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#exactly the chaos I was hoping for
ingravinoveritas · 9 months
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Michael straight up writing erotic gay fan fiction about Lucian and Aro in a 2012 interview and I am losing my mind...
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literallyjusttoa · 1 year
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Could you tell us more abt ur au where Apollo doesn’t come back exactly right after surviving being so close to chaos 👀
Yes!! Actually I had a fic that I really wanted to write about this, and I am planning on still doing that but I will tell y'all the gist of it bc I cannot contain myself. (Also this is a bit different from some of the things I've said before about this so I hope you still like it lol)
Ok so, the fic was gonna be a 5 + 1 fic, where Meg and Apollo both realize that something's ... off about him after the trials. His powers and abilities are fluctuating for seemingly no reason. Sometimes he's just a normal god, but sometimes it's like he's still a mortal. And he's also having times where he's way stronger than a god should be, like, near primordial levels. It's causing him a lot of issues, for example:
Gods don't need to eat or sleep, but mortals do. If Apollo doesn't realize his energy levels are going down, he will just end up crashing from lack of food/sleep. This leaves him perpetually exhausted and shaky.
His blood is now all kinds of crazy colors, and it changes based off of where he is on the mortal/immortal scale.
When he's in a "mortal" state of being, he's pretty similar to a demigod. Meg and Apollo learned this when Apollo accidentally did some lightning bending one day. This is not something Apollo has ever wanted to be able to do, and he freaks out appropriately.
One day, Apollo woke up sick and tired of this whole situation. He jokingly wished that someone else could just take over the sun for the day. However, Apollo hadn't realized that he had just gotten a huge power boost overnight, and his harmless little wish just created a second sun. Haha whoops.
Eventually, Apollo ends up breaking his father's rules and visiting Asclepius just so he can get some answers about this, so here's a little rough comic based on the scene I wanted to write explaining this whole mess.
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thefloatingstone · 23 days
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I will say I was mildly disappointed that I didn't get a chance to speak to The Emperor after the final battle because Karlach was kind of busy dying and that required my SOLID AND INSTANT ATTENTION after which there was no opportunity to speak to him.
I did get the letter from him (which my friend said she was jealous of because she didn't get a letter) but apparently there IS dialogue you can get from him after the final battle or something?
I'll have to see what happens next time or when I play Durge or when I aim for an Emperor focused run.
I just gotta stop Karlach from dying. She's not allowed to die. Ever. She has to live for 10 000 years.
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greppelheks · 11 months
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Healing and growing and experiencing new things is so great, but it's also so damn overwhelming. I'm feeling so overwhelmed with all the decisions I have to make, all the things I need to think about, all the setbacks and joys I need to process, all the emotions that are a part of that. All I wanna do today is cry and sleep.
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infizero · 1 year
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shut UPPPPPPPPPPP someone just put the clip of tiny manticore telling betty "maybe you're going after someone who doesn't exist anymore" with simon trying to bring back betty back ohhhh i feel sick
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There's something to be said about being a teen girl and feeling like you're going insane, hating every bit of yourself, convinced all everyone thinks about is your flaws, wanting to starve yourself, trying to figure out what it means to be a woman in a world that's not built for them and what's going on inside your own body and head - and people calling it your "difficult period" but for them and not you
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alexthetrashyracoon · 4 months
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Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.
Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.
“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.
Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.
He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.
“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.
“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.
“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”
Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.
“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.
“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.
A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.
“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.
“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”
Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.
“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.
Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.
“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”
Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.
“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.
“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”
(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)
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fastandcarlos · 2 months
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Life With The Verstappen Family : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: a glimpse into the life of the verstappen family and your two little ones who are always causing chaos
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liked by schecoperez, redbullracing and 2,593,069 others
maxverstappen1: turns out being dad is the coolest thing in the world 💕
139,583 comments
username1: not max as a dad also being the coolest dad in the world
username2: the handsome dad vibes are strong in these pictures 💪🏻
danielricciardo: congrats my friend!!
landonorris: can't believe you're actually dad...wow you're old 😂
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris you're not exactly a spring chicken anymore yourself
username3: is it okay to be this jealous of a small child??
ynusername: can't wait to spend the rest of my life being mum and dad with you 💞
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I'm definitely the lucky one between the two of us ☺️
username4: I can't believe we get to see dad max at the paddock next year
oscarpiastri: why is your tiny human so cute? clearly yn got all the good genes in there
redbullracing: welcome to the smallest member of our team, we can't wait to have you in the paddock soon!! 💙❤️
username5: the proud smile on his face actually melts my heart
username6: forever in love with max as a dad already 🤧
georgerussell63: who'd have thought you'd be the first to settle down, congrats you two!
charles_leclerc: dog dads are better than human dads btw 🤷🏻‍♂️
schecoperez: sending all my 'how to survive life as a dad' books your way my friend
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,472,293 others
ynusername: turns out max can’t ski and ydn is absolutely showing him up on the slopes ⛷️
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username7: omg look at how grown up yn is getting
maxverstappen1: imma just focus on the first photo and how much my little girl adores me...no idea what you're talking about with the skiing 🙄
username8: yn pls tell me you've got some videos of this lol
landonorris: he is the most uncoordinated man i've ever met and you chose to take him skiing 🤦🏻‍♂️
ynusername: @/landonorris it was ydn's choice, you know max can't say no to his little girl
carlossainz55: i'll have to show him how it's done one day
username9: not ydn falling asleep in max's lap, it looks so comfy there 🤩
username10: anyone else think that ydn looks more and more like max's twin everyday??
username11: how can one family be so cute? 🤔
alex_albon: lily told me you sent a video of max falling on his ass, please say I have permission to see it too?
ynusername: @/alex_albon it's all yours 😘
maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon @/ynusername hey i refuse to give permission for this!!!
lewishamilton: hope you guys are having the best time, tell ydn i've got the biggest cuddle waiting for her when i see her next
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liked by ynusername, alex_albon and 1,799,391 others
maxverstappen1: all my babies ❤️🥺
189,382 comments
username12: i dont think my ovaries can take much more of these updates
username13: i can't deal with how adorable these are!! 😭😭
ynusername: guessing i'm not your baby anymore 💔
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you'll always be my baby 🫶���🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
landonorris: i thought I was your baby too???
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris go away before i block you again 🙄
charles_leclerc: btw dogs are still better than cats
username14: not charles starting a war of pets in the comments sections
username15: praying i come back as a cat so i can be adopted by the verstappens too 🤞🏻
georgerussell63: can you stop taking sickeningly sweet photos of your daughter so that we stop missing her during the off season please
alex_albon: ydn's position reminds me of how lily looked when i got home last night fast asleep on the sofa
lilymhe: @/alex_albon btw the couch is yours tonight now 🖕🏻
username16: how can these cute photos cause a domestic lmao
username17: it's always max causing trouble even when he doesn't mean to
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liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 994,293 others
ynusername: forever a third wheel when it comes to these two 🫶🏻
48,193 comments
landonorris: now you know how i've felt for the past six years 🤷🏻‍♂️
username18: i'll come and save you yn!!
danielricciardo: you should be used to it...you third wheeled us for several seasons
username19: ydn is such a daddy's girl its unreal 🤩
maxverstappen1: stop making people feel sorry for you, you choose to hang back and take all these photos hahah
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 JUST LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT
username20: i can't cope with how unserious these two are as parents 😂😂
username21: i wonder if ydn realises how lucky she is getting to travel the world with max verstappen by her side
oscarpiastri: just so you know, lando laughed out loud when he read the caption to this
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri just so you know, he's the worst!
