’t go with anyone either.”
You looked at him, surprise evident on your face. “You didn’t?”
Garreth held your gaze and shook his head.
“But… I thought you were going with Nellie.”
Garreth raised a brow at you, genuinely confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Well I - I heard from a few different people you had asked her.” You quickly looked away from him, a little embarrassed your jealousy and hurt were coming through.
Garreth shook his head, wanting to reassure you more than anything it wasn’t true. “I never asked her. I never asked anyone, I promise you.”
“I mean… it’s alright if you did, Garreth. You don’t owe me anything.”
He took a moment to take in your words, and they didn’t sit right with him. “I owe you everything.”
You stilled, your heart rate picked up, and you weren’t really sure if you imagined what he had just said.
“It’s you who owes me nothing.” He stepped as close to you as he could without touching you. “But I’d like it if you called me Gar again.” 
You slowly looked up at him and searched his eyes. “You’ve forgiven me?” You asked in a whisper, your throat constricting as your vision began to blur with tears.
He shook his head. “There was never anything to forgive.” He reached up and cupped your face in his hands. A few tears overflowed out of your eyes and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “Walking away from you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying something. I’ve done some pretty stupid things.” He tried to jest, and he was elated it got you to smile. “I can be yours. Easily. If you’ll have me.”
You couldn’t speak, and Garreth held his breath while he waited for your answer. After your brain caught up with everything that was happening, you nodded your head. 
Garreth released the breath he was holding and nearly collapsed with relief. He didn’t waste a second more and not so delicately placed his lips atop yours. Your hands moved up to his chest as you kissed him back, fisting the fabric of his coat. This was nowhere near your first kiss together, yet you felt brand new to each other. And you wanted to familiarize yourselves all over again. 
The pot began to sizzle. With his mouth still on yours, Garreth peeked one eye open to check on it. He groaned and tore himself from you, going to stir it. Chuckling, you got the flask ready for him. 
“What a team we are.” Garreth smirked as he scooped the edurus potion into the flask.
You capped it and looked up at him. “Acting like I didn’t do most of the work, are you?”
He smirked. “Tough talk for -” He looked back at you and your amused features sent his insides into a tizzy. “Tough talk for someone who…” His words drifted off and he smiled at you like a dullard. 
You started to laugh and raised your eyebrows at him. “Are you having a stroke?”
“Shut up.” He bashfully looked away from you and hummed, trying to unscramble his brain. “I um - I’m trying to go along and keep the joke going, but you look -” He let out a breathy whew sound. “You look amazing right now and it’s making me nervous.”
Your eyes widened slightly and you went fluttery at his words. It was your turn to feel bashful. You shook your head and playfully shoved him. Then you went up and pecked him on the cheek. “Come on, let’s get this to Deek.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
-
The Room of Requirement’s door formed before you and Garreth. And he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. It usually only let you in, but this made it twice now that the room felt he should be in there with you.
You two made your way in and he looked around, confused. “Where would the kneazles be?”
You laced your fingers through his. “This way.” You guided him through the bottom floor vivarium and he was almost getting annoyed at how insane this room was.
“Sweet Merlin, I thought this was a greenhouse or something.” He looked all over, breathing in the fresh air and smiling at all the magical beasts that ran up to sniff and examine him. “Is that a baby puffskein?”
You chuckled. “It is. Could you play with him while I get this to Deek? He’s been extra needy lately.”
“On it.” Garreth released you and knelt down, picking up the tiny creature that could easily fit in one hand. He gave the puffskein some scratches on the head. “How am I supposed to be okay with my girl being around a handsome little devil like you? You could steal her away at any given moment.” The puffskein looked up at him and tilted its head. Garreth let out a little gasp. “And you know it too, you shameless bastard.”
“Despite calling my magical beasts shameless bastards, you seem to be pretty good with them.” You said as you returned, hitching up your dress a bit, and kneeling down next to him.
“What can I say? I’ve learned a thing or two since I started paying attention in beasts class. Had to step up my game when this new girl arrived, you see. Cute thing, adored beasts.”
You smiled at him. “Funny, sounds like how I got so good at potions.”
He glanced at you and that bashfulness returned. You gave him too many butterflies for him to be able to keep his calm. To hide his jittery nerves, he kept up the head scratches on the puffskein. 
