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aegonstradwife · 2 months

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conception | aegon targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aegon have 4 daughters. while aegon is in a meeting they discuss the fact that the king doesn’t yet have a male heir. otto suggests aegon taking a second wife to have a chance at producing an heir. it pisses aegon off that otto would even suggest that.

warnings: talk of general misogyny, established relationship, smut. (riding, creampie.)

a. note: link to the original request.

It's a warm day, perfect for taking the girls out to play in the courtyard. They are glad to be free of their daily lessons, and you of your queenly duties.

One day away from such responsibilities couldn't hurt, and the sun shining down on your grouping had you in higher spirits than you had been for months.

Until you spied your husband stalking his way through the corridor toward you.

Initially, you lit up as you saw Aegon, as did your daughters upon seeing their father; he is so often away from them in council meetings or tending to other kingly duties.

For Aegon, seeing his wife and daughters makes him happier than he's been all day. It's a rare sight, seeing him smile so warmly, especially these days. But sadly, it doesn't last long.

The girls may not notice, as Aegon scoops the youngest into his arms, but you sure as hells do.

That menacing look, the red rimming his eyes. Telltale signs that Aegon isn't feeling his best, which unfortunately have been more prevalent of late.

"Aegon?" You lay a hand on your husband's arm, squeezing. "What's the matter, love?"

His violet eyes lay upon your hand squeezing his arm, and he tries to keep his terrible mood in check, so as not to take it out on you or the children. "There's nothing wrong, my dear."

But he refuses to meet your gaze as he presses a kiss to your daughter's forehead.

"Nothing?" You raise your brows, studying him. Something is wrong. Perhaps something you'd better not discuss around the girls....

"Ladies, why don't we break for lunch?" You announce, herding your daughters to one of the maids nearby.

With one last kiss to her chubby cheek, Aegon sets the youngest down and allows her to waddle off with the rest to the kitchens.

"Talk to me, my love." Once alone, you run your hands up Aegon's arms to his shoulders, kneading. "What happened? I thought you were meant to be at council all day...."

The king grumbles, frustrated to be questioned by you, but at the same time relishing the feeling of your talented hands kneading the tension out of his shoulders. Of which there is a lot.

His gaze meets yours, and there's a hint of annoyance in it, though whether at you or other matters, you can't initially tell.

".... Otto has brought a most pressing matter to the council today."

The breath he takes next is measured, trying to keep his composure, though he finds doing so much easier in your presence.

"What?" You frown, any number of terrible things flashing through your mind. All of them ending with the palace in rubble, your family ruined as Rhaenyra takes the throne. "Is it her? What awful thing has she done now?"

You dig your fingers ferociously into Aegon's shoulders.

A small pained noise escapes him, though he tries not to wince as he places his hands over yours to loosen your grip.

"It's not Rhaenyra." He continues to stare at you, his eyes full of an exhaustion you wish you could wipe away. "It's Otto."

You smooth your fingers apologetically over his shoulders, soothing the hurt. "So you said. What did he say?"

Aegon closes his eyes, that furrow between his brows relaxing for just a moment, as your fingers stroke him, before returning. He pauses, unsure how you're going to take the words that must next fall from his lips. Knowing they might hurt you. "He said we need a son, that we desperately need a son and soon...."

Your stomach falls. You knew this was coming - for years now you've only been able to produce girls. With every birth, Aegon's joy only grew, and your worry along with it.

What if you couldn't produce an heir at all? What if -

"We'll keep trying," you say resolutely. "I know I can give you a son. Just let's keep trying, please...."

"That's not all that was mentioned." It looks like it physically pains Aegon to tell you this. "The matter of a second wife was also raised, to try and help produce a male heir...."

You know husbands - especially kings - often take second wives when the first is unable to birth a son. Gods, it will about kill you if Aegon turns to that ...

At a loss for what to say, and feeling tears threatening to spill if you utter so much as a word, you cling speechlessly to Aegon, hoping for him to make it all better.

His hand is under your chin, cupping gently, forcing you to look at him. "But.... what if.... what if I don't care for a son?"

Shaken by this declaration, all thoughts of crying banished in worry, you clap a hand over your husband's mouth and glance around for any passing servants. "Do not say that, Aegon! What if someone were to hear...?"

A determined hand encircling your wrist, he pulls your fingers gently from his mouth, a grave look on his face. "And if they did? Why is it so important they think we care about a son? Why.... why couldn't one of our daughters be queen? Rhaenyra seems to think she has some claim to the throne. Why not our eldest?"

That intense stare does not waiver as he continues to peer at you.

"Aegon, please, not here..."

The cogs in your head are turning, as you grab him by the hand and pull him along into a spare room, Aegon following silently along.

It seems he, too, is thinking about what he's just said as he closes the door behind you. His expression is still earnest when he turns to face you.

You turn to face him at the same time, arms crossed. "You're saying you would name Syryn as your successor, as queen?"

"Yes," comes his simple yet fervent reply. "If Rhaenyra believes Viserys named her heir, then surely I can do the same?"

You chew thoughtfully at your cheek. "Otto will never accept it. I doubt the smallfolk would either. Isn't that why we're in this situation in the first place?"

"You think they won't accept it?" Aegon asks, cornering you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I'll make them accept it. I'm the king, damnit. I don't want a son, I don't need a son. I have everything I need already."

The conviction with which he says it almost makes you believe it. "And.... you don't want to at least keep trying? For a son? Or even another daughter?"

Seeing your husband all worked up like this is making you feel.... things.

Aegon notices the immediate change in your expression, the way you look at him, your need for him.

"We will keep trying.... but not because I want a son."

His hands relinquish their hold on your shoulders to instead grab for your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you flush against him. That earnest look in his eyes is now dark with desire, gaze roaming hungrily over your body.

Your hands come to sweetly cradle his jaw, humming contentedly as your body is pulled to his. "I love hearing you talk about our family this way. I love knowing you love us and will do anything to protect us, as king."

Twining a lock of his hair around your finger, you look up at him through your lashes. "I would love to give you another child, Aegon. Son or daughter."

He purrs as your fingers weave further into his hair, his hands tightening their grasp on your hips, pulling you ever - impossibly - closer.

Aegon leans down, breath hot against your ear, and breathes, "Then you'd better be prepared to keep trying.... over, and over and over again."

You can't help but grin, ecstatic at Aegon's joy over your family. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and kiss him; a biting kiss, teeth clashing, tongues sliding over each other.

"We should try now," you gasp, tugging at the back of Aegon's jacket. "While the girls are at lunch and you have some time away from the council."

Aegon groans agonizingly into your mouth before he pulls away, gaze now even darker.

"Such a desperate little thing, aren't you? Wanting to take advantage of your husband while he can spare the time," he teases, pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside.

Even just those words - Aegon calling you desperate, seeing you for what you truly are - are enough to make your legs tremble.

"Oh please, Aegon. Right here, I need it here."

The room you've found yourselves in is bare, with naught more than a fireplace and a few suits of armor dotting the perimeter.

As such, you pull him back toward the wall and lean yourself against it, fingers dipping under the collar of his exposed tunic. "I need to feel you, my king."

Aegon presses you back against the wall, your back aligning with the cool stones, his body now pressed firmly against yours. His lips find your neck with a huff of hot air, kissing and nibbling, hands grabbing for every bit of you they can reach.

"You're always so needy, so desperate," he mutters. "I'll give you what you need, my wife. I'll give you everything you desire."

As his hands work their way over you, yours do the same over him. His body has the perfect amount of cushion to it - being held against him is the most comfortable feeling in the world.

"Aegon...." You whisper, lifting a leg to wrap it high around his waist. "Give me another child. Please."

A deep growl escapes him at the wrap of your leg around him and he presses forward, wanting to make sure you can feel every searing inch of him against you.

"You want another child, do you?" His lips blaze a scorching path to the collar of your dress, which he tugs out of the way with his teeth. "You want me to fill you up and give you what you need?"

In a hurry to have him inside of you, you gather your skirts and pull them up with a quick nod. "Let's not waste too much time. Someone will be looking for one of us sooner or later."

He whines as your gown is hiked up, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of your legs and the heat between them. He runs his hands over those legs, leaving burning trails in their wake.

"So impatient," he murmurs, "but I have to agree with you."

He hunches down, positioning himself properly between your legs, and curls his hands around the backs of your thighs. "Wrap your legs around my waist, love, and hold on tight."

With your back still anchored against the wall, you wrap your legs tightly around your husband's hips and allow him to lift you from the ground. Your hands are still moving all over him, eventually skimming down to his trousers, which you start to undo the buckle of.

Aegon grunts his approval, allowing you to unbuckle his breeches. His gaze never leaves yours, though, as his breaths grow shallow.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me one day," he sighs, hands squeezing at your thighs. "You always know how to drive me absolutely wild."

At this angle, it's hard to get your hand all the way inside the opening of Aegon's pants. But you do manage to circle your fingers haphazardly around your husband's half-hard cock and give him a few solid pumps to bring him to full hardness.

"And the way to drive you wild is to ask you to fill me full of your babies, isn't it, Aegon?"

His breath hitches at the feeling of your hand around him, a frustrated groan falling from his lips. His entire body quivers with desire as he leans in. "You know me too well. The thought of filling you with my seed, of giving you more children.... it's enough to drive any man wild."

"Any man?" You 'tsk.' "Doesn't the thought of just 'any' man getting me pregnant make you jealous, my king?"

With your legs already around his hips, it's hard to get the waist of his trousers low enough to allow his erection to pop out and Aegon has to help you, shoving the constricting material down so that the head of his cock can nudge at your folds. "I'm wet for you.... can you feel it?"

Though he doesn't say it aloud, he feels a sharp pang of jealousy at your words, a possessive need surging through him. He growls, hands gripping your thighs even tighter, eyes practically blazing with desire.

"Don't play with me. I know you're teasing, but it's enough to make me lose control." He leans in even closer, breath blistering against your skin. "Put me inside, my love. Let me feel you."

Arching your back away from the wall, you position yourself so that Aegon's cockhead is pressing insistently at your opening. "…. should I make you beg to fill me up?"

That simple question sets his body quivering with yearning for you. His fingers dig into your skin as he tries to hold on to his composure, but failing all the while.

"Please…." He groans, his voice low and hoarse. "Please, my love, let me fill you up. I need it, I need you."

"Good boy," you sigh, and after a quick peck of a kiss to his nose, you begin to relax the muscles in your back, allowing your wet cunt to slide down on Aegon's cock, welcoming him inside of you.

Aegon's eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure at the feeling of your warm, wet heat around him. With a sharp inhale, he redoubles his hold on your thighs, pulling you down onto him as he begins to move with you, matching your rhythm perfectly. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your moan and Aegon's desperate grunts. Aegon's face finds your neck again as he continues to drag you down onto him with abandon, deeper and harder with each thrust.

"You feel so good, my love." His voice is tremulous, hands beginning to shake where they hold you up. "I'm not going to stop until I get you pregnant again."

And it all feels so dirty, the hem of your gown trapped around your waist as your husband pulls you down by your hips, driving himself into you. Your hands try to grapple for purchase at the wall beside your head, but then settle for resting your wrists at Aegon's shoulders, tips of your fingers clawing and scratching at the back of his neck.

"Please, Aegon…we don't have long. Someone might come looking soon…" At this point, you don't even care if you climax, as long as Aegon's seed finds its home deep inside of you.

In response, Aegon nods, hips now moving even faster as he feels your nails digging into his neck. He can feel his own release building, evidenced by the way his chest heaves and his face has gone pink all over. The need to give you what you want is overwhelming for him.

"D-Don't worry, my love," he gasps. "I won't last long like this."

And with that, he gives one final, powerful thrust, burying himself deep as he empties himself inside of you, shouting your name like a war cry.

There are few things in this world you enjoy more than the feeling of Aegon's warm seed splashing inside of you. You hum, eyes rolling back, as the king spends himself inside you.

He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest. "I love you," he gasps, with a kiss to your temple. "And I love our daughters. Fuck a male heir. Syryn will be queen."

Capturing his lips in another kiss, you run your hands gladly up and down his chest. "Syryn will make a great queen. She already bosses the other girls around like it's her job."

Aegon chuckles, pulling back to look down at you with a gleam in his eye. "I think she takes after her mother in that regard."

#aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon #tom glynn carney x reader #tom glynn carney #aegonstradwife #smut #my writing #request fill #aegon targaryen

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atlabeth · 5 months

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pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it.

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments.

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.”

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.”

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.”

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.”

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him.

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?”

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.”

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.”

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says.

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?”

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.”

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something.

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.”

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep.

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks.

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.”

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity.

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses.

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.”

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him.

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly.

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.”

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?”

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus.

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel.

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent.

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses.

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?”

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?”

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.”

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.”

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this.

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.”

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.”

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks.

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?”

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves.

“That’s ridiculous.”

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.”

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.”

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.”

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.”

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.”

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.”

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?”

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.”

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today.

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?”

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.”

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.”

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.”

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here.

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.”

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here.

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“Really?”

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.”

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning.

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says.

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!”

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.”

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.”

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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mournings-stars · 7 months

Text

adam's wings

this is the adam smut i was talking about... it was originally gonna come after a mini fic but i couldn't figure out how to end the fic so yall can have this smut

all you need to know is adam's had a massive crush on the reader (fem!reader) for like 5+ years and in the last extermination her wings get got (poor you)

I'll publish the fic eventually but enjoy this man being pathetic and a switch (also i hardly write male smut so i hope it's good :))

Life without your wings was something you were just going to have to get used to. It was awful, for the most part, and when it wasn’t it was tolerable. Instead of flying, you and Lute walked in the mornings… you had to use stairs, and you had to ask for help getting things that were too high — of course, Adam liked when you asked him to get things. It boosted his already massive ego now that you were spending more time together.

Instead of a yearly lunch and dinner after extermination with casual work conversation in between, you had lunch once a week and found yourselves talking often.

Like today; you weren’t expecting anyone, but Adam brought it upon himself to come to your apartment. He appeared on your balcony, knocking on the glass doors impatiently until you opened them, confused.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“You could sound a little happier, dude,” he scoffed as he held out a bag. “I brought you food.”

“Sorry knocking at my window freaked me out, dude.” You rolled your eyes as you took the bag. “Are we having lunch together?”

Your excited face made him frown and you quickly understood that no, you were not having lunch because he was always busy doing the job you used to help with.

“Hey, don’t look so down, angel.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “If you’re still up, I’ll stop by for dinner.”

