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your-nanas-house · 9 months

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I have an idea for a smutty dark/Dom Tommy fic if you're open to writing it! I'm not sure on a plot but involing him wearing and keeping on his leather gloves, thank you in advance!!!

Yessssss, love it. Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Not a virgin anymore

(credits to the owner of the gif)

◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X Finn's girlfriend!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, age gap (both off age), fingering, dry humping, mean Tommy

◇ Summary: Tommy checks if Finn's girl is as pure as he claims.

◇ Note: Sorry if it took me so long. A huge thank you to @mrkdvidal1989 that helped me so much, you helped me so much with my mood and the writing of this. Thank you 😭 Also It's pretty much a collab.

“I think I wanna marry her” Finn informed his brothers without being able to hold back a bright grin, his eyes scanning them as he waited for a reply, any advice or.. a comment of any kind at least.

He knew that he was quite young to think about marriage, since he hit adulthood just two years before, but the emotions he felt for this young woman were true.

As no one opened their mouths to say something, just continuing to glance at each other, Finn spoke up again ”I fookin’ love her” his mood still so eager and happy.. like a puppy in love.

Still nothing, everyone was mostly waiting for Thomas to say something, but the older man kept staring blankly at his younger brother, seated on his armchair.. legs open and arms resting there, supporting his head and cigarette as if he was lost in thoughts.

“Nothing to say?” Finn asked, getting impatient, his eyes glancing between the older ones, Tommy and Arthur.

As the youngest brother got clearly frustrated, Arthur cleared his throat.

“Hmm… you fookin’ know her for how long, eh? Nearly six months?” he reminded his brother, mocking him before being interrupted quickly

“SO? When John married he didn’t even know Esme’s damn name!” Finn quickly pointed out, already getting riled up by the situation.

Fin always did that. Hating how his brothers treated him because of the age difference, completely oblivious to the fact that he… was acting very childish too often for Tommy to see him as an equal to John or Arthur.

His poorly thought-out decisions and lack of discipline when it came to listening to orders of his older brothers were playing a huge part in how Thomas viewed him.

”Have you thought about the responsibilities that come with becoming a Shelby, Fin? Have you already introduced them to your chosen one? Risk Our ways and how we deal with things?.. Have you thought about that? Huh?” He pressed, leaning forward as his patience ran short with how snappy Fin was. Lack of respect was just another thing he despised in his younger brother.

”I-I…” The young man stammered out, looking for any line to defend himself.. unsuccessfully, making Thomas scoff while putting out his cigarette into an ashtray.

”What’s her name again?...” He rasped out, his now free hand tapping impatiently against the fabric of the armchair, his cold gaze piercing his brother's face without a hint of any positive emotions.

“Y/n..Y/n Y/l/n” Finn replied in a murmur, his older brother’s comments affecting him more than he wished they would.

The name kept repeating in Thomas’ head, before a cocky amused smirk cracked his serious expression.

“Now I get why yer want to marry her” he chuckled bitterly leaning forward, face to face with Finn.

“She’s as good as her mother, eh?” he asked mockingly, pouring himself a glass of whiskey “You don’t marry whores, you just tame them, Finn. Am I right?” he asked his other two brothers with amusement in his voice, not really expecting an answer.

His mischievous mood changed quickly as Finn suddenly got up from his seat.

“She’s not!.. She’s not like her mother.. She's a good girl, goes to church, helps around and works in the local bakery." The youngest Peaky Blinder informed them, narrowing his eyes at Tommy’s reaction. Watching with a clenched jaw as the older man hummed mockingly, gulping fast down the strong drink before he spoke again, not changing his attitude.

“A good girl, huh… I bet”, making the other laugh at Finn as well.

“It’s true! You… I’ll make you fookin’ meet her”

It took him just a couple of days to organise a meeting between them, inviting them all to her house. It was a pretty cosy, little, modest house settled in Small Heath. Nothing fancy but it was visible that the people living there were doing their very best to keep it nice.

The male part of the family of Shelby's stood on the porch on the agreed day and time.

Their expensive suits looking odd contrasting with the domestic and homey look of the building and little wooden decorations standing in the garden.

Finn was smiling, standing at the forefront of the group while Arthur and John kept joking back and forth, in front of Tommy, whose face remained serious and uninterested as he waited.

After knocking on the door, they didn't have to wait long before an old woman, probably in her 60s, appeared in the doorway. A friendly smile lingering on her wrinkled face that looked great accompanied by the dark pink dress she wore.

”Good morning, Mister” She spoke up seeing Finn, earning a polite smile from him. They clearly had met each other previously, so she wasn't very alarmed by the sight of four men in suits standing at the door. “Good morning, nana” Finn greeted, removing his hat for respect, cleaning his shoes before entering the familiar house, heading directly towards the living room.

John was the next to enter the house, along with Arthur, a smirk still on his face due to the jokes they were sharing previously

“Good morning, na— Mrs. Y/l/n” he corrected himself quickly as Arthur slapped the back of his head “Be fookin’ polite” he murmured under his breath, smiling at the older woman before kissing her hand as he bowed his head slightly “Good morning, ma’am, thank you for inviting us into your house” he stated, winking before following the direction Finn took, not noticing the weird side eye Tommy gave him as he cleaned his soles before walking in as well with the same unbothered expression.

”Mornin’” Thomas nodded, keeping his cap on. After all he didn't come here for a tea, he had his own purpose.

Purpose of proving Finn how wrong he was when it comes to little Y/n.

The older woman’s eyes widened as she felt the weird, intimidating aura surrounding the middle brother. Mumbling her greeting, she quickly disappeared into the kitchen, chatting with Arthur and John as she put the kettle on the stove.

As Finn tried to head towards the same direction, Tommy's calloused hand grabbed his shoulder roughly. Turning him to face him, he leaned to his level. The serious and business expression on his face.

”I’m going to have a chat with your little fiancé, eh? You stay there and entertain the old woman and your brothers while I check if she is who you say she is.” he stated harshly in a fierce voice, his eyes glancing at the older woman and back at him before messing up his hair as if he was still a child.

Ignoring completely the worried expression on his face, because Thomas was aware that Finn knew better than to ask questions.

The younger brother stood still for a moment before nodding with a resigned expression, turning around and slowly walking away towards the kitchen. Practically leaving his girlfriend in the lion's mouth.

It was Tommy’s first time in that house so he didn’t really know where to go, luckily for him Y/n’s soft voice led him to what it looked like a small studio. A pretty dark room, with only one window which was close, it was decorated with lots of books and a wooden desk where the young woman was standing behind, holding an old phone, busy talking with someone.

”Yes, aunty. I'll let her know” she replied with a smile, despite the fact that the person on the other side of the phone couldn't see it, her hand busy playing with the tiny golden chain with a cross. Her eyes moving from the spot she was staring at to move closer to the desk “I have to leave you now, we were supposed to have guests today.. I think they are here already” she informed her, glancing towards the door, getting startled by Tommy’s figure standing there as if he owned the place.

He didn’t say anything to interrupt her call, his gloved hands just woven together in front of him, his head tilted to the side as he watched the girl.

“I love you too, auntie. Bye” she murmured, hanging up the call to give Tommy’s her complete attention

“Mr Shelby— Welcome, I didn’t hear you come in…” she started, eyeing him suspiciously, her innocent girl facade. staring back at him.

“Nana doesn’t like when people wear caps inside of her house… it’s a way to show respect” she pointed out, already a bit annoyed by his attitude. Thomas chuckled hearing her words, as he adjusted the peaky cap on his head.

”Nana didn't offer me a cup of tea, which isn't really polite either, eh?” He spoke up with a hint of mockery before entering her room and closing the door behind, making sure to lock it.

“She’s probably still preparing it, we have fresh baked cookies, though.” Y/n pointed out as her expression softened. Her demeanour changed as she tried to keep her temper down. It should have been a calm day but a lot of things that set her off happened, so she wasn’t in the right state of mind to deal with Tommy fucking Shelby.

Be proper, Y/n thought just like she was always told. Plastering a small smile on her face, her eyes moving from Thomas’ face to the door and back. “They are in the living room, sir,”

Tommy chuckled at her words, walking slowly further into her room, looking around with a grin as he hummed.

“That's one way to decorate a girl's room, eh?” He scoffed, eyeing her suggestively, touching the colourful figurines standing on shelves. ”Definitely furnished to be a whore's own.” he casually pointed out, checking the books casually. “Guess they paid your mom good enough, huh? Family business it is, sweetheart?” the older man moved his gaze towards her standing form, smirking amused at her blank stare.

“Pardon?” she stuttered out through her utter shock, her head tilting to the side.“You here to disrespect a dead woman, Mr Shelby? If so.. You can fucking leave!” she spat out angrily, staring blankly at him for a couple of minutes before sighing and looking away, playing nervously with her cross while she headed to the door.

“My condolences… I’m here because of the sick idea you put in my little brother’s head” Tommy spoke in an emotionless tone, reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket.. Lighting one without even asking for approval.

“Finn talked about you quite a lot lately, speaking about how pure, innocent, religious… and a good girl you are. You got him quite smitten, eh?” Thomas pointed out after inhaling deeply, his hand rubbing his chin “Well… what I was wondering about was how much of this is actually true.” He murmured, meeting her gaze with a smirk as he moved closer, hand reaching for her chin. “How much of a little saint you actually are, eh? Sweetheart.” he added, blowing out the smoke in her face, his fingers digging painfully into her skin as she looked into his empty, blue eyes.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his harsh tone, her eyes narrowing as her mouth remained shut. Struggling in his grip, she tried to free herself, unsuccessfully.

She was losing her patience quite quickly and it wasn't something that happened frequently… but there she was, angrily standing in front of what was the most feared man of Birmingham.

“I am.. I'm.. intact, if that's your concern, Mr. Shelby” She informed him in a sarcastically pleasant tone, a hint of harsh arrogance clear as day, caused by how annoyed she was by the conversation they were having.

Her small hands curling into fists, squeezing tightly when Tommy just nodded almost mockingly, his icy stare moving across her body slowly, carefully measuring each part of her body. Not worried about gentlemanly manners, Thomas stared, as if he was checking her out.

“Sure” he simply said, the tone of his voice intact, but the look in his blue eyes wasn't trying to hide how little he believed her. Putting out his cigarette, he threw it on the floor while keeping eye contact, showing disrespect to her words and the place she lived. Simply because he could.

Y/n gasped at his behaviour, quickly moving towards his silhouette as she pushed her finger against his chest, threatening.

“I fucking am, fucking check if you don’t believe me.” she whispered yelled, staring in his eyes boldly as he looked down at her, not a single emotion visible on his face. Almost like he was a statue carved from stone.

Tommy’s eyebrows raised slightly, his cold stare piercing her own, before lowering down to her chest which kept heaving with her deep breaths, caused purely by the anger she felt.

His hand moved to the edge of her dress, grabbing onto the fabric as he tried to raise it up, making Y/n realise his intention quickly and act impulsively… her hand made an impact with his cheek suddenly, throwing his face to the side slightly. Only after a second she realised what she's done, eyes widening in fear at the sight of his skin turning red.

The loud noise echoing in the room, as Tommy’s, now, dark gaze met her fearful eyes. Not a word was exchanged as his hands grabbed her roughly when she tried to escape from him, manhandling her smaller body harshly against the wooden surface of the desk. One hand kept her body flat against it, pressing painfully on the centre of her back, while his other gloved hand pulled up her dress.. revealing her white panties to him.

A hum of approval escaped his lips as he kneaded her flesh, ignoring her whimpers and pleads to stop. The view in front of him, so strangely innocent and pure, made his cock hardening in his pants, in a quite painful way.

Lowering his icy eyes with his hand he moved her thighs apart, rubbing slowly two thick fingers against her clothed folds.

”Look at that, already wet” he cooed mockingly as he moved his fingers, spreading her wetness by using the fabric of her panties.

His left hand digging in the flesh of her covered back, to hold her down and to keep his urges under control. It took much more self-control than he thought it would, not expecting that a girl that pretty would take interest in his inexperienced little brother.

Her eyes were tightly shut, forcing her mouth to stay closed, to make sure she wasn't making any noises. Her mind was a mess as his hands travelled down her heat, touching the places that nobody else ever saw.

As soon as his thumb pressed on her clit, her hips involuntarily jerked forward as she bit her bottom lip, trying to muffle the sigh that so desperately tried to escape her lips.

”So needy, eh? What would your grandma think?” Thomas chuckled, feeling how her body tensed, her hands trying to reach him, and push him off, unsuccessfully.

The young woman was so focused on trying to make him stop that she didn’t notice the moment when he pulled her panties to the side, allowing the cold breeze of the room to hit her wet bare pussy.

“No, please– sir!” she yelled in a moment of panic, Tommy’s free hand quickly covering her mouth as he toyed with her folds, opening her so that he could take a look that sent shivers down his spine. That sure was a pretty pussy, he thought while daring to move his index finger to her entrance.

Her sweet nectar wetting his gloved hand, making it even more noticeable “Look at you, sweetheart” he cooed mockingly again, as his finger pushed slightly deeper, in need to find out the truth.

Angling it slightly to the side, with a tip of his digit he could feel the thin barrier that was in the way of her tight tunnel.

Shaking his head, he leaned towards her, his wet lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

”So innocent, aren't you? Such a small, untouched cunt.” He breathed out, the urge to fuck her becoming increasingly stronger.

Letting out a breath, he pressed his index finger inside without even warning her… just grunting quietly into her ear, as she bit down his hand because of the pain.

So tight and warm, he thought. Tommy could feel how wet she was as he moved his gloved finger against her walls, biting on his bottom lip as he kept going further.