A nearby baby mooncalf started to get jealous at the attention the puffskein was getting and ran up to you. You chuckled and picked her up, giving her some scratches behind her ear. You looked over at Garreth, noticing he got quiet. You nudged him with your shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
He could only glance at you briefly, if he looked at you any longer he’d be a bumbling mess. He cleared his throat. Merlin’s beard, toss out a joke or something, Weasley. “I’m thinking you better not get any ideas from us holding baby beasts.”
You scoffed, but then decided to tease him. “Uh oh. It might be too late for that.”
He slowly set down the puffskein and looked at you with raised brows. “Now now, no need to panic. Just put down the mooncalf, yeah?” 
You let out a shaky breath, playing along. “A - Alright.” You set her down gently, and she ran off to go play with her moon ball. 
Garreth pulled the both of you up to your feet. “Better?”
You fanned your face with your hand as if you needed to cool yourself down. “I think it’s too late. The baby fever’s consuming me. Take me, Gar. I’m ready.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He took cautious steps backwards to get some distance between you two. “As arousing as that was.”
“Give in, Weasley. It’s our last year at Hogwarts, I think we both know what’s coming next.” You warned. Garreth stepped back even further from you, thinking of an escape plan. Before he could get any further, you bolted after him.
“Get away from me!” He laughed as he ran from you, dodging and weaving through the vivarium to try and shake you. 
“I’m gonna getcha!” 
“No!” You two were laughing hysterically as you ran up and down the vivarium field. “What in Merlin’s name?! How are you so fast in that dress?!” 
“Oh, you’re not escaping the Hogwarts Champion, darling!” You had grabbed a hold of his coat but he slipped out of it, narrowly escaping you.
“Dammit!” You laughed, dropping his coat to the ground.
He left the vivarium and you ran after him. You caught sight of him heading up the stairs. He glanced back at you briefly and realized he hadn’t lost you as much as he thought. 
“Oh shit!” He laughed and picked up the pace. Without thinking he went into the beach vivarium. The sand slowed him down instantly and he kicked off his dress shoes to keep running. 
As soon as you entered the beach vivarium, you kicked off your shoes as well, picking your dress up off the ground and going back after him.
He saw you coming and panicked. He looked back and forth between you and the water. He quickly decided to take off his socks and go to the shore. He saw you slow down and eye him defeatedly. 
“Ha! What’s the matter? Don’t want to get your dress wet? Such a shame.” He looked at you cheekily as he bent down and rolled up his pant legs. He gave you a smug smile and walked further into the water, deep enough to submerge his calves, kicking and splashing tauntingly.
“I can’t believe you’d let me suffer like this.” You meandered up to the water, tentatively dipping your big toe in and nothing more.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept the triumphant smile on his face. “Oh don’t pout, this is for the best. We don’t really want little Garreths running around, do we?” His smile faded and his eyes widened when a thought entered his head. “Oh Merlin, little Garreths running around wielding ancient magic… What masochist would want that?”
You shook your head and tried to bite back your amused smile, lifting your dress a little higher and dipping your toe in again. Garreth went a little mad at the sight. Oh no, maybe I’m the masochist who wants that.
Sighing dramatically, your head fell back and you closed your eyes, letting the vivarium's sun warm your face.
Fuck… I really want that. In that moment, there was no doubt in his mind, he was going to get on one knee the second you two graduated from Hogwarts.
“Truce?” You asked.
Garreth could only keep staring.
When he didn’t answer, you opened one eye and peeked over at him. “No truce?”
A small smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t a humorous one. It was a simple one, full of love. “Just come here, why don’t you?” He walked through the water towards you and held out his hand. You took it, meeting him halfway and getting the hem of your dress wet.
Garreth couldn’t seem to hold it together anymore. He cupped your face and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. He was always amazed at how soft you were, and he wanted you beyond reason right now.
Keeping his mouth on yours, he scooped you up into his arms. 
Your surprised yelp was muffled against his mouth. You pulled away and looked at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You were going to make a joke, but the way his eyes were on you kept your mouth shut. 
He walked the two of you out of the vivarium and his eyes roamed the room. “Direct me to a couch or something. Anywhere for Christ’s sake.”