“Just wake me up—“

“No can do, sugar tits,” you rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Doc says you still need rest.”

“Ugh! Fuck the doctor!” You tossed the food on your coffee table, making him yell “hey!” “Sorry.”

“I used my piss break to get you that!”

“I said sorry! I’m sorry. Thank you for the food.” He huffed, looking at the discarded bag. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You’ve been in such a fucking mood, babe.” He brought his hands to your hips, pulling you up against him. “What happened? You were doing fine without…” His hands traveled to your lower back, then further up, making you wince. “Have you been resting?”

“Don’t baby me. I don’t need rest — I need my fucking wings back—“

“Sh, sh, sh,” he cooed, head lowering to your neck. “Watch your fucking mouth.” The cool mouth of his mask grazed your skin as his fingers traced down the line of your spine, making you inhale sharply and arch toward him. He took that opportunity to hold you tighter. “I can make you feel better, angel… Do you want me to?” His lips pressed against your neck, much more tender than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t mind having to ease in.

“How much longer is your break?”

“Ended five minutes ago, but who gives a shit?” He laughed as his kisses on your neck became more forceful. “I’ll tell them you needed my help… that you begged me to stay… I’ll say I couldn’t fucking resist you…” He licked a stripe up your neck, making you shudder. “I just had to help… It’s the angelic thing to do—“

“Adam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He was biting down on your neck.

“Bedroom,” was all you had to say for him to suck the darkest fucking hickey onto your skin.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Before you could turn away from him, he lifted you up and took you to your room, setting you on the bed before you pulled him on top of you. You got his mask off as quickly as possible, accidentally leaving the horns, but you didn't care.

“You look kinda sexy with horns,” you said as you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his.

“Kinda?” He laughed into the kiss.

“Mmm… Really sexy.” He groaned when your hands caressed the horns, gripping them and forcing his head at the angle you wanted. “Yeah. I could get used to this.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned, eagerly pushing his hips up against yours and shoving his tongue in your mouth with so much haste you had to pull back.

“I don’t want a quickie today—” you started, speaking against his forceful lips.

“Yeah, sure, angel, whatever you want,” he impatiently got his mouth back on yours, hands pulling you against him harshly.

“Stay with me today… You can work from home, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something. Just shut up.” But then he paused. “Home?” He asked. “With you?”

It was times like these where you remembered he’d been crushing on you for at least five years. You laughed. “Figure of speech, darling—“

“Oh, right, right.” He was quick to get his mouth back on yours.

“But…” You tried to speak between kisses. “I wouldn’t mind — you — coming home — to me every night — like this—“

“You’re making me hard as fuck. Stop talking.” You did as he asked, but reached your hand down to grope him. Before you could, he grabbed your hand and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said quickly before bringing his mouth back to your neck to suck bruises on to.

But you wanted to touch him, and as your half-lidded eyes looked at what you could touch, your hands reached for his golden wings. Your fingertips stroked the tops of them, feeling just how delicate they were. They were soft, fragile, and utterly beautiful. Your hands traveled down to the base of them, fingers tracing around the feathers with gentle pressure.

Adam froze on top of you, cutting off his kisses with a strained moan as he shuddered, hips jerking and eyes fluttering. “F-ah-fuck, oh my… fuck,” he whined as you continued your gentle touches to his wings. His hands gripped you harder, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care when you had his head buried in the crook of your neck as he whined in your ear, hips thrusting up against nothing to try and get some kind of relief. “Baby… your gonna — fuck — you gotta stop — it’s — ah, fuck.” He was trying to push your hips down so he could at least grind against you as you tortured him like this, but he couldn’t pull himself together enough to get it right.

“Shh, baby, I got you… You like that?” He sunk his teeth into your shoulder when you spoke, moaning against you. “Let me help,” you laughed, stopping momentarily to get his and your robes off.

He couldn’t even give you foreplay if he wanted to right now. He just needed to be inside you.

That’s exactly what you let him do. You got both your undergarments off as he lazily kissed your shoulder and reached down, guiding him between your legs. You inhaled, moaning when he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you up and making his hips twitch with how wet and ready you were for him. Your legs went around his waist as he rocked his hips and your hands went back to his back.

As soon as you touched his wings again, his hips were snapping against yours and he was muttering incoherently, “fuck, baby.” “Needa be inside you.” “So good.” “Want you even more.” “Don’t stop.”

When you started whining in his ear as he buried himself inside you just to grind against you, massaging that soft spot just above your cervix and making your cunt tighten around him, he completely lost it. He didn’t hold back on his loud moaning, desperate licking, or harsh biting for anything. He left your neck, shoulders, and collarbones a discolored mess as his hands found your breasts and groped. He pinched your nipples, rolling and twisting harsh enough to get you arching into him, but gentle enough to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“You’re all mine,” he panted into your neck, kissing up to your cheek in an effort to find your lips. “No one else can have you… You can’t — ah — you can’t let anyone else touch you. I’d have to fucking kill them,” that, he said clear as day, making you moan his name. “No one’s ever gonna hurt my angel again… Never.” Finally, his mouth found yours and his rough kisses had you gasping for breath as if he’d just threatened you and not the entire world outside of this room.

His hips didn’t stop, but the more you felt up his wings, the sloppier he got. “Fuck,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Need more of you.” He brought one hand by your head, pushing himself up and getting your dangerously pleasuring hands away from his wings as his other hand went between you and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hips back before thrusting into you, making your eyes roll back as you turned to the side to bury your face in your pillow. “There it is.” He held you in place, hitting that same spot with each thrust and making you tighten around him. “That's it… That's my girl.”

You fisted the sheets, moaning loudly into your pillow. Adam grabbed you by the neck, using his fingers to turn your head toward him. “Let me hear you,” he said, voice still whiny from the way you were touching him and making your stomach flutter. “You’ve been feeling me up this whole fucking time, it’s time for my reward, yeah?” You nodded, never breaking eye contact, and he smiled. “Good fucking girl.”

His hand went down to your hips, resting on your lower stomach and pressing down to make you groan. His thumb moved to your clit, pressing down to feel you pulse against him. He laughed. “I knew you fucking needed me. Little attitude’s all fucking gone now, huh?” He circled his thumb, thrusting into you at the same excruciatingly slow pace. “Thought you’d have me like this, didn’t you, angel? All fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck you—“ You whined, trying to sound mad and failing — how he’d completely flipped the situation was beyond you, but you didn’t care when you felt like this. Of course, that wouldn’t stop you from running your mouth. (Or getting him back later).

“Shut up and take it, bitch— oh! Shit, that was kinda mean. Fuck, sorry babe.” He leaned down, kissing you quick and making you laugh as your hands reached up to his face to keep kissing him. “I didn’t mean that.” But when you kept laughing, he quickly told you to, “shut up,” again, then, “you sound really fucking pretty, so don’t actually.”

“Adam,” you warned, hand reaching down toward his wings. “You’re the one that needs to shut up—“

“No fucking way.” He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, picking his pace back up and making the bed knock against the wall with how rough he was being. “You and your pretty little hands are dangerous, angel… Gotta put you back in your place.” He brought his hand to the back of your thigh, pushing it up by your side to get even deeper.

That and so he could watch your cunt taking him. His gaze alone made your legs shake, your moaning picking back up. He got the hint, pushing himself deeper and grinding against you until you were so tight around him that he could hardly move.

But he did anyway, fucking into you harder and faster as his hands held your squirming hips still. He moaned at the way you tightened around him, your hands pushing at his hips to get him to stop overstimulating you as you came, but that did nothing but turn him on as you moaned his name like a fucking prayer, back arching and hips writhing on the sheets as your hands settled to grip his wrists and your eyes shut in pure bliss.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he mocked your words from earlier, making your eyes screw shut as you tightened around him again. That made him shudder, his hips twitching as he thrusted sharply, his orgasm filling you up and dripping out of you as his eyes shut and hands moved to grip yours, pinning them to the bed.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you with a cocky smile. “Fuck, you look good like this,” he said, hands squeezing yours. “How’s it feel having the—“

“If you say anything about your ‘first dick,’ I’ll kill you,” you said breathlessly, cutting him off before he could start and making him roll his eyes. “But… it feels really fucking good—“ “That’s my fucking girl!”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #adam smut #hazbin smut #hazbin blurb #hazbin imagine #hazbin drabble

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

Note

Hey! I absolutely love your writing! could you maybe write something about Tom x reader. Where she’s working with Josh on a new film? So him and Rachel go to visit on set and he’s a fan? I feel that would be so cute 🥹🫶

Little Visit || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: look at these lil cute gifs I made of Tom, Josh and Rachel 🥹 I love their friendship. And thank you Anon for this request! I imagined them filming Lady Chatterley’s Lover !!! Reading this back, it’s adorable. 3/4? Fics I’m planning to post today!

Warnings: none :)

Wc: 695

Divider by @pommecita

“Andddd cut!” The director calls out as you let out a sigh of relief, stretching your body as a loud groan escapes your lips. After an exhausting day of non stop filming of your solo scenes, all you felt doing was crashing into the comfort of your bed in your trailer and face time your boyfriend Tom.

As you pack up your things that your brought along with you, Stacey, your assistant, comes up to you. “You have a few visitors,” She says in a sing song voice as you immediately furrow your eyebrows.

“Really?” You say as she hums. You sling your tote bag over your shoulder and follow her as you put your hair into a hair clip. From afar, you could see two guys, one with familiar hair.

You immediately smile knowing who it was as you hurriedly walk to them, a bounce in your step. You open your arms as you squeal seeing the two of them. “Hey sweetheart,” Tom says as you engulf the two in a tight hug.

You wrap your arms around Tom and Josh’s body as the wrap theirs around your frame, both of them rubbing your back knowing how much you love it when people do that.

Although you saw Josh practically everyday because you two were the main characters to the movie you were filming, you were still so happy to see him after a day of not hearing his jokes.

And of course, you were beyond happy seeing Tom again. The last time you saw him in person was 2 weeks ago when he came down to set to visit. Although you were absolutely tired and wished nothing but to shower and lay in bed, seeing your boyfriend and best friend was even better.

You rock the two side to side as you all laugh. As you pull back, you hear a feminine voice call out. “Y/n!” The boys look back as you look in between them. Your eyes lit up, “Rachel!” You squeal as you both run to each other. You had not seen Rachel in the longest time, probably 2 months after the world promo tour came to an end for tbosas.

“She looks happier to see her than us, huh?” Josh jokes as Tom laughs, digging his hands in his pockets as he watches the two of you embrace in a hug, nearly falling over in the process as Josh snaps a few photos of the two of you.

You walked hand in hand with Tom to your trailer, Josh and Rachel behind the two of you. “I’m going to shower, I’ll be back,” You announced as you kiss Tom’s lips before disappearing in your bathroom. The hot water immediately relaxed your bones as you let out a light moan at the feeling.

You came out in your silk pyjamas as it was slowly turning dark outside. The four of you chilled in your trailer, catching up with things before Rachel and Josh decide to go back to his trailer for the night.

“I’ve missed you,” A slight pout makes it your lips as you go on your tippy toes, hooking your arms around Tom’s neck as he breathes your scent that he missed in. “I know, I missed you too,” He mumbles in your hair.

You sit on your boyfriend’s lap as the two of you go through your camera roll from past month or so since you started filming the new movie with Josh.

You tell him the stories behind the pictures as he would watch you intently, a smile on his lips at the sight of you so engrossed in it. “Oh and this one, I was sneezing so much that my eyes were becoming watery so the director decided to start filming the sad scenes,” You laugh as you recall the daisies that Josh would present to you made you highly allergic.

Tom smiles at you lovingly, thinking how lucky he was to have you. “What?” You shyly smile, feeling his stare. “Nothing, you’re just so adorable,” He admits, pulling you to his chest as you let out a small giggle as he kisses your forehead.

#tom blyth #fanfiction #tom blyth x actress!reader #josh andres rivera #rachel zegler #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth fanfiction #social media au #social media #lucy gray x coriolanus #the hunger games #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes

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theemporium · 6 months

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Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.

It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship.

He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.

And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.

Until he met you.

The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.

Luke was the first to notice something really odd.

“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.”

And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”

And then it was Nico.

“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.”

It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.

But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes.

It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.

“Are those your own skates?”

You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.

“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”

“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.

“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes.

“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?”

You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head.

“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”

Ellen simply smiled in response.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression.

“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.

“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.

You watched him closely. “Jack?”

“Hm?”

“How much did these skates cost?”

The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over.

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up.

“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”

His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”

“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”

“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.

You shot him a look.

“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”

“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”

Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”

#jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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neptuneiris · 11 months

Text

Behind the Scenes (01/05)

Behind the Reencounter

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: Due to your work as a make-up artist and wardrobe assistant, you meet Aemond, a very successful young actor with whom you work and all professional relationship breaks down and a secret relationship arises, until you get pregnant and decide to run away from him so as not to ruin his successful and promising career. After almost two years, you and he unexpectedly meet again.

word counter: 7.6k

series masterlist • next part

hello! i'm back with another mini series! yay!

god, i'm so excited about this, it's nothing like what i've written before but the excitement and inspiration got the better of me.

also i must say that i had seen stories with this plot about daddy aemond and i wanted to make my own, adding angst, which i know you like and a story that i came up with that i really hope you like a lot:)

without more to say, enjoy beautiful people, I look forward to your comments, don't leave me without knowing what you think please!

warnings: angst, language, sexual content, smut

Your state of nervousness and anticipation is not much of help when it comes to the first day of your new job.

The film studio is a world of constant activity and you know that just on your first day it's going to be hectic. At least in your area which is Wardrobe and Makeup, it's a completely active area and you have to be available almost all the time.

You let out a long breath and before you leave, you stop in the studio's small nursery where your son, Aenar, barely a year old, spends his day while you work on set.

You can't help but watch him with adoration, a certain sadness and longing, for nothing would make you happier than to stay here with him, but you know you can't afford it.

These last few months have been hard, your income has been complicated and you need the money from this new job to be able to survive and make sure nothing is missing for him, your little boy.

Aenar crawls on the floor, exploring the world around him, while the woman in charge keeps her distance from you and him, taking care of other children. And when his big, curious blue eyes look up at you, he lets out a giggle of joy and stretches out his arms to you.

You bend down with him and take him in your arms tenderly and adoringly.

"You don't want me to leave, do you?" you murmur fondly as you leave a kiss on his cheek.

He babbles excitedly, unable to formulate coherent words, but his smile completely lights up your insides and you respond with giggles and smiles.