username22: yn must be desperate for another baby so its 2v2
username23: even as a third wheel I'd be happy just being that close to max
schecoperez: come and hang out in my driver room instead!! 💙
lilymhe: i'll save you bestie
ynusername: @/lilymhe knew i could rely on you 😘
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liked by alex_albon, sebastianvettel and 1,382,291 others
maxverstappen1: why does no one ever warn you that two kids are so much harder to control than one 😂
89,503 comments
username24: emilian you knew what you signed up for when you got yn pregnant
danielricciardo: now imagine being christian trying to take control over both of us hahah 😂😂
username25: max and one kid was cute but max and two kids...wow
schecoperez: you should've listened to me i did warn you
ynusername: all I can see is ydn getting dangerously close to that water you fool 🤦🏻‍♀️
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername i've got everything under control don't worry
username26: how can any man complain when you're kids are that cute
charles_leclerc: i keep reminding you that me and alex are happy to babysit whenever you want us
maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc alex I trust...you...well 🤫
username27: its the colour coordinating with ysn that does it for me
username28: is everyone going to ignore how grown up those two babies look these days
landonorris: i can come and join you and see what it's like to practice for baby number three if you want? 😂
username29: lando norris you menace
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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 2,392,605 others
maxverstappen1: nothing better than when my two loves come and cheer me on, I promise you they are impressed by what daddy does, even if their faves suggest otherwise 🥺
194,382 comments
username30: cannot wait for my social media to be filled with verstappen baby content this weekend
ynusername: no way we're missing a home race, good luck for this weekend my love 💕💕
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername thank you for bringing them to support me, you're the best
username31: max looks so happy to have them there omg
username32: i wish someone looked as happy as max does to have me around them ❤️
carlossainz55: if they don't appear in ferrari at some point this weekend i'm never speaking to you again
alex_albon: and the williams garage!!!
pierregasly: alpine are expecting a visit too!
danielricciardo: and rb, it would be rude not to after all 🤷🏻‍♂️
username33: ydn and ysn are the most popular people in the paddock this weekend hahah
username34: i can't cope with how obsessed everyone is over these two
lewishamilton: i can't believe how big they are, where does the time even go?
georgerussell63: @/lewishamilton you mean to say you've already seen them and I wasn't there to join you 🫢
username35: poor yn won't get a second to breathe racing around all these garages
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,492,503 others
ynusername: introducing the team to their favourite drivers, and charles 😂
79,305 comments
username36: ah we got the photos to prove they visited guys
charles_leclerc: you best be kidding or i'm never babysitting for you ever again 😡
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc jokes we love you really
danielricciardo: it was lovely to see team verstappen again after so long 💞💞
landonorris: btw ysn said that i was his favourite so snooze you lose max!!
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris if you want to believe my son prefers you to me you think that my friend
username37: look at how soft they all become when they're around verstappen babies ☺️🥺
username38: i just want someone to look at me like charles looks at ysn
georgerussell63: still waiting for my turn excuse me
carmenmmundt: pls come and visit before george actually explodes 🥺
ynusername: @/carmenmmundt i promise we're on our way!!
username39: do people even go to f1 for racing anymore or just to see ysn and ydn??
username40: i saw the four of them at the gates this morning and I swear i've never seen anything cuter...
carlossainz55: there better be another post filled with photos of me and ydn coming up
oscarpiastri: lando has not shut up about the fact he saw you guys...now look what i've got to put up with 😂
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liked by ynusername, schecoperez and 2,583,604 others
maxverstappen1: a tribute to the woman that holds our team together, I couldn’t do this without you yn, the best mum and wife in the world ❤️❤️
105,583 comments
username41: how yn puts up with two kids and max i will never know
ynusername: it's the easiest job in the world being by your side with our two little treasures 🏎️🥺
landonorris: yn deserves a medal having to deal with you day in day out
georgerussell63: i've lost count of how many times i've seen yn running around the paddock for you, ysn or ydn
username42: i swear yn is just the best mum ever ❤️
username43: i want to be adopted by yn and yn only
carlossainz55: not forgetting the fact she now is in charge of your two cats too
charles_leclerc: at this point she's pretty much mum to us drivers too with how well she keeps us all in check 😂
username44: i thought it was just fans obsessed with the verstappens, turns out its the drivers too
username45: i expected nothing less from this group of boys who are absolutely whipped for yn
username46: its official, the verstappens are just the best 🫶🏻💕☺️
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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ingravinoveritas · 1 year
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So, it is now three days into Pride, and the gayness just keeps on coming. This is a screenshot from 2019 of Michael responding to a piece of Ineffable Husbands fanart of Aziraphale and Crowley at the cinema in the 1980s.
For those who may not know (as I didn’t, not being from the UK), La Scala was a cinema in King’s Cross, an area of London that (pre-Soho) was a haven for all things LGBTQ, and showed many LGBTQ-themed films throughout its notorious run.
But the extra special thing about these gay all-nighters (and which Michael would have undoubtedly known when writing that tweet) was that all sorts of debauchery (a.k.a., gay orgies) tended to ensue among its patrons:
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...So, not only do we know that Michael has thought about Aziraphale and Crowley fucking, we also know that he has thought specifically about when and where they would fuck...and it’s in a place nicknamed The Sodom Odeon. On top of all that, we now have GO season 2 coming out with a scene filmed in the Bo’ness Hippodrome and Michael looking incredibly smug on the day of filming said scene. In a dark cinema. With David. I just don’t even know what else to say...
(Also...What were you doing in King’s Cross in the mid/late ‘80s, Michael? Is this knowledge all from firsthandjob experience? Because I would not be at all surprised...)
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soobnny · 24 days
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my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf
(1.3k words)
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It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.
Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.
It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.
Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.
Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.
(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)
(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)
A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.
“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”
“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”
They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.
There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.
“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”
Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”
A pin drops.
Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.
“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.
“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”
He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.
Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.
“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”
He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”
“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.
Seungmin simply keeps eating.
“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”
“I already knew.”
“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”
“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”
That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.
“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.
“Just around 3 months now.”
If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.
“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”
“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.
Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.
And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.
“Show us what she looks like!”
The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.
“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.
“I know.”
Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.
While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.
(8:23pm) innie: I miss u
(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!
(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now
(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn
(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!
(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u
(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?
(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call
(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second
(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while
(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins
(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now
“Oh my god, she’s calling.”
That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.
“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.
“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.
Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”
You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”
The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.
“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”
“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”
Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”
“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.
“Can I see you later?”
“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”
“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”
“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”
“Love you too.”
The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.
“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”
“My girl.”
“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.
Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.
And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.
The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.
One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.
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helaintoloki · 1 month
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Family Dinner
pairing: Five x reader ft the Hargreeves siblings
warnings: the usual Hargreeves siblings chaos
notes: fulfilling a request asking for a shy!reader meeting Five’s siblings for the first time. it was actually very hard squeezing in so many characters into one piece
summary: despite trying his best to avoid it, Five is forced to introduce you to the family
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The last thing Five wanted was for you to meet his family. If he could, he’d do everything in his power to keep you away from the chaos and stupidity that was his siblings forever. He didn’t need them overwhelming you with their quarreling or reminding you of how utterly tumultuous his home life was, and he felt an unwavering need to keep you separate from the Umbrella Academy. You were the one thing he didn’t have to share with his siblings, the one thing he had earned on his own without his powers, and the one thing that was normal in his life. He would do anything to keep his life from tainting your innocence by all means.
The discovery of your existence by his family had been completely accidental. When visiting his new apartment for the first time, Allison and Klaus had stumbled upon a framed photograph that Five had forgotten to stow away before their arrival. In the frame was a beautiful girl with kind features and a gentle smile, her arms lovingly draped around Five’s neck as he held her to his side and forced a lopsided grin for the camera. They knew Five had always hated photos, but it seemed here that he was willing to set aside his disdain for being photographed to please this mystery girl.
“What are you two looking at?” Five demanded after stumbling upon them staring down at the frame. Eyes widening when he realizes just exactly what the two are looking at, he quickly snatches the photo from Klaus’s grasp and holds it protectively against his chest. “I can’t believe this, I was gone for two minutes and neither of you could manage to stay out of my things.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?” Klaus asks, voice laced with mock offense as he clutches at his chest to mimic being wounded.
“The details of my personal life are none of your concern,” Five grits through clenched teeth, his tone dripping in annoyance at their snooping and frustration at being caught red handed. How could he have been so sloppy? Five had always been meticulous about every minute detail and keen at covering his tracks when needed, and yet he had failed to protect the most important secret he held.