You pointed across the balcony and giggled. “Over there, you brute.” 
He made his way over with you, leaving a trail of sand in his wake. He set you down and gently guided you to sit on the couch, kissing you all over as he did so. He then placed himself on the ground between your legs and began pushing up your dress. Locking his eyes with yours as he reached under and pulled down your underclothes. 
His member throbbed against the fabric of his pants when he caught a glimpse of your core, but you shut your legs together. He looked up at you in concern. You were biting your lip and looking away from him. 
“What’s wrong?” He went up onto the couch a bit and brought a hand to your cheek to get you to look at him, he pecked the corner of your mouth.
You shook your head and scoffed at yourself, shooting your hands up to cover your face. He smirked when you started snickering and he tried pulling your hands away.
You groaned like you were embarrassed. “I’m really nervous for some reason.”
Garreth chuckled with you and leaned forward to kiss at your neck. “Why are you nervous?” He asked against your skin and you could feel him smiling. “Not to brag, but I’ve seen you naked quite a few times already.”
“I know.” You sighed. “Maybe because it’s been a while or… or…” Your words drifted off as he began to suck on that spot below your ear, he hadn’t forgotten how you liked to be touched. Hopefully he could help put you at ease a little bit more.
He felt your body start to relax and he kissed down your neck. He pulled away to glance at you and you gave him a small nod. He went back to the ground on his knees before you, hitching up your dress again to reveal your heat. His breathing grew heavy and he placed your legs over his shoulders. 
He brought his lips to your folds like an opened mouthed kiss, his tongue tracing along. You jolted a bit at the sensation, feeling a little extra ticklish with it having been a while since he’d last done this, but he kept you steady with a strong hold on your thighs. 
He was starting to lose himself tasting you again after all this time. The wetness of your fluids and his spit mixing together had his member aching. Your breaths came out shallow as you watched him. His eyes were closed as his tongue rediscovered you, his fingernails dug into your thighs, hurting in the best way. He licked up to the top of your slit, and began sucking gently. 
“A - Ah! Garreth!” You whined as your muscles suddenly tensed and twitched at the sensation. He loved hearing you cry his name like that, and he was eager to get more out of you. But a thought occurred to him, and his body stiffened.
He took his mouth off of you and quickly glanced around. “That Deek fellow’s not here right?”
“He’ll be in the vivarium all night.” You said breathily. “Now keep going.” You grabbed his head and pulled him back to you.
“Right, sorry.” He put his mouth back on you and picked up where he left off. 
Your head fell back and you kept one hand on his head, fingers getting a solid grip on his locks. You had started to make the smallest of grinding motions as he kept at you, this was how he always knew you were close. He kept up his tongue patterns and could feel your hips pickup more and more. You let out another whine and gripped his hair with both of your hands then. He held onto your thighs tight when you began to convulse, riding out your pleasure on his face.
You slumped back on the couch, going a little limp, legs sliding off his shoulders. You caught your breath and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still got it.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled as you stood to your feet and he stood with you. Your giggles were muffled when he fused his lips with yours. 
You began undoing his buttons, taking off his vest then going for his shirt. You two broke from your kiss and he looked down to help you, both of your fingers shaky and hurried.
He shrugged off his shirt and went back for your lips as it fell to the ground. His hands gripped your hips, turning you so your back would be to him, keeping his mouth on yours until the last second. He then started undoing the back of your dress, planting open mouthed kisses on your shoulder and nipping your skin here and there as he did so. You could only bite your lip in anticipation as you waited for him to finish. 
Once you felt the dress was loose enough, you shimmied out of it and turned to face him, throwing your arms around his shoulders and claiming his lips again. He held you flush against him, making you feel how much he needed you through his pants.
You tore your lips from his and started unbuckling his belt. He didn’t help you this time, and just watched in a carnal haze as you went for the last of his clothes. Once you had undone his belt and pants you pulled them down, going to your knees as you did so. He hissed a breath through his teeth when you took him in your mouth and his hand shot up to get a gentle hold on your head.