You take advantage of the little time you have before work to play and laugh with him for a moment. But eventually your time to leave arrives.

You leave a kiss on his forehead and with a sigh of defeat, you say goodbye.

"Mommy has to go but she'll be back soon, okay, my little dragon?"

His little hands explore for a second all over your face, making you laugh and you leave a couple more kisses on both of his chubby cheeks, loving to hear his laughter and loving to see the huge smile he places on his pink lips.

"I love you, sweetheart."

You leave one more kiss on his forehead and make sure one last time to cover his head well with his cap, taking advantage of the fact that it's November and Winter has arrived to hide his straight hair.

You distract him with all the colorful toys that are distributed on the floor for all the children and take the opportunity to leave, otherwise he will cry if he sees you leaving. You exchange a look of understanding with the woman in charge and finally head back to your workplace.

The trailer door opens with a soft creak as you enter, feeling the mixture of excitement and nervousness run down your spine. You had been looking forward to this moment with anticipation, but also apprehension.

For you knew that your past would come back to haunt you.

But you know you need to be here.

The first thing you see are the lighted mirrors with their respective chairs and vanities in front of them, where makeup and wardrobe experts hurry to prepare the actors for the day's filming.

A scent of pressed powder and beauty products fills the air, creating a familiar atmosphere. And when you barely have time to absorb the scene, a brown-haired girl approaches you with an enthusiastic, warm smile.

"Hi! Y/N, right? The new makeup artist."

She points at you with her index finger and a thoughtful look, without wiping away her smile.

"Hi, yes, it's me," you nod to her, as you return the small smile.

"Perfect! I'm Jess, the wardrobe assistant," she extends her hand to you in a friendly gesture, "Nice to meet you and welcome!"

You can't help but be relieved by the friendly reception, then shake your hand with hers.

"Nice to meet you too, Jess. Thank you for having me."

"Oh we're so excited to have you here, I've been looking forward to your arrival," she confides, "Let me show you where you can drop your stuff off and then I'll give you directions, okay?"

Again you nod, grateful for the kindness of Jess, who leads you toward a row of lockers where you can store your things, then gives you directions.

"First, let's go over the schedule for the day," she tells you, opening a folder with the itinerary for the shoot. "We have this first scene where we need to make sure every detail is perfect. And you'll be in charge of the wardrobe for the main characters today."

She indicates without losing the kindness in her tone and you nod, understanding.

"So, take the wardrobe list for each actor and check that we have everything in order."

He hands you a detailed list, making sure that you with your new addition are aware of every detail.

"After that, we'll move on to makeup," she instructs you, "Sam, our talented makeup artist, will give you a brief orientation on the look we're going for. Don't worry, she's amazing and will guide you through the whole process."

Jess grabs a pair of robes and hands them to you.

"Now, let's get to work on the wardrobe. When you've gone through everything, head over to the makeup area, okay?"

Again you nod, understanding the directions perfectly and dive into your tasks with enthusiasm, getting off to a very good start and feeling completely comfortable.

Besides, this is nothing you haven't done before, as way back when you used to work for the BBC television network right here in King's Landing as well, this was your job, so there's nothing new or complicated for you.

When Jess, frantically going through her checklist, looks up at you.

"Oh, Y/N, we need more pins for costume fixes. Could you go to the prop depot and get a package, please? I'd really appreciate it."

You nod with a small smile.

"Sure, I'll be right back."

With a determined pace, you step out of the trailer and head to the depot which isn't far away and start looking for the package, which you didn't think would take you some time since there are so many packages of different things mixed up.

You search through many huge boxes, until you finally find the package of pins and let out a relieved sigh.

You leave the huge room and close the door behind you, walking back. And as you walk, as you pay attention to your surroundings, you feel a mixture of nostalgia and nervousness, as these hallways, permeated with the buzz of film activity, take you back to memories you've been trying to bury.

You let out a long breath, not wanting to think about it now, and concentrate on your work.

As you enter back into the trailer, everything is immersed in a constant murmur of conversations and the activity of preparations, at the same time as the trailer door closes with a soft click behind you.

You are about to enter the area where the tables and chairs and mirrors and everyone else are when you hear a somewhat familiar voice in a distant echo in the middle of it all, completely stopping your footsteps.

"…they said at the training scene I wasn't supposed to look any different in particular."

You frown, thinking that maybe you're mishearing and are mistaking that voice for someone else's.

But still you advance just three steps, sharpening your hearing with a wary face, waiting, wanting to make sure.

"And which one of these for that scene?" you hear one of the girls in charge of wardrobe.

You wait for the answer from that attentive and completely cautious voice, thinking that it must probably be a figment of your mind that wants you to believe things that aren't.

"I think the brown one," you hear that voice say back to the girl.

Your heart stops completely in that instant.

No.

It can't be.

You think completely incredulous and terrified.

You stand completely paralyzed and with a face of total shock as the sound of that voice continues to echo softly throughout the interior of the trailer, flowing conversation between him and the makeup artist.

The pulse in your throat beats with a mixture of surprise and anxiety, suddenly losing strength in your body, so you lean against one of the walls as you feel an emotional vertigo begin to emerge.

All those buried memories, suddenly resurface, as it is no imagination of yours and you know it is him because his voice has not changed and you could recognize it anywhere.

It is him.

He is here.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain control of your emotions, but you can't, and you can't believe this is happening right now, on your first day of work.

Completely cautious, you slowly peek out, wanting to be even more sure and wanting to see that it's all just your mind making it up.

But as soon as you catch a glimpse of that signature flash of platinum hair, your heart rate begins to race faster than normal.

And there he is, with his hair pulled back in a small low bun as he discusses the details of the scene with the makeup artist, a scene that resonated with similarities to moments you and he shared in the pass.

Disbelief completely invades your eyes and your entire face as you watch him, surprised to see him after exactly one year since that day. You notice every gesture and every feature that is still etched in detail in your mind.

He, oblivious to your presence, continues the conversation, but something in your expression begins to tremble.

You go back in time to the spark you both shared in the corridors of that studio, the looks of complicity, the many nights you shared together and the whispers in the dim light of the dressing rooms.

But you also remember that day, when you saw him completely frustrated but willing to be there for you, where his manager and his entire team talked to him about the consequences and you also remember everything he promised you, on hidden, which is why you decided to run away when you were only three weeks pregnant with him.

A lump forms in your throat and standing there, watching him, after so long, tears begin to invade your eyes.

But Jess announces your presence as she emerges from the back where the dressing rooms are, watching you at the entrance completely static and with a look she can't instantly identify.

"Y/N! There you are! Did you get the pins?"

And that's when it happens.

Saying your name loud enough for everyone inside the trailer to hear, it catches his attention, who confused and attentive watches where Jess is heading and that's when the gazes meet.

And in that instant, a spark of recognition crosses the face of Aemond, Aemond Targaryen, the man you decided to run away from so as not to ruin his career and the father of your child.

His healthy eye opens wide and surprise and disbelief overcome him as he sees you, right there, less than five meters away from him, the woman who carried his child with her and whom he sought so much after she disappeared completely from his life.

Silent, with the urgency of tears threatening to overflow, you step back, watching him cautiously and fearfully, at the same time beginning to tremble all over.

"Y/N," he utters your name with a tone of surprise and longing, as if he can't believe it, beginning to slowly rise from the chair.

You recoil further, as all the sadness, pain and anguish wash over you as you remember the past and think at the same time of your son, your sweet little boy.

However, your first instinct is to run away. Again.

Without a word and without looking back, you turn around and exit the trailer quickly before you could no longer hold back and tears involuntarily flow from your eyes, taking with you the image of Aemond and the echoes of a past you cannot escape and forget.

You don't care about your job, you don't care that you left everything just like that, you only think about running away and going quickly for your son, crying and completely terrified.

Aemond watches you walk away, unable to move and unable to speak, with a look of deep disbelief, surprise, bewilderment, regret and remorse while the people around him do not understand anything.

He knows that he made many mistakes in the past and he knows that you have a right to feel upset and hurt. But he also knows that you also made mistakes and you recognize that too.

But for now, you run away and he stands still, losing strength, where you both barely process what just happened and at the same time travel to the past, where it all started and where it all ended.

ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO.

At just twenty-one years old, you barely graduated from college and landed a great job opportunity with the BBC television network to work as a professional makeup artist and wardrobe assistant.

And now at the age of twenty-two and having been working for the network for two years, your life couldn't be better.

You have the job of your dreams, you have achieved so much despite the fact that your parents had no faith in you for choosing to study something that didn't guarantee you a future, and now your income is enough to allow you to live an independent life where you lack nothing.

When then, a new project comes up, a new TV series where you participate full time and where you are passionate about what you do.

That's when you meet him, one of the main actors of the show, Aemond Targaryen, a young, successful twenty-four year old actor who has already attracted the attention of the show business in his early days with a very promising future.

But it was not only for his incredible talent, he was also recognized and attracted a lot of attention for his unusual appearance, beautiful bright blue eye and a peculiar long platinum hair.

In his interviews he explains the origin of the genetic descriptions of him and his family, which is what causes a lot of doubt in every interviewer and also in his fans, wanting to know his origin.

That's why when they tell you that you will be assisting him in his makeup and wardrobe, you can't help but feel nervous but also a little excited to work with him.

And when the day finally arrives, Aemond Targaryen is actually quite a nice and accessible man to work with.

In the first few weeks of working and shooting the show, your interaction with him was completely professional.

You take it upon yourself to bring out the best in his image for the screen, where he does his part, always being friendly, willing and cooperative with you to follow directions and achieve the perfect look.

Always both of you at the beginning had normal and casual conversations to start forming trust, where everything becomes routine.

And it's not until he would say anything silly to make you laugh and where you both got to the point where you allowed yourselves to talk completely freely without being judged.

The shared laughs and casual comments created a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, where the relationship started to become more friendly and slowly stopped being so strictly professional.

And when you least expected it, you looked forward to working with him, doing his makeup and wardrobe, enjoying his company.

Even when he would arrive first at the trailer to get ready, he would look forward to your arrival.

And when you arrived, you couldn't help but smile a little shyly in his direction because of his intense gaze on you through the mirror, making you feel a little nervous.

As you carefully applied his makeup, Aemond couldn't help but notice that attention you paid to every detail on him, having you so close to his face, being a moment he also longed for it to come.

And as the days passed, accidental brushes and gestures that went beyond professionalism began to emerge.

During makeup sessions, the glances became more intense and prolonged, as if you were looking for something beyond the superficial appearance, where you noticed how he was looking at you beyond the professional surface.

But it wasn't something that bothered you, on the contrary, it made you feel inexplicable sensations that at the same time pleased you, knowing perfectly well that he wasn't like that with anyone else in your area, only with you.

And you both also made sure to act that way only when it was just the two of you or to do it subtly when you were around other people.

But you also knew the dangerous game you were both playing.

However, it was too late, you really started to like him too much even though you knew that the idea of him and you could not be possible.

In the film industry, relationships between colleagues are technically not allowed or frowned upon. Rumors and speculation about romances can alter fan perceptions and, in some cases, affect job opportunities.

In addition, you both have studio contracts and other projects in progress. And acting in such a way, where the intention of both is more than clear, can affect casting decisions and the perceptions of directors and producers.

And for Aemond, being an up-and-coming young actor with a solid fan base, the revelation of an affair can bring negative criticism to his public image.

His manager and team have told him that maintaining the coveted bachelor image may be convenient and commercially advantageous for him in his projects to attract audiences, as he is attractive and very talented.

Even though he had an accident as a child where he lost his left eye and now wears a prosthesis, that attracts more attention from people and they want to know more about him, causing him to be more relevant.

But all this mattered little to Aemond as he shared more moments with you.

As the relationship became more enjoyable, his feelings and emotions became more and more evident and so did yours, starting to overcome the barrier imposed by the entertainment industry.

And one day that line of professionalism that both were trying to maintain but was becoming increasingly difficult, finally broke down completely.

On a filming afternoon, you and Aemond meet in the wardrobe area, where you make sure he looks perfect in his required clothes for the day and he stands completely still, cooperating and watching you at all times.

The conversation between the two of you flows naturally, as it has so many times before, but this time, something in the air seems different, like a gentle tension.

"After we finish this final scene, we should go celebrate, don't you think?"

He suggests with a soft little smile, but his eye reflects an intensity and that desire he can't hide when he's with you.

"Sure," you say with a willing little smile, still securing his clothes, "With John, Rose and Lana?" you mention your partners.

"No," he murmurs, shaking his head softly, "Just you and me."

You look directly into his eye with a slightly surprised and bewildered look, not expecting to hear that, beginning to feel nervous at his words and also at the proximity of the two of you.

"But…" you look at him a little incredulously and with a small sad and disappointed smile, "We can't."

"Yes we can," he tells you softly, "We just have to be very careful and not tell anyone."

You watch him with a small spark of amusement on your face, smiling softly in his direction, not believing he's serious.

And it is at that moment that the looks on both of your faces makes it clear that the connection you both share is deeper than you both believed and where Aemond, more than anything else, makes his true intentions clear and wants to put them into practice, after so long.

A complicit silence surrounds the two and it is as if time stands still for an instant.

Aemond, with a soft expression, unable to contain himself any longer, gently takes your face in his hands and you let him, because you want him, even though you shouldn't.

"There's something I've wanted to do for a long time," he confesses, his voice laden with sincerity.

You, intrigued and captivated by the intensity in his eye, his beautiful blue eye and the closeness of the bodies, look at him with attention and desire.

"What is it?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.

And without another word, Aemond leans toward you and closes the distance between you, bringing his lips together with yours in a needy but slow and deep kiss that you reciprocate instantly.

It all happens in an instant of surprise, followed by a sweet surrender to the attraction that had grown between the two of you.

Time comes to a complete stop as you both sink into that first kiss, where Aemond's hands gently grip your waist and you respond with the same intensity by locking your arms around his neck and clinging to his lips.

You don't want him to stop, you don't want any of this to end.

Everything feels perfect and just as you imagined in your fantasy mind of wanting to live this moment.

And the moment doesn't end, as he pulls you further into the dressing room while still kissing you, leaning you against a vanity and pressing your body completely against his, making you gasp and respond to his needy kiss in kind.

Unfortunately, the kiss doesn't last as long as you would have liked, as a voice screams throughout the trailer.

"Next scene in five minutes! Everyone to the set, please!"

You and Aemond part abruptly, with surprised and terrified looks on your faces, instantly keeping your distance and pretending nothing has happened.