“She’s gorgeous,” Allison tells him in hopes of assuaging her agitated brother, “and she looks really sweet. Why would you hide something like this?”
“This may come as a shock to you, Allison, but you guys aren’t exactly great at first impressions,” he explains condescendingly with a tight lipped smile, doing his best to hold back the urge to use more colorful language and insults. “The last thing I need is for you guys to start hashing out old childhood issues in front of her and scare her off.”
“Ouch, okay, noted,” she replies with a displeased frown. “But that’s still no excuse to keep your relationship a secret. I know we’re not always the most reliable bunch, but obviously this girl is important to you, Five, and if that’s the case then she’s important to us, too. Just give us a chance to prove ourselves- bring her to my place Friday for dinner so we can all get introduced.”
Five is silent as he mulls over Allison’s offer, doubt clear on his features as he considers all the possible ways a family dinner with you could go. While there are a million ways for it to go wrong, he’s able to acknowledge the plausibility of it being a success. As much as he hated to admit it, his sister did have a point. They weren’t always completely unreliable, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think spending time with his siblings could actually be pleasant at times. And it’s not like you haven’t been questioning him already about his family and the details of his childhood. Perhaps it was time to finally bite the bullet.
“You get one chance,” Five finally relents in a firm tone, pointing his finger at them both in warning. “Do not screw this up.”
“How exciting!” Klaus gasps with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. “Oh, I have the perfect dish for this occasion.”
As Allison and Klaus immediately begin to discuss the details of Friday’s dinner, Five can only force himself to quell his panic as best as possible and hope that you’re able to stand his family.
~~~
You fidget nervously with the pendant of your necklace as Five swiftly parks the car in front of Allison’s home. It’s beautiful, and by the looks of the warm lights that glow through the window it seems the festivities have begun. Despite your boyfriend having already turned off the car, you make no attempt to move, prompting Five to reach over and gently take hold of your hand in his.
“Don’t worry,” he assures you in the softest voice he can manage. “These idiots are more worried about impressing you than you are about impressing them.”
“They’re not idiots, they’re your siblings,” you reprimand him gently before finally mustering up the courage to step foot out of the car. “And despite how much you act like they annoy you I know you really care about them. I just want it to go well is all.”
Five can’t really argue with that- sometimes he hates how easily you’re able to read him. It’s a feat not many can accomplish, and yet you managed to do so in record time. It’s also just another thing he adores about you; you see him like no one has before, and your gentle nature and levelheadedness perfectly balance out his tense and combative personality. You’re good for him, and he hopes his siblings see the good in you too.
The door swings open before you can press the doorbell and immediately you find yourself being pulled into the tightest hug of your life. A gasp of surprise leaves you at the sudden intrusion, and it takes everything in Five to resist the urge to immediately pry his sister off of you. He stares daggers at her innocent smile behind your back, but she merely waves him off before pulling away to look at you.
“It is so good to finally meet you!” She exclaims cheerfully, excitement clear in her tone. “I’m Allison. Come in, come in.”
You aren’t able to get in a word edge-wise as the woman practically drags you into her home and begins to show you around. A pleasant smelling aroma fills the house from the food that cooks in the kitchen, and animated chatter drifts throughout the hallways as the siblings gather and catch up on each other’s lives.
“Please make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you, a-and thank you for having me,” you offer with a meek smile, your hands nervously wringing together in front of you. “I’ve heard so much about you all and it’s finally nice to put faces to the names. I’m y/n.”
“Well then, welcome to the family y/n,” Allison notes with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen. You almost jump in surprise when you feel Five’s hand rest against your lower back as he leads you into the living room to meet the rest of his siblings.
“Ready to enter the lion’s den?” He whispers under his breath, and for a moment you genuinely can’t decipher whether or not he’s joking.
Three men and a woman sit on the couch animatedly discussing the contents of the television show playing on the screen before turning silent at your arrival. The sudden attention makes you nervous, your throat drying up as you harshly swallow down your anxiety.
“Luther, Diego, Lila, I’d like to introduce you to my… girlfriend,” Five utters after clearing his throat, obviously not familiar with the process of introducing a partner to family. He was still fairly new at this relationship stuff and still struggled at times with opening up. If he didn’t care about you so much he probably wouldn’t even bother, so you appreciate his efforts. “Y/n, these are my brothers and my sister-in-law.”
“Girlfriend, huh? This is certainly an upgrade from the last one,” Diego teases with a wry chuckle.
“Wasn’t the last one a mannequin?” Lila prompts with a raised brow much to Five’s dismay.
“Shut it,” he warns through clenched teeth, heat crawling up his neck at the mention of Delores. Leave it to those two to bring up his past at the worst time.
“A mannequin?” You repeat unsurely, your features contorted in confusion. Five’s eyes widen in panic, but Luther is quick to change the subject on Five’s behalf.
“It’s nice to see Five with someone for a change,” he notes with a nervous chuckle in hopes his comment redirects your attention off of the previous topic. “How did you two meet?”
“I work at a coffee shop in town,” you explain with a sheepish smile, and Five visibly relaxes beside you as you start to recount the beginnings of your relationship. A crisis has been avoided thanks to Luther, and for once Five is grateful for his brother’s conversational skills. “I was the only one who could make his coffee exactly the way he liked it, so he became a regular and would stop by every time I was working. We got to talking, one thing led to another, and, well, here I am.”
“Well, I for one think you are much too good for him,” Lila points out to the boy’s annoyance, “but seeing him less uptight and ornery is a pleasant change.”
“Thank you for that lovely observation, Lila,” Five retorts sarcastically with a roll of his eyes before escorting you out of the living room before the woman can embarrass him any further.
“Did you really date a mannequin?” You whisper curiously only for Five to immediately redden at your question.
“Let’s not hash out my dating history just right this second,” he instructs you before entering the dining room where a man has just finished setting down a heavy centerpiece on the table while another watches.
“Hmm, a little more to the left,” the one with curly hair and heavy eyeliner instructs while scrutinizing its placement. His eyes glance over the table before landing on you and Five in the doorway, and he immediately gasps before rushing over to greet you. “You must be y/n! Oh, it is so lovely to meet you. I’m Klaus, Five’s favorite brother, of course.”
“I don’t ever recall saying that,” Five points out with a raised brow and amused smile. Klaus simply rolls his eyes and waves his brother off with a tsk.
“You don’t have to, I can see it in your face,” he dismisses before returning his attention to you. “And that handsome man over there is our sweet brother Viktor.”
“Hey,” Viktor offers with a timid smile and small wave. “Nice to see you, welcome to family dinner.”
“Thank you,” you reply gratefully, “it’s nice to finally meet you all.”
“Well, not all of us. A certain someone thinks he’s too good for family dinner,” Klaus huffs in annoyance before turning his attention back to the centerpiece. “Does that look centered to you?”
“It looks perfect. I love the arrangement you’ve made,” you compliment much to Klaus’s delight.
“Finally someone with taste!” He gasps before draping an arm around you much to Five’s dismay and guiding you back to the kitchen. “Come, come little one, you can help me pick which napkins to use.”
Watching your figures disappear into the hallway, Viktor glances at Five before stating, “I don’t think you’ll be getting her back for a while.”
“Trust me, I’m aware,” the boy sighs in displeasure before heading towards Allison’s liquor cabinet for a drink.
~~~
Much to Five’s surprise, dinner goes off without a hitch. The food is lovely, the conversation is pleasant, and despite your usually shy demeanor you were able to open up rather quickly to his siblings. It was obvious the family took a great liking to you, and his original worries about them scaring you off had been proven irrational and untrue.
From his seat on the couch Five watches as you animatedly converse with Luther and Klaus about a new bakery that just opened up in town, your smile never once leaving your face and their interest in your words never once dwindling. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you talk this much, and the sight brings a comfortable warmth to his chest at seeing you happy.
“See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?” Allison goads with a pleased smile. “Everyone had a nice time and y/n fits right in.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Five relents with a soft smile. “This was nice.”