As your mouth moved up and down his length, his breathing picked up and his insides felt like a furnace. But he didn’t want to finish yet, he wanted to be inside you again. He let his head fall back, enjoying it just a moment longer. Getting close enough to the edge, he looked back down at you and pulled himself away from your mouth. There was a line of spit from your tongue to his tip briefly. When it broke, you wiped it from your chin and looked up at him, your features flushed. He nearly burst at the sight.
You stood to your feet and took his hands in yours, guiding him back to the couch. He followed, completely hypnotized by you. You laid back and pulled him down on top of you. He brought his mouth down on yours heartily as he positioned himself between your legs. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at the two of you about to join. He took his member in his hand and rubbed it along your folds, coating himself in your wetness. 
He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You gasped lightly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. It took everything in him to keep his hip thrusts slow and not completely lose himself in you just yet. 
“I missed you.” He sighed against your neck. “I missed you so much.”
You mewled softly at his words and the feel of him filling you. Wrapping your arms around him tighter, you wanted to melt into him more than you ever had before. “I love you.”
"Mmh." With a low groan, he hitched your legs up a bit higher around him, picking up the pace and grinding into you at an even better angle. "Say that again…" 
"I love you." You whimpered as his hips picked up the pace, making you unable to speak as clearly as before.
"I love you." He said back. His breathing heavy in your ear as he tried to bury himself even deeper inside you with each thrust.
The noises you were making had his control start to fray at the seams. Grunts began to escape him as his hips pounded into you. He was nearing his climax again.
“Not yet not yet.” You said breathily, trying to push him back a bit. He nodded his head, a little delirious, but his mind still functioned enough to know you wanted to swap positions. The two of you adjusted so that he was the one on his back and you were on top. He caught his breath as he edged away from finishing again. 
You straddled him, careful not to put him back in you yet. You leaned down and kissed him. He placed one hand on your hip while the other had a grip in your hair, holding you to him like this until he felt he was ready to go again.
“Alright.” He whispered against your lips after a moment, and you shifted back. He let out a slow exhale as you sunk yourself onto him, gripping your hips. 
He was in you fully again, and your heat surrounding him as he lied back was bliss. You began to move up and down on him, resting your hands on his chest as you did so. As much as he wanted you to enjoy yourself up there for as long as your heart desired, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with this view of you bouncing on him as you were.
A throaty groan escaped him. "I’m almost there... Keep going.” He panted, furrowing his brows and looking down at your slit going up and down his length. “Fuck I’m about to -”
You withdrew from him and moved to take him in your mouth, he shot his hands to your head and held you on him as he released in your throat, grunting and spasming until there was nothing left.
You swallowed him as you sat up, then wiped at your mouth. “Still got it.” 
Garreth scoffed and threw an arm over his eyes while he recovered, using his free hand to rub your thigh. “Don’t mock me, I’m too vulnerable right now.”
You adjusted so that you were laying on top of him, he held you in his arms and ran his fingers lightly along your back. He looked up at the ceiling, completely at ease as you traced little shapes on his chest. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.
“Is the ball still going?” You asked.
“I think so.” He answered, his voice a little raspy.
“Want to go back before it ends?”
“Not particularly. Do you?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Good, I want to stay like this a bit longer.”
You nodded your head and sighed. “Me too. After everything… after that last challenge…” Garreth held you tighter, not wanting you to think about such a horrific memory. “Tonight was everything. Thank you.”
Garreth placed his lips on top of your head. Then decided he wanted to be like this with you for more than just a bit longer. “Let me grab my wand.” You nodded your head and shifted so he could get up and search his clothes. “Ah, it’s in my coat.” He picked up his pants and put them back on. “I’ll be right back.”
You sat up to move towards your dress.
“No. Stay right where you are, exactly as you are.” He picked up his shirt, slipping it back on and only doing a few of his buttons. 
You smiled and laid back down on the couch as he walked off.
It didn’t take long for Garreth to find his coat. He saw the baby puffskein and baby mooncalf napping on it, and decided to just grab his wand and leave it. 
Once he did, he glanced around for the moonstone he thought he saw earlier while running for his life from you. A smile tugged at his lips thinking back on it. 
Turning the moonstone he found into a large, furry blanket, he made his way back to you. 
“Don’t worry this blanket came from moonstone.” He said as he splayed it out over you. “No magical beasts were harmed conjuring this.” 
“Thank you.” You sighed gratefully, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself.