You head along with him toward the set, trying to hide any trace of the intimacy you both shared moments ago. And as you immerse yourself in the frenetic pace of the shoot, the complicity between the two of you manifests itself in small gestures and stolen glances.

And that's when the little relationship secretly begins.

Keeping the relationship a secret became a balancing act for both of you. As the connection you and he shared intensified, the need to hide the relationship became more and more crucial.

In the trailer and on set when you were around more people, as he did you had to learn to act as naturally as ever, carefully concealing any trace of intimacy.

Encounters became completely secret, kisses and caresses behind dressing rooms or in the trailer when you were alone, always alert to the possibility of being discovered. Even in the dressing room, it became a meeting place, where they could enjoy a moment alone.

You could also talk freely by call or text, but both he and you preferred to see each other in person.

That's why on days off, which were few, Aemond always took you to more private places. One night, for example, he took you to dinner at a small restaurant outside of town.

If it wasn't a restaurant, it was to invite you to a small coffeeshop and more discreet places, out of the reach of prying eyes, where he still had to go covered by his characteristic hair.

And when neither of them had the spirit to be always alert, you went to his apartment or he to yours, where they could act with total freedom and even go further.

In Aemond you found a friend, an accomplice and practically the perfect man for you, not because of what he possesses and who he is out there for everyone to see, but because of who he really is, inside.

You simply couldn't help but fall deeply in love with him and that fortunately he reciprocated as strongly as you did, wanting you and only you.

And although the fear of discovery added a touch of dangerous excitement to the relationship, the weight of keeping it all a secret was beginning to generate emotional conflict.

The strain of keeping up appearances and the constant need for vigilance began to wear on you. And as the relationship progresses, you can't help but wonder if there will ever be a chance to be free with Aemond.

But you both know it's not possible.

Much less will it be when one day, Aemond lets you know the news.

"I need to talk to you about something," he says in a serious and defeated tone, taking your hands in his.

He has come unexpectedly to your apartment and that seemed strange to you, but now that he is telling you this and behaving like this, you know it is for a reason and it is not a good one.

"Is everything okay?" you ask him intently and with your brow furrowed.

He sighs before answering, looking sad.

"Production and my manager are pressuring me to fake a relationship with my co-star in a promotional campaign. They say it will help generate more interest in the show."

And there are the consequences of having this relationship on the quiet with him.

Aemond's face contorts in anguish as he sees the expression on your face of mild surprise and definitely not expecting to hear that.

"I promise you that I refused and did everything in my power not to do this Y/N, but I didn't accomplish nothing and…. I-It shouldn't take more than three months, I swear."

He explains, but the sharp pain in your chest is already there and remains, as you begin to imagine what this is all going to be like.

You press your lips together in a thin line and not knowing what to say or what exactly to do, you let out a long breath and watch your hands with his, processing what he is telling you and what he will have to do next.

Even though you understand the demands of the industry and everything about marketing, still the idea of Aemond faking a relationship with someone else makes you feel weird and uncomfortable.

But what can you really do? Nothing.

This is his job and you're not going to get upset with him when you know it's not his fault and that this is what he does in order to make a living.

"When?" you ask him watching him with your soft gaze but with a slightly sad expression.

He lets out a sigh.

"I don't know, I just know that they are already setting everything up," he tells you frustrated with his low and serious voice, "But I need you to be okay with this, Y/N," he looks at you worried, "I know it will be hard for both of us but I don't want this to affect us when you know the truth behind everything and why I do it."

You watch him for a few seconds without saying anything, as you feel a lump in your throat and also feel the helplessness he conveys for all of this, as he really doesn't want to do this.

But he must meet the professional expectations of the production company and you have no choice but to support him.

"Well," you say softly, trying to hide your hurt look by forcing a small smile to reassure him, "These are the production company's decisions and you must do it. And you don't need to worry about me, you know I'll support you."

He takes his gaze away from yours for a second, letting out a longer sigh than before, then takes your face gently in his hands.

"Of course I worried about you, sweetheart," he murmurs with tiredness, then draws you into a tight, tender embrace.

He leaves a gentle kiss on your head and even though he is relieved that you understood, he still feels remorse and anguish because if he were you, of course he would disagree and it would hurt quite a bit.

But this is work and he really doesn't have much choice.

And when you least expect it, the moment arrives.

The next few weeks are a complete whirlwind of emotions for you as you watch the fictional relationship of Aemond and his co-star, the famously gorgeous actress Cerelle Lannister, prepare to come to light.

Joint promotions take them both to photo shoots and interviews where they must show complicity and affection. And seeing Aemond sharing moments that used to be just yours and his, now in the public sphere with someone other than you, becomes a painful test.

One evening, you see photos of Aemond and Cerelle having dinner at a famous restaurant downtown and all the photos show the complicit smiles and affectionate gestures.

And even though you know it's part of the act, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach seeing them together. And even worse, seeing how the public is fascinated and in love with their relationship.

It is for all this that you no longer see him frequently and there is only communication by messages.

And when he finally has a space in his schedule, he takes the opportunity to see you, where you at all times try to look as if you are not affected by all this, so as not to worry him and frustrate him when you know he has a lot of weight on his shoulders.

He still apologizes and tries to make it up to you, but in the midst of your soothing words, the pain is reflected in your gaze.

And that's what you do for the next few weeks, you continue to support him from the shadows while he and Cerelle put on a show and are the center of attention.

At first you had told yourself not to see anything about them on the internet, but you can't help it and you see the pictures, read the headlines in the magazines and with each new performance, you feel a slight sharp pain in your heart.

When the day of a big awards event arrives where directors, producers, script writers, the academy members, the press and of course the actors and actresses attend, where precisely Aemond and Cerelle attend together as a couple officially in front of all public eye.

Images and videos of the two sharing laughter and affectionate gestures spread through every social network, while you, from your apartment, watch the scene with a mixture of pride as this is important in Aemond's career but also feel a deep sadness that threatens to overflow.

You wish it was you instead of her.

It's been months since you and Aemond started this relationship behind everyone's back and you want that, to be able to touch him and be with him in public.

But you can't.

And you can't stand this anymore either.

You decide to watch movies and change the channel, not wanting to focus on them anymore, trying to ignore your emotions and your wounded heart, not wanting to do anything else tonight but just forget and stay in the comfort of your bed.

After two hours, your phone starts ringing, indicating an incoming call and when you look at the screen, Aemond's name appears, but you decide not to answer.

You don't feel like talking to him, you don't want to get upset with him when he is not to blame for anything and start an unnecessary fight, so you prefer not to talk.

But after that call, Aemond insistent calls you a couple more times, in which you decide not to answer as well.

At your lack of response, he can't help but feel worried, thinking that you must be feeling bad because of him even though you understand why he's doing all this. And once the rewards are over, he in covered takes his car and drives to your apartment.

As he drives, his mind is filled with thoughts of how to talk to you and find the right words to ease the tension in both of you. But the nervousness doesn't let him think clearly nor has he forgotten the overwhelming awards he had to attend to.

Once he arrives at your door, he just hopes you're okay, even though he knows you're not and knocks three times.

"Y/N? It's Aemond," he says cautiously and hopeful that you will open the door, wanting to speak and see you.

The silence lingers for a few moments before you finally open the door, where the slight surprise of seeing him here at this hour is reflected in your gaze, not understanding anything. And he just sighs, feeling guilty.

"You didn't respond to my calls or messages and I got worried," he explains to you briefly and in a soft voice, "I needed to see you."

Despite all the emotions you're feeling, the fact that he's come looking for you shows you that he really cares about you and wants to do everything he can to make you okay.

You watch him silently for a moment and nod slowly in his direction with a look of understanding.

"I'm fine," you reply softly, wanting to convince him as well as yourself.

"No, I know you're not," he insists, concerned, "I-I… I know this is all very difficult and I don't want you to feel pressured, but…" he lets out a frustrated sigh, "I'm here to talk if you need to."

Appreciating his sincerity silently and seeing how terribly worried he is, you let him in.

The two of you have a difficult but necessary conversation, where neither of you have any intention of ending this thing you have together and where he's willing to show you that he doesn't care about Cerelle, just you.

"I only want you, baby. You and no one else," he murmurs lovingly and with desire in his gaze, closing his eye and catching your lips in a needy, deep kiss.

You respond in kind, gasping into his lips and bringing your hands to stroke his hair, clinging to him completely as he brings his hands to your waist and ass, squeezing the soft skin of both your ass cheeks.

"Do you mean it?" you ask in the middle of the kiss, beginning to feel the wetness between your legs.

"Yes, I fucking mean it," he replies against your lips, biting and sucking on your lips again.

You moan as he begins to leave a trail of kisses all over your neck, biting and leaving little marks on your sensitive skin, making you shiver all over your body and begin to feel the hardness in his pants against your pelvis.

Absentmindedly he brings one of his hands up and caresses one of your breasts over your shirt, making you moan and continue kissing him as he brings his hands back down to your thighs.

"Oh, Aemond," you whine.

"Fuck," he murmurs in delight, making you wrap your legs around his torso and feel directly on your needy clit, his cock hard and in need of release, "Such a needy little thing, arent you?"

His mouth roams and kisses every exposed part of your skin, as he pulls you along with him towards your couch, making you sit on top of him and you desperately begin to seek relief as you cause friction between your bodies.

He groans into your mouth, feeling his cock throb and ache.

"Can I take this off?" he grabs the edge of your shirt and you nod desperately, needy.

You are not wearing a bra and when your breasts are out in the open, Aemond lets out a curse as he stares at your breasts fully aroused to take one of your nipples into his mouth, making you arch and bring his face closer to your breasts.

Not long after that he too takes off his shirt and you free his cock from its confines and then start riding him, unable to wait a moment longer.

"Shit," he hisses, "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."

You moan loudly as he brings one of his hands to your already swollen clit and starts massaging it with two fingers, making you moan and making you move your hips with more fervor on top of him, as your skin slaps and rattles with his beneath you.

That night, not only does he fuck you on your couch, he fucks you on your bed too, not being able to get enough of you, loving to see your whole face contorted in pleasure as he fucks you against your bed hard, his cock continually thrusting in and out of you, the sound of skin against skin being heard.

You bite down on his shoulder and wrap your legs around his torso again, feeling him deeper, as Aemond kisses you and draws his eyebrows together in concentration and pleasure.

"Are you going to let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again, baby? I want to feel you fucking cum all over my cock."

He brings his hand to your clit again and begins to massage it furiously, wanting to watch you crumble and feel you do it around his cock, while you moan and bite his shoulder and neck.

"Oh y-yes, Ae-mond,"you moan.

You close your eyes, escape a quiet moan, arch your back fully and feel the whole wave of euphoria wash over your entire body, seeing stars behind your eyes.

And with one last hard thrust, Aemond cums inside you letting out a grunt and hiding his whole face in the curve of your neck, leaving a couple of wet kisses once you both come back to earth and melt into each other's arms.

A few weeks later, you're back at work and Aemond starts filming a new movie for Netflix, so you don't see each other as often as you used to.

Aemond's schedule is very tight and he still does everything he can to be able to see you and spend time with you, while you in comparison to him have more free time but can't spend it with him because of his work.

And it is in that same time that you start to feel strange, but you hadn't connected the dots until the signs became too obvious to ignore.

One day, while working on set, fatigue suddenly overwhelmed you and a persistent nausea made you realize that something was going on. Suddenly lack of appetite appeared and seeing things too sweet or chicken or meat meals made you sick to your stomach.

Or also weird cravings started, which your mind started to scare you with possibly confirming what you were thinking.

During a break in the filming, you discreetly retreat to the bathroom, feeling the need for a moment to yourself. And as you look in the mirror, you notice the pallor on your face and the different glow in your eyes.

Completely terrified, you wait for your break from work and rush to the pharmacy, buying three pregnancy tests of different brands and supposedly the best.

And once at home, everything is silent, as the seconds tick by and you feel like you are drowning in your own thoughts.

You're not ready to be a mom, in fact the thought of having children was never something you wanted or wanted in the long run, because you're still young, you have your dream job at only twenty-two years old and to stop focusing on your dreams and goals to focus on those of a child… it's not something you want.

But the pregnancy test you hold in your trembling hand confirms your suspicions, as do the other tests, all positive.

Fear totally grips you, not only because of the fact that you are pregnant, but because of the implications this brings to your life and also to Aemond's life.

God, Aemond.

You think completely terrified, starting to cry, feeling the pressure in your chest.

You know this will stop and totally ruin his career.

You imagine yourself facing the critical gaze of the media, the headlines of magazines and news websites, as well as the constant speculation about your personal life.

You feel completely scared and hopeless, having no idea what Aemond's reaction will be, but you know this is not good, a baby, right now is not good, not for you and certainly not for him.

But you must tell him. You know you must. Regardless, how could you keep something like this from him?

It takes you two days to finally get up the courage to tell him and as you wait for him in your apartment, the pregnancy test rests in your trembling, sweaty hands, feeling completely frightened amidst all the silence around you.

Your eyes burn from crying so much, you feel like you have no strength, you feel weak and you haven't been able to sleep well and you don't even want to imagine how you will be later when Aemond finds out and everything between you will probably go wrong.

The sound of the door makes you jump nervously, knowing it's him.

You feel more fear and uncertainty flood you but you force yourself to get up from your couch and head to open the door, feeling that you will burst into tears at any moment.

As you open it, Aemond's handsome face and his usual smile was nothing like your face, being quite the opposite, so noticing your state his smile drops and he looks at you completely distressed and worried as you let out a few tears silently.

"Hey, hey," Aemond holds your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. His concern is palpable in the way his eyes search yours for answers. "What happened, baby? Are you okay?"

You sniffle your nose, inhale deeply and keep your eyes closed for a moment, only causing Aemond more unease when you don't utter a word.

"Y/N, what happened?" he insists, his tone laden with anxiety and seriousness.

"I'm really sorry," you murmur sadly to him, feeling each word weigh heavy in your chest and a sense of hopelessness creep over you.

"You're sorry, for what? What happened?" he asks again, completely confused and uncomprehending.

"I'm… I-I'm pregnant," you mumble in a broken voice, as if uttering those words would make reality more concrete.

Aemond's face remains completely static, his eyes wide open, watching you as tears slide down your cheeks. The gravity of the news is reflected in the tense silence that appears between the two of you.

"What?" he mutters under his breath, barely audible but laden with disbelief.

You nod slowly, reaching out to him for the proof you hold in your trembling hand. And every second that passes as he analyzes it feels like an eternity as you wait for his reaction.

But he barely processes the information, takes the evidence between his fingers and the seconds stretch out like hours as you feel your heart beating too fast.