“And we like y/n, so don’t mess this up,” Lila warns him with a facetious shove to his shoulder. Annoyed by her words, Five rolls his eyes and shrugs away from her touch before refocusing his gaze on you. Your eyes meet for a brief second as you glance out into the living room, and you flash him a quick smile before looking back to Klaus who enthusiastically grabs hold of your hands and begins to demand a trip to the bakery with you while Luther attempts to insert himself into the plan. Despite how annoying his family can be at times, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring a smile to see his face to see them all get along with the girl he loves.
“Trust me,” he utters carefully, his voice so uncharacteristically tender it takes the two women by surprise, “I’ll do anything to keep her around for as long as I live.”
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hello-eden · 1 month
Text
 Surprise Reflection
Red robin feels like he has been hit by a truck. He has no idea why he feels like this. He knows for a fact he was drugged and not hit over the head but there are more important things to worry about.
He wakes up tied to a chair with both rope and handcuffs. it's going to take a minute to get out. He looks around at his captors who make it very obvious that his initial guess of cult is correct.
There's a summoning Circle in the middle of the room that they're working on. He has no idea what there's summoning. No one's turned around to look at him and started villain monologuing to tell him. He sees two other people tied up and he recognizes them. 
Red hood and spoiler in gear, which is an unexpected surprise he thought they were off tonight. Hood is still conked out but spoiler is awake and gagged. He wonders if she bit one of the cultists or if she tried Nightwings favorite tactic to be as annoying as possible. 
He's busy trying to unravel the rope silently all the sudden he hears chanting. That is the worst thing to happen at this moment. He has basically zero backup as hood is incapacitated and spoiler is just as tied up as him.
Red robin tries to is yelling at the cultist trying to figure out what's going on or at least distracting them with the fact he's awake but they don't seem to hear him.
A being appeared in a blinding flash of white light. There is an unsettling feeling in the air that seemed to emerge with them.
Their eyes glowing such a bright green that you could barely make out the shapes of their face. Their hair seems to come down to their hips alternating from black to white. Their body forming itself right in front of their eyes turning into something not quite human but trying to be. the being turned to survey the room from the cultist to the heroes trying to stop whatever ritual this was.
“ WHO DARES” the being said, sounding as if they've been insulted.
“ Oh great being of chaos and Power, we have come before you to ask for a boon ” one of the cult members came forward to say.
“what is this boon you wish for” The being asks clearly not wanting to be here.
 “if the mighty one would will it we would be most grateful to have the ones known as the Justice League destroyed”
 The Being stopped for a moment as if trying to figure out what the cult leader had just said.
“Is this a fu*king cult”
That stopped everyone in their tracks. 
“I would not call it a cult, I would call it a group created to promote your greatness.” the cult member says trying to save the situation.  
“ That's a cult,“ The Beings seem to start laughing as they realize who had summoned them. ”is this seriously what's going on. who the hell even is this Justice League that you've decided they need to be destroyed.”
“ They are people who promote the destruction of ourselves and have been working too stop the spread of your greatness.”
“ Your majesty,”  Red Robin says, hoping to swing this one there way as it's obvious whatever this thing it is not exactly fond of Cults. “We are Protectors of the place that these people have been trying to destroy.”
 “Are you trying to make me go against Heroes” The Being said, even without a clear look at their face you could tell they're in disbelief.
“You Dare,” The anger in their voice makes it very clear they are dangerous ”I am created from one of Realm's Greatest protectors. you dare try and make me destroy Heroes. I will enjoy giving you to the nightmare dimension”
Another bright light appeared though this time instead of just being inside the circle it covered the entire room. This time the light was a ombre of green and blue. Once the light dispersed all of the cult members seemed to have disappeared.
In the center of the room where the summoning Circle originally was stands a girl. her eyes are the same bright green with white hair but this time with a human face. A familiar face. She's wearing jeans with a constellation hoodie and matching Converse.
“apologies for the inconvenience I do quite hate when I'm summoned” The girl disappears just as she finishes speaking. 
It took Red Robin a while to realize what was confusing him but the second she left he realized. She had Damian's face. From the shape of his nose and the resemblance to Bruce even down to the bright Lazarus green eyes. She was a mirror image and he had no idea what that meant for them.
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httpsserene · 2 months
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Hiiii
I just got done reading your masterpiece with the Austrian bread and got an idea.
What about the making of Aussie kids? Reader would have a baby fever and Toto would immediately be like ‘let’s make one’ and reader would cry out ‘ but I’m on birth control’
Pure chaos and smut
Sending positive vibes
𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐭. 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟
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𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
summary: don’t bake a man’s favorite bread unless you want to have his kids. it’s a good thing you’re desperate to do exactly that. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. kitchen sex. pregnancy kink. baby fever. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. creampie. implied masturbation. implied age gap. reader and toto are married. breeding kink (i guess)? birth control. actual pregnancy. beta read by @biancathecool pairing: toto wolff x fem!black!reader genre: written fic (1.8k words).
from serene: here’s the part two to toasty, i hope it satisfies the requests i got for this! i personally don’t understand the thirst some of you have for toto but, i do respect it. maybe one day i’ll see what y’all do or somebody can educate me on it but, i do hope y’all are pleased with this one xxx
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A switch has been flipped in your brain—you’ve become more than insatiable for your husband. After he railed you on the counter for making his favorite bread, baking has become your entire personality. The way Toto looked at you after he tried your first attempt at an authentic pumpernickel bread changed how your brain fires. The mix of love and lust that filled his gaze had awoken an innate instinct within you: you need to have this man’s babies.
You’ve always claimed to be an independent woman, your dream was never to become a man’s accessory, or housewife, or tradwife. But, for Toto? For the way he looked at you as he had his first taste of your pastry? You’d set feminism back for a hundred years to keep getting fucked like that for the rest of your life. You spent an ungodly amount of money (Toto’s money) on baking utensils and you’ve pretty much been running a bakery out of your kitchen. Every few hours you’re shoving a pastry down your husband’s throat, eagerly awaiting his praise for each creation you seem to bake perfectly. 
Off-handedly around a mouthful of cinnamon sugar knots you baked, Toto moaned at the dessert melting on his tongue, seemingly in a daze when he murmured, “I’m going to get you pregnant if you keep baking like this.”
You laughed at his unexpected outburst, brushing it off as Toto hyperbolizing how great the dessert was. However, it was like the words infected your brain–every waking hour, you constantly thought about having his kids. And it didn’t help that once Toto heard you set a timer for the oven, he’d be tearing your clothes off and fucking you on the nearest surface. The kitchen island is a favorite, but there was an instance where he took you on the floor. Afterward, he claimed to be too old for sex on tiled floors, but you were too busy imagining growing a baby in your belly to care.
The severity of your baby fever is only realized when you reach into your nightstand to take your birth control and...you hesitate. You’re on the last week of pills, you should message your clinic to get a refill. Imagine a child, a mixture of you and Toto. And, you’re aware that pregnancy can be rough but you’d finally be able to decorate that spare room into a nursery instead of letting it collect dust. A baby; a combination of your best halves. Would they have your deeper skin tone, or Toto’s height, or your curls, or his nose, or your eyes? You could have your baby cradled to your chest as you bake for your husband, their father—
“Schatz?” Toto calls in question from his side of the bed, eyes concerned through the lens of his glasses, “You froze, are you okay?”
You shake the thoughts from your head, the smile you give him is slightly strained. You complete the monotonous motion of swallowing tonight’s allocated contraception with a sip of water. Tossing the packet back in the drawer, you speak, “Yes, I’m fine. I just realized that I need to order more birth control.”
His eyes examine your expression for a moment before he nods and offers a simple, “Hm.” in response. Toto fixed his eyes back on the book in front of him, and you ignore the disappointment that burns in your chest. Sighing mutely, you grab your phone and request a refill in your clinic’s online portal.
The next morning you’re awoken by Toto sweetly petting you awake, his thumb tracing lightly along your cheekbone. He murmurs an apology as he reveals that he’s going to be trapped in the home office today with back-to-back meetings concerning the looming Formula One season. You pouted even while you nodded your understanding, pleading for a kiss before you lost his attention for the day, which Toto happily divulged.