He shot you a smile as he undid his shirt, taking it off again. As he started undoing his belt and pants, he looked at the couch and furrowed his brows. “The couch wasn’t that big before, was it?”
You stiffened and used the blanket to hide your grin.
“Did you enlarge it?”
“No.” Your voice was muffled under the blanket.
“You had your wand this whole time?”
You turned away from him on the couch.
His eyes went wide at you as he pulled down his pants. “You minx! You just let me go out in the cold like that?” He came up and slid under the blanket behind you, pulling you back against him and closing his eyes. He sighed, exhausted. “To think I could have stayed naked this whole time...”
“I tried to get it but you told me to stay where I was.” You argued, the sleepiness clear as day in your voice.
He hummed in amusement. “I did, didn’t I? I’m such an idiot.” He cackled, sleepiness also coming through in his voice. 
“No, you’re sweet.”
It didn’t take long at all for you two to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Dealing with Deek stumbling upon you two and possibly telling his Aunt Matilda seemed like a morning problem.
420 notes · View notes
vesper-tinus · 5 months
Note
hiii hope you're doing great! could u pls write sth for Simon with fem reader?? anything domestic, soft and cute tnx sm your writing is beautiful🥰♥️
Hello! I'm doing alright, thank you! I hope you're doing well, too! I'm very busy these days, making it difficult to find time to write (maybe also due to Baldur's Gate 3, haha. I'm hooked). Somebody on Ao3 suggested an ice skating date, so I hope it fills out this criteria too!
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female ! Reader
Summary: A date to the ice-rink with your hsuband. Keywords: Female ! Reader, ice skating cate, happy lovey dovey married couple things!. Wordcount: 1051
Tumblr media
“No.”
“Please?” you ask again, the smile widening on your face, brightening your expression. “It’ll be fun!” you continue, gleefully dragging Simon along—your hand curled lovingly around his bicep. Just as he is about to tell you no again, you give his muscle a squeeze, and after a brief period of critical thinking, Simon sighs as he turns his attention from you. 
“...alright.” 
At the agreement, you all but shriek with glee, pulling him downwards to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be fun,” you repeat, “I promise! Thank you, thank you, thankyou—” You pull him along with a quicker pace, practically skipping, and even Simon can’t help but be amused at your open display of joy. 
Happy wife, happy life, as they say, and Simon can’t help but agree. Can’t keep the missus unhappy now, can he? 
As you walk, you attempt to quell any worries you might suspect him of listing in his mind. For all his stoicism, you know his mind is apt to create a million-and-one scenarios that could occur on an outing, with a million of them going wrong. “It’s a very low-key place,” you start, leaning closer to your husband, “my friend is actually co-owner of the ice-rink—along with her girlfriend.”
As you talk, Simon feels your intention, and lowers his arm to snake around your waist instead, giving a short hum of acknowledgement.
“Plus, I’ve asked what days and time-frames it’s less crowded, and today—right now—should be optimal!”
“You didn’t have to go through all that,” he responds halfheartedly, knowing well you did all this for him. “but I appreciate it, love.” The dulcet tone of his voice sends a pleasant warmth through you, and when you stop at a red light, he smoothly tilts your head upwards to share a kiss as you wait for the light to switch. “I’m a lucky husband,” he says against your lips, “to have a wife as thoughtful as you.”
There you both stand, happily sharing kisses as a small crowd passes by the two of you. He presses you closer, and now it’s you that feels lucky when his tongue seeks to deepen the kiss. When you part, you can do nothing but stare warm-faced as the light turns from a bright green to red. “We missed the light,” you note sheepishly, leaning against your husband still catching your breath. 
“Doesn’t bother me much,” he says in turn, his faint smile widening slightly. “Leaves me more time to do this…” And once more, he leans down to catch your lips for a kiss, and you eagerly meet him halfway. 
Eventually, with a few distractions, you do manage to reach the indoor ice rink. 
As soon as you enter the building, you’re met with a chill temperature. Fresh and pleasant, and Simon even seems to welcome it.
You hear the echo of a child’s laughter, and the sound brings pleasant memories of younger days. You coax your husband further inside, passing a couple making their way out. They are slightly red-faced, most likely from the cold, but they look happy and exhausted, and it makes you excited for the things to come. 