But Aemond's face shows neither anger nor joy.

And finally he reacts by bringing his hands to his hair, his eye fixed on the evidence for a moment and then looking at a spot in your living room, beginning to see frustration and surprise invade him more.

He lets out a sigh and turns his gaze back to you in a desperate manner.

"Hey, baby," he says to you now nervously, "Are you absolutely sure?"

You nod slowly.

"I did three tests, all three came back positive."

He brings a hand to his forehead, averting his gaze from yours for a moment. His eyes reflect tumultuous thoughts, a mixture of thoughts ranging from disbelief to concern.

"But how?" he watches you blankly, still with surprise painted in his gaze.

"You didn't use a condom and I took the pill, but it didn't work," you tell him in a hopeless voice, trying to explain the inexplicable.

"Oh, fuck," he murmurs, biting his lips and bringing a hand to his chin.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean for this to happen either," you admit to him, your tears streaming down your cheeks.

You feel the need to apologize as if this burden is something only you should carry, the vulnerability clear in your tone of voice and on your face, which worries Aemond more at seeing you in such a state.

"Hey, no, don't, don't do that, don't apologize," he says instantly, turning back to you and placing a hand on your cheek, "We're both part of this, you understand me? You're not to blame for anything and I'm not going to leave you alone," he assures you, completely honest and determined with his words.

And despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a huge relief come over you knowing that you are not alone in this, as he looks at your sad face, with your dry tears and red eyes.

And then he places a soft kiss on your lips and encloses you in a comforting embrace that is all you need at that moment.

You knew that Aemond would eventually have to tell his manager and his team as well, however, you didn't expect him to do it on the same day you let him know the news and you didn't expect all his people to start working so soon on this, on your pregnancy.

You call his agent and in an instant he, along with his publicist and his team of public relations people, invade your apartment.

And his agent, Criston Cole, doesn't have time to start reproaching him for having had a secret relationship with you all this time, although the anger is there but the important thing is the baby on the way, where he can't do anything either because it's already in your womb.

So he only talks about solutions.

And it is precisely because of these painful solutions for you that you decided to run away and disappear from his life to save his career and also your child.

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut

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finelinevogue · 7 months

Text

pancakes for two

summary - seeing your niece for the first time

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

You made pancakes for breakfast on a Saturday.

It was a routine at this point and would be rude not to have pancakes after your morning jog with Harry.

Harry tended to make himself banana pancakes, because he hated not having some fruit in there somehow, but you were all for the nutella and other loaded toppings.

You had both just finished your pancakes, dirty plates on the coffee table in front of you and cups of tea to hand as you watched ‘This Morning’ on ITV.

Even after having been on a run and eaten pancakes, your day was about to get so much better.

“Remind me that I need to pick up more loo roll the next time I go to the shops.” You said to Harry.

“Thought we bought loads?”

His free hand rested on your ankle from where your legs were stretched out on his lap.

“Yeah, but we gave a lot to Gem remember?”

“Oh shit, yes. We can go later if you want? I’ll take you?” He offered.

“The last thing I want to do is leave the house on the one day where you’re not busy preparing for baby number 4.” You laughed, taking a sip of your Yorkshire Gold tea.

“Baby number 4?” It was Harry’s turn to chuckle.

“Album? Baby? Same thing. They’re all your children.”

He tapped your ankle playfully.

Harry had been working so hard on planning for the next phase of his career and you were so happy to see him get excited and creative again.

Music is where he thrived and it was a joy to watch him work. However it did mean he was gone more than you wanted him to be, so quiet weekends like this were absolutely necessary.

Harry missed you just as much and he was constantly lucky that it was you waiting for him at home.

He’d been working so hard that he hadn’t even had a moment to see his sister since she gave birth.

It was only a week ago, but Gemma was still recovering and requested that the three of them just had some quiet time to let the new reality to settle in.

Now, Harry was restless to see his niece.

You scrolled through your phone when it suddenly made a Ring doorbell noise.

“Yes! I bet that’s my Waterstones parcel.” You said excitedly, sitting up and setting your tea on the coffee table.

“Another one?”

You hit Harry’s thigh playfully, “Shut up!” Although he did have a valid point.

You waited for the doorbell to ring, before jumping up and making your way to the front. You made a note to shout at Harry for - yet again - leaving his coat on the banister and not put back on coat rack.

You unlocked and opened the door, expecting the delivery guy but were met with Gemma, Michal and baby instead.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Surprise!” Gemma laughed, baby carrier on Michal’s arm and baby bags too.

You started tearing up then, emotional over how beautiful Gemma was after recently giving birth. She was glowing and looked incredible. They both looked so happy too.

“Y/N/N?” Harry called your nickname.

He rounded the corner only to stop short.

“Look who showed up.” You allowed the tears to drop down your face.

“Hey, bro.” Gemma smiled.

“Hi, H!” Michal smiled at Gemma’s smile.

Harry, ever the emotional man, broke down in little sobs then. He pouted when he cried and probably had the same thoughts as you initially did.

“Come in. Come on.” You ushered them in.

You gave Gemma a big hug first, squeezing her but not too tight, and kissed her cheeks.

Then you hugged Michal, careful to avoid all his extra baggage.

“How are you?” You asked Michal, as Gemma went over to speak and probably console Harry.

“Tired, but never been happier.” He genuinely smiled.

“Can I take anything from you?”

“No, I’m just going to dump them here if that’s okay?” He motioned to the space in the hall.

“Of course, go ahead.”

“You want a tea? Coffee?” You offered.

“Coffee, please. No sugar. Gem will probably just have water.”

You nodded and walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. Gemma and Harry were still hugging, softly talking to one another. You left them to it, not wanting to disrupt the siblings reunion.

You wiped your own tears with your sweater, before pottering around the kitchen.

“So let me see my niece then!” You demanded as Michal placed the carrier on the kitchen island.

He opened the visor and you had to choke back a sob as you saw how small your new niece was - your new best friend.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“I know. I keep having the same reaction, even now.” Michal chuckled.

Gemma and Harry walked in a few seconds later - Harry with red eyes and Gemma smiling like a madwoman.

You leaned forwards and brushed your finger over your nieces tiny bunched fist. Her skin was so soft and she didn’t budge at all with the tap from you.

“She’s beautiful, guys.” You whispered.

“She really is.” Gemma agreed.

“She’s a Styles if I ever saw one. No offence Michal.”

“None taken.” Michal genuinely didn’t seem offended.

You stepped back to let Harry have a gaze over his new niece, wrapped in her blankets and knitted bonnets. There were so many blankets you wondered whether she was cooking underneath them all!

It wasn’t your turn to know anything about kids or parenting though, yet, so you weren’t going to question anything.

Harry approached his niece and softly caressed over her small hand and over her quite chubby cheeks.

You cupped a hand over your mouth as you teared up from watching Harry interact with a baby.

“It’s too much!” You cried, laughing like an idiot.

Gemma and Michal watched you with soft expressions.

Harry moved towards you then, “Hey. What’s up?” He asked, pulling you in for a big hug. The best hugs.

“I think i’ve got a heavy case of baby fever right now.”

Harry pulled you away a bit to read your face, “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” He smiled.

“Okay, what?” You stepped back.

“Let’s try. For a baby, I mean.”

“Really?” You eyes filled with tears. “You mean it?”

“A baby with you? It would make all those birthday and shooting star wishes come true.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fan fic

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strangespector · 1 month

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Breathless

Summary: A bad habit that has consequences

Words: 1046

The flashing lights of paparazzi cameras illuminated the night, capturing Jenna Ortega in a moment that would soon be plastered all over social media. The young actress, beloved by millions, was caught with a cigarette in hand, the smoke curling up into the night sky. The pictures went viral almost instantly, eliciting reactions from fans, critics, and, most notably, her family. Jenna's mother was especially vocal about her disapproval, a sentiment echoed by the rest of her family. They knew Jenna had started smoking on set, a habit picked up in the chaotic world of Hollywood, but seeing it publicly displayed ignited a firestorm of concern and frustration.

Despite their pleas, Jenna continued smoking, a habit that became a part of her daily routine. She would often light up at home, the scent of tobacco lingering in the air. I, on the other hand, had never touched a cigarette in my life. The smoke bothered me at first, the acrid scent clinging to the furniture, my clothes, and even my hair. But I loved Jenna. She was my world, and though I disliked her smoking, I endured it because I knew how much stress she was under. I figured it was her way of coping, a temporary crutch in the high-pressure world she navigated every day.

Years passed, and Jenna's star only continued to rise. She became a household name, and with every new role, her fanbase grew. But alongside her success, her smoking habit persisted. By now, it had become second nature to her, a part of her routine as much as brushing her teeth or making coffee in the morning. I often found myself coughing, my chest tightening uncomfortably whenever the smoke hung too thick in the air. There were days when I felt short of breath, but I chalked it up to a cold or allergies. The thought that something could be seriously wrong never crossed my mind.

It wasn’t until I started losing weight rapidly, my energy levels plummeting, that I decided to see a doctor. The cough that had lingered for months turned into something more sinister, a persistent ache that gnawed at my insides. After a series of tests and a tense waiting period, the diagnosis came: lung cancer, stage three. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. The doctor explained that the cause was likely secondhand smoke, a byproduct of living with a smoker for so many years.

When I told Jenna, she was devastated. The color drained from her face as she realized the implications of what the doctor had said. This wasn't just any illness—this was a direct consequence of her habit. A habit she had nurtured and indulged, not realizing the price I would eventually pay. She cried for days, apologizing over and over, but I reassured her that I didn’t blame her. After all, it had been my choice to stay, my choice to love her despite her flaws. But deep down, I knew she carried the weight of this guilt, a burden she would never fully shake off.

The chemotherapy was brutal. Each session left me weaker than the last, my body battered and bruised by the relentless assault of drugs meant to kill the cancer. Jenna was by my side through it all, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep and constant worry. She quit smoking immediately, the sight of a cigarette now repulsive to her. She did everything she could to make me comfortable, but the cancer had spread too far, too fast. The doctors were honest with us—it was only a matter of time.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I grew weaker. My once-strong body was now frail, a shadow of the person I used to be. Breathing became difficult, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a sigh of resignation. I knew my time was running out, and I accepted it with a calmness I hadn’t expected. I had lived a good life, a happy life, despite the challenges. And Jenna, for all her faults, had made me happier than I ever thought possible.

When the end was near, I made one final request: I wanted to go home. The hospital was cold, sterile, a place where people went to fight for their lives. But I wasn’t fighting anymore. I just wanted to be in a place that felt familiar, surrounded by the memories of a life well-lived. Jenna arranged everything, bringing me home and setting up a bed in the living room where the sunlight streamed in through the windows.

The last few days were a blur of pain and medication. I could feel myself slipping away, my consciousness fading in and out like a weak radio signal. But Jenna was always there, holding my hand, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of my fading life. I remember the last time I opened my eyes, her face blurry but unmistakable, framed by the soft afternoon light. She was crying, her tears falling silently onto our clasped hands.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."

I mustered what little strength I had left and smiled at her, a weak but genuine smile. "I forgive you," I said, my voice barely a breath. "You gave me a happy life, Jenna. That's all that matters."

And in that moment, as I looked into her tear-filled eyes, I felt a deep sense of peace. I had no regrets, no anger, only love for the woman who had been my everything. I closed my eyes, holding onto that final image of her, my heart full even as my body failed. And then, with one last breath, I let go, slipping away into the quiet darkness, leaving Jenna with the memories of our life together and the lesson learned from a habit that had cost us both so dearly.

Jenna would go on to live her life, forever changed by the experience. She would tell our story to others, a cautionary tale of love, loss, and the heavy price of a moment’s indulgence. And though I was gone, I knew she would carry me with her, in her heart, every step of the way.

#strangespector #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n

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perlelune · 7 months

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Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron

Loving Rafe was a rollercoaster you could never get off of. Sometimes thrilling, but mostly terrifying. And some way, somehow, he always found a way to draw you back in for another ride.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Drug Addiction, Drunk Driving, Kook! Reader, Toxic Relationship, Abuse, Emotional Blackmail, Suicidal Talk

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You smile as Marissa tells her story once more. No matter how many times you hear it, it never gets old.

“Who does that? I mean he didn’t even have his driving license. I was so embarrassed-”

The rest of the girls in the circle you formed in the living room gasp. You nurse your beer before taking another sip. You take a bite of the birthday cake, humming in appreciation of the cinnamon and pineapple undertones. For a minute, you soak it all in. The soft pop pouring from the speakers in your friend’s living room. The casual chatter between friends.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, enjoying your cake in a corner of the couch.

It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy a night like this. Quiet and calm. Not since your breakup. Spending time with your friends always fell to the wayside in your previous relationship, your ex finding issues with how much time you spend with them instead of him. It wasn’t uncommon for you to drop everything whenever he called. Girls’ night outs. Sleepovers. Even birthdays, like today.

He was the sun around which your entire life orbited and he couldn’t stand anything or anyone stealing your attention away. It took you a long time to leave. More than you’re comfortable admitting.

It’s not like things were bad all the time. In fact, most of the time, they were good. Not just good. They were great. So great you easily forgave and forgot. Forgot about the tears. Forgot about the rough hands on your skin. Forgot about the cruel words. Forgot about the screaming and nights lying awake, wondering what you did wrong for him to be so angry at you again.

He was a magician. With the right words and that twinkle in his ocean gaze, he could make all the hurt vanish. Like none of it was ever there to begin with. The same eyes that made you feel small could make your stomach flutter. The same mouth that would praise you could tear you down as easily.

Your heart was never at rest, as you never knew which version of him you’d get on a particular day. The sweet and kind version. Or the paranoid and volatile one.

So many little things could set him off. A throwaway comment from his dad. An argument with his sister. Some stranger's gaze resting on you half a second too long.

Nothing you did could ever get that chip off his shoulder. No amount of care, patience or love could ever reassure him enough. It was exhausting, which is why you left. Well, more like…ran away. Avoided his side of the island. Ghosted him. Hid away really.

It’s been a few weeks now. You are slowly retrieving some semblance of peace in your life. It’s easier when he’s not around. Easier to breathe. Easier to move around.

Marissa turns to you.

“I’m so happy that you could make it.”

You beam at her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pauses, her fingers tapping the side of her beer bottle.

“You did last year,” she points out.

You tense. Last year. You never even told her what that was about. You were dressed up and ready and he stopped you on your way out, questioning why you were looking this good for “just some chicks’ get-together”. You shudder as the memory flashes through your brain. Needless to say you never made it to your friend’s party.