By the way she was moving it looked like it hurt her, as if she was feeling the burning sensation. One felt by a pure woman when her cherry was about to be popped.

“I guess you were right, honey” Tommy hummed, now circling her clit with her gloved hand, his middle finger helping his index one to feel her hymen before pressing against it harshly. Leather covering his hands caused his fingers to appear even thicker, stretching her pussy out so much that they both had to fight the urge to groan at the feeling.

Tommy's cock was fully hard at this point, leaking with precum into his underwear as his fingers explored the depths of her virgin pussy.

His eyes daring to close, so that his mind could wander in places it shouldn’t. The mere thought of his thick cock wrapped and squeezed for dear life by her pussy was driving him wild, making his finger start to thrust faster as he moved his hips against nothing, just unable to fight the fantasy that he was inside of her precious cunt.

“Fuck, that’s it, honey” he praised, moving his wrist in a quick motion, leaning closer again. His hot breath hitting her neck with each exhale. ”I knew you were a little slut.” He rasped out in a shaky voice, struggling to keep his composure while feeling her pussy clench down on his fingers like a vice.

“Can feel your filthy cunt squeezing my fingers. Yer fookin’ close, aren’t ye?” he growled in a low tone, parroting back mockingly her noises of pleasure.

Y/n cried out at the humiliation and the overwhelming feeling in her lower belly. Despite her desperate attempts to not give into it, she couldn't fight it as he kept fucking her with his thick, gloved fingers.

”Give it to me. Stop fighting it.” He commanded through his teeth, as he felt his cock throbbing impatiently in his pants, demanding attention.

”N-no!” She pleaded quietly, trying her best to suppress the tension that pushed her on the edge of her first orgasm. Breathing deeply, she caught his wrist, trying to stop him, but Tommy just laughed quietly.

”There you go” He whispered, leaving a small kiss on her temple before shoving his fingers knuckle deep, fucking her with hard and quick strokes, curling his fingers up to hit her g spot with each thrust.

His other hand was clamped over her mouth, which she ended up biting as he made her cum so hard, that just a couple seconds into the orgasm, her body shook and vision went blurry as her juices shot out on his hand, wetting his glove when she squirted for the very first time in her life.

Y/n’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she trembled, muscles relaxing as the feeling got… way too much. She was too long gone in her pleasure to notice at first the sound of his belt clicking open, the zip of his pants being pulled down with the fabric, so that his cock was finally free.

After licking his gloves from her wetness, he grabbed a hold of her hips, pressing his rock hard cock against her flesh, hsi eyes fluttering shut when he started to move his hips. Grinding at an animalistic pace, his main goal his own pleasure.

He needed to rub his cock, keeping it squeezed tightly between their bodies, for a couple of minutes to finally shoot his load on her lower back.

As they both breathed heavily, he moved carefully away from her, gathering his cum with his hand to shove it in her mouth before fixing his suit and walking out of the room without a word.

He walked followed with the same powerful aura, at a fast pace towards the front door

“Let’s go” Thomas ordered his brothers while walking to the front door, patting Finn’s shoulder with a serious expression

“She’s not a virgin… anymore” he informed him as he stole a cookie and walked out, nodding at the old lady with a crooked grin.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter, @mrkdvidal1989

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neptuneiris · 1 month

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (09/10)

The Consequences

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: things get complicated, you and Aemond's relationship ends and despite finding solutions, nothing can repair the damage to your ruined future.

word count: 8.3k

previous part • series masterlist

fortunately it didn't take me as long as last time and finally here it is hehe🙏😚

I really hope you like it a lot and remember that we're not far from the end, so I'm looking forward to your comments with your opinions. thank you very much for reading beautiful people!❤

You want to believe it's all a misunderstanding.

You couldn't sleep all night. Anxiety and worry consumed you like never before, waiting and checking your mail every moment hoping to see if anything would arrive, but nothing.

Your whole night was summed up in thinking about possible catastrophic scenarios, although they were not possible after all, since that is what is really going to happen because at this point there is nothing you can do because the college applications have already passed.

That's why you checked your email every moment, almost on the verge of tears, thinking about what the fuck you're going to do, how you're going to go to college and why Aemond didn't keep his end of the deal.

There was the urge to text him and even call him in all your desperation and confusion, ask him what happened, but you decided to wait until the next morning to ask him in person to get clear answers.

And that's what you're going to do now.

You don't even know if you are right but there is no other explanation when things are too clear. And you can't help but feel the pain of betrayal burning in your chest, with the anxiety consuming you and the need.

You finally arrive at the school, where without thinking of absolutely nothing, you start searching for Aemond through all the hallways, with determination and rage mixed inside you.

Your eyes frantically search through all the students as you walk quickly and make your way through them all, ignoring their stares at you as you don't care at the moment, you have a goal in mind.

And along with that goal and what you have to do now, still your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more painful and confusing than the last.

After all the moments you both spent together, both real and pretend, every laugh, every gesture, every kiss, it all seemed so real and so genuine.

But now… it all felt like a cruel illusion.

And to have to accompany it all with this, it's just unbelievable.

You finally see him in the distance, it's not hard to make out his distinctive silver hair, with his figure walking towards the doors leading to the huge backyard of the school, talking to some friends.

Anger and sadness intensify as you see him looking so calm, as if nothing is going on, made worse by the fact that he won't try to contact you either to let you know anything about the university, or even give you the news himself, anything.

You clench your fists and muster up all your courage before reaching for him, feeling completely hopeless.

“Aemond,” you call out to him, your voice tense and cutting.

He turns to you at the call of your voice, his expression changing from surprise to slight concern in an instant. His friends continue walking and he remains standing, as you walk towards him.

And you don't even give him time to speak, as you immediately raise your phone, showing him the college's Facebook ad on the screen.

“What is this?” you ask him, demanding explanations, confusion and pain reflecting in your eyes.

You feel your voice tremble, but you stand your ground, holding his gaze with a determination that belies your vulnerability.

He watches the screen and you see the worry spread further across his face, followed by a nervousness that runs through him from head to toe. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem caught in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a barely audible whisper, leaning toward you and with sorrow in his gaze, ”I-I didn't want you to find out like this.”

The knot in your stomach tightens even tighter as the worry and anxiety intensifies, watching him without understanding.

“And what does that mean?”

He looks to all sides, noticing the number of students surrounding you who begin to watch you both curiously, whispering amongst themselves.

“Come,” he says softly as he places a firm but careful hand on your shoulder and guides you into one of the empty classrooms, away from the stares.

You don't argue with him because you don't want to draw attention to yourself either, but as soon as he closes the door behind you, you feel the pressure in your chest intensify and you immediately turn to him, the need for answers burning inside you.

“You didn't talk to your grandsire or your sister?” you ask, your voice trembling between anger and the anxiety you're trying to contain.

He looks down for a moment, swallowing hard. His silence hangs heavy in the air before he looks up at you, his eyes showing a mixture of weariness and regret.

“Yes, with my grandsire,” he states to you, "But I'm still working on it," he confesses with his tone infused with a sincerity that hurts you more than you expected.

You feel your breath catch and you watch him in shock, with your lips parted and hopelessness all over your gaze, trying to process what he just said. The hopelessness is reflected in your gaze, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration that you struggle to hold back.

“What?” you manage to say, your voice cracking in disbelief.

He takes a step toward you, his eye fixed on yours as he tries to remain calm, though you can see the tension in the way his hands move, as if he's searching the air for the right words.

“Listen,” he begins, your tone softer and almost pleading, ”It's not entirely true that the whole admissions process is over. There are still… possibilities,” he says nervous, ”And I promise you that I've already sent all your documents to my grandsire. I just need a little more time to be able to convince him, and I will, I swear.”

He tries to convince you, observing you completely honest and sincere in what he is saying, but you no longer believe in him.

His words are like a desperate attempt to calm you down, to reassure you that everything will be okay. But distrust grows inside you with a sharp pain that spreads throughout your chest.

You watch him, looking for some sign to give you hope, some spark of certainty you can cling to. But all you see is uncertainty and nervousness, insecurity, because even he doesn't know if he will get you in.

You think about the announcement, how the university has already sent out all the emails, both acceptance and rejection. Then reality hits you like a slap in the face, and suddenly you understand.

“You… you got in?” you ask in a breathy whisper, though deep down you already know the answer.

He doesn't answer you right away, as instead of words, all you get is his look, a mixture of pity and embarrassment that only confirms it.

“Yes but you'll get in Y/N too,” he quickly insists, his voice desperate to convince you, ” You don't need to worry about anything.”

How easy it is to talk when he is the one who certainly should not worry about his future.

And finally the tears find their way, unable to control them any longer. You press your lips together tightly, trying to keep your composure, but the pain and frustration are too intense.

Aemond stirs restlessly, hating to see you cry. His hands tense, wanting to reach out and be able to hug you, but he restrains himself and watches you with concern.

“Y/N—

“ You don't even know if you'll be able to get me in too,” you interrupt him in a cold and distant voice, laden with bitterness with the feeling of betrayal and disappointment in your chest, “I trusted you, that's why I didn't apply to other colleges,” you look at him hurt and annoyed, “Now what am I supposed to do? The time for applications has already passed. I can't apply anywhere else because this, your promise, should have been settled long ago.”

Your words echo in the air, and the reality of the situation settles between the two of you like a barrier. He is affected by your words and falls silent, not knowing how to respond.

Worst of all, you know that he really wanted to help you, that his intentions were sincere, that's what you really want to think in the midst of all this.

But did he really want to help you in the first place?

If that was really his intention, then you wouldn't be in this position right now, in this situation that should never have been allowed. And you also remember Floris.

The tension is palpable and you feel the lump in your throat tighten even more and you look at him with pain.

“You used me,” you say with your voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his gaze full of despair.

“No, it wasn't like that,” he tries to correct with his pleading tone as he takes a step closer to you, “That was never my intention Y/N, you know that.”

You pull away from him, increasing the distance between the two of you, tears gathering more in your eyes and this time you make no effort to hold them back.

“I know because of what happened with Floris,” you say bitterly, ”And the worst thing is that I did like you.”

Your words leave him speechless for a moment, his expression marked by a mixture of regret and pain. He reaches out a hand toward you, as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you abruptly pull away.

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“There's nothing to explain,” you cut him off, unable to bear to listen to him any longer.

You feel something inside you crack and he seems to notice your change, to which he doesn't know what to do.

He tells you something else but you no longer listen. The broken promises, the destroyed trust, it all piles up on your shoulders, making you feel smaller and lonelier than you ever felt before.

The pain on his face is evident and when you finally decide to walk away, Aemond tries to stop you, tries to remedy the situation, but you don't even hear him anymore, you don't even see him, it's as if he is suddenly invisible and you leave him behind with pain and bitterness branded on your chest.

All because you realize that he, his promises, his words, were never worth it. And now you're paying the consequences of your future ruined by an absurd contract you should never have accepted in the first place.

You feel as if the world has fallen on top of you.

All the way home, you feel a mixture of intense emotions overflowing and the only way you can get them off your chest is to cry.

You are thankful that your father is still at work or else you would have had no idea how to explain your visibly pitiful state to him. Besides you don't even have the courage to really tell him what's going on.

But all is probably not lost.

Anxiety, despair and frustration wash over you as you sit in front of your laptop. But it also invades you and you cling to hope. You want, desire and yearn to find a solution, one last chance to not lose an academic year, so you open the browser.

Your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, as you search the admissions pages of other universities.

You visit one after another, hoping to find one that is still accepting applications, one that might have a deadline extension. But as you read and watch, that hope fades.

The words ‘admission perido has ended’ are repeated over and over again on every page you visit.

You try a small college in another city, then the only two available in your own city, but in all the answers are the same. Time has run out. The deadline has passed and there is no way to reverse it.

Frustrated, you hold your hands to your head, feeling the despair and anxiety growing inside you. And unable to help it, tears well up in your eyes and finally the situation crushes you.

With a loud sob escaping your lips, you collapse in your chair, feeling completely helpless, hopeless and like a fool.

You don't understand how you couldn't take precautions, have a backup plan B in case Aemond's plan failed, apply to even the city's public university, but none of that crossed your mind at all.

How are you going to explain this to your father? That you didn't apply to other colleges because you trusted a guy's word to get into Citadel in exchange for making his ex-girlfriend jealous?

Even the situation, thinking about what you were doing all that time instead of applying to other colleges makes you frustrated and angry at yourself for being such a fool.

And yet, you still hold on.

The next morning, your spirits still low, you head to the office of the school's coordinator, Mrs. Turner, with this last spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to resolve this with her help.

Mrs. Turner greets you with a friendly smile, though her face reflects some concern when she sees the expression on your face clearly tired from lack of sleep and swollen from all the crying you've done.

“Miss Y/N, what's wrong? Is everything all right?” he asks you, inviting you to sit down.

You waste no time and explain the situation to her. You decide to omit certain details, especially everything to do with Aemond and his promise. Instead, you opt to say that, due to a family problem, you missed the date for applying to colleges.

“Well, I understand that some universities do a second round of application, but you're mostly private universities in the city.”

“Only private here in the city?” you ask nervously and with a slight illusion.

“Yes,” he nods at you, “Maybe you could make an application for a scholarship.”

You bite your lip, feeling the frustration begin to take hold of you again and the illusion disappears.

You know that, while a scholarship might help you cover some of the costs, it won't be enough. You will only be offered a partial scholarship, and even then, the costs of a private university would be unaffordable for you and your father.

With the scholarship you had applied for at Citadel, you would have had most of your expenses covered, as long as you maintained a good grade point average. But you were rejected.