“Skates first,” you instruct, and Simon gladly lets you guide him around the premise. He has never told you this, but he loves it when you take charge in areas he is unfamiliar with. You’re always physically connected to him—be it by holding hands or taking him by the arm. Leaning against him so he can feel your soothing presence.
You explain things as you walk, and he enjoys hearing it all. ‘Benches for tying our skates’, ‘there’s a café behind those curtains, they make the best hot chocolate’, ‘I feel flat on my face right over there when I was young...’.
Your friend greets you happily from behind the counter, fishing out a pair of skates for each of you. The two of you catch up, making small talk as Simon stands silently beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back. Your friend wishes you a fun time, waving you off as you, once more, guide him along. “We were neighbours as kids,” you explain as you settle on a bench, “even back then she was skating—always dragging me with her.”
You tie your own figure skates first before offering to do his, only to find that he has already tied them with efficiency. Army training, of course.
Before you even have to time to comment on it, he's already shifting one of your legs over his lap.
"Simon?" you ask, watching him untie your skate, only to re-tie it again. Much better than what you did, you note. Tighter, more secure. When you thank him, his thumb is tracing circles against your clothed, lower calf.
"Can't have my wife slippin' on the ice, now can I?"
Your excitement is evident as you carefully make your way towards the ice. You’re no professional, perhaps even a bit rusty, but you’re confident that whatever skill you might’ve had will come back after a few minutes. 
From an outside perspective, he would appear casual, perhaps even disinterested, but you know when he’s hesitant. You notice when he’s uncertain, when his jaw is subtly clenched. Perhaps he would’ve been more comfortable in hockey skates, and you make sure he knows the offer to switch stands. 
“Almost there, sweetheart,” you say with encouragement, beaming a smile over your shoulder. 
The ice welcomes you like an old friend.
You smoothly turn to face Simon, hands outstretched for him to take.
“What we don’t do for love,” he says dramatically, causing you to roll your eyes with mirth. But he takes your outstretched hands in his own to meet you on the ice. Dare you say, perhaps even with a bit of confidence? He pulls you to him, and there you stand, chest to chest. 
“Why, hello,” you coo at him, head tilting to lure him in for a kiss. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Simon takes the bait hook, line, and sinker, warming your lips as you share a kiss. You continue this exchange of brief kisses and embraces as you skate, like a reward for his progress. A carrot on a stick. It doesn’t take long for him to get the hang of it, though he is never completely comfortable either. He hates the drifting, and readily sass you when the opportunity arises. 
Together, you glide across the ice. Encouraging each other through competitiveness and love. 
Your laughter echoes throughout the, now empty, rink, and Simon can’t help but feel awe-struck by the beauty of your enjoyment. To have you willingly share this side of you, one so eager and excited, with him is… humbling. He matches your efforts in earnest whenever you pick up the pace, and whenever he finds it difficult to brake, you’re right there to slow him down. Time passes in the blink of an eye, and only when you pause to catch your breath do you feel the tiredness in your calves and the cold on your face. Perhaps it’s time to call it quits. 
You wave at Simon,  gesturing for him to rendezvous in the middle. 
“Thank you,” you say as you skate into his waiting arms. 
He catches you readily, even if you cause him to slowly drift backwards. He arches a brow, awaiting a continuation. 
“For joining me, I mean. I… had a lot of fun, Simon.” You pause, draping your arms over his shoulders, your smile softening. “It means a lot to me that you were willing to try.” Your husband’s stubbornness is legendary—both a help and a hindrance, yet he finds it increasingly difficult to say no to you. Though, you know when not to press a suggestion, and he appreciates your willingness to compromise. 
“And you mean a lot to me, love.” He kisses you, leaning down to kiss your jaw next. His nose is cold, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be” Which is Simon’s way of saying he had fun. 
“All’s well that ends well,” you agree, preening at his enjoyment of your shared activity. “Let’s head home to warm up?”
He hums in quiet agreement, letting you guide him by the hand as you skate towards the rink’s edge.
Wherever you go,  he will readily follow. 
Wherever you are, he will meet you halfway.