“Yeah…sorry about that,” you mumble, scratching your arm.

She smiles in reassurance, squeezing your arm.

“It’s okay. But no more missing my birthday, okay?”

“Okay, promise,” you reply, nodding.

The conversation is halted by the buzzing of your phone. Your chest clenches at the sight of the familiar name across the screen. Marissa steals a glimpse from across the couch and tilts her head in disapproval. The two of them were oil and water, never getting along. In fact, she got in his face quite a few times. And he seemed to enjoy riling her up even more.

“Don’t answer that.” She nudges your shoulder. “I already told you, you need to block him.”

In theory, you know you should sever all ties. But you haven’t found the nerve to cross that bridge yet. Sending him straight to voicemail and leaving him on read is the height of what you can achieve right now. Besides, you shudder to think how he’d react to you blocking him. He damn near broke your door down the day after you texted him that you two were over.

“It could be important…” You get to your feet, stepping away from the couch and your friend’s critical stare. “I’m just gonna tell him to stop. I’ll be right back.”

You head to the balcony. You inhale a lungful of courage before swiping to accept the call.

“Hey, angel. Miss me?” Rafe slurs drunkenly.

Your brows knit. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, Rafe.”

He barks out a derisive laugh. “You hear this shit, bro? Acting like she cares about me all of sudden.”

Your chest twinges, his words hurting more than they should.

Another familiar voice faintly echoes in the background.

“Is that Topper?”

Your frown deepens. They both sound too inebriated to be driving anyone home, let alone themselves.

As you ponder if you should call Sarah or Ward, a crashing sound echoes through the phone, the boys’ laughter dying. Your stomach drops.

“Rafe?” you call.

You frantically text him. When you get no response, you try Topper. He doesn’t pick up immediately.

At least twenty minutes slog by in terrifying silence.

Chewing on your thumb, you wait for the call to reach him.

When you finally hear his voice, relief seeps through you. If he’s fine, then Rafe must also be, right?

But your hopes are swiftly pulverized when he informs you that Rafe is being transported to the hospital. Panic flutters through you. You don’t want to care. You and him aren’t together anymore. It’s not your problem…Except it is. You can’t quell the worry pooling in your gut, the racing of your heart at the thought that Rafe could be hurt. Or worse.

Anxiously rubbing your hands, you head back to the living room. Marissa won’t like what you have to say, but dread has wrapped its fist around your heart since you heard that horrifying sound on the other end of the line, and hasn’t eased up since. The not knowing is worse than anything.

Noting the contrite pinch to your face, your friend heaves out a deep exhale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to see him,” she says.

You chew on your lip. You know how this looks. Like you’re that girl who picks a guy over her friends again. Still, you remind yourself it’s not like the other times. You aren’t together anymore. You’re over him. You’re way past that. You’re just making sure he’s safe.

“I think something happened. Something really bad.”

Marissa shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. You try to ignore her and your other friend’s pointed stares. Their quietness speaks volumes, the weight of their judgment bearing heavily in the room.

“He always does that. Who knows if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You mean crashed his car on purpose? Marissa, come on…”

She tosses her head backwards, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m used to you bailing.” She glances at her freshly painted nails. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her accusation aches but you shove it aside. You bid everyone goodbye and grab your keys from the lobby.

The entire drive your heart is in your throat, your clammy hands tight around the wheel.

The worst scenarios keep playing in your head like a horrible nightmare. The picture of Rafe, a white sheet draped over his unmoving body, won’t stray from your raging thoughts. Why do you feel like this is your fault? He always had troubles with overindulging in liquor and other party favors. It’s something the two of you often argued about. But he had gotten better about it lately, before the breakup. He’d thrown away the drugs, eased up on the drinking. He was better. It’s part of why leaving felt okay.

Your eyes well up with tears. You wipe them in frustration, focusing on the dark road ahead.

Sucking a wide breath, you remind yourself. You’re not responsible for Rafe. None of this is your fault.

Still, as you pull into the hospital’s driveway, guilt lingers within you.

Thanks to Topper’s instructions, you find Rafe’s room quickly.

You’re a breathless mess when you arrive, having raced through the white corridors. Sarah and Wheezie hug you as soon as they see you. You return it, having missed them in the last few weeks. You had come to think of the youngest of the Cameron siblings as the little sister you never had. You often went out to have ice cream while she told you of the gossip from her school. As for Sarah, the two of you go way back. While not the closest, you’ve been in the same circles since kindergarten. The puffiness of her brown eyes doesn’t escape you. While there’s no love lost between her and her big brother, she seems as shaken as you are.

Ward greets you with a nod. Meeting his gaze is difficult. He always told you you were a good influence on his son. A good girl from a good family. That you were exactly what Rafe needed to set himself straight and finally grow up. You can tell from the way his blue eyes are trained on you that Ward is a little disappointed, that he expected you to stick it out through the storm with his son. The people-pleaser inside you shrinks a bit at that.

Rose at least appears to empathize with your plight, flashing you a quick smile. She too seems to have cried, which stuns you the most. It’s no secret she and Rafe have never gotten along.

The Camerons make space for you to tiptoe further inside the room.

You take shaky steps towards Rafe. It hurts seeing him like that, hunched over at the edge of the bed in a hospital gown. While he’s not attached to tubes and wires, your chest seizes as you note the sling around his left arm, his busted lip and the long cut running across his brow.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Ward says, gesturing at his daughters to vacate the room.

Silence hangs for a while after the rest of the Cameron clan leaves, giving you and Rafe privacy. Eyes clinging to the floor, you girdle your breath until he speaks.

“You came.”

You look up, Rafe’s cool tone startling you. You approach him.

“Of course I came.”

The muscles of his jaw clench.

“You didn’t have to,” he says curtly.

You cup his cheek, “Rafe-”

He slaps your hand away, his eyes rolling back as he unleashes a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He sniffs and chuckles but it lacks humor. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t give two shits about me.”

Disbelief strikes you. How could Rafe utter such words after everything you’ve been through together?

Your brows furrow as you graze his arm, whispering softly,

“That’s not true, Rafe and you know it.”

“Do I?” He taps his temple with his healthy arm, stammering angrily, “C-Cause I had so many thoughts in my head when you left…”

“Rafe-”

“I know we weren’t perfect but I thought we were pretty happy, y’know?”

A surge of tears presses beneath your lashes.

“We were.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Sometimes. But you weren’t…” Your lip quakes as you’re hit with the remembrance of how bad his mood swings were. You rub your neck, the phantom sensation of Rafe’s fingers squeezing it tight sizzling your flesh. Your voice comes out small. “We weren’t good for each other, Rafe.”

He bites his bottom lip and slowly releases it before sneering, “Bet you’d have preferred if I died tonight, get it all over with.”

“What? How can you even say that?” you say, your pitch spiking with shock.

“Y’know maybe I should…Maybe I should just get my dad’s gun, blow my fucking brains out and stop being such a burden to you.”

He mimics the gesture of shooting a gun through his skull and tears spill over your cheek.

You cradle his face.

“Don’t say things like that, Rafe. Please…” you sob.

“What else am I supposed to say, huh? You left me. Bet you think I’m a fuckup too. Just like my dad.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I wanted to die.”

“Rafe.”

His watery gaze dives into yours.

“When you left, I wanted to fucking die.”

Your breath falters.

“Being without you is hell, angel.” Desperation oozes from his voice. “I just wanted to feel…I don’t know, anything else.” He buries his face in his hand, mumbling under his breath, “I-I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined breaking up with Rafe would send him in such a state. A wave of guilt consumes your insides. Perhaps it was selfish, taking your distance the way you did.

You place your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you. I’m sorry.”

He snorts. “I mean, how could you? It’s not like you answer when I call.”

The air chills around you. Your lips clamp shut at that, your head lowering. You did ignore all of Rafe’s calls. And now you find yourself wondering if there were cries for help, if he was drowning and needed you to pull him ashore. If you had picked up, just once, maybe he wouldn’t be here right now.

The doctor comes in and you step back. Rafe is thankfully cleared, presenting no concussion or major injuries besides his broken arm. You meet Topper outside and are relieved to find him in much better shape than your ex. Outside of a nasty scrape on his cheek, he’s completely unharmed.

“Were you drunk too?” you can’t help but ask him.

“I…Yeah, but I wasn’t the one driving.” Topper hesitates, nervous as his eyes meet yours. “Rafe, he…he took some other stuff at the party.”

“I figured,” you sigh.

“He just kept driving faster the more he ranted about you.”

Your chest clenches. You glower at him.

“You’re supposed to be his friends, you and Kelce. You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

Your gaze darts around the hospital corridor.

“Where’s Kelce, anyway?”

Topper scratches the back of his neck.

“He…passed out in a bush at the party.”

Your shoulders sag. Typical Kook shenanigans. Not one of those boys could actually behave responsibly. All they ever do is enable each other and egg each other on to do stupid shit. Then they let someone else clean up their mess. Fatigue settles over you. You’ve been here before.

You glance at your phone. It’s beyond late. You walk up to Ward.

“I should probably go back home now. I only wanted to check on Rafe, make sure he's okay."

Crossing his arms, the Cameron patriarch astounds you when he utters, “Why don’t you stay at Tannyhill tonight?”

You flash a nervous smile.

“Mr. Cameron, Rafe and I-”

“I know you two are broken up, and I get that.” He heaves out a weary sigh as he considers Rafe. “I know my son has…issues, sweetheart, but he always did better around you.” His piercing gaze travels from Rafe to you. “He hasn’t been doing well since you left him.”

You recline into silence. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Rafe look this defeated. It worries you. You have no desire to give him the wrong idea but you also don’t see yourself just going home after hearing the things he shared with you. While you don’t plan on getting back with him, you can’t just abandon him.

“Okay. But just for tonight,” you specify.

Ward beams at you. “That's all I ask, sweetheart.”

You end up getting into a car with Ward, Rose and Rafe. Wheezie trails behind Sarah, as you let her borrow the keys of your truck to drive Topper back home. She promises to return them to you in the morning. A heavy quiet coats the air as you share the backseat with Rafe, his stepmom sitting in the front with Ward. He’s not even looking at you, his blue eyes glued to the window. Dejected, you twine your hands in your lap. You’re used to that, Rafe ignoring you when he’s upset. But tonight it stings even more, fueling the guilt simmering inside you.

As Ward’s car pulls into the long alley of the Cameron’s mansion, nostalgia tugs at your heart.

Tannyhill was practically a second home to you this past year. Your parents travel a lot for work and Rafe used to coax you into staying with him most nights, just so you’re not alone.

You don’t even think as you follow Rafe to his bedroom, your feet carrying you absently since you’ve done it so many times before.

You inspect the room. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here.

He grimaces as he struggles to remove his clothes while wearing the sling.

“I can’t get this fucking shirt off,” Rafe grumbles.

You trudge up to him.

“Let me help you.”

Rafe observes you, falling strangely quiet while you slip off his shirt for him. Your cheeks heat when you do the same for his pants.

When you’re done, you try to head for the door.

Rafe’s hand clutches yours, halting your departure.

“Stay… please, angel? You can wear one of my shirts like you used to.”

A forlorn expression decorates his features. Despite your best efforts, it tugs at your heartstrings.

You gnaw on your lip. “It’s probably best if I stay in the guest room.”

His thumb sweeps over the inside of your palm.

“I won’t try anything funny, I swear…if that’s what you’re worried about.” His brows draw together. “I’m just in so much pain, and I can barely move my arm.”

You unleash a resigned breath.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” When a playful smile creeps on his lips, your tone sharpens. “Rafe, I’m only here as your friend. I’m serious.”

His gaze narrows, suspicion sneaking in his tone. “Why? You’re like seeing somebody now or some shit?”

“No, I’m not.” You pause before adding cheekily, “And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.”

His cheek pulses.

A flicker of jealousy ignites his gaze, indicating that, in Rafe’s opinion, who you're seeing now is still very much his business. But his features smooth over quickly, his voice mellowing.

“I’d just feel better if you slept next to me, angel. I don’t feel like I’m asking for much, am I?” He pauses before sneering, “Or do you hate my fucking guts so much that I can’t even ask for a little favor?”

“I don’t hate you, Rafe.”

He cocks his head, hope lacing his deep timbre.

“Really? You don’t?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you admit.

A wide grin blooms on his face at that. He curls his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer.

“Then prove it. Stay with me tonight.”

His blue eyes are honest, pleading. Your resolve thaws like ice in the summer heat.

“Fine,” you yield. You gear yourself to leave, announcing, “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

The hand on your waist tightens as he teases, “Why not here? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

“Rafe,” you scold, prying his fingers off your waist.

He snickers, lifting his hand. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

A pang of melancholy pierces your chest when you pick one of Rafe’s shirts to wear in bed. It feels a little weird sharing a bed with him when you’re not together anymore.

When you step out of the bathroom, you steal a glance at him. The blanket only covers half of his body, exposing the bare, suntanned muscles of his chest. You ignore Rafe’s smirk as he catches your lingering gaze. Averting your eyes, you make your way to your side of the bed.

You slip under the covers, reassured that he’s respecting your wishes by giving you space. But it doesn’t last.

In the middle of the night, you’re forced to berate him for breaking the boundaries you set.

His good arm snakes around you, his broad chest draping over your back.

“Rafe…”

He nuzzles your neck from behind, humming as he basks in your smell. “Please, just let me have this,” he begs.

You sigh. You don’t have it in you to deny Rafe tonight. Not when he could have died. Not when you feel some responsibility for that.

“Okay, but no wandering hands.”

He nods and snuggles even closer to you. You can’t help but grow a bit dizzy as the familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne clogs your senses.

You close your eyes and drift into sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to Rafe dragging his fingertips along your cheek, an entranced expression etched on his features.

“I missed waking up like this,” he rasps.

For a while, as you get lost in how bright and blue his eyes look in the soft morning glow, you forget. Remembrance settles over you however when Rafe’s thumb travels to your bottom lip. This is the kind of thing you can’t allow anymore.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and remove his hand from your face.

“Well don’t get used to it.”

Rafe’s brows crumple. “Ouch. When did you get so mean, angel?”

“I learnt it from you.”

He actually seems taken aback by that, speechless as he gapes at you.

His surprise allows you to make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower,” you chime, slamming the door closed before he can make another comment that sends your heart in a frenzy.