“No, I-I… I can't afford private college,” you admit as you look at her in desperation, ”Are you sure there's nothing you can do at the public university? Maybe send in a special request or something?”

She looks at you with some pity and disappointment.

“I'm sorry Y/N, but I'm afraid that's not the way things work,” she tells you in a soft voice, “Unfortunately, at most universities, once the admissions deadlines have closed, there's nothing we can do.”

You're not even surprised because you were definitely expecting something like this. Nor do you feel anything, just…emptiness and bitterness.

Mrs. Turner maintains her compassionate look as she continues to speak, trying to soften the impact of the situation on you.

“Y/N, I know this may seem discouraging, but I want you to know that all is not lost. Losing a year before entering college is not the end of the world,” she says in a reassuring tone, ”You can use this time to get a job, gain experience, and prepare an even stronger application for the next cycle. There's no rush, and many people find that taking a year off allows them to better focus on what they really want.”

But you know what you really want.

You want to study law, have a professional career, graduate and work at something you really like where you earn enough money to help your dad, give him a better life. That's what you want.

But you ruined it all by agreeing to a dumb contract, by believing his words and by not backing yourself.

You know her words are meant to calm you down, to offer you a positive outlook in the midst of the storm of emotions flooding through you. But, at this moment, these words offer you no comfort.

All you can think about is how your plan, your future, has crumbled in front of you.

You nod slowly, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for his attempt to help you. But inside, you feel misunderstood. You know Mrs. Turner only wants to help you, but the despair and fear of the future you now face keep you from seeing the bright side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” you say with an effort to keep your voice steady, ”I appreciate your advice.”

She gives you a warm, though still concerned, smile as you rise from your chair.

“If you need to talk more, or if there's anything I can help you with, feel free to come see me, okay?”

You nod once more, thanking her for her kindness and time before leaving the office.

Once outside, the hustle and bustle of students filling the halls of the school envelop you and you quickly make your way to your locker.

You open the door with automatic movements, barely aware of what you are doing as your thoughts invade you. With trembling hands, you put away the books and notebooks you won't need for the next few classes.

As you go through the motions, the pain and frustration begin to build. And when you least expect it, tears begin to slide down your cheeks silently.

You try to control yourself, pursing your lips and wiping your cheeks, but your emotions are too intense to be repressed. When suddenly, laughter reaches your ears.

You watch out of the corner of your eye and see Alys and her friends walking almost in front of you with mocking voices and laughter, full of undisguised contempt.

You have an idea what specifically amuses them about you, you know they must have sent you that picture of Aemond and Floris, but you also feel their laughter as a cruel mockery of your already desperate situation.

Still you can't help but feel embarrassed and angrily wipe away your tears with a sharp gesture.

Rage runs through your whole body, for everything. And your tears, though stopped for the moment, still threaten to return. You hurry to put everything away and slam the door shut to finally walk away.

You walk quickly down the hallway, wanting to get away from all the people, when as you turn down a corridor, you come face to face with Aemond, Aegon and his friends.

The impact is almost physical, but both you and they stop abruptly to avoid the blow. And as soon as you realize who you have in front of you, you freeze for an instant.

Just when your day couldn't get any worse.

Aemond, with his silver hair and imposing figure, is the first to notice you. His expression instantly changes from surprise to concern as he sees the traces of tears on your face.

And although he doesn't say anything right away, his gaze is intense, full of worry and guilt.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, because both you and he have no idea what to do, what to say or how to react. But you, feeling the pressure of the stares, feel trapped and instantly have the urge to walk away.

But first, Aemond takes a step towards you, trying to close the distance between the two of you and your eyes meet his, charged with a mixture of desperation and hope.

“Y/N,” he calls your name.

And before he can say anything else, you don't let him and quickly move away.

Desperation drives you to dodge him, also the fact that you can't stand to be in his presence, which you do but Aemond reacts immediately and follows you.

He calls your name with an urgency that makes his voice echo down the hallway, leaving his brother and his friends behind.

“Y/N, please stop, he needed to talk to you,” he urges you.

His hand reaches out to yours in an attempt to stop you but you continue walking quickly.

Maybe it's the look you both have or it's the unusual attitude you're both having around each other that starts to get people's attention. But you don't care since all you want at that precise moment is to get away from him.

“Please, Y/N.”

And then his hand takes yours, stopping you and you turn to him, your face flushed with tears and anger inside you.

“Let go of me,” you tell him in warning in a cold, cutting voice, ”I won't tell you again.”

The scene definitely draws more attention and some students begin to murmur and watch you both very intently, but the whole whirlwind of emotions makes you lose sight of the awkwardness of the situation.

You really don't want to deal with Aemond right now. In fact you don't even want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And Aemond seeing that, your attitude and coldness, the fact that you can't even stand to see him and the fact that you are being terribly honest, hurts him, really hurts him with a sharp pain in his chest, but he insists.

“Please, just for a few minutes. I need to explain—

Completely losing patience, showing the intensity of your pain and frustration, you release yourself from his grip in a sudden movement that draws more attention from the students and the situation becomes an unwanted show.

“Leave me alone,” you warn him through your teeth before turning and walking away with quick steps.

And thankfully he doesn't try to stop you again.

Everyone is looking at you and everyone is looking at Aemond as well, but you quickly find refuge away from all the stares, taking no notice.

However, you should have expected that little show to go around like plague throughout the school accompanied with the new rumor that Aemond Targaryen and his previously invisible girlfriend have broken up.

And honestly… you didn't even care.

To this point, technically he and you have ended whatever the two of you had, so you don't care to either affirm or deny it, you just don't make a big deal out of it and let people believe what they want.

Besides, how could you care when there are certainly more important things like thinking about your now ruined future?

News you have the confidence to share with Alysanne after all the drama involving you and Aemond, since you two are all anyone talks about in the entire school.

“That fucking idiot,” Alysanne mutters in disbelief, "Just when I thought what he did with Floris was so low but this… I mean, are you kidding me?" she stares at Cregan, incredulous, ”This is so much worse.”

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your forehead as you close your eyes and simply let your body try to relax. It's uncomfortable because of the hard metal beneath you as you lie on the bleachers but you still try.

“But he said he would try to fix it, didn't he?” asks Cregan in a cautious tone.

“And you believe him?” reproaches Alysanne incredulously, "I wouldn't and Y/N shouldn't either," she observes you, ”He had all this time to do something about it, even to be honest with you and tell you ahead of time that he wasn't going to succeed in helping you. Then you would have had a chance to apply to other colleges but no, he preferred to stay silent and enjoy the acting and all that it provoked in his stupid ex-girlfriends.”

And put like that… everything that happened sounds so much worse.

But you know she's right.

While the whole school is whispering about your ‘breakup’ with him, you can't help but feel that there are much more important things at stake, things that Aemond never understood or tried to understand.

And Alysanne seeing your expression and you basically not reacting because you're thinking about the future and how incredibly fucked up you must feel, lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you.

“I know it's a stupid question but are you okay?” she asks you in a warm and concerned tone.

You let out a sigh and take a moment before answering, not watching them and not taking your hand off your forehead.

“I don't know what to do,” you say in a low, emotionless tone.

Alysanne grimaces and looks at Cregan who also returns the same expression; they don't know what to do to make you feel better and relieve that huge weight you're carrying.

College is a big deal, both of them would also feel the same way if they were in your place, that's a fact. But by the same token they are not in your situation, they don't know what to do to cheer you up because, what could they possibly do to even help you? Nothing.

“I'm just thinking about how I'm going to tell my dad.”

You confess finally, withdrawing your hand from your forehead and fixing your eyes on the gray sky above you.

“I'll have to lie to him, tell him I applied but all the colleges rejected me,” you say regretfully, “Now I'm just left to look for a job and do that until I can apply next year.”

Alysanne and Cregan exchange a look.

“It's not a bad plan,” she tells you, trying to cheer you up, “In fact, a lot of people of our age don't go to college after graduation and do exactly that, get a job and apply until the next year or until they're sure of what they want to study.”

“Yeah,” Cregan agrees, "Besides, my family has several businesses in town, I could help you get a job at one of them.”

You can't help but place a small smile on your lips, seeing the willingness of both of them in wanting to support you, however, they can see the sadness all over your face and the discouragement you feel.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it,” you say genuinely, "And I know it's not a bad plan but…" you sigh, feeling the frustration and sadness swirl in your chest, ”I know my dad, and I know that, when I tell him that I wasn't accepted, he'll be supportive… but I also know that he'll be very disappointed.”

That's what weighs on you the most, far more than anything else, going over the whole Aemond thing and also over you, your dad.

He has sacrificed so much for you, working long hours at a job that doesn't give him what he truly deserves. He earns enough to support you and the house, he has always made sure you both have what you need; food on the table, clothes and basic comforts.

But he never buys anything for himself and his own dreams have always taken a back seat. All so he can give you a chance to do something else, have a better life and now…you feel like you've failed him.

Cregan and Alysanne watch you silently, their faces reflecting the gravity of your words. They know there is nothing they can say that will truly ease your pain, but you know they are both here, offering you their support.

“Well, I don't know your dad but still, he's your dad and he loves you,” Alysanne tells you in a warm tone, ”He knows you better than anyone and I'm sure all he'll want is for you to be okay.”

“And I'm sure he's seen how you've tried your best and you can't take the blame for something that was out of your hands.”

You understand what they both mean and you also ponder your dad's attitude in your mind briefly, but still, you can't help but place a small bitter smile.

“Actually it was my fault because it was my decision to trust Aemond, instead of making sure I had other options to prevent exactly this,” you say without emotion, “And I also feel that… not only it hurts me to have to tell my dad, but also to feel this disappointment,” you explain, “I really believed that I would go to Citadel and that my life was going to follow that path I had planned for a long time. But now… I feel like that dream has been taken away from me again.”

Alysanne looks at you sadly, understanding the weight of your words and she along with Cregan, no longer have any idea what to say to you. And you notice this, so you watch both of them trying to keep a genuine smile on your lips.

“You know? I really appreciate you both being here for me… I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you guys to talk to,” you tell them sincerely, ”But I think it needed some time alone.”

Alysanne looks at you uncertainly.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind, I can skip the next class to stay with you.”

“No, no, don't worry,” you hasten to say.

“I can stay too,” Cregan adds, shrugging.

“No guys, I don't want you to miss class for me, really,” you look at them sincerely, "I'll be fine, I just…" you let out a sigh, ”I need time alone.”

They both exchange a look and Cregan is the one who stands up first, stretching his arms out before looking at you with a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Fine but if you need anything, tell us,” he tells you with a soft voice and a warm gaze.

You nod in his direction.

“Yes, thank you,” you reply as you return a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Alysanne lingers a little longer, watching you with the same intensity as always, as if she wants to make sure you really will be okay before she leaves.

“I'll keep an eye out on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you tell her, feeling that simple gesture of support fill you with a strange mixture of relief and sadness.

She nods, smiling a little before walking away along with Cregan, leaving you alone on the bleachers.

And you stand there, thinking about everything and yet nothing, where you allow yourself to let out a long, heavy sigh. You look up at the sky, allowing thoughts to flow unrestricted.

The faint sounds around you envelop you, such as the soccer team boys training on the field and the entire cheerleading squad, as well as the faint, comforting sound of the leaves moving from the big trees along with the birds singing.

And even though you don't want to feel bad, the pain, the disappointment and the uncertainty about what will come next, it all hits you again in an unavoidable way.

And it all blends together in an emotional whirlwind that leaves you exhausted.

Time seems to stand still as you stand there, lost in thought. And you barely notice when someone approaches, as the sound of approaching footsteps barely registers in your consciousness.

And because you are absorbed in your thoughts, you only come out of your trance the moment a soft voice right next to you breaks the silence in your space.

“Hi Y/N.”

You raise your head almost immediately, definitely not expecting that and suddenly you see Floris standing next to you, watching you with a mixture of insecurity and regret.

You frown and look at her confused, not bothering to hide it, truly not understanding what she's doing here, talking to you.

And receiving no response from you, she looks down uncomfortably for a moment, fiddling with her hands as if searching for the right words before speaking.

And this is the first time you see her like this. You don't spend your time watching and analyzing her either but normally she always comes across as confident and sure of her whole persona, but now… you've never seen her so nervous.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now…” she admits with her voice barely a whisper, sitting down next to you on the bleacher, though she keeps an appropriate distance, ”But I really want to talk to you.”

'Talk?'

You repeat in your mind, still watching her without understanding and unable to help but feel a pang of bitterness at the memory of all that has happened.

The truth is you don't want to talk, you already feel frustrated and tired enough without now having to deal with this and especially with her.

But for some strange reason, you don't say anything, you just watch her, waiting, keeping calm, waiting for her to continue. She seems to hesitate for a moment, but then takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the horizon.

“I-I… after what happened in Dragonstone…” she begins to speak cautiously, ”Aemond decided to cut off all communication with me.”

That nonconformity and that little ache in your chest comes up as you hear her name and you too look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“He told me that what happened between us was a mistake and that you never deserved that,” she continues in a soft tone, ”I don't know if that gives you any kind of comfort, but I thought you should know.”

'Comfort?'

You don't know whether to laugh or cry but it's clear that none of this brings you comfort.

And she seems to be struggling with her own emotions, as you see out of the corner of your eye how her hands clench in her lap as if she's trying to control the trembling in them.

“And I'm not telling you this to justify myself, I know what happened at that party was a mistake,” she says emphatically, ”I shouldn't have gotten involved, let alone knowing that you were his girlfriend. That was…” she pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh, ”That was a big mistake on my part. I should have walked away from him the moment I met you, given you your place and respected you, but… I didn't.”