151 notes · View notes
bloodynereid · 3 months
Note
hello!! (2nd request of the day let’s goo). i was wondering if you could do something with a gn reader and either jordan, rooster, phoenix, or hangman?? it’s completely up to you. reader comes from a rough household with like a lot of yelling and swearing and door slamming (from parents and younger siblings) and at one point ____ (insert character here) yells and they kinda just freak out and cry or something because it reminds them of home?? and lots of comfort after?? - 🧚🏻
Sorrys & I Love Yous
pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x gn! reader
tw: bradley is sort of an asshole in this im sorry but it fit with the fic, screaming, crying, trauma response
description: memories and feelings of your past resurface after an incident regarding dinner.
a/n: hii🧚🏻anon! sorry that it took me so long to write this and also sorry that this is so short i'm trying to get back into writing! also i hope it was ok that i chose rooster, he just made the most sense (i was thinking of the jake and bradley fight in the briefing room) and this is good ?? idk i think im having imposter syndrome with my writing haha. also as someone who has had this sort of thing happen to them i hope i wrote this okay, it's based off my own experience but who knows.
Tumblr media
It had been a good day at work. You had been able to finish a piece your editor had been nagging you about and you were actually happy with the final product. It seemed like it was the opposite for Bradley though.
You arrived back to your shared house on the coast later than usual, you had stayed back to chat with some of your colleagues about the new issue of the magazine and time ran away from you. You had parked your car next to Bradley’s bronco and felt a surge of happiness at seeing the familiar blue vehicle.
“Hi honey!” You called out into the lit house after dropping your keys on the little dish beside the door.
“Hey.” Bradley called back to you from the living room, where the familiar sounds of a football game blared out.
You smiled and kicked off your shoes before ambling over to the couch and giving Bradley a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.
“How was work?” You asked as you sat down next to your boyfriend.
“Shitty.”
“Jake being an asshole again?”
“Hmm.” He hums back in assent and you nod in understanding before getting up and walking over to the kitchen. Usually the first person who comes home makes some kind of dinner but as you stare at the empty counters and unlit stove a pang rang through your heart.
“Bradley, honey, did you make dinner?”
“What?” You cringed slightly and turned to look over your shoulder to your distracted boyfriend.
“Did you make dinner?” You repeated.
“No.”
“Uh, is it okay if I just order something?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Right.”
You went to grab your phone from your discarded bag and started to scroll through the usual restaurants.
“Bradley, honey, what do you want to eat?”
“Huh?”
“What do you want to eat?” You repeated in a slightly annoyed tone, he wasn’t acting like himself and it was getting on your nerves.
“Whatever.”
“Whatever?” You asked incredulously as the man finally met your eyes and a twist of his mouth made a shudder run down the length of your back. It reminded you of your father right before he started yelling in your face.
“Why the hell are you on my case? You’re the one who’s fucking late, what the hell were you doing anyways?!” Bradley yelled out, his voice escalating as his fist clenched around the beer bottle. After a few tense moments it was like your brain went on autopilot.
Your nerves seized up, your vision went white and a whimper escaped your throat. You felt rivers of water start to fall from your eyes and you felt completely and utterly powerless.
When Bradley realized what he just did he quickly let go of the beer bottle and moved to scoop you up in his arms but you still weren’t totally there. Your body seized up and you were suddenly running away from him and into the downstairs bathroom.
The loud bang of the door hitting the frame echoed through the house as you turned the lock and slipped down until your legs were against the cool tile.
Shivers racked your body and sobs fought their way out of your throat and lungs.
“What the fuck is happening to me?” You muttered out loud in between sobs.
“Honey? Y/N?” Bradley’s now soft voice, the one you were used to, bled through the wood. “Are you okay?” At that a loud sob escaped from your gasping lips.
“Please open the door. I- I’m really sorry. I, fuck, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s my fault, I should have made dinner and instead I screamed at you when you didn’t do anything wrong… sweetheart?”
“Yeah?” You whispered out.
“Oh there you are. Can you please open the door?”
Taking a deep breath in, you carefully pushed yourself up from the floor and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Swiping your hands against your cheeks you let out another sob before turning around and turning the lock before opening the door.
You were met with the sight of Bradley who had a bereft look on his face. He looked like a puppy who had just been left behind for the first time.
“Oh sweetheart.” He gathered you up into his arms and you encircled yours around his body, clutching him tight.