You busy yourself, prepping Toto’s favorite pastry and setting it to bake in the oven as early as possible. As a caring wife, you prepare meals for him and slip into his room to deliver them knowing he would forget to eat if you didn't remind him. You make sure his coffee never runs low, even if you switched to decaf after the second mug—he shouldn’t have too much caffeine at his age, you’d like to grow old with him eventually. To your dismay, Toto did not lie about being locked in the office. He was sequestered within those four walls well past sunset and as a result, you’ve produced enough baked goods in your free time to power the entire Mercedes factory for a week.
“I think we are going to have to discuss a limit for how many things you can bake in a day, schatz,” your husband sounds from the kitchen entryway, an awe-filled look on his face as he sees the bakery you’ve created. 
“The pumpernickel bread is still baking—would you like a cinnamon roll instead? Or a chocolate chip cookie? Or could I interest you in a slice of apple pie?”
You’re well aware that your curls are a mess in the loosely fastened bun dangling low on your head, you probably have streaks of flour and other various baking ingredients on your face mirroring the dirty surface of your apron. The unhinged baker aesthetic you’ve suddenly adopted is pulled together by the wide grin splayed across your lips. 
“I could eat all three,” Toto hums, his eyes darkening as he approaches you in the kitchen, fingers rushing to untie your apron, “—If you can help me work up an appetite.”
Various baked goods are shoved out of the way to make space for you to be bent over the island. Your flushed brown skin is cooled by the marble surface, nipples hardening quickly at the temperature but, it doesn’t stop you from spreading your legs and helping Toto tug your panties to the side underneath your skirt. He’s quick to press a finger within your entrance and pauses when the slide is too easy.
You squirm desperately, whining when Toto halts your hips from rocking backward on his hand.
“Schatz,” Toto murmurs, his free hand palming at your ass, “Did you—”
“Yes!” You cut him off, stomping at the delay, “I got bored waiting for things to bake—I’m ready, just fuck me.”
Thankfully, Toto is quick to listen to you and substitute his finger for his cock, his slacks unzipped enough to pull himself out. At the stretch, your eyes roll back and you lose the strength to hold your head up, letting it fall to press against the cool marble. You feel your husband still his hips but you reach your hand backward to grasp at his pressed dress shirt, using your grip to tug him forward, a non-verbal cue for him to keep sinking into you. He curses lowly and leans downward to rest his head on the back of your neck, pressing the remaining few inches inside.
Twin moans of pleasure are exhaled into the kitchen, Toto’s hands move to hold your waist, his clasp on your skin tight, reflecting the force he’s mustering to refrain from fucking into you without your approval. The burn from his girth fades quickly replaced by the feeling of fullness you’ve become addicted to. You roll your hips softly, moaning shakily at the drag of his length within you and Toto meets your rhythm smoothly. 
He fucks into you deeply, grunting on every other thrust in, you feel the breath of his chuckle ghost across your back when you fall limp in his hands; he’s well aware that you enjoy sitting pretty and taking what he gives you. Your cunt clings to his cock, the plush heat trying its hardest to disallow Toto from exiting, urging him to stay buried inside of you as he scrapes directly over your most sensitive points. 
Your husband straightens himself upright, pressing you firmly down on the counter with a hand in the middle of your back, his other hand slipping around to rest on your navel while keeping your hips angled upward for a better angle.
His thrusts become rougher and you can only scramble to hold on to the island, hands slipping from the sweat accumulated on your palms and skin. Your mouth is parted, drooling from the corner of your lip, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe through his thrusts, moans and gasps punched out of your chest, his cock hardened and pulsing within you, and your curls bouncing out of your bun and sticking to your back and forehead from the heat.
Toto’s hand presses into your belly, and he pants lowly, “You feel me right in here—I’m going to put a baby in you, schatz.”
You shudder in his arms, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to reply, and you swear you feel yourself become wetter at the image your husband planted in your mind.
“You can’t,” you whine out roughly, whimpering as the force of his thrusts rocks you up across the island, the ledge digging into your hips, “ah—’m on birth control!”
He grunts dismissively, patting his hand on your belly as his rough thrusts are exchanged for deep grinds, hitting places that send tantalizing rushes of pain along with pleasure up your spine, “Okay,” Toto huffs, “Stop taking it.”
You mean to ask clarifying questions, but he doesn’t let you get a word in as he continues to ramble about getting you pregnant.
“Fuck, I’m going to give you a baby, yes?” “—Going to be so pretty carrying our child.” “You’ll be such a good mum.”
The last one pushes you over the edge harshly, your nerves burning at the white-hot flash of pleasure, the sounds of Toto following you muffled to your ears as your orgasm floods your senses. You feel a dampness on your cheeks and it takes Toto wiping it away to realize you’re crying. His hips continue to slowly grind deeply within you, his cum painting your walls, and he pulls you upwards to press your lips together.
“You were serious,” your voice cracks embarrassingly as you moan the words into Toto’s lips, “About the birth control?”
“Yes,” your husband answers confidently, his words supported by a firm thrust of his cock that makes your eyes roll and body shiver, “If that’s what you want, of course.”
You hum, pleased at his response, “You need to remind me to call the clinic tomorrow to cancel my refill order.”
Toto grumbles incoherently, more concerned with toying with your nipples and kissing along your collarbone, “Yes, schatz—can you go again? I want to put a baby in you as quickly as possible. You would look so beautiful with a bump, no?”
5 weeks later you run out of the bathroom and leap into your husband's arms, brandishing a positive pregnancy test wildly. 
You laugh gleefully, tears of joy forming in your waterline, “I guess both of us are bakers now!”
“What?” Toto offers confused, trying to still your arm to grab the test.
“Both of us are bakers now! You put a bun in my oven!”
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© httpsserene2024
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swordgrace · 2 months
Text
𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘.
༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: in the aftermath of rook’s rest, you seek aemond out to inquire about his wellbeing. instead, you find him somewhere else — somewhere unexpected. (set after S2 EP4).
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༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.
༺ WORD COUNT: 5.2K.
༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni) , spoilers for s2 ep4, public sex / risk of getting caught, knifeplay, imbalance of power, rough sex, darkish!aemond, dom!aemond, p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief tiddy sucking, groping, biting / marking, hair pulling, choking, fucking right in front of the iron throne, inaccurate high valyrian, brief dirty talk, lots of aemond’s inner thoughts, breeding kink if you squint, aemond is extremely possessive of the reader to an unhealthy degree.
༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: to preface, I am working on requests, this just happened to make its way out of my brain before anything else did. This was inspired by the single shot of Aemond standing in front of the Iron Throne in the S2 EP5 trailer, you can tell how desperate I got as soon as I saw it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! There will be a Jace fic dropping tomorrow, too! ❤️
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 — a seat of power constructed by Aegon the Conqueror in the aftermath of a bloodied war, forged from thousands of surrendered swords.
In the days of Aegon the Conqueror, it was said that the Throne was sometimes too high to climb, a jagged labyrinth of blades melded by dragon’s fire, a throne fit for any ruler. Men impaled themselves upon one another’s blades for it, turned against one another, endless betrayals and treacheries ensued all for the sake of the endgame, to see themselves upon the Throne.
Brother turned against brother — you didn’t expect anything less from Aemond, whose desire to exact revenge boiled just beneath the surface. The Battle at Rook’s Rest had proved a slaughter on all fronts, between the decimation of both Cole’s armies and the castle they laid siege upon, to the death of the Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, Melys.
Whispers spread through the Red Keep in regards to King Aegon’s condition, bones crushed beneath the weight of Sunfyre, who plummeted from the skies in a ball of fire. His flesh was scorched, half of his body melded to the Valyrian Steel armor he wore, burnt beyond recognition.
If they were to be believed, King Aegon was gravely wounded — and if a fatality ensued, who would then bear the mantle of King?