Her words fall heavy in the air and although part of you wants to lash out at her, another part of you feels so drained that you can't even find the energy to argue. Besides it's not just her… it's also Aemond.

“I was the one who was all the time looking for his attention at that party, you know? I was the one who had the intention of kissing him all that time, “she confesses, visibly embarrassed, ”I-I… I don't know, I felt so jealous when I came back and saw him with you. I-I guess I… still had feelings for him.”

You let out a long breath and finally speak bitterly.

“If he was the one who sent you to tell me all this to justify what he did and expect me to forgive him, it's not going to work Floris,” you warn her.

She shakes her head instantly, her eyes full of urgency.

“No, no,” she tells you immediately, ”He didn't send me to tell you anything, he doesn't even talk to me and barely notices me when we're in the same place. There's nothing really between us anymore Y/N,” she insists, ”It all ended when I left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say or what to really think, also not having the slightest idea what to do.

Even if all of this were true, everything she's telling you, you don't care anymore. All of this just comes with the part where Aemond didn't deliver what he promised you. All of this is just more accompanying pain, but what does it really matter?

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” she murmurs in your direction after you say nothing, “I know my words won't change anything and I'm not expecting you to forgive me… but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry.”

You remain silent, jaw clenched and gaze lowered, with the silence still heavy, dense.

Her words echo in your mind, mingling with everything else you've been carrying. But what are you supposed to feel? Relief? More pain? Or both? You don't know.

And resigned to the fact that she won't find some kind of reaction from you nor will you say anything to her, she lets out a last sigh, accepting your indifference without a problem.

“And I also wanted to tell you that…I know that Alys and her friends were the ones who sent you that picture,” she confesses to you and you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, ”And you don't have to worry about them spreading it all over school. I made sure that doesn't happen.”

The lump in your throat tightens. Though his words seek to offer you some sort of comfort, they do not soothe the wound that has already been inflicted. It doesn't change what happened, nor does it erase the humiliation you felt.

But even so, there is something in her tone, in the sincerity with which she speaks to you, that disarms you a little, if only for an instant.

Finally she stands up, feeling that there is nothing more to say. She throws you one last look, full of regret, before turning and starting to walk away.

And you don't stop her, as you have nothing to say, when suddenly, she stops after only a few steps and this catches your attention, so you look at her in confusion.

Floris, still with her back to you, seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether or not to say what has been on her mind. When finally, he turns to you again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you didn't expect.

“He really loves you, you know? Aemond.”

For the first time in the entire conversation you hold her gaze.

The sincerity in her eyes strikes you, but it's hard to believe those words after everything that's happened.

“When I came back from the exchange, something changed in him towards me. I don't know, he didn't see me the same way anymore,” she explains, "At first I didn't understand why, but when I met you, I knew," she confesses.

She pauses and seems to hesitate, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“The kiss…that kiss meant nothing to him, I know,” she finally confesses. “I saw him at Dragonstone, I saw how he looked at you… completely in love with you.”

You press your lips together and stare at a specific point, remembering those moments.

“And I also saw you completely in love with him too,” she admits in a soft voice, “I saw how you looked at him, with the same intensity with which he looked at you. And honestly… the two of you looked very happy together.”

This makes you feel exposed in a way you didn't expect, stirring a little in your seat, not knowing how to react.

The images of you and Aemond at Dragonstone, the times you spent together on the yacht, the hot tub, on the beach, in the castle and at the aquarium, when everything was fine and neither of you were faking it and it looked like everything was going to be just fine, all flashes through your mind.

“I saw all that, Y/N,” Floris continues, looking down in shame. “And that's why I accepted his decision to walk away from me. Because even though I didn't want to accept it at the time, I knew that what he felt for you was real. And what you felt for him was too.”

For a moment, you stare at her, not knowing how to respond or what to do, since you didn't expect to hear this either.

And you honestly can't deny the honesty in her words and in that it's probably true what she's saying, but you also can't ignore the pain that still burns inside you.

And so you simply nod slightly, as if you are accepting her confession even though you don't know what to do with it.

Floris looks at you one last time before turning completely around and continuing on her way, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the emotions you've been trying to contain.

You feel a surge of sadness mixed with a strange calm, as if there is nothing left to give. Everything that has happened between you, Aemond and Floris is still a complicated knot to untangle.

Now the silence that follows is heavy, but somehow, it also seems liberating.

Aemond POV.

With a folder in hand containing all the documents he needs and a determination all over his mind and posture, he barely observes all the people around him as he walks quickly through the hallways of the building, heading towards a specific office.

When he reaches the corresponding hallway, he slows his pace, cautiously observing his surroundings, making sure his grandsire is not nearby.

After so long keeping him waiting in the hope that he would do him the favor despite having already told him it would not be possible, he must have known that he will never really help him after all the favors he has done for him.

And that is precisely why Aemond has resorted to such measures.

But if his grandsire sees him here, he will immediately know what he wants to do and will not hesitate to kick him out of the building. That's why he has to be quick as the guards have seen him come in and so have all the people who work here.

And it's hard to go unnoticed when you have silver hair, which implies either that you work here or that you are the son, brother or nephew of the people who run the company.

So he quickly makes his way to the office, where he doesn't even knock on the door before entering, just walks in quickly to avoid being seen.

“Aemond?”

He looks at his sister and lets out a long breath watching her wearily, to walk over and take a seat in front of her.

“I'm sorry, my grandsire can't know I'm here or he'll kick me out,” he explains.

“Why? What happened?” she asks genuinely concerned, stopping what she was doing on her computer.

“Nothing, it's just…” he pauses as she brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration, ”I need you to do me a favor, Nyra. A big one.”

This gets her full attention and she nods slowly in his direction.

“What do you need?” she says to him with all disposition, watching him intently.

Your face, your words, all the moments that happened, whether good or bad, but most of all your hurt and broken face, the disappointment and how terribly sad you must have felt.

All of that is Aemond's drive to finally make things right and the things he should have done in the first place.

But it is not only that, it is also the fact that you no longer want to have anything to do with him, that you no longer want to be in the same place with him, that you can't stand his presence and that you don't answer any of his messages or calls, wanting to stop having any kind of contact with him.

All of that lets him know exactly how you felt about Floris and also about the fact that he didn't keep his promise.

And now he is willing to do anything, absolutely anything to be able to keep what he promised you. It doesn't matter if you still don't want to have anything to do with him, all he wants is for you to go to the college of your dreams.

But Rhaenyra's face after explaining and asking him for the favor, is exactly what he expected but he will still keep trying.

“You know I can't do something like that, Aemond.”

“You just don't have to say anything to him Rhae, please.”

She shakes her head.

“That's only worse. You know how hard it was for me to get him to agree to let me work here since dad died and I still have to put up with his bad treatment—

“Oh please, we all know it's only a matter of time before you and Daemon also get to run this company in addition to Driftmark and Harrenhal,” he interrupts her seriously, “You'll take my grandsire's job and send him to run only the Oldtown company.”

Rhaenyra remains serious for a moment, pursing her lips.

“It's the right thing to do and you know it. My father left this to me, to us,” she clarifies truthfully, ”And your grandfather took advantage to take it all and leave almost nothing to me.”

He lets out a long breath, bringing a hand to his chin.

“When you've finished your degree, you'll run Oldtown and if you want, we can spread out more locations,” she tells him in a soft tone, “Helaena can also run Highgarden and Aegon and Daeron can also help us if that's what they really want. That's what father wanted and I never once intended to take that away from you, your legacy, as your grandsire told you I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he tells her in a soft, sincere tone, understanding what she means.

The fight over the inheritance was always in the family ever since their father became ill. He never showed them love or even that he cared even a little for them, but at least he intended to leave them a large part of his legacy.

Neither he nor his siblings fought with Rhaenyra and Daemon for it, it was only their grandsire, who from the time they were all children put hatred towards them to her.

But eventually, both he and his siblings realized that Rhaenyra had other intentions and everything grandsire said was a lie. Rhaenyra didn't want to steal their legacy, she never did.

And now… they have all developed a strange but pleasant relationship with her. He more than anything has developed a respect, even an affection, for his older sister, because she wasn't the villain they had always been led to believe.

“Our arrangement with Citadel University was made precisely from the company in Oldtown, a company he will run until you have graduated,” she continues, “And if he already refused once to help you with that and finds out that I did, this strange peace I have managed to keep will be over.”

And the worst part is that she's right.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of those words.

If his grandsire finds out that she helped him behind his back, all the progress they've made to maintain family stability will shatter, destroying any chance of avoiding another conflict. And all because of a girl only he knows.

If it were a nephew, cousin or someone closer to the family nucleus, everything would be different. Nepotism is a common currency among wealthy and powerful families, like his, but in your case, you are a complete stranger.

That is precisely the reason why his grandsire refused to offer help him.

And now, Aemond is caught between the desire to repair the damage he caused in you and the fear that his insistence will cause an even greater rift in the family.

“Then I'll do it,” he says with conviction, sure of his words and Rhae looks at him surprised and confused, “Just tell me how I can get her into college. You don't have to get involved, I'll take it all on myself. I'll say I asked you for help and you refused. If anything goes wrong, it will be my responsibility.”

Rhaenyra lets out a long, deep sigh.

“Aemond—

She begins softly, but he interrupts her before she can say more.

“She deserves this,” he says, his voice lower but laden with sincerity. “It wasn't her fault. She did a favor for me on the condition that I would do this one for her. Besides, I've done a lot of things for my grandfather and the company, especially this company, so please Rhae, I really want to do this.”

Rhaenyra watches him for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in his.

The intensity in Aemond's gaze does not waver, for he is willing to take the consequences, to stand up to even his grandsire, if it means giving you a chance to repair the damage he himself caused.

“Even if I have to give up my own place to give it to her, I don't care, I'll do it.”

Rhaenyra blinks slowly, her mind struggling between logic and the desire to help him. Aemond rarely shows regret, and seeing him so willing to sacrifice himself for someone surprises her and reaches her deeply.

And finally, after what seems like an eternity, she sighs.

“What you're asking is a huge risk,” she admits, looking at him with a mixture of seriousness and empathy.

He holds his breath, his body rigid, as she seems to debate internally and he waits for a decision. And then, she turns to her computer, beginning to type, letting out a long breath.

“But don't be silly, I want you to study at Citadel too.”

The relief Aemond feels is almost palpable. A mixture of gratitude and hope takes hold of him, and his shoulders seem to relax for the first time since he entered the office.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Truly.”

“Just let me make a phone call and I also need her docu—

She doesn't finish saying the word as he, with a quickness that reflects his urgency, drops the folder with all the necessary papers in front of her on her desk.

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, looking at the folder with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Sure,” she murmurs and opens the folder, letting out a small laugh, beginning to flip through the documents, making sure everything is in order "Well, this folder is quite complete and the grades are excellent,” she says in acknowledgement, "That's good because it will help us speed up the process."

Aemond allows himself to let out a sigh of relief, watching as Rhaenyra steps in to help him with this favor. And as she begins to make calls and coordinate the necessary details, he remains attentive throughout, beginning to feel more relieved than ever.

He knows this won't exactly make you forgive him, but at the very least, he's fixing the damage he's done to you so he can give you the opportunity you deserve.

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@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @saturnssrings @queen-of-elves

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #modern hotd #modern au #modern aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen angst

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verstappen-cult · 5 months

Text

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.

PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.

SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.

GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple.

He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him.

Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing.

“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy.

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration.

Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger.

He does not wear rings.

“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears.

“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up.

“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?”

There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.

And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it.

“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?

They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads.

“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat.

“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles.

“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”

Max groans, falling back onto the bed.

“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”

“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night.

They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen.

By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night.

They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.

However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on.

“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”

“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”

“What do you need to talk to him about?”

“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry.

“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation.

“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”

And then, they say at the same time:

“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”

“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”

Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.

“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.

Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening.

“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”

“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion.

“Oh, but I know.”

They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces.

You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen.

“You got married.”

There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces.

You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing.

You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone.

“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”

Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away.

“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.

“Say hi to Y/N!”

“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk.

“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”

The video ends with all of them laughing.

There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks.

“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”

“What!?” Max looks mortified.

“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”

“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”

“No we’re not!”

Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.”

Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!”

You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh.

“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”

Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night.

“You’re not… mad?”

“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.”

“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips.

“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”

Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!”

“You should’ve tried harder!”

“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!”

“Max!” Charles says, offended.

“I won’t do that.”

You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

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nkjemisin · 29 days

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Hello NK Jemisin! I'm a huge fan of yours, and I wanted to thank you for writing all of the books you've written, and doing all that you do. You're really awesome and you are doing important work! :) I had a long question, if you have time to answer! What's your commentary on creating fantasy cultures, using real ones as inspiration? You've done this before in your stories, and I wanted to know if you had any guidance on doing it well. I'm writing my first novel right now (fantasy!) and am dealing with a surprising amount of guilt regarding using real cultures as a basis for my fake ones. On one hand, I want to create a really unique fantasy world, not the bog-standard European stuff. It's not only more interesting to me, but I also admittedly want to use my story to help introduce people to concepts that might be helpful in the real world, help readers understand what these real people go through and perhaps inspire change. On the OTHER hand, I don't know if it's 'my place' to do so (I'm Black btw, but I'm not just writing about Black-coded fantasy characters). And I'm worried about representing people in a harmful way, even if it's by accident. I'm even hung up about names! Should I use names from real languages related to the cultures I'm inspired by, or should I just make them up to emphasize that, while yes these people are clearly inspired by real cultures, they are ultimately *their own* thing. I'm really conflicted on this and am hoping you can offer some feedback and/or commentary. Sorry for the long ask. Either way, have a great day and I look forward to whatever work you do next!