You use Rafe’s time away in the bathroom to focus on another task. A very important task. One you call the post-bender sweep. It’s a little tragic that you even have a name for it, or that you’ve had to do it so often. So you roll up your sleeves and begin rummaging through all of Rafe’s drawers. No corner of the room is left unchecked.

It’s how he finds you as he steps out of the shower, damp blonde locks grazing his forehead, the towel hanging low on his tapered waist.

Confusion fills his cobalt eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I know you weren’t just drunk last night Rafe. Topper told me everything.”

“Fucking snitch,” Rafe hisses. He inches closer to you. “Look, I’m gonna get it together, alright?”

You crouch near the bed and reach under the mattress. Rafe’s face goes taut as you feel between the wooden slats. “Angel-”

Your fingers dislodge a plastic bag between the slats. You examine its insides.

“Coke, expected. Well that…is new. Is that meth?” you list sourly. You wish you could say you were disappointed. Instead, you’re just exhausted and vaguely angry. This is a step back. A huge one. “This is poison, Rafe.”

You get to your feet and dash to the bathroom. As you empty every ounce of powder, crystals and every single pill into the toilet bowl, Rafe grips the side of his head. Panic flickers on his face.

“That’s 10k down the drain.”

“Well, Barry can go through me. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

You flush the toilet and meet his eyes. Their intensity has you shifting in discomfort.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

His lips slowly curve upward.

“You still care about me.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink and shuffle away from the toilet. False hopes, you recall, you weren’t supposed to give them to him. You decide to steer him away from that line of thought.

“Of course I do,” you reply. “You’re my friend.”

Rafe’s smile vanishes. His tone becomes clipped. “Friends, huh? Okay.”

Your plans to only stay the night are thwarted at breakfast. After sharing a copious meal with the Camerons, Ward pulls you aside, practically begging you to prolong your presence at Tannyhill for his son’s sake.

“You and I both know he needs you, sweetheart.”

At first, you’re hesitant. This wasn’t the plan. You’ve fought so hard against the instinct not to put Rafe’s needs and wants before your own. Tooth and nail quite frankly. The first week after your breakup, not picking up when he called made you physically ill.

You wept about it for days, and almost ran right back into his arms. Without your friends, you probably would have.

Now, your life’s back on track. You can breathe again. You’re happier. The crippling fear of what Rafe would say or think does not hover over your every move anymore.

When Sarah returns your truck’s keys, you consider driving yourself back home and never looking back. Your fingers curl around the keys. It’s right there beneath your palm, your freedom. But there’s just one tiny issue. Rafe’s misty eyes catch yours across the table. And in less than a second, you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

So you remain at Tannyhill much longer than you’d like, taking care of Rafe and spending nights in his arms. The ambiguity of the situation fosters doubts in your mind, threatening the fragile equilibrium you found.

So as soon as Rafe’s noticeably improved, you elect to go back home. One morning, you rise with the sun and start collecting all the things you left behind in his room. It’s imperative to create some distance between you and him again. After all, you’ve gone above and beyond. Initially, this was about checking on your friend. A blind man could see that Rafe wants more than that however. You fear things will spiral to a point of no-return if you don’t leave now. You did so well these last few weeks, getting over Rafe. Or trying to at least. Now all that hard work is on the rocks.

Displeasure paints Rafe’s features as he watches you shove as many of the stray objects you scattered in his space inside your bag. You ended things so abruptly the first time that you never bothered coming back to collect everything you left in Rafe’s room.

“Come on, you could stay a little longer,” he pleads.

“It’s time for me to go home, Rafe.”

“Then just stay the night. You can leave tomorrow.”

“Rafe, it’s been well over a week.”

He sucks his teeth, sniggering meanly, “That excited to be rid of me, huh?”

Your forehead creases.

“It’s not like that.”

Rafe scoffs, “Nah, I get it. You’ve moved on and you never want to see me again, right?”

“Rafe…”

His fingers thread through yours, drawing you back to him. Towering above you, he whispers, “It's just one night. It won’t be different from the other ones. I just want to be able to feel you one last time.”

You purse your lips. You could never say no to anything Rafe asks when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping his head above water.

It's probably not a great idea. Rafe’s been getting handsier than you’d like these last few days, and you didn’t have the heart to push him away. But what’s one more night? You’ll be gone tomorrow anyways.

“Okay,” you concede.” But I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

A victorious grin breaks out on his face.

“Of course, angel.”

At first, your last night at Tannyhill does indeed seem like the others. You slip under the covers next to Rafe, as you’ve done every other night. His light snores fill the room, his arm finding its way around your waist. Like always. You’ve gotten used to this. You don’t protest, finding comfort in the knowledge you’ll be done with everything Rafe Cameron the next day.

So you let him get close once more. His heat encases you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You don’t even give much thought to the thick bulge poking the small of your back. This is Rafe. He grows hard half the time when you cuddle. Usually, you get him to back off with a frown and a light shove on his chest.

But tonight’s different.

He starts rubbing against you, his hand sneaking below the shirt covering your body.

“Rafe? What are you doing?” you whisper, your voice high-pitched from shock.

“Shh, quiet, angel,” he hushes, trailing sloppy, heated pecks along your neck and shoulder.

“Rafe, you can’t…” Your voice dwindles to a gasp when his digits creep between under your ass, teasing your folds through your panties. He pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingertips. You bite down a sharp cry.

“I said I wanted to feel you one last time, angel.”

He shoves a finger inside your panties and sinks between your walls. The embarrassing squelching of your cunt echoes in the room, Rafe beginning to pump inside you at a steady pace. Naturally, he knows exactly how to move his fingers to turn you into a panting, shivering mess against him. You try to resist it, ignore the fire rising in your core, but your skin is easily set ablaze by Rafe’s familiar touch. Your belly knots. Tingles bloom on your flesh. He sweeps along your tender spots and you choke on your spit.

Heat gathers in your face as you grow slicker beneath Rafe’s hand.

He tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Rafe shifts position. He places himself above you and shimmies out of his boxers. Alarm bells ring inside your head when his thick tip prods at your entrance.

“Rafe…”

Words wither on your tongue as he buries his cock inside you in one blunt thrust. A quiet scream flies from your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Don’t be like this,” Rafe grunts, arrogance dripping from his lustful timbre. “I know you’ve been missing how my fat cock feels inside that tight little pussy, right?”

“We’re broken up, Rafe,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as your walls strain at his size.

“So?” He pulls out of you, only to sheathe himself inside your wet heat again. Your eyes roll back, your fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

Rafe’s half-lidded gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his tone getting possessive.

“You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt. I’d say that makes you mine.”

The protests on your tongue evaporate, your thoughts dipping into a tailspin as Rafe slams his cock inside your dripping cunt. Desperation and lust marks each of his deep, pointed thrusts. Your head tosses over the pillows.

Stars fill your sight, pleasure swirling through your limbs. Air dwindles in your lungs as he stretches you out deliciously. His thick cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly and your lids flutter. Rafe’s own breaths grow more ragged. His throat bobs, his hard muscles clenching with his motions. He balances his arm above your head, looming over you as sweat dots on his brow.

His warm breath grazes your face as he chuckles.

“It’s like coming home, right? Like I never left.”

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I swear to you, angel.” He rests his forehead against yours. Rafe’s masculine scent floods your senses and your mind spins. You keen as he snaps his taut hips into yours, helpless as Rafe cages you with his frame. “Just don’t leave me again, okay? Please, I need you.”

Over the next few weeks, while his arm is healing, you and Rafe relapse into old habits. First, it’s that night at his house, the one that stirs your unease for a while. Then it’s a quickie in the back of his truck after he offers to drop you off one day. Progressively, it becomes more than that. Dates and late night calls, like before.

Rafe complaining to you for hours about Sarah or the weight of his dad’s expectations. Rafe sending flowers to your doorstep. Rafe making butterflies swarm in your stomach when he tells you that you’re the only one who understands him.

The walls you erected crumble day by day, shattered by his persistence to win you back. He showers you with gifts and attention on a near daily basis now, even going as far as planning the most romantic evening for Valentine’s day. Though you had plans with your friends, Rafe is so adamant to have you all to himself that you ditch Galentine's day cocktails to be with him.

Slowly but surely, the Cameron heir weasels his way back into your heart.

Most of your friends aren’t thrilled with your decision, of course. Marissa in particular.

“Guys like him don’t change,” she tells you one night as he’s blowing up your phone with texts inquiring about your whereabouts. You fervently disagree. He’s just worried about you, you convince yourself. That's how much he cares.

Of course Rafe has changed. He’s earning your trust, one day at a time. He has his temper in check. He’s better now. He’s proven it several times.

Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Besides, though you struggle to admit it, there’s something intoxicating about being Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. A feeling so heady and electric. One you shamefully kind of missed.

You trust Rafe. Those are the words that keep playing in your mind as you wait for him downstairs. You fiddle with your solo cup, taking a tiny sip of your beer. Techno music blares from the speakers in Kelce’s living room. The girls next to you gossip about a crush on some guy you don’t know. You feign interest, giving a dull nod and a smile every now and then. Lavish, hedonistic Kook parties aren’t exactly your scene anymore. Rafe practically had to drag you here.

The initial plan was to meet with your friends tonight. But Rafe closed off when you told him that. He then pleaded with you to come. You caved in, because refusing him has been incredibly difficult since the accident. So you’ve stopped trying to argue with him.

You go along with most of what he asks, even if it stirs your discomfort at times.

You glance at the time on your phone.

Rafe said he needed to go to the bathroom earlier.

That was nearly thirty minutes ago. Your brows draw together. Taking a leak shouldn’t take that long in theory, right? Or are you this paranoid now?

Still, you can’t quell the dread tickling your insides. A sense of deja vu seeps through you.

Your feet carry you upstairs, guided by your urgent need to find Rafe.

Kelce’s house is huge and you nearly get lost multiple times. Your cheeks flame as you stumble upon a couple in one of the guest rooms. You hastily apologize and slam the door shut, resuming your search. It takes you a long time of blind wandering through endless corridors before you find him.

He’s indeed in a bathroom. At least that, he didn’t lie about…unlike the line of coke he’s snorting above the sink.

“Rafe?” you call, frozen on the doorstep. “What are you doing?”

A brief glimpse of panic flits across his face before he bursts out in laughter.

He makes his way to you and tilts your chin upward.

“It’s a party, I’m just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not the point. You promised...”

Rafe sniffs, wiping the remnants of white powder beneath his nose.

“Come on, just relax.” He crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of you on the door. It slams shut as Rafe presses his body against yours, his voice sinking to a lewd rasp. “Why don’t you and I get into the hot tub downstairs and…”

“No,” you assert. “You promised, Rafe. No more drugs.”

When he tries to cup your cheek, you shove his hand away. His jaw clenches.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up bitch?”

An astonished breath leaps off your throat.

“I’m sorry?”

Instead of apologizing, a broad grin stretches on his lips, “I’m just saying. Maybe you’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

You note the hollowness in Rafe’s eyes and the sweat glistening over his bare skin.

Tears rush to your eyes. You’ve learnt to recognize the signs. Empty promises, like always. Why did you expect things to be different this time?

You jump back from the door, slipping beneath Rafe’s arm. Wiping irate tears, you glare at him.

“This was a mistake. My friends were right. You’re never going to change.”

You are such a fool. The depth of his deception didn’t hit you until you saw him bent over that sink. You caught him this time. Who knows how many times Rafe lied right to your face?

Once more, you allowed him to drag you into his spiral, offering no resistance and believing every sweet word and promise.

Closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath. You think back to the last few weeks, to every time you surrendered an inch and Rafe took a mile. And you just let it happen. You land on a decision. This is the last time you let Rafe Cameron puppeteer his way back into your life.

You make a beeline for the exit. He impedes your path, towering over you as he stands before the door.

“Get out of my way, Rafe,” you hiss.

Rafe squints at you, taking slow, threatening steps towards you.

“Why? So you can leave me, again?” Something lurks in Rafe’s gaze, turning his blue eyes almost black. Chills crawl over your spine. You shrink, retreating as far as the restricted space in the bathroom allows. “No way, you’re not leaving me.”

You chew on your lip, a surge of adrenaline spiking through your veins. You try to run past him but he grabs your wrists and slams you harshly against the bathroom wall.

Your voice comes out a quivering sob.

“Rafe, don’t you dare…”

As you try to wrestle out of his hold, he bangs your head against the tiles. Sharp needles of pain pierce through your skull. You grow dizzy as your legs start shaking. Rafe uses the momentum to push you onto the floor.

“Dare what, huh? Take what’s mine?” he snarls. His broad body drapes over yours. You taste the liquor on his tongue as he steals your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. A sick laugh leaves him when you bite his lip, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills your mouth. Through your hazy sight, you watch with horror as Rafe unbuttons his pants.

He reaches under your dress, tearing your panties with one tug of his hand. Fear floods your veins. You writhe underneath him as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I think you’re forgetting, angel. You’re nothing without me.” His taunting whisper sears into your skin like a hot knife. “I made you, little Kook princess.”

Your mouth opens, a scream building in your throat. But it never makes its way past your lips, Rafe wrapping his hand around your neck as he impales you on his cock. Helpless whimpers roll off your tongue as he sets an unforgiving pace right away, ignoring each of your tearful pleas for him to stop. His scalding breaths ghost over your face. Beads of sweat drip from his skin to yours. Sobs shake your frame as you writhe beneath him, left with no other choice but to be the vessel for his anger and lust.

“I need you, just like you need me,” he mumbles hotly, trailing bites and kisses alongside your neck. The room dims around you with each painful stab of Rafe’s cock inside your bruised core.

The hand around your neck tightens, Rafe’s wrathful baritone edging on a roar.