A restless dusk gripped King’s Landing as the surviving soldiers from Cole’s armies arrived at the city gates, King Aegon amongst the wounded. In what you considered to be a mass panic and hysteria, Maesters rushed to diligently attend to their King, who seemed to be meeting a simmering grave inside of his armor — it would be his tomb if they weren’t careful.
Merely a handmaiden and servant to nobility, the antics of your masters didn’t interest you — you were wholly preoccupied with your own survival and self-preservation, amongst other things. It was said that Aemond and Vhagar had swarmed the battlefield and come to King Aegon’s defense, but by the time they had, Aegon had been swallowed by dragonfire.
Part of you had difficulty believing that Aemond truly attempted to save his elder brother, given Aemond’s embittered sentiments. Your relationship with the Prince had transcended all bonds of propriety — and if anyone were to find out, they would likely have your head for sullying his virtue.
Nevertheless, as chaos swarmed around you, you knew exactly who to seek out. Queen Alicent had little desire to be hounded by handmaidens while her eldest son struggled to hang onto his own life, something you could understand. Instead, you made for Aemond’s chambers, the route embedded into your mind.
You sought him — all of him. His lilac hue, a maelstrom of forlorn emotions, and his silvery tresses, like cascading silk, embedded themselves into your mind. His cunning countenance and beguiled expression were like hot-iron brands cast onto your thoughts, tormenting you with each waking moment.
As you stepped closer to the Throne Room, no longer guarded by Kingsguard, you saw the great door ajar — no King atop the throne. You wondered if he would live, Aegon — a drunken, broken man who preferred his cups and whores over ruling — or if he would perish.
You knew who would sit the Iron Throne, should Aegon fall.
A heavy darkness had befallen the throne room, fitting for the many tragedies, like the gloom of a shadow haunting all who dared to enter. Curiosity gripped you as you stepped inside, a place well above your station, yet you wondered if there was anyone inside.
The doors remained shut, save for the one you slipped through, the gap slim. Flickering braziers provided some illumination to such a grandeur hall, but it seemed so dour and lifeless without the presence of the day, without subjects fluttering in and out. Instead, it provided an ominous sense of dread, as if luring those inside with dark omens and false promises.
A familiar crown of silvery tresses stood at the very center, before the throne — he didn’t need to turn around for you to know who it was. He seemed entirely unscathed by the battle at Rook’s Rest, hands carefully folded behind his back, posture poised and dignified.
Aegon’s dagger flashed within his right hand, clutched tightly at his side. You wondered how he had acquired the blade so swiftly after a tragedy — but you knew. You had always known of Aemond’s nature, of his restrained resentment towards his brother, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
“Aemond.” Your voice reverberated throughout the throne room, carrying a fair distance as you closed the door behind you. The studded mahogany groaned in protest, yet bent to your will as it closed with a noisy thud. Admittedly, you were surprised to see him here, and not in the comfort of his chambers.
He didn’t move, rigid and still as you quietly approached, dresses sweeping across the smooth stone beneath you. His violet hues remained transfixed upon the Iron Throne, a throne that would soon be his, if fate favored him. So many swords, so much strife and conflict that forged such a chair — so much bloodshed.
Aemond often wondered what the weight of the crown would feel like upon his brow — and even then, he knew he would wear it better than Aegon ever could. He had stood by the wayside for far too long, learned in his studies and a talented swordsman, wondering if it would all have some reward, some payoff.
Now, his opportunity was swiftly approaching.
Whatever anger he’d often kept leashed, it had struck out, like the bite of a poisonous viper, sinking into its prey with all its bitter viciousness. It was the same tempestuous rage that had lashed at Lucerys Velaryon, and now it had struck his brother, Aegon the Magnanimous.
A stupid sobriquet for a stupid man — a drunken fool. Aemond would simply pass it off as an unfortunate accident, with Aegon carelessly stepping into the line of fire whilst tangling with the Queen Who Never Was. Swift decisions had to be made on his part, his brother a victim of such action.
Any silver-tongued words that would placate his Mother, he was prepared to let them fly. Aemond knew enough to know that the consequences would be slim, and those of true action and cruel intentions would take Aegon’s place — men like himself.
Soft footfalls fell across black stone, and you called his name again, like a siren’s song luring the sailor into deeper waters. “Aemond.” It was saccharine, dripping with genuine warmth that the Prince was simply unaccustomed to.
The unexpected lull of your voice broke his fixation, and he looked to you with a gaze full of desire. It was a farcry from the frustrated, despondent man you’d encountered days prior following the incident at the brothel. There was a newfound fire within his eyes, a confidence restored — a sense of triumph.
Admittedly, you were rather perplexed by this invigorated side to Aemond — that wild gleam within his lilac eye only seemed to grow in intensity as you approached him. “I heard the news of what happened to your brother,” You began, pondering his reaction. “You have my deepest sympathies.”
The admiration he had for you only seemed to blossom, knowing that you were simply keeping up appearances for his sake. Aemond’s mouth tilted into the ghost of a smirk, feigning melancholy despite the truth of his own actions. “It was a horrible thing, what happened to the King,” He uttered, glancing toward the throne. “I wish for his swift recovery.”
A facade was a mere understatement — you could almost taste the smug bemusement that rested within Aemond’s tone. The slight quirk of his mouth, the manner in which he spoke — his sympathies for Aegon were nonexistent.
“As any good brother would.” You replied, stepping closer until you stood before the Iron Throne, gaze falling upon the thousands of swords swarming the seat, blades of many shapes and sizes. You wondered about the people behind each sword — who swung it, what their lives must’ve been like.
A brief hum escaped Aemond, who observed you hawkishly as you approached, violet hue greedily drinking you in as he had many times before. You had stood so faithfully by his side, never admonished him for the brash actions taken against his family, never deemed him pathetic for what happened at the brothel.
He cared little for your station, little for your status as a lowborn — if he sat the Iron Throne, he could have whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if you were a commoner, Aemond could envision you as his wife, a Queen — no longer bowing to the whims of greater men and women who cared little for you.
“Did my Mother dismiss you this evening?” Aemond questioned, digits tense around the pommel of Aegon’s knife — now his. Seeing as he was no longer fit to carry the weapon, it was only just that it pass to his brother, his next of kin.
“She did,” A gentle exhale escaped you, one that allowed you to maintain your composure. Being in Aemond’s presence seemed to make you dizzy with desire with each passing moment — not a new sentiment, but an intoxicating one. “I was coming to find you, to see if you were well after the battle.”
Shamelessly, Aemond became quite aroused at the thought of you wandering about the Red Keep with the single-minded desire to see him. His blood ran hot after the battle — the surge of adrenaline did not lessen in your presence.
His jaw tensed slightly as he appraised you, taking a step closer, brazenly closing the distance between you both. He could smell your perfume, the warm bouquet of flowers and a touch of honey. “How thoughtful.” His voice dropped to a low purr, dripping with the first inklings of lust.
Your breath hitched, words turning to ash upon your tongue as your fingers curled into your dress. Aemond enticed you in ways that no man had before — and he saw you, a woman beneath the gowns of a servant. The hammering of your heart within your chest had stirred something powerful — your want for him consumed you like a tidal wave.
Before you could utter his name, he descended like a starving wolf to kiss you, open-mouthed and bleeding lust. You shivered, wanting to coax him into returning to his chambers before things became heated. His hand dropped to seize your hip, hauling you closer to him until no space was left between your bodies.
You reciprocated his kiss, able to hear a faint growl of approval building up within his throat. It was fiery and hot, with little concern of who might see you. Aemond was growing emboldened, brazen knowing the power he now held within his grasp.
“We should return to your quarters,” You whispered, a strained whimper tearing past your lips as Aemond kissed your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck. “Aemond, we can’t — not here.” Your breathy pleas fell upon deaf ears — what better place to claim you than before his new throne?
“We can,” Aemond murmured, pushing your tresses aside as he claimed your throat, laying waste to your flesh in his rabid kisses and hungry bites. “The rest of the Keep is preoccupied.” His reassurance was threadbare at best, but you were beginning to slip off of the deep end, fingers clawing at his tunic.