If I can rephrase what you're saying here, it sounds like you're concerned about cultural appropriation -- specifically, which cultures you get to "borrow from" and "remix," how much remixing you can do before you've done damage, how to depict people from cultural backgrounds other than your own, etc.

If that's what you're asking, then there are whole schools of thought on how to "appropriate appropriately." A lot of thinking on this has evolved in the past few years, for good and for ill; Own Voices, for example. (The short version: the Own Voices hashtag movement started as a grassroots attempt to get marginalized voices telling the stories of their own cultures, because there's been a nasty trend of only white/Western/Anglophone/etc. authors publishing books about those cultures. The problem? Some publishers and readers started acting as if marginalized writers weren't allowed to do anything but stories in their own cultures -- a restriction, instead of an inclusion/correction. Worse, publishers, etc started using it as a marketing shorthand, in ways that were just... not good. They made it weird, basically.) But I'm still fond of the approach that's in Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's centered on ethnicity/race, but a lot of its approach can be extrapolated to culture. There's too much good stuff in this book to summarize it easily, but you should read it instead of a summary anyway -- it's short.

I don't see the point of guilt, when it comes to something like this. Guilt is what you feel when you've done something wrong, and admiring another culture enough to want to tell a story featuring it isn't wrong. However, there are things you need to do -- research, conversations, considerations of power dynamics -- to reduce the harm you might end up doing by telling that story as an outsider. And note that no matter what you do, though, you might still end up doing harm. (Even people writing about their own culture can end up doing that.) If you fuck up, apologize, figure out what went wrong, and try to do better next time. That's really all you can do.

And then write whatever the hell you want. There's a persistent pressure on Black writers to only cover certain subjects, certain settings; nah. We get to have range, too. You've just got to put in the work to do it well.

Good luck.

#answered asks

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chrissv4mp · 6 months

Text

get him back! 💘

warnings: vulgar language, smut (p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, cunnilingus), jealous!chris, use of 'y/n', etc.

summary: in which chris was just a summer fling that you couldn't get enough of, and neither could he.

pairing: fem!reader × christopher sturniolo

a/n: literally jumped at the fact that i got to participate in @annamcdonalds67 's writing challenge! first ever comp i've been in🫶🏼 also there's a huge timeskip in this, sooo...

_____________

SUMMER 2023 , day 30

"chris, you can't burp in public places. seriously." you sighed, continuing to walk alongside the boy in the mall.

"why not? it's not hurting anyone," he grumbled, swaying the bag in his freehand back and forth.

"because that's not polite, chris." you swore you were talking to a child sometimes.

chris rolled his eyes, who were you to tell him it wasn't polite?

"fuck, you argue with me about everything." you muttered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

chris hadn't heard, and even if he had, he wouldn't answer. his full attention was on some girl talking to her friends. his wandering eyes had always failed him.

her hair was dark, long, and her lips were so full he wished he could--

"chris," your voice pulled him out of his trance, his head quickly snapping toward you.

"yeah?" he smiled softly.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom, then we can leave." chris nodded, his mind already going back to the girl from earlier.

as soon as you disappeared behind the doors, chris was making his way to the brunette and her friends.

"hey," chris smiled, eyes trained on the brunette.

"hi?" she smiled awkwardly, nudging her friends and making them leave.

"sorry, didn't wanna make your friends leave just now, i just saw you from across the store and... you're really pretty." he said, his smile fading to a smirk.

the girl laughed, "thank you, but seriously? not even gonna ask my name?"

"shit, sorry! what was your name?" he chuckled, eyes going down to her lips.

"chloe," she replied, crossing her arms over each other.

chris nodded, "pretty name for a pretty girl. i'm chris, nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you, as well. uh, sorry, weird question," chris hummed, urging her to continue.

"how tall are you?" chloe smiled sweetly, eyeing chris up and down.

"six-foot-two," chris lied, biting the inside of his cheek.

your hand on his shoulder was what caught his attention, "nice try, chris."

he turned around, his cheeks flushing of embarrassment as he stared down at you, "hey, y/n."

ignoring him, you looked over at chloe, giving her an awkward smile before pushing past chris.

"i'm sorry about him. and i assure you that he's not six-foot-two." you sighed, flashing her another quick smile before dragging chris out of the mall.

chris stayed silent as you scolded him in the car, was he serious?

"you are so embarrassing chris, and, god, you need to get yourself in check. flirting with another girl while dating me? seriously?" you scoffed, driving out of the parking lot.

you should've left him a long time ago, honestly, but he was so much fun and he had such weird friends.

and plus, he would take out you and your friends to parties every other night. they were always a good time, it felt as if they never ended.

"i'm sorry, ma," he muttered, placing his hand on your thigh and gently squeezing it.

"i can make it up to you tonight. me, nate, and a couple other friends are going out to a club," chris said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

you stayed silent. even if the invitation did sound nice, you were still pissed at chris.

"c'mon, don't be like that, ma. i know you want to." he muttered, his thumb running over your thigh softly.

fuck it, it was just one night without talking about your feelings. plus, you needed something fun to do, "fine."

chris smiled brightly, "y'know i learned some new dance moves."

rolling your eyes playfully, you nudged the boy, "shut up, chris."

SUMMER 2023 , day 42

"i mean, maybe if you stopped being such a bitch all the time more people would approach you?"

that's what chris had said just a few hours ago when you were at the party, dancing together.

now chris was trying to get you to talk to him as you sat at the edge of his bed, going through your instagram feed.

"i didn't mean it, baby, you know i didn't. please just talk to me, c'mon," he whined, his hand rubbing your shoulder gently.

you just sighed, tucking your phone in your pocket before looking away from him, "you can't just say shit like that, chris."

he nodded as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, "i know, i just wasn't thinking, i'm sorry."

that's what he always said, and you always believed him. always.

"hey, i'll be right back, okay?" he said softly, kissing your cheek.

you nodded, watching as chris left his room and shut the door, leaving you alone.

chris was back in a matter of 15 minutes, barging into his room and making you jump from the sudden noise.

you were sat against the headboard, scrolling through tiktok as chris climbed onto the bed next to you.

"ma," he smiled, showering your entire face in kisses as he moved your phone to the side.

you laughed at his clinginess, feeling his hands go up to cup your face softly, "hi, baby."

"i have a surprise." he said, the smile on his face growing as he grabbed his phone.

he held the phone in front of your face, and on the screen were 2 tickets to paris, france, the date on the ticket showing that the plane was leaving in just 4 days.

your mouth fell agape as you turned your head to look at chris, before he could even say anything, you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

after a few minutes of silence in his embrace, you finally spoke, "i love you, chris."

the boy smiled, kissing your neck affectionately, "love you, too, y/n."

SPRING BREAK 2024 , night 3

your eyes were glued to your phone, attention on chris's new instagram story.

it was a picture of him, his tongue stuck out as the words "Happy Easter !" were next to him.

your lips curled into a small smile, but then it faded as the memory of your breakup crashed into your mind.

maybe he was an asshole at sometimes, but you really missed him. he was so sweet and such a gentleman at times.

every moment with him was never boring, he was funny, kind, hot, everything a girl would want in a guy.

you shut off your phone as another memory came into your mind, when chris had hit on your friend right in front of you.

and the worst part wasn't even that it was right in front of you; the worst part was that he'd done it multiple times.

"fucking asshole." you muttered, eyes going to the TV that was currently playing Waves.

your attention couldn't stay on the movie, though. it wasn't long until your eyes wandered below the TV to the entertainment center.

there was a photo of you and chris in paris, on the eiffel tower.

he was so sweet for taking you on that trip, but then again, he was a dick for the reason he bought the tickets.

god, you couldn't make up your mind.

do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it's up and down.

you couldn't even decide anymore. all you knew was that you wanted to get him back.

you wanted to make him jealous, like he always made you. and, fuck, you wanted to make him feel bad. really bad.

he would always blame you for shit you couldn't control.

and then at other times you wanted to get him back.

you wanted him again, missed him, even.

you felt sad every time you saw him having fun with other girls, felt like you were never good enough for him.

you just wanted him to reassure you that you were better than all those girls, that you were his girl.

sometimes you even found yourself on your bedroom floor, texting him little notes about how much you missed the way kisses and the way he grabbed your--

the way he made you laugh.

you'd pour your heart our every time, and the "little notes" would always end up as huge paragraphs.

you still remember the time you had almost hit send. during your relationship another girl had texted you that chris was cheating on you with her.

and of course, it had to have been one of your ex-friends.

she had explained that she went through his phone and saw your text messages with chris. he said you were the only girl.

but that just wasn't the truth. another one of his lies.

another memory was when you had actually sent him a paragraph. a paragraph about how bad he had hurt you.

chris, never being one to admit to something like that, said you were trippin'.

you remember how angry you were, how much you had fucking hated his guts. but then you remembered what you had told your friends that same day.

"maybe i could fix him."

SPRING BREAK , day 7

matt was hosting a party at him and his brothers' shared house, and he had invited you.

and, of course, you accepted the invitation. he was just chris's brother, and you would just avoid the younger triplet if he tried to come to you.

"y/n, oh my god, we missed you!" nick greeted, pulling you into a hug as you stepped into the house.

"i missed you, too, nick." you smiled, hugging him back before going off to find some other friends.

why couldn't chris be like his brothers? they were so sweet.

maybe you should've went for matt last summer.

a few hours into the party and a guy was all over you, grabbing at your waist and pulling you against his front.

you caught sight of chris as you danced against the guy. he was staring daggers at the man, his grip on his pepsi can tight enough to break it into pieces.

you smirked at the thought of making him jealous. but, fuck, you wanted to make him more than jealous.

maybe after the party you would key his car. that'd get him going.

or maybe you'd make him lunch tomorrow, make him happy.

you hadn't even met his mom during your relationship. what if you got in touch with her just to tell her her son sucks?

whatever, it didn't matter right now. all that mattered was that chris was jealous and was ready to attack the guy.

"let's go upstairs, yeah?" the guy whispered into your ear, hand going up to squeeze your boob.

just as he did, chris was out of his seat, pushing way past other people and stopping just in front of you.

you hadn't even had time to process the whole interaction between chris and the unknown guy before chris was dragging you down the hall to his room.

"chris, what the fuck are you--" your sentence was cut short as he pushed you against his locked door, his lips crashing onto yours hungrily.

your eyes widened in shock, but as soon as chris's hand rested on your waist, you relaxed, kissing him back just as rough.

his grip on your waist was tight, sure to leave marks in the shape of his hands.

good, that would remind any other guy who touched you that you belonged to chris. only chris.

his lips left your, trailing kisses down your jawline to your neck, sucking harshly on your tender skin just before his tongue lay flat on the same spot to soothe the ache.

"fuck." you whined, hands tangling in chris's hair.

chris didn't stay at your neck for long, pulling away entirely from your body to pull your shirt over you head and undo your bra.

his lips were quick to find your nipple, swirling around the bud slowly as his hand played with your other boob.

his eyes never left yours as he left marks on your chest, making sure they wouldn't fade in just a matter of hours.

"stupid fucking guy thinks he can touch on you like that," chris muttered as he grabbed your waist tightly again, roughly leading you to sit on his bed.

he got on his knees in front of you before pulling at the hem of your jeans.

you quickly got the hint and slipped them off, kicking them off your ankles before chris threw them somewhere around the floor.

"still such a good girl for me, yeah?" he said, amusement in his tone as he grabbed your thighs and pulled them open.

you nodded eagerly, "i'm your good girl, chris."

chris smiled, before hooking his finger in your panties and pulling them off of you roughly.

you swore you heard him rip the fabric, but that didn't matter, all that mattered right now was the ache between your thighs.

"still such a pretty girl." chris mused before running his tongue through your folds.

you gasped at the warmth of his tongue, attempting to squeeze your legs shut.

chris kept them open, his grip on your thighs tightening as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, eliciting a loud moan out of you.

"chris, fuck." you moaned, hands going back into the boys hair and tuggling lightly.

his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as he slipped his index finger into your wetness.

your grip in his hair tightened as your moans got louder, whining his name as his finger hit that sweet spot deep inside of you.

"oh my god, chris.." you groaned, eyes rolling back as they fluttered shut.

he added a second finger to your entrance, finding it harder to thrust both fingers into you.

"so tight." he groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice making you let out a throaty moan.

"chris, chris, fuck, i'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a moan as chris curled his fingers.

you came on his tongue and fingers, your chest heaving as you let go of his hair.

chris lapped at your wetness, cum coating his chin as he stood up in front of you.

he wasted no time in taking his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and kicking his jeans off his ankles, quickly pulling his boxers down before throwing them on the floor.

"you make me crazy, y'know that, ma?" he growled lowly, pushing you softly to lay on your back.

chris didn't even let you reply before he aligned his cock with your entrance and thrusted himself inside of you.

hiding his face in your neck, he began to roll his hips, groaning as he felt your walls clench around him tightly.

"fuck." he whined at the feeling of your nails digging into his back, sure to draw blood.

it wasn't long until you had adjusted to his size and chris had began to thrust into you faster, his tip hitting your cervix just right every time.

your moans echoed off the walls, and suddenly you were glad that the music outside of the door was loud.

the bed creaked as the headboard hit the wall, evidence of how hard chris was rocking against your body.

"chris, fuck, you're so big." you whimpered, gasping as you felt his hand on your lower belly.

he pushed down slightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt a small bulge.

it didn't take long for the both of you to reach the edge, gasps and moans being the only thing heard in the room.

chris came seconds before you, filling you up just before you came on his cock, making him groan loudly.