“Don’t you ever try to leave me again. I won’t be able to take it, angel. In fact…” His lips skim over your earshell as he whispers, “I’d rather fucking kill you and myself before letting you walk out on me again.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #kook!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader

702 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 1 year

Note

hey there!! i love your stories!! can i please have a social media au where it’s a redbull driver reader soft launching her relationship with charles? okay love u! thank u!

grid love 🏎

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!redbull!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: sorry this took so long, anon! hope you like this hehehe 🤍 also lets pls pretend the faceclaim does drive for redbull, okay? okay. love u 2 anon (also this is purely ig posts hehe)

about: the last thing anyone expects is a redbull driver dating another from ferrari. a series of soft launches from you didn't help either!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,223,882 others

yourusername weekend shenanigans 🏁

redbullfan NOT HER CASUALLY SOFT LAUNCHING SOMEONE

ferrarigirl crying someone bagged the baddest bitch in f1

leclercluv That shadow looks an awful lot like Charles 😂😂😂😂

sainzzz55 reaching? we cant even see his face

leclercluv Charles was literally spotted at an Italian restaurant of the same setting today but okay 😂

maxverstappen Interesting

yourusername what's interesting about this? 🤨

maxverstappen Cause if I'm right, carlossainz55 and pierregasly owes me $50 🤣

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 1,223,122 others

yourusername french and princess treatment kind of night 🥂

dr3sainz ANOTHER SOFT LAUNCH?????

f1thusiast cryinggg shes got everyone and their mamas speculating on who her mystery man is 😭

carlossainz55 Max is so gonna owe me $50

maxverstappen No???

hamilt0n literal millionaires betting on $50 i have seen it all

leclercluv French?? Yeah it's Charles lol

redbullracing ❤️🤍

sainz55lec WHAT DO U KNOWWW RBR ADMIN

redbullracing Not much, as long as our golden girl is happy ❤️🤍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen, and 1,220,345 others

yourusername 16 times happier than i've ever been ❤️🤍

midnightleclercs not charles liking this 1 minute after it was posted 😭

pierrestsunoda he got her notifs on thats why

leclercluv Game over ladies that's literally Charles' car 😭

lecssainz isn't his car a ferrari pista?

leclercluv He was seen driving it around Barcelona today, apparently it's a new one 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen 🫣🫣🫣

gaslysfilm literally why use 16 when you can use another number 😭 the y/n-charles soft launch theory may really be real lol

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 1,992,221 others

yourusername drove this baby around today

leclercluv CHARLES' PISTA 😭

lecshamilton this fr the hardest soft launch anyone has ever done in history im afraid

redbullfan Yeah this shit confirmed this is all we needed lmao

pierregasly maxverstappen 💸 Pay up

charles_leclerc

liked by redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, yourusername, and 2,103,334 others

charles_leclerc My rival on track is my heart keeper off track ❤️

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly This is about the cheesiest thing you have ever done

scuderiaferrari Feeling all the feels right now ❤️

redbullracing This serves as our truce, off track?

lewishamilton WOAH.

carlossainz55 I told you, maxverstappen! Pierre and I win 😄

yourusername what is this bet anyway

maxverstappen Which one of you will hard launch first, you really failed me, Y/N 😔

yourusername if i beat you in canada next week you have to buy me a lifetime supply of my favorite foods 😋

charles_leclerc Bring it on, bull

yourusername not a fan of the nickname, red

f1fan HOTTEST COUPLE EVERRRR

charlossainz this is the ferrari and redbull crossover i did NOT expect

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: didnt know im still capable of doing a post of just ig pictures lmaooaoa ive been so used to adding twitter posts and let me tell u it takes SO MUCH time 😭

anyway i hope u like this, anon! thank you for reading 🤍

2K notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

his girl | x. talkin’ bout my girl

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, spoilers (!!!), more fluff, mentions of severe injuries, bad Spanish probably, so much multiverse shit

a/n: and that’s a wrap on another spiderverse series! wild. big thank you to everyone who read and supported the story! it was fun to write, and sorry for all the major plot twists and turns i threw in there i’m a little unhinged sometimes LMAO but in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy this last chapter🖤

his girl masterlist

previous chapter: ix. i’ve got sunshine

now reading: x. talkin’ bout my girl

end.

───────────────────────────────

You and Miles are back to being inseparable. And both you and him have never been happier. Rio is relieved, and so happy that the two of you are no longer just best friends, but partners. Jefferson feels the same way and is even more relieved that you know and are there for him as Spider-Man on top of it all. His parents missed having you around the house for a while, so they’re more than happy that you’re around basically all the time. Ganke sort of hates it because the two of you can be all lovey-dovey in front of him, but also doesn’t because you join in with him to make fun of Miles for being an idiot. Something the two of you agreed on was to never tell anyone else you were Black Cat. It could be too dangerous for you, and Miles doesn’t exactly like the thought of you going to jail for stealing.

What he does like is you’re sneaky enough to follow him into Spider Society when he goes. Sometimes he lets you sneak in with him. The first time, though, he was completely unaware you followed him. And when you popped up behind him, mask on, Miguel almost had an aneurysm.

“Why is there a Black Cat here?!” he yelled, and Miles, who didn’t even know you were there until Miguel said that, put his arm around you protectively. “Because she’s my girlfriend. And she is really good at following me without setting my sense off. We got a problem or something?”

“Yes, Miles, we do. Black Cats can’t be–”

“Remember that time you told me I shouldn’t exist? I remember that.”

“He told you that?” you feign ignorance. You know everything Miguel did to Miles, and you hate him because of that. But you pretend you don’t know because it gives you an excuse to look shocked and make him feel bad instead of your real feelings of being ready to fight him right now. And Miguel actually falls for it. “I NEVER–” he begins to protest, but cuts himself off with a sigh, shaking his head and muttering some things in Spanish. “If you do anything…” he points at you, and your mask fades away as you narrow your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t know if I did,” you say, and he groans. “Black Cats. Always the same,” he mutters, turning around and walking away.

From that point on, if you didn’t have anything to do, you would accompany Miles to Spider Society. And today was one of those days. The two of you are walking hand in hand when Gwen lands next to the two of you. “Hey lovebirds,” she says, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Hey, Gwen,” you say, and she joins the two of you. “What are you two up to today?” “Nothing, really. Actually, was gonna ask you, Pav, and Hobie if y’all had anything to do," Miles says and Gwen sighs. “Yeah, actually, Hobie and Pav are on a mission right now. And I have a father-daughter day planned with my dad so we can try to mend our relationship after he, y’know, threatened to arrest me and pulled a gun on me,” Gwen says, and you both nod, making noises of disgust and agreement. “Yeah, probably for the best you don’t miss that,” you say, and she nods. “Yeah. Oh! And then I someone you know might have a date with Mary Jane later,” Gwen says, and you stop walking, turning to her and grabbing her shoulders. “Are you for real?!”

“Yes! I finally asked her, and she said yes!” The two of you do The little teenage girl excited jump up and down action, and Miles grins. “Happy for you, Gwen, but can you please give me my girlfriend back, my hand is cold,” he says, motioning to the hand you abandoned to talk to Gwen. You and Gwen look at each other, rolling your eyes as you slip your hand back into his. Gwen glances at her watch. “Fine, I have to go anyways. Oh, I’ll see you two tomorrow at Hobie’s, right?”

“You know it,” Miles says, and she grins. “Great! Well, see you two later!” Gwen says, opening up a portal to her world and stepping through. You look at Miles. “So, what do you wanna do now?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Guess it’s just gonna be us hanging out. How tragic,” Miles says with a small smile on his face, and you shake your head. “Maybe I should see if there’s any museum or rich person I can steal from,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha,” he says, and you squeeze his hand. The two of you make your way to one of the common rooms, but before you can even sit down you hear someone call out Miles’ name.

You both turn your heads in the direction it came from and a new Spider-Woman lands beside the two of you. She takes her mask off, and your eyes get big. It’s you. “(Y/n)? like Earth 42, (Y/n)?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah! This is weird, right? I think it’s a little weird.”

“Uh, what’s weird is you’re me,” you say, pointing at you. “Oh! You fixed it!” 42 you says, high-fiving Miles. “I told you it’s weird, didn’t I?” Miles asks you, and you nod. He’d told you about how he was sent to an alternate universe with no Spider-Man and how he met himself there. And in doing so, met the you of that world, too. Now you’re looking at her… but he never mentioned she was Spider-Woman. But you gather he also didn’t know she was Spider-Woman by the way he motions to her suit. “When did… this happen?”

“The day you arrived and then promptly left, actually,” you say, “so about two weeks ago. You remember how Miles and Aaron went to Alchemax? Yeah, well, apparently they were developing a new spider similar to the spider that bit you, and it crawled into Miles’ duffle bag he had. He and I were sleeping in his room, and it crawled out, and he got up to go get water or something and it crawled over to me and bit me. Found it the next morning.”

“Oh? And you’re already here?” Miles asks, and you nod. “After we realized, which, by the way, absolutely fucking wild. You can heal overnight? That caught everyone off guard. Ms. Morales thought she was the next coming of Jesus Christ for a second, but anyway, after we figured out I had similar abilities to you, that Miguel dude showed up and offered me one of these little watches. He said he was happy this world had a Spider-Person now, but when he saw Miles, he did a whole ass double take and then muttered how he ‘can’t escape this kid’ in Spanish. Miles, of course, responded also in Spanish, and then he looked stressed and just left,” you explain, and Miles laughs. Even when he wasn’t around, he was plaguing Miguel with his existence in multiple universes. “Yeah, sorry for not warning you but he hates me.”

“We picked up on that,” you say, and then you look over at you. “Okay. time for me to be weirded out, why do I have an outfit that looks like Miles’ Prowler outfit?” you ask, and you shrug. “I’m Black Cat.”

“Also, she and Miles of your world are insanely intelligent engineers, inventors, and designers. Looks like they think the same way, too,” Miles says, wrapping his arm around you and looking at you proudly. “Oh! Do you wanna go see him? I told him the first thing I’d do is look for you and make sure you didn’t fuck up with me. And! The two of us have started to fix up New York! I’m sure he’d be happy to see you,” 42 you says, starting to fiddle with her watch. “Hell yeah! Totally, you okay with that, amor?”

“Of course. I’d like to meet this other Miles, maybe exchange some engineering ideas if his suit seems half as cool as you hyped it up to be,” you say, and 42 you grins to herself. You knew that he’d be able to figure it out, but it’s still so nice and refreshing seeing the Miles who was so distracted and in his head genuinely looking and feeling better with you by his side. The portal pulls up, and you motion the two of you to follow. You do, and end up in what looks exactly like Miles’ room, except instead of art supplies and sketches of Spider-Man stuff, it’s more geared towards technology and sketches for gauntlets. Of course, there’s now a mix of that with Spider-Woman sketches and ideas, but the other Miles’ blueprints and designed are what catch your eye immediately. They look very similar to yours, and you can’t help but read some of the notes on the pages. “Vibranium? Where the fuck did he get vibranium…” you mumble to yourself, and 42 you looks at the both of you. “Ms. Morales isn’t home, so we can be as vocal about our identities as we like. She does know about me, but not Miles still. Figured it would be fine for her to know about my shit but Miles is a little more… complicated,” you say, opening the door. 42 Miles turns his head. “Ay, ma, who you talking to?”

“Miles,” you say, motioning that 1610 Miles is back. “Que pasa, hermano?” 1610 Miles asks, and he and Miles dap each other up. You wave, and 42 Miles smiles at you. “Hola, preciosa,” he says, winking at you. Your Miles wraps his arm around you. “Woah, there, bro, that (Y/n) might is your girl. This (Y/n) is my girl” he says, kissing your temple. You smile a bit, and 42 Miles puts his hands up in surrender. “I may be your girl, but I do wanna talk to you,” you point at 42 Miles, “about the notes about a vibranium gauntlet design. Where the hell are you getting vibranium and how does it react with the PVC piping you used to on the fingers?” 1610 Miles shakes his head, and 42 Miles smirks. “You get it?” he asks, and you nod. “Oh, I get it. Now explain.”

“Ella lo consigue,” he says, turning to his (Y/n) who rolls her eyes. “Got the vibranium from a job about a week ago, no one was using it, so,” he shrugs, “decided it belonged to me.”

“Where?”

“Avengers Tower.”

“Shut up. How hard are their security systems?”

“Hard if you ain’t smart,” he says, and you nod. “Should be simple then.”

“Stop… stop planning on breaking into Avengers Tower in front of me, amor,” 1610 Miles says, and 42 you sigh. “Yeah, babe, same here. You know I’m gonna have to stop people from doing that shit now,” you mumble, as both 1610 you and 42 Miles roll your eyes. “It’s my job,” 1610 you and 42 Miles say at the same time. “It’s ours too!” 1610 Miles and 42 you say before Miles processes that the Avengers are on your Earth. “Wait, you have the Avengers here?” Miles asks 42 (Y/n), and you nod. “Yeah.”

“Why haven’t they fixed New York?”

“Oh, do your Avengers care unless it’s a world-ending event? What’s that like?” you ask him, and he scoffs. “That… is actually very correct. They are totally not like that,” Miles says, and you sigh. “This Spider-Woman shit is a lot of responsibility.”

“I hear that,” Miles grumbles, as the two of them watch 1610 you and 42 Miles discussing their tactics on how they break into places and comparing gadgets. Miles can’t help but think that it’s funny how ending up in the wrong universe gave him some new friends and helped him get the girl who has always been the girl he wanted, even if he was a little slow with it. But it also caused him so much distress, almost made him die, and showed him an alternate reality of how his life may have ended up.

Man, this multiverse shit is confusing.

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

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mickandmusings · 2 months

Text

vi. 'tis the damn season

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?

'Dear Honey,

I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.

Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.

I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.

Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.

My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.

I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.

All my love,

Jake'

Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.

She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.

She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.

Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.

Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.

Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.

Honey would never make it to the library that day.

Two weeks prior...

"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"

Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.

"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"

From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.

Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.

"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"

Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.

"Fine, what'dya want to know?"

Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.

"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."

Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.

"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."

"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"

Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.

Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.

"Definitely not."

"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."

"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."

Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"

Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.

"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."

Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"

Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.

"More than she'll ever know."

"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"

"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"

"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."

Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.

"Honey hates surprises."

"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"

Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.

Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.

"Honey, wait!"

The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.

"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"

Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.

"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"

Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.

"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."

He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.

"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.

"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."

His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.

"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"

He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.

From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:

"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."

Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.

"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"

She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.

"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."

She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."

He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.

"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."

Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.

"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"

The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.

"Why's that, baby?"

Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.

"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."

Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.

"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."

Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.

"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."

She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.

"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"

Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.

"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."

Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.

"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."

Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:

"Yes ma'am."

Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.

"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"

It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.

"Hm? What is it, baby?"

Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.

"Your phone is ringing."

Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:

"Hello?"

"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"

"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.

"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"

"Loud and clear."

"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."

"Love you too."

Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:

"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"

Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.

"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."

Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.

"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."

"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.

"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."

Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.

"Where did that come from?"

"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"

"Baby, I more than liked it."

He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.

"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."

Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.

"I'll get up as soon as you do."

Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.

"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."

"M'fine, just nervous."

Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"

"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."

"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."

Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.

"Want to really surprise them?"

Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.

"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.

"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.

"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."

His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"

Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.

"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.

"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"

Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.

"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.

"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."

"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."

She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.

The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.

"Smart move there, son."

Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."

Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.

Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.

"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."

"Hm, lead the way, baby."

That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.

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