“What if someone sees?” Fear trickled into your voice, a subtle fright that Aemond found to be enticing. You worried for your own skin — he could understand that. A moan escaped you as Aemond nipped at your jugular, squeezing at your hips.
You failed to comprehend that he would protect you, shield you if needed. He did not need to justify his obsession for you, just as Aegon never offered any justification for his nightly whore hunts. Aemond seemed quick to soothe your worry, hand clasping at the nape of your neck.
“Then I will have their head,” His delectable purr dropped an octave, scratching the itch within your head. “You needn’t worry, ñuha dōna. I can do whatever I wish.” Aemond assured you, a great fire burning within his lilac hue. The leather of his eyepatch concealed the listless sapphire beneath.
He only needed to serve himself — his family cared little for him, and the world was often against him. He looked forward to facing Daemon whenever the time came, should he be bold enough to challenge him. Aemond dismissed it all — Aegon, his mother, Criston Cole — the only thing that mattered were the both of you.
Aemond’s streak of possessiveness had grown into something uncontrollable, a festering desire to keep you close, spiraling into obsession. You were many things to him, many things he coveted for himself.
After a moment of hesitation, you decided to make things tempting for Aemond, loosening the bodice of your dress. His breath hitched, the noise subtle if one wasn’t observant enough. He seized the back of your head once more, hungrily pressing his lips to yours, consuming you in another heated kiss.
A dour portrait of dusk hovers around the Red Keep, its shadowy tendrils slinking into the throne room. Only moonlight and dying braziers are your guide, and Aemond is at his prettiest whenever he’s touched by the silvery rays. It strikes his narrow visage, paints his silky tresses in pale light.
He is closer to a god now than he is a man — fortunately, you were willing to return to religion if it meant that Aemond was who you worshiped. As much as you liked to believe it was the foundation of your relationship, he thought of it alternatively, the roles reversed.
Your digits slip beneath the overcoat he wore, marred by speckled dirt and brimstone. His broad, sinewy shoulders are concealed by his tunic, and he seems vastly overdressed compared to you, still wearing your servant’s clothes. Aemond had gotten you a dress to wear with him before — you never wore it otherwise.
There is a certain intensity in the way he kisses you, as if each embrace might be your last. In the aftermath of a battle, you understand such sentiments, given the fate of the King and the Princess Rhaenys.
A growl reverberates within the depths of his throat as he pries his mouth away from you, gesturing toward the flight of obsidian steps that ascend toward the Iron Throne. “There,” He uttered, more of a command than a suggestion. “Lay down.”
A shudder rolls down the length of your spine, followed by an onslaught of goosebumps that snake across your flesh like a fever. Your stomach churned with anticipation, filling with the sensation of sloshing heat, burning brighter as each moment passed.
Without question, you step toward the throne, noticing the sharpness of some blades, the dullness of others. You find your footing upon the last step, feeling Aemond stalk closer. The rustling of his belt makes you shiver, only to find the steely chill of the Conqueror’s knife pressed against the dip between your shoulder and neck.
Aemond closes in behind you, caging you against his chest, like a predator swarming hapless prey. His narrow nose brushed along your soft tresses as he dragged the tip of the knife from your shoulder to ribcage. “Shall I cut this from you?” He uttered, digging the Valyrian steel into the fabric of your dress.
Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you brace yourself for the bite of the knife, for the unruly tear of fabric, but it never comes. Instead, Aemond’s mouth pressed vigorous kisses against your neck, hand seizing you by the throat.
“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke.” Aemond purred, feeling you turn within his grasp. Desire oozed between you both, an onslaught of carnality soon to follow. His lilac hue flickered over your countenance, drinking in your beauty with unrestrained rapture. You belong to me.
From what little High Valyrian you’d learned in the time you’ve been with Aemond, you strung enough of the sentence together to know what he meant. “Iksan aōhon.” A soft whimper emerged from between your parted lips, noticing the way his pupil dilated with amorous intent.
I am yours.
A flame of obsession roared within his gaze, enough to burn you alive where you stood. Aemond reveled in your submission to him, drank in your devotion — a devotion that would prove fruitful, should he ascend the throne. The tip of the knife prodded into your sternum, and you absentmindedly leaned forward.
Aemond captured your mouth once more, laying claim to you — his paramour. There was nothing sweeter than your desperate mewls and reciprocated passion, the succor of your mouth, the saccharine scent of your perfume.
The both of you descended to the floor, icy and stony as it prodded into your back. He knelt between your legs, gaze momentarily flickering between the shadow of the Iron Throne and your mesmerized visage. Aemond kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip before rucking up your skirts, pushing them toward your hips.
With one knee, he bullied his way in between your thighs, breaths heavier, wrought with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to your collarbone. In one smooth tug, he loosened your bodice, wrestling with the coarse material as he buried his face into your silky skin.
The throes of passion filled the air — short gasps and labored pants accompanied by the constant shuffling of fabric. “Aemond,” You moaned, watching as he bit the leather of his glove, removing the garment in one jerk of his head. Flesh to flesh, he moved to drag his digits along your weeping slit. “Aemond.” Urgency crept into your voice, strung-out by need.
“Hm,” His cajoling hum sent shivers down your spine, heat sloshing around within your stomach. Arousal pooled between your thighs, nectar sticky and gathering swiftly. “What a delicious gift you’ve given me.” Aemond uttered, slender digits continuing to stroke at your cunt, his pace agonizingly slow.
Lifting his fingers to his lips, he let them rest upon his tongue, gathering your juices to taste. A satisfied grunt of approval escaped him, one that made you meld into the floor. It was an uncomfortable surface, yet any thought of discomfort dissipated the moment Aemond’s lips pressed against the inside of your knee.
Instinctively, your hands flew toward his crown of silken tresses, digging in with an ironclad hold. Aemond released a low hiss of satisfaction, pressing hot kisses along the inside of your thigh. He dipped lower, breath fanning across your cunt.
His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.
“Aemond!” Your voice rose above the cacophony of lewd noises ensuing below, noisy enough to reverberate throughout the throne room. It worried you, the potential of someone finding you with the Prince-Regent between your legs, but pleasure began to outweigh logic.
His name felt sweet from your mouth — if Aemond had it his way, he would make you say it a thousand times over. The sharp bridge of his nose buried itself into your mound, cock twitching within the leather of his breeches.
Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.
The Iron Throne overshadowed the both of you, a jagged mess of swords surrounded by dusk. Slats of moonlight trickled in from the stained glass above, falling across his visage, violet hue sparkling with lust. His lips greedily kissed at your clit, causing your hips to lurch forward.
“Look at me.” A pointed demand spoken from an edged tongue, one that commanded your attention without wavering. With a strangled moan, you turned your head to him, furthering the fire within your belly. Your doe-eyed stare locked onto him, lips falling apart.
As your eyes flickered over his poised features, your hand tightened within his tresses, coaxing him closer toward the apex of your thighs. Aemond wasn’t sly at suppressing the delight he felt in that moment, greedily lapping at your cunt.
You watched, enthralled by the ministrations of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the tantalizing efforts made to draw you back in. His features were carved like marble, by the steady hand of a sculptor — godly, in the best way possible.
Aemond hoped that your blissful cries would alert the guards — perhaps, all could bear witness to his carnal delights, know that you belonged to him and him alone. His lips crawled to a sluggish pace, made only to torment you as he peppered feather-light kisses against your clit. The lack of pressure nearly made you wretch, digits curling into a fist.
Every fiber of your being felt as if it had been set ablaze, washed within the fires of his affection. He knew your body well, as well as he knew his own, tongue dipping to have a taste of your core as it lightly jutted against your entrance. You whimpered, the noise pathetic and pitiful, yet overwhelmingly eager.
“Please,” You moaned, breathy and clawing for some shred of release, canting your hips forward. Aemond retreated, just enough to leave you writing upon the steps before a sly chuckle reverberated between your thighs. His torture of you was playful and intimate, intended to make you beg. “Please, Aemond!”
How could he deny you when you sounded so sweet?