"fuck, ma." he sighed, giving you a few seconds before he pulled out of you and plopped by your side on the bed.

you rolled on your side to face him, smiling slightly at the knowledge that he had already been staring at you.

he smiled back at you, his eyes struggling to stay open.

he laughed, "still making you feel bad?"

even if he was tired, he would never pass up the chance to make a snarky comment.

"shut up, you idiot." you laughed, punching him playfully.

. . .

tags: @mattsneezing @55sturn @niicksposts @mayhem-72 @chrissturnswife @sturn-wrld @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @lanixsturniolo @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @strniohoeee @strnilolo @heartsforchrisandmatt @sturn3g1rl @mstxrniolo @iluvmattyb @ryli3sworld @stingerayyy2

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atlabeth · 6 months

Text

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before.

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it.

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion.

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him.

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet.

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station.

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory.

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling.

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert.

“Always.”

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.”

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own.

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat.

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.”

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they?

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone.

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime.

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought.

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you.

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table.

The Poseidon cabin is empty again.

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically.

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate.

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year.

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back.

You should be here. You’re not.

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?)

There are some things a person just can’t get over.

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches.

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand.

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things.

He isn’t ever going to be the same again.

You should still be alive.

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick.

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured.

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?”

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.”

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.”

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?”

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.”

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?”

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything.

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?”

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?”

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.”

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.”

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.”

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.”

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?”

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.”

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.”

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.”

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.”

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.”

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.”

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.”

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?”

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.”

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.”

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.”

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile.

You were the luckiest girl in the world.

“Thank you,” you said.

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said.

“For what?”

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured.

The second year isn’t any easier.

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief.

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass.

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care.

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better.

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes.

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you.

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it.

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not.

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke.

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again.

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.)

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul.

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this.

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job.

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here.

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you. He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid.

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on.

And then Kronos appears in his dreams.

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death.

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke.

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston.

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one.

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours.

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods.

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures.

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it.

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it.

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.

You always told each other about your nightmares.

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t.

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate.

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about.

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one.

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking.

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got.

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest.

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change.

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact.

Almost.

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done.

…Almost.

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers.

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal.

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head.

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan.

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

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emisloves · 12 days

Text

ONLY ONE FOR YOU ✦ K.SN

PAIRING. fox hybrid!sunoo x bunny hybrid!reader

GENRE. MDNI, explicit content (smut), hybrid x hybrid au

SYNOPSIS. in a shelter for hybrids, you are the first ever bunny hybrid to step foot in there. having no other other hybrids of your species in the shelter, a fox hybrid by the name of sunoo quickly tries to befriend you. despite meeting a lot of resistance from you initially, he soon succeeds. years later, when your first ever heat approaches, you have no other bunny hybrid to spend it with — but that's not a problem, since your best friend always has a solution.

WARNINGS. bullying, reader is considered an outcast, sexual harrasment, attempted sexual assault, reader suffers from extreme anxiety, mentions of past trauma, graphic descriptions of assault, one one-sided physical fight, smut, dubcon, unprotected sex (a big no), overstimulation, clit pinching, clit slapping, nipple pinching, tit slapping, lmk if I missed something!

WORD COUNT. 9k

A/N. GIRLLLL I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR THIS REQ literally love hybrid fics so much — and to write one of my own?!?! dream come true 🙂‍↕️ couldn't really incorporate corruption in this tho, sorry — hope you enjoy it nonetheless! p.s, had to take a ss of the req instead of directly answering it cuz tumblr literally put a content label on the damn draft 💀 also the smut is shorter than what I normally write, so please excuse that (along with the fact that I couldn't incorporate corruption and dumbification into this) — I'm trying to get used to the concept of 'going into heat' which is why the smut is short–

You were only fifteen years old when the shelter rescued you, having found you curled up in a corner under the bridge, freezing in the cold. They took you in almost immediately, giving you the care you required.

It took them almost two weeks to nurse you back to health, given how close you were to completely freeze over and die from the cold. It was one of the best two weeks of your life, having never received proper care before.

You never knew of your mother or your father, having been in a foster family for as long as you could remember — before they decided you were too much of a burden, taking you out for a ‘walk’, before abandoning you under the bridge, in the snowy weather, leaving you to freeze to death. If it weren't for your rescuers, you probably wouldn't have been alive right now.

While you were immensely thankful to the rescuers, it was weird for you at the shelter — once you were back to full health, that is.

‘And why is that?’, you may ask.

The answer is pretty simple. You were their first ever bunny hybrid.

Why exactly is that a problem? For that, you need to understand how the shelter works.

You see, just because the people rescued you and basically saved your life, doesn't necessarily mean they are good people.

The shelter was near the woods, at a place completely isolated from the rest of the world. The enclosure was huge, divided into several sections, each section having its own purpose.

The first section was for the younger hybrids, aka the hybrids who have yet to go into heat. Here, all the young ones stayed, hybrids of innumerable species mingling around together. This section contained several dorms, each one for a different species of hybrid. It also contained a large swimming pool and playground for the kids to enjoy.

The second section is the heat chamber, or rather, the breeding chamber. Here, hybrids were brought in whenever they went into heat. If two hybrids of the same species but different genders went into heat at the same time, they were locked inside one room for them to breed during the time of their heat. If only one hybrid of a certain species went into heat with no opposite gender hybrid of the same species going through the same, the rescuers randomly picked off a hybrid of the same species from the adult section to breed with the one going in heat.

The third section is the adult section. Here, the hybrids who have already had their first heat are brought, keeping them away from the younger ones.

The last section is the least important one. The servants’ quarter. Here, all the staff in the shelter resided.

The most peculiar thing about the shelter was that the hybrids weren't allowed to go into a section that wasn't their own. For example, an adult hybrid couldn't go into the younger section, and vice versa. Why did this rule exist, you had no idea.

Every section had different sections for different species to stay in, only during the time when they were supposed to take rest/sleep. Since you were the first ever bunny hybrid, you were completely alone in your section, which gave you great privacy during the first two weeks of your stay at the shelter, when the rescuers were trying to nurse you back to health.

It was only after you had completely recovered was when you realized the gravity of the situation.

After much coaxing, you had cautiously stepped out of your room, holding onto the hand of one of your kind rescuers tightly, eyes nervously darting around. This was the first time you had stepped out of your room, feeling extremely anxious at having to step out of your comfort zone — which was why your sweet rescuer was assisting you.

She didn't let go of your hand at all while you guys walked, whispering sweet words of encouragement to you along the way — something which your fifteen year old self appreciated a lot.

You both stopped in front of a door, causing you to look at her, fear evident in your eyes. She simply gave you a comforting smile, squeezing your hand slightly as a form of encouragement, before pushing the door open.

The door led to a huge open area, enclosed with walls. Hybrids of all types were in the open space, the oldest ones being teenagers. Most of them were playing around, some of the older ones sitting around and talking, laughing with each other. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with each other.

The staff had already informed you about how you were their first ever bunny hybrid — a fact that had only heightened your anxiousness. There really weren't anymore bunny hybrids, causing you to look around nervously.

No one had seemed to notice your presence yet, something which you were fine with — before your rescuer cleared her throat loudly, making everyone stop their activities and look at you both with a curiosity that they didn't bother hiding.

You watched all of their expressions morph into confusion, your own anxiety hiking, your palms starting to become sweaty. You could see them whispering amongst themselves, their confusion evident in their voices — they had never come across a bunny hybrid before, so seeing you in front of them was a bit of a shock.

Your rescuer let go of your hand, causing you to snap your head towards her. She gave you an encouraging smile, beckoning you to go towards them with a tilt of her head. You shook your head, not feeling too encouraged from their reactions.

Yet, after a few seconds of debating with yourself, you slowly turned towards them again — a big mistake on your part. Everyone had a frown on their face, their whispering having intensified. The message they were trying to give you was as clear as day — you weren't welcome here.

Most of them had been here for a while, the older ones having been rescued a long time ago — just like you were — the younger ones having been bred. Most of them already knew each other for a long time, so to see a newcomer hybrid among them? That too of a species that they had never seen before? Why on earth would they welcome you?

You hated the glances they were giving in your direction, their whispers making your skin crawl. It was all so overwhelming to you — especially given the past cruelty that you had faced from your previous owners.

You could feel your eyes start to sting slightly, tears gathering on your eyelashes like transparent pearls. You were about to turn around and run right back through the door, to go to your room and lock yourself inside, never to come out again — before a sudden movement caught your eye.

A young boy — or rather, a fox hybrid — got off the swing that he was sitting on, before taking off in a run — with a jolt, you realized that he was running towards you.

He stopped almost right in front of you, his hands on his knees, panting, as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't look much older than you, his fox ears twitching, tail swishing in between his legs. He shook his head slightly, dusting the invisible dust on his clothes, before standing up straight, sending a radiant smile towards you. His smile was almost bright enough to blind you, his facial features — even the human part — greatly resembled that of a fox’s. His bangs fell on his eyes like a curtain, doing nothing to deter his natural beauty. He extended his hand towards you, his eyes almost turning into crescents from his radiant smile. “Hi! I'm Sunoo! You're the first ever bunny hybrid here, so that's why everyone is a little iffy towards you — but that's alright! They will warm up to you in no time. Would you like to be friends?”

Having noticed other people's reactions towards you, you were skeptical to accept his proposal of being friends — not to mention he was a fox hybrid — a predator. Would it really be ideal to be friends with someone like him?

Your anxiety and fear mixed together, causing you to take a step back, your eyes shaking slightly. Your reaction caused a small pout to form on his face, but it didn't deter him. He took a step forward, his hand still extended towards you. “Come on, let's be friends — I promise I don't bite–”

His last sentence caused your anxiety to spike, causing you to step backwards again. The rescuer that came with you watched the scene unfold with amusement, knowing how Sunoo’s nature was. The rest of the hybrids rolled their eyes at him, wondering why he was trying so hard to befriend you when you were nothing like the rest of them — a ‘strange creature’, that's what they called you.

You couldn't take it anymore. Sunoo’s insistence to befriend you was causing the whispering to increase, the whispers gradually becoming more hostile, all sorts of nonsense directed towards you. You balled up your fists, before turning on your heel, taking off in a run.

You tried to get to the door, your efforts in vain as the door was closed. Reaching it, you realized it was locked. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned, your heart almost jumping out of your chest when you realized that Sunoo was right behind you. Once again, there was a pout on his face. “I know I look a little scary but I promise I’m harmless! C’mon, let’s be friends — I won’t leave you alone until you say yes!"

You were frankly starting to get annoyed by him. You had never met a boy — or rather, a hybrid — around your age, and you wished it stayed that way. Why must he be so persistent? Besides, the idea of a predator and prey being friends was simply — weird. Surely he was smart enough to know that?

Sunoo either didn’t realize that, or he didn’t care. Either way, he wasn’t leaving you alone, following you around the entire space — playground — not caring about your efforts of trying to avoid him at all costs. He ran after you, calling out to you, yelling ‘slow down!’ behind you. You paid no heed, only running faster, trying to escape him. The other hybrids had lost interest in you by now, leaving both of you in your own little world.

At one point, you saw your rescuer open the door to leave, causing you to speed up. Before she could close the door, you slipped outside. You did a mental dance for how fast you were, before turning around, your heart dropping.

There was Sunoo, right behind you, panting again, his hands on his knees. He slowly straightened up, before speaking. “Wow, you’re super fast — I usually outrun everyone but you’re even faster than me! We should definitely be friends now, don’t you think so?”

You blinked at him, both annoyed and impressed by how persistent he was. You quickly turned on your heel, running away to your room. Just as you were about to close the door to your room, he stuck his foot inside the crack, causing you to jump back from shock. He opened the door by himself, before letting himself in, closing the door behind him.

He looked around your room in awe, before turning to you. “Your room is so different from ours — we don’t have such huge windows!”

You stared at him, your lips parted in shock. You had greatly underestimated exactly how persistent he was. For the first time since you met the other hybrids, you spoke. “Why are you inside my room? Why won’t you leave me alone? The others don’t like me, so why are you so insistent on being friends?”

Sunoo blinked rapidly, before speaking. “Woah there, slow down — one question at a time please. You keep running away, so I followed you here. As for why I won’t leave you alone, I already told you — I won’t leave you alone until you agree to be friends with you. I can be very persuasive — perks of being a fox hybrid. As for ‘why’ — I love making friends, and since you don’t want to be my friend, it just makes me want to befriend you even more.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him through furrowed brows, your bunny ears twitching in annoyance. “When will you give up?”

He grinned, leaning on the wall on the shelf on his side. “As soon as you agree to be friends with me. You definitely look like you need friends, especially here — everyone needs a companion here, don't you think?”

With a sigh of resignation, you gave up. He had already made it quite clear that he wasn't going to leave you alone — no matter how hard you try to escape him. It was better to just accept his proposal, wasn't it? Besides, he was the only one here who showed a positive reaction to your arrival, he could be a good friend. “Fine! Let's be friends then.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, he stopped leaning on the shelf, looking at you with an even brighter smile than before, his eyes sparkling. “Really?! See, I told you I am very persuasive — come on, let's go back to the playground, I'll give you a tour!”

Sunoo excitedly grabbed your hand, dragging you back to the playground. The entire way he kept talking about the shelter, its different sections, the various restrictions and what not.

“–and then there is the heat chamber, or for lack of a better word, the breeding chamber. Whenever one of us goes into heat, we are made to stay there, in the company of another hybrid of the same species as us.”

You tilted your head, gazing at him with curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Heat?”

He momentarily stopped his tangent, turning to look at you. “Yea…? Do you not know what that means?”