“What you did was wrong.” You muttered into his shirt as tears continued to run down your face. “You hurt me Bradley.”
“I know and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that and you’re free to break up with me if you want. I was being a total asshole.” A teary laugh left your throat and you broke your embrace to look at his face.
“I’m not breaking up with you, you idiot! But I do agree with you being an asshole.”
“I deserve that.” You snorted before Bradley leaned over and placed a peck on your forehead.
“I’m really fucking sorry.” He said again and you nodded.
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
Tumblr media
this was only re-read like 2 times so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes <3
141 notes · View notes
hopelesslyromanticgay · 10 months
Text
Playing with her hair - Vada Cavell X Reader
Y/N's POV:
"Why are people in horror movies so dumb!" my girlfriend Vada complains, "Like in the real world no one is stupid enough to do ANY of this. Like, no one would even pick up the phone in the first place!"
"Uh huh," I say to the girl sprawled out across my lap and the rest of the couch, not fully paying attention to what she's saying. I'm more focused on counting her freckles. A while ago, the question of how many freckles she had started to interest me and ever since it's been hard to get the idea out of my mind.
68...
69...
70...
"Y/N/N, are you listening to me?" she asks, breaking my trance, "am I rambling again, I'm sorry."
"Don't be! You're cute when you ramble," I reassure her. She looks over at me, a huge smile creeping over her face, her beautiful brown eyes shimmering in the dim light.
"In that case, I'm gonna keep going," she tells me, "what kind of dumbass decides it's a good idea to let their younger than six year old kid go out of the house alone on a rainy day!"
"Bad ones, I guess," I say absentmindedly. We keep on watching the movie we have on, neither of us really focused on it. without even thinking of it, my hands make their way to her hair.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Messing with your hair," I admit.
"Oh my god, are we acting like a normal couple?" she gasps.
"Do you not like it?"
"No!" she exclaims, "please don't stop."
"Oh my god, can I style it?"
"As long as it's not too fancy," she insists. One of the first things I ever learned about Vada is how much she hates looking fancy. She doesn't like the tight fitting "feminine" clothing, or the way makeup feels on her face. She hates the way her hair gets tightly pulled into an uncomfortable style, and then gelled into place. What's even worse is if she has to do all three of those TOGETHER. So I'm making it a point to keep it fairly informal, but still neat. 
I run my fingers through her dark brunette locks, trying to get the various knots out.
"Ow!" that one hurt!" she squeals.
"Sorry, oh my god are you okay?" I apologize, hoping I haven't hurt her too bad.
"I guess," she says sadly.
"Will this make it better?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She looks up at me smiling, "so much better." I brush a few strands of hair out of her face before continue styling it. She climbs into my lap, facing away from me so I can better access her hair.
I start parting her hair, so that there's an even amount of it on each side of her face.
"Oh my god Beverly get out of that house!" Vada screams, practically jumping up at the television, "I swear these people are so dumb."
"Vada, baby, you need to sit slightly still for this to look good," I say softly.
"Fine," she pouts, "why is you doing this kind of relaxing?"
"Maybe I just have that effect on you," I suggest.
"No, normally you make me so excited and happy, like a little kid seeing a bunch of candy and a lot of stuffies!"
"Aww, that's cute," I smile, my face getting warm.
"You're the best girlfriend ever," she compliments me, "I don't know how I wound up with someone as beautiful and funny and all around amazing as you."
"Maybe it's because you're the best girlfriend ever," I suggest.
"No you are!"
"No you!" We continue to argue about who's the better girlfriend, eventually realizing that we'd never get the other to agree with our opinion.
I end up sorting her hair into two neat braids, not too fancy, but presentable. 
"And voila!" I say, snapping a photo of the brunette to show her how she looks. She turns around quickly to view the photo.
"I look like Wednesday Addams if she had severe PTSD," she laughs, "but seriously, I love it."
"You do look like that!" I cackle, "what a funny coincidence!"
"Thank you, Y/N/N. I love it," she smiles softly, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
"Sure thing, it was probably more fun for me than it was for you," I giggle.
"Well you can play with my hair anytime," she offers.
"Haha! You're gonna regret making that offer," I tell her.
263 notes · View notes