With a soft hum, Aemond returned to devour your cunt, drink from the nectar that oozed between your legs. His hands situated themselves against your thighs, nails digging in enough to leave behind traces of angered crescent marks.
The heat between your legs intensified, arousal stinging your bones, body bent underneath Aemond’s will as he lapped at your core. His lips were accompanied by his spindly digits as two fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling the crescendo of your whimpers before sinking themselves into your tight cunt.
Squelching intermingled with that of brazen pants and your myriad of moans, a cacophony of lust that permeated the throne room. It felt sinful, to defile the steps of a seat of power, but that shame swiftly contorted into bliss — it felt good.
It felt good to be desired, for Aemond to feel not an ounce of regret or remorse for being with you or for the carnage his actions wrought. The darkness that festered within his eye only grew, once a flickering shade, now growing into something sprawling.
At last, his lips pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your back arched from the stone, thighs rattling like falling leaves as he brought about your ruin. His digits viciously pumped in and out of your cunt, preparing you for the act that was to follow.
His tongue lashed across his lower lip, not wasting a drop of what sweetness you provided him with. Aemond’s mouth hastily abandoned your cunt, yet the curling of his fingers seemed to make up for the loss of pleasure. You felt his wet lips purse around the pebbled peak of your breast, suckling like a greedy babe.
Aemond’s senses drowned in desire, cock throbbing within his trousers, desperate to be inside of you. It wouldn’t be much longer now as he bit and kissed your chest, letting the work manifest as love bites, evidence of his carnal want for you.
“I need you, Aemond. I need you inside of me.” The suddenness of your words left him reeling, a snarl stirring within his chest as his teeth gnashed into the soft flesh between your breasts. You longed to feel his cock lay waste to your cunt, for him to fuck away his anger, his frustration.
Hastily, his hand flew to the ties of his breeches, loosening the threads of leather. You grabbed the front of his tunic, enough to effectively grab his attention as you pulled him in for a hot kiss. Passion bled through, and you could taste yourself upon his tongue as it danced with yours.
The warmth of his cockhead prodded against your folds, already slick with your cum and his own. It was messy, an entanglement born of desire, of the will to possess one another — a claim eternal. Aemond’s hand snaked toward your hip, the other keeping himself afloat before he snapped forward.
His cock invaded your cunt without any sluggishness to it, the deliberation gone entirely. A wild shimmer glistened within his eye, a domineering edge that seemed to wrestle with itself. Aemond wanted to submit to you, but in the wake of Rook’s Rest, adrenaline and a desire for power simply wouldn’t allow it.
As he fucked you like a hound, as Aegon had colorfully put it, Aemond could see you seated beside him, a crown upon your brow, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A commoner, crawled from dirt and from nothing, into his arms — into a seat of power that none would dare challenge.
Fantasy consumed him, making him mad with lust. He wanted to crawl beneath your flesh, reside there, hear your heart hammering within your breast. He seemed pleasantly surprised when you claimed his mouth, your tongue advancing past his parted lips.
With your skirts having fallen to the swell of your hips, you hitched one leg around him, hand clawing at his back, between his shoulders. “Aemond,” You moaned, overwhelmed by his barrage of erratic thrusts. His stamina was something to witness as he kept a rather vigorous pace. “My King.”
A low growl stirred within his throat, a stark warning not to continue with your current line of thought. Aemond bit at your lower lip, prompting you to moan into his mouth, but you surprised him again when you reciprocated. Things were intense, far more fiery than they ever had been before.
Battle made him hot — such a sensation wasn’t aided by your presence, intensified tenfold. With Aegon wasting away inside of his chambers, steel melting into his flesh, swarmed by flocks of Maesters, Aemond felt no remorse — none at all as he fucked you before the Iron Throne.
He felt no remorse when he ordered Vhagar to burn his brother, he felt no remorse when he brought you into his bed — and he would feel no remorse when he ascended the throne and made you his Queen.
His cock furiously battered away at your cunt, the lewdness of flesh and intermingled breaths being the only sounds that mattered. That lilac hue of his studied your countenance, the devotion and rapture that rest upon it, your complete and utter joy. Aemond had been blessed with the loveliest creature — you.
The stretch you felt as Aemond invaded your nethers was a pleasant one, your walls tight around his length as he continued to fuck you. Face to face, chest to chest — there was no room left for deception, nowhere left to turn to. With a groan, Aemond kissed you yet again.
“Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuha dāria.” I will make you my Queen; he growled into your ear, biting at the shell, the act enough to make you whimper. He filled your cunt with his cock, the only one that it would ever take. In the heat of the moment, he bit at your neck, hand gripping your thigh so hard that it was bound to leave bruises.
Darkness swallowed the hallowed halls — braziers flickering out completely, leaving only moonlight. Even through the silvery haze, Aemond’s face remained a picture of living perfection, his brow creased with concentration.
The fervor of his pace began to slow, cock throbbing with an onslaught of arousal, one that flooded his body with waves of bliss. He wasn’t neglectful of your needs, swiftly placing a hand between your bodies, thumb rubbing circles around your clit.
Heavy footfalls of guardsmen resonated from outside of the sealed doors, a nightly patrol, prompting you to shiver from worry, but Aemond did not stop — and he wouldn’t. His blazing eye bared down upon you, glistening with the sheen of lust, of obsession, a man starved of the love and devotion he so desperately chased.
Your lips felt swollen, a byproduct of Aemond’s biting, of the many shared kisses that had turned into hunger. You were ravenous for him in ways that you had little knowledge of, scraping the surface of what desire truly meant.
Silky, pale tresses fell through your digits as you threaded them within his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as you continued to kiss him until every wisp of air was stolen from your lungs. Aemond did not relent, continuing to adopt a rhythmic pace of fucking you, cock halfway out before he thrust forward again and again.
As the both of you approached the precipice, falling into a white-hot abyss, you could hear him murmuring something in High Valyrian, strings of sweet praises and compliments. His thumb continued to circle your clit even after you had your release, milking his cock with an onslaught of your nectar.
Aemond grunted, forehead nudging against yours as he snapped forward one final time, cock sheathed inside of you as he found a warm place to spill his seed. The recklessness of it was of little consequence to him — an herbal tea could remedy it, yet the thought of filling you with an heir became tantalizing.
Not yet — not now.
If his seed were to take, it would sow discord across his house, and there was enough of that already. Aemond huffed, gathering his composure as your whimpers dwindled into soft pants. His claws sank so deep into you, talons wrenched into your heart, your body, everything.
He placed a kiss upon your brow, a subtle gesture that reminded you of his lingering duality. Aemond pulled himself out of you with an onslaught of stickiness, a mess that would only be remedied by a long soak in the bath — something he would need you for.
Your chest felt tight, both from exhilaration and the intensity of it all. As you adjusted your skirts back into place, Aemond gently coaxed you to your feet, pressed close against you as he stared at the throne. “Perhaps, once I ascend, we will have to make use of the throne.” His salacious purr made you shudder.
“There is no law forbidding us from acting upon that now,” You challenged, and Aemond had to restrain himself from acting upon such a lascivious impulse. For as coy as you could be, you were just as lustful as he was at times, a quality that he greatly adored. “Your Grace.”
As much as the teasing title seemed to provoke him, Aemond grabbed your hips, lips twitching into his familiar smirk, a near-permanent expression. “Aemond,” He corrected, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “For now, I will need assistance with drawing a bath.”
The Throne’s harrowing shape cast its shadow as the both of you abandoned the dark halls and into the light of Aemond’s chambers.
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connorsui · 17 days
Text
In Your Arms
Zayne x reader
Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...
Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official
Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...
w.c: 1,070
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Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.
The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.
“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.
“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.
“I would like to first apologize to you …” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.
Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”
“I just know I haven’t been around much.”
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”
He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”
The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.
“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”
He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”
The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.
“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”
He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.
“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.
“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”
His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.
When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.
Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.
“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.
Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”
You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”
As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.
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Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need
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rizsu · 11 months
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ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.
ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.
ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.
ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.
ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.
"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.
ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.
"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."
ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.
ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"
you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"
"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."
and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."
ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?
ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"
ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.
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