When you shook your head, he continued, slight disbelief mixed in his voice. “Well — when we are between the age of eighteen and twenty one, we experience our first ever heat. During our heat, we feel extremely feverish and an overwhelming urge to — well, mate. Unless and until our body thinks that we have mated, we are going to be — absolutely feral. It would be dangerous for a hybrid in heat to be around people — unless it's their mating partner.”

Once he was done explaining, his gaze had turned a lot more sheepish, trying to avoid making eye contact with you. His tail swished nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulped, trying to gulp down his sudden flusteredness.

His flustered state affected you as well, your ears twitching nervously, your face and neck flushed, burning hot with embarrassment. You cleared your throat. “T–Thank you–”

He nodded, the redness starting to slowly disappear from his cheeks. “You’re welcome — oh did you know about–” Just like that, he went back to talking about random stuff. As you listened to him go on and on about even the most mundane of things, you started to zone out, thinking deeply.

Sunoo was an extremely bright person, almost as bright as the sun. He had a smile so radiant that it could light up an entire room. He was extremely intelligent and had really good intuition. He was good at observing people too, and could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. He was friends with literally everyone in the shelter, which also allowed him to have extensive knowledge about what happens in the shelter; which explained why he knew so much about the shelter and its ways.

He showed no signs of shutting up anytime soon. Just as you were about to snap at him, a loud bell rang, cutting him off. He looked at you with a pout. “That’s the bell — it’s telling us to retreat to our rooms.”

You were relieved at finally getting a chance to get away from him and his non stop babbling — but of course you weren’t going to tell him that. “Right — I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

He flashed his blindingly bright smile at you. “Definitely! You can’t get rid of me anytime soon–”

He got cut off by a staff yelling at the two of you to cut it out and go back to your rooms, causing his pout to return. He reluctantly waved you goodbye, before the two of you parted ways.

As days passed by, you and Sunoo grew closer, your bond unbreakable. At times you felt a little guilty for hogging up all of his time, since you weren’t his only friend — but whenever you voiced this out to him, he always shot you down.

“You’re my best friend. It doesn’t matter if I have other friends — you’re always going to be my first priority.”

You would feel your fluffy tail twitch from slight embarrassment at his words, your face flushing. All you would do was nod and give him a grateful smile.

Other times you would feel pissed. What did he mean by ‘first priority’? Did he think that you wouldn’t survive without him? That you were a pitiful person with only one friend — that friend being him?

You would quickly shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. How stupid and ungrateful of you — to think so lowly of the only person that willingly became friends with you? The only person in this dreadful shelter that shows you a bit of care?

It was weird — your thoughts, that is. You definitely were more anxious than any other hybrid in the shelter — a trait that was probably passed down from your human parent. You absolutely hated it, but you had to bear with it. After all, you couldn’t possibly do anything about it anymore — especially given the situation.

It was around a month or two after your twentieth birthday, Sunoo’s own birthday having passed a little over six months or so. The two of you were sitting in the sun, on top of a blanket, joking and laughing around with each other. Suddenly, Sunoo’s laugh died down, his forehead creasing. “What the fuck — why do I suddenly feel sick?”

And sick he was. His entire body was suddenly covered in a sheen of sweat, beads of it falling down his temple. His face and neck was flushed. He let out a low groan, clutching his head, screwing his eyes shut. You quickly reached over to place a hand on his forehead, checking his temperature — only to jerk your hand back immediately. He was burning up.

He held his head with both hands, low groans of discomfort leaving him, his ears twitching, tail swishing about. Feeling helpless, you looked around, not finding a single staff in the huge playground.

You looked back at him, biting your lip at how terribly he seemed to be suffering out of nowhere. You made up your mind, before trying to pull him up to his feet. “Cooperate with me here Sunoo, we need to get you to a staff so that you can be taken care of.”

WIth difficulty, you managed to haul him up to his feet, the two of you almost stumbling. You managed to drag him to the door, opening it. Once you were inside again, you began yelling. “Hello? Is anyone there? He is sick and in need of immediate medical attention–”

No sooner did you finish yelling, did two staff members appear. The both rushed to you, quickly taking him off your hands. With haste, they pulled him to the medical area, quickly assisting him onto a bed. As you watched from outside, you saw some of the staff inside whispering amongst themselves, pointing to your best friend.

After a while of examining him, you saw the staff inside break out into smiles, before quickly replacing it with their usual stoic expressions. One of the staff members came out. “He is alright, he just needs to rest for a while.”

You frowned. “How long is ‘a while’?”

The staff subtly rolled her eyes. “As long as it takes. Off you go now.”

Before you could say another word, she was gone, already going back inside. Once inside, she noticed you still looking inside through the glass. She quickly walked over to the area, before shutting the blinds, not before you caught another glimpse of Sunoo, passed out on the bed, drenched in his own sweat.

If you had looked a little harder, you would have noticed the tent slowly forming in his pants.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred, thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred, sixty minutes. One million, two hundred nine thousand, six hundred seconds.

That's how long it had been since you last saw Sunoo.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this lonely. It almost hurt your pride to admit, but you cried a few times to sleep over the past few days.

If this wasn’t already enough, the other hybrids finally got an opening to bully you, without having to worry about your best friend coming to defend you. Every time you went to the playground, you were cornered by hybrids of various species, all of them having the same aim — to make your life miserable.

They usually poked fun at your long ears and tiny tail, sometimes going as far as to grab them, pulling on them — you still being the shelter’s only bunny hybrid did not help deter the bullies.

They would call you a spineless coward and laugh at you when they would notice the tears start to gather at your waterline — only leaving you alone when a staff would interfere, which, nine-out-of-ten times, did not happen.

You were in the playground again, the only reason for you going there was in hopes of seeing Sunoo — a hope that got shattered pretty soon.

As soon as you stepped foot in the playground, you felt a harsh push to your back, causing you to fall down, face first. You somehow managed to not fall on your face and potentially break your nose, by balancing yourself on your hands. As you peered over your shoulder, your ears drooped from fear.

Two of the most notorious hybrids were right behind you, identical grins on their faces, grins that screamed ‘evil!’. They were two bull hybrids, fraternal twins. Their sole purpose in life was to annoy the fuck out of people. The worst thing about them was that they had no idea where to draw the line.

One of them, the bigger one out of the two, sneered down at you. “What a pathetic little bunny — can’t even defend herself. What, you need your cute little fox hybrid to defend you all the time? Is that why you’re always around him? Pathetic.”

By now, you had fully turned around, your entire weight resting on your palms. Your eyes flicked between the two of them nervously, not knowing what they might do to you.

The second one leaned down to your height, before lifting a hand and rubbing at the fur of your ear, causing you to flinch. He paid no attention to your flinching, continuing to fondle your ear. He then turned to his twin and spoke. “Do you see how soft her fur is? If we had more than one of her, a boy, we could have made such pretty babies — each one would be sold at a higher rate than the previous one — all because of their fur.”

You froze at their words, your eyes growing wide with fear. What the fuck?–

You tried to subtly crawl backwards, something which they immediately caught on to. The one touching your ear grabbed it tightly, pulling it with enough force to make a strangled cry leave your throat. “Where the fuck do you think you're going? We haven't even done anything yet.”

To your utmost horror, he grabbed the front of your top, before trying to pull on it. You immediately stopped him with your hands, refusing to be taken advantage of in such a manner. The two of them laughed at you, before the one pulling at your clothes doubled his efforts. “Come on dumb bunny, just let me do this — you bunnies are supposed to be in heat almost all the time anyway, along with a very high libido — why are you pretending like you don't want this? Like you aren't a fucking slut under that ‘holier–than–thou’ guise of yours?”

You were beyond disgusted by their words, trying your best to stop the guy from attempting to defile you. In the process of your struggles, a button from your top popped off, causing your breath to hitch. Taking advantage of your momentary distraction, he pulled harder, effectively managing to tear it open.

You let out a loud gasp, both of fear and embarrassment, quickly lifting your hands to cover yourself. You were suddenly aware of how the three of you weren't the only ones in the playground, also how none of the others had come to your rescue.

They tried to push your hands away from where they were covering yourself. “Stop fucking acting like you aren't a whore — this can be over so much faster if you just fucking cooperate–”

You wrapped your arms around your chest tighter, tears starting to gather in your eyes. You felt disgusted by them, but even more disgusted by the rest of the hybrids who were simply watching the spectacle, enjoying it even–

His twin grew impatient, coming down behind you grabbing at your arms and assisting him in trying to pull them away from your chest. He managed to pry off a finger, causing them to redouble their efforts. It paid off, and they were able to almost pull off one of your hands–

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

The two of them froze at the sudden interruption, before turning to look at the source. You peeked around them too, to look at your savior, your eyes greeting a sight that caused them to widen, almost comically so.

The person who yelled was none other than your best friend, Sunoo, who you hadn’t seen in an entire fortnight. He looked — different.

His fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles almost turning white from the pressure. There was an angry crease in his forehead, his eyebrows scrunched from barely contained anger. His jaw was clenched, a singular vein being prominent in his neck, pulsing wildly. His ears stood erect on his head, his tail swinging wildly. He looked like he was seconds away from pouncing them and ripping them into shreds.

It seemed like the twins had the same thought about him, both of them quickly getting up and running away. You hugged yourself tighter, remembering that your top was still torn.

Your best friend noticed your action, his demeanor immediately softening. He quickly rushed to you, shielding your body with his, before slowly ushering you up. He made sure to cover you, to save what little dignity you had left, dragging you to the door. Opening it, he stepped inside, quickly pulling you in the direction of your room. Once inside, he quickly shut the door, turning the other way, giving you the much needed privacy to change.

Once you were done changing, you let him know. “I’m decent now — you can turn around.”

He slowly turned around looking at you. The two of you held eye-contact for a bit, before breaking it, checking out each other’s appearance. He had certainly had two rough weeks, his hair seeming one shade darker than its natural color, face looking haggard. He also had enormous dark circles — yet none of it deterred his natural beauty. Judging by his concerned eyes, you could only assume that you too looked different from how he last saw you, although you had it a lot worse.

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out to tentatively cup your face. “Did they try to do something like this before as well? I swear I’ll kill them–”

You quickly cut him off. “No no — they didn’t try anything as — as physical as this before. This was the first time…”

His eyes darkened at your words. “‘As physical’? They did other things to you?”

Your breath hitched at the dark edge in his voice. “T-They did — but it wasn't anything serious! It was just — a bit of teasing, that is all.”

He pursed his lips, his eyes still taking all over you in concern. “If you say so…”

You looked at his own state, an overwhelming urge to hug him coming over you — so you did.

You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, your chest colliding with his, almost knocking the breath out of him from the force of the impact. He looked at you in shock, since you had never hugged him before. He quickly hugged you back, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer, rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a small sigh of contentment. You hadn't realized what a big part of your life he had become, only realizing it after the torturous two weeks that you had to endure without him.

You almost couldn't believe how much you missed him, how badly you craved his presence. You were grateful for having him in your life, and you truly wished you could say all of it to him — but that's hard to do, given your reserved nature. But you still try.

And you did try. “I missed you — so fucking much. Every day was practically torture without you…”

He somehow hugged you tighter, nuzzling himself into you. “I missed you a lot too — you have no idea how badly it was killing me to not be able to talk to you.”

You broke the hug, staring into his eyes. “What happened to you though? They told me you’ll be alright, and didn't even let me see you. When I went to visit you in the medical room, you weren't even there — I asked the staff, and they told me you needed better medical attention and were getting treated elsewhere. I tried pressing for more details, but they refused to say anything. How sick were you that they couldn't even let me visit?”

He grimaced slightly. “I — wasn't exactly sick.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “You weren't sick? How is that possible? You were burning up when I got you to the medical area, and they moved you to another place–”

He sucked in a deep breath, cutting you off. “I wasn't sick — I was in heat.”

You froze, blinking aggressively to process the information. “You were in heat?” You echoed.

“In heat.” He echoed back.

You opened your mouth to say something, before closing it again. So your best friend went into heat two weeks ago — which means his heat probably ended today. Which also means that he is basically classified as an ‘adult’ now, like all the other hybrids that have gone into heat at least once. So how on earth did he come inside the so-called ‘younger’ section? Weren't hybrids of different sections not allowed to go into the other sections?

When you voiced out your concerns to him, he gave you a wry smile. “Technically speaking, I'm not allowed to be here — but being friends with even the staff had its perks, I suppose. They allow me to go anywhere I want, unless it results in a life-threatening situation.”

You nodded skeptically. “Right — so I'll still see you everyday? Like how I did before — before you went into heat?”

“Yep. You will.” He confirmed.

You sighed. “That's great–”

The sound of the bell ringing cut you off. You hadn't even realized how much time had passed. He ran a hand through his hair. “See you tomorrow then?”

“Yep — see you tomorrow.”

It was around 4 weeks later, the time when Sunoo’s heat was supposed to hit him again. The two of you had somehow grown even closer than before, stuck to the hip at all times. Your best friend seemed to have become a lot more protective too, having an arm around you at all times, glaring at anyone who seemed to look your way. He had changed a lot personality wise as well, becoming a lot colder than before — although he was still friendly to most people.

The two of you were walking around aimlessly in the halls, silently. Both of you were anxiously counting down to when his heat was going to hit him, even if it wasn’t fixed — for all you both knew, it could be the tomorrow, yet that thought didn’t remove the anxiousness that had enveloped the two of you.

Suddenly you stopped, an indescribable feeling taking over you. It was almost as if someone wrapped you in a blanket filled with heating pads.

You felt hot, hotter than you ever felt before. It was a searing heat that was tearing at your insides, crawling through your skin, begging to be let out. It was tickling everywhere, spreading inside your body like a wildfire, licking at everything in it’s way–

It was only when your bestfriend shook you did you realize that you had fallen in his arms, the heat having caused you to faint momentarily. “Are you alright? You just fainted out of nowhere and are sweating a lot–”

You tuned his voice out, too focused on his concerned face. There was a crease between his eyebrows, a concerned frown on his face. Your ears twitched as you realized how pretty his eyes looked from this close, his lips looking like a pair of soft velvety cushions. You concentrated on the way they were moving. You wondered if his lips would move against yours like that if he kissed you. How would his lips even feel against yours? Soft? Aggressive? Or would it–

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. What were you even thinking? That was your best friend of almost five years now, how could you think of him in such a crude manner?

With a burning shame, you realized that your tail was twitching violently, panties were soaked — the immense heat in your body not making it any better. You had no idea what was happening, so you looked at Sunoo for help.

He looked at your pleading eyes and sweaty body in his arms, before the realization dawned on him. You were going in heat.

He quickly placed his hand that was under your waist more securely, before bending down to place his other hand under your knees, carrying you in bridal style. He ran in the direction of the heat chamber, calling out for staff on the way.

Once he was in front of the chamber, he kicked the door open, quickly running to the bunny section, having now been joined by two staff members, running by his side, shouting directions to him. He rushed you inside one of the rooms in that section, placing you down on the bed gently.

Your eyes screwed shut, eyebrows furrowed, a low groan leaving you. You started to squirm on the bed, causing the two staff members to quickly rush forward and tie your hands and legs to the bed, shocking Sunoo. He couldn’t say anything, simply watching it all unfold in disbelief.

Once the staff were done tying you down, they stepped back, watching you squirm in the bed, the heat radiating off your body, the sweat having drenched your clothes making them stick to your body. Your best friend immediately turned to them, speaking to them with a clenched jaw and barely contained anger. “Why the fuck did you tie her down? Aren’t you supposed to put another bunny hybrid with her to help her with her heat?”

The female staff turned to him. “We don’t have any other bunny hybrids, I’m sure you already know that. She needs to spend her heat alone.”

He looked at her, appalled. “Alone?! You know that’s not safe! She could die from the immense heat!”

Both the staff members rolled their eyes at him, ushering him out and walking out of the room themselves. “She will be fine, she’ll just have a terribly high fever. She’ll live.”

He stared at them in disbelief, the male staff pulling him outside by grabbing his arm. He looked behind him at your writhing figure, little whines of discomfort leaving you. The scene was quickly replaced by the door, as the staff shut it. They locked the door, before turning to him. “It will be better if you leave now. You won’t be able to hear her either, the walls are soundproof.”

They turned to leave immediately, causing his anger to spike. How could they be so cruel? How could they leave you to potentially die?

But you weren’t going to die. Not on his watch.

In a split second’s decision, he ran towards both the staff, grabbing the back of the head of the guy and pulling him backwards, slamming him down on the ground. The other staff gasped, quickly opening her mouth to scream — only to be grabbed by the throat. He lifted her by the throat, pushing her on the wall, restricting her air supply. Her face soon turned purple, before she fainted. He slammed her head on the wall behind her for good measure, before throwing her on the ground.

He turned behind him, looking at the guy on the ground. There was some blood on the back of his head, staining the ground, as he tried to crawl away. Your best friend quickly marched to the guy, before bending down. He grabbed the back of his head, before slamming it down on the ground again, knocking him out cold.

He fished for the keys to your room in the staffs’ pockets, before grabbing them and quickly going to your room. He unlocked the door, opening it, his ears filled with the sounds of your pitiful whimpers. He stepped inside, shutting the door and locking it from the inside. The way the doors were built, no one would be able to open a door in the heat chambers if they are locked from the inside, since hybrids go absolutely feral when they are in heat — a fact that he used to his advantage.

He turned to you, approaching you slowly. He had no idea why exactly he was doing this — all he knew was that he wanted — needed you to live, no matter what it would take.

He stopped right in front of you. His eyes raked over your figure, your entire body completely drenched — making you look like you were dunked in a pool with your clothes on. Your ears were twitching uncontrollably, your lips having formed a pout that kept trembling.

He lifted his hand, cupping your face, causing your eyes to shoot open. You took in a sharp intake of breath, panting heavily, staring at him with wide eyes. “Sunoo I — it’s so unbearably hot, I can’t–”

He was quick to silence you. “I know princess, I know. Just let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make it better.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, climbing over you on the bed, planting his legs on either side of you. He was quick to undo all the restraints on your body, giving you the freedom to move as you pleased. You didn’t move, simply staring up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes, breathing heavily. He was shocked at your self restraint — usually hybrids would be all over literally anyone near them when they are in heat — but a bunny hybrid?

Bunnies are supposed to be the most feral animals out there when they are in heat — hell, there was a literal phrase because of this exact fact, the phrase being ‘fucking like a rabbit in heat’. But somehow, you had a lot of self control — either that, or you hadn't yet registered what was exactly happening to you.

He cupped your face with one hand again, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down with just his thumb. Your eyes had glazed over, allowing him to do whatever he wanted — of course he was going to take advantage of that.

He grabbed the ends of your skirt, starting to slowly lift it up. Your body was drenched in sweat, the heat emancipating from you turning your head into mush. But your heat had not yet hit you fully, allowing a little portion of the rational part of your brain to protest against his actions.

As soon as he had lifted your skirt up enough to reveal the drenched cotton material of your panties for him to feast upon with his eyes, something in your brain snapped, allowing you to be aware of your surroundings once again.

Your eyes widened as you realized the position you were in — or rather, the position in which you and your best friend were in. “S–Sunoo what are you–”

He immediately silenced you with a finger to your lips. “Hush, pretty. This is all for your own good.”

You squirm underneath him. “M–My own good? But — we are friends — friends don't — don't do anything like this–”

He knitted his eyebrows, growing slightly impatient. “Do what? Save your life? I'm trying to make sure that nothing happens to you, and instead of being grateful you decide to be a brat? You realize I could easily leave you here to deal with your heat on your own, just like the staff were planning? But instead, I decided to go against them and help you with your heat, since there are no bunny hybrids in this shelter — other than you, of course — who can help you out. So just be quiet, yea? Stay put like a good girl and take what I'm giving you — it's all for your own good, after all.”

You went to protest again, but he quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to silence any further protests from you. He suddenly cupped you through your utterly soaked panties, causing your breath to hitch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling. A muffle moan left you, making him let go of his hold on your mouth, wanting to hear more of your pretty sounds.

He traced his finger on your panties, right above your slit, causing more slick to gush out of you and stain the bed below. He pushed the panties inside your slit with one poke of his finger, your bare pussy coming into his view. Your cunt was entirely covered in your slick, your pussy lips swollen, begging for attention. He groaned at the sight, his mouth salivating from the sight itself. “Look at you princess — look so fucking pretty like this. Are you sure you didn’t want this?”

You could say nothing, only a whimper leaving you at his words, the insatiable need to get fucked slowly clouding up your brain. You bucked your hips against his hand, needing him to do something, anything.

He finally decided to stop torturing you, pulling your panties down and throwing them on the floor. As soon as the cold air hit your bare cunt, your heat hit you fully.

The lower part of your body felt like it was on fire, excessive slick pouring out of you in obnoxiously large amounts. Your whines increased to a fever pitch, your hips bucking up wildly in the air. You grabbed your best friend’s shoulders tightly, pulling him into a rough kiss. Your hips bucked against his in a desperate manner, his groans only increasing your need to be filled.

You were finally acting exactly how a bunny in heat was supposed to act, turning him on a lot more than you should have. His own pants grew tighter and tighter, stained by your slick. The kiss grew messier, saliva smearing all over your chins.

He finally had enough, grabbing both of your hands in one of his own, before breaking the kiss, your whines immediately filling the air. They quickly died down once he tore your skirt, discarding the ruined material by throwing it somewhere in the room. He did the same to the rest of your clothes. In normal circumstances, you would have definitely minded, but right now your brain was too lust-driven to care.

He let go of your hands once he was done completely undressing you — big mistake on his part, since you immediately grabbed his shirt and tore the buttons open. You fiddled with the button on his jeans, him having to assist you, before he was revealed to you in all his naked glory.

His cock stood tall and proud against his stomach, his tip an angry red, leaking a generous amount of precum. Under normal circumstances, he would have taken his time — eat you out; make you sit on his face, suck him off — but right now you were too desperate for any kind of foreplay. He knew nothing would satisfy your heat until you were properly bred — which was exactly what he was going to do.

He grabbed both your hands again and pinned them above your head in one of his own, before you became impatient again. He slowly pumped his cock in the other, smearing his precum all over it — not that he needed to, since your slick was enough to use as a lube.

Your impatient whining started once again, hips bucking up in the air, causing him to chuckle. “Such an impatient little brat, can't even wait to get filled up. It's all you need anyway, isn't it? Such a cock hungry whore”

Before you could say anything — even if you did it would probably be some pathetic pleading on your side — he aligned his tip with your entrance, coating it with some of your slick, before sliding in with ease, bottoming out. He reveled in the high pitched whimper that left you at the intrusion, one hand pressing down on the bulge on your stomach. The added pressure caused your eyes to roll up, cute breathy ‘please’s’ falling from your pretty lips, which were swollen from the intensity of the kiss earlier.

He pulled himself almost completely out, before plunging inside again. He set up a brutal pace, the slick pouring out of you making it easier for him. He held your hips tightly, snapping his own into yours, your slick making loud squelching sounds at the impacts.

He reached one of his hands up, pinching and twisting your nipple between his fingers, rubbing it harshly. He delivered a rough slap to your tits, your moans simply increasing in volume.

His hand traveled downwards, going to your clit, pinching it. He rubbed hardened nub harshly, the added sensation making your breath uneven, whimpers of his name falling from your lips. He cursed, before increasing the pace of his hips, slamming into you at such a fast pace that it almost felt like he was trying to tear apart your insides.

It was almost as if he felt like it wasn't enough, causing him to put his hands under your thighs and lift your legs up, pushing them against your chest. He rammed his hips against yours once again, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper, right into your cervix. As soon as his tip touched the spongy part of your walls, you let out a loud gasp, a shiver running through you. He smirked at your reaction. “Found it.”

He pounded into you at an even faster pace, your hands desperately holding onto the headboard, your ears flopping wildly with every thrust of his. His mushroom tip hit your cervix every time, whimpers falling from your lips in a beautiful melody.

His jaw was clenched, his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat. Even if he could reach deeper and feel your walls clenching around him tighter, the position wasn't enough — no, he needed to breed you like a proper mate would, otherwise this would be of no use.

As soon as he tried to slide out of you, you somehow managed to wrap your arms around his neck — albeit with some difficulty due to the position he had you in — and held him tightly, not allowing him to move. He was caught off-guard for a moment, before he allowed a smirk to break through. “What happened princess? Is this not enough for you?”

You whined slightly. “D-Don’t go — ‘m close–”

As soon as the words left your mouth, his eyes darkened, causing him to grab your thighs again, pressing them harder against your chest, nearly folding your body in half. He slammed his hips into yours at a brutal pace, barely giving you time to breathe. Every thrust of his had you screaming his name, the band in your stomach tightening almost painfully.

He brought one hand down to your clit, rubbing it painfully, the added stimulation making you choke on your screams. He flicked your clit, before pinching it harshly, causing you to reach your breaking point.

Your body spasmed around him, your creamy release coating his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, a white ring forming on the base of his cock, making him groan at the sight. Once you stopped spasming, he pulled out — even though he hadn't cum yet.

His cock was pulsing, the tip an angry red. His entire length was covered with your sticky release, causing him to suck in a breath. His eyes went to your face.

You were still coming down from your high — which was hard, since you could only do so once you had been bred — which you clearly haven't. Even if you did, it still wouldn't be enough, since you would be hit with another wave in twenty minutes — the process would continue for two weeks, before your heat finally gets over.

Neither your problem was solved, nor was his, which only led to one logical solution — to fuck you again. He had to breed you, even if the two of you technically couldn't have kids because of the difference in species — but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

He grabbed your waist, before quite easily flipping you onto your back, pushing your ass up the air — making you properly present yourself the way you would for your mate. You let out a loud gasp — even if your heat hadn't calmed down, you were still very sensitive at the moment, the aftershocks of your orgasm still evident.

Even if he realized it, he didn't care. He aligned his throbbing length to your pussy once again, before slamming himself inside. His mushroom tip immediately pushed into your g-spot, making you see stars. Noticing your body's reaction, he pulled out almost completely, leaving only the tip inside, before slamming himself back in. You choked on your gasp, but he showed no mercy. He pounded into you at a rough pace, the mating position making the whole situation a lot more intimate.

He tried to not give it much thought, focusing on the way he kept disappearing inside you, the primal urge to mark and breed you taking over the rational part of his brain — even if breeding you was physically not possible.

He pushed his hand under your stomach, pulling you up, your back colliding with his chest. His hand then reached up to grab your neck, a small whimper escaping you. He squeezed your throat slightly, continuing to ram his hips into yours. The sounds of both of your skins slapping against each other filled up the room, along with your moans. His other hand reached down to your clit, rubbing it harshly, trying to force another orgasm out of you.

It wasn't too hard, given that you were in heat and hadn't been bred yet. Your moans increased substantially, alerting him of how close you were. With one last slap to your clit, your cunt clenched around him tightly, your walls spasming around him. Your creamy release dripped past his length, staining the bed under you.

Your orgasm triggered his own, causing his hips to still, his head thrown back with a groan. He shot out hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls white. His hips moved shallowly inside you, his dick twitching, until he was spent. He pulled out his softening length, your exhausted body flopping down on the bed.

He flopped down beside you, his own chest rising up and down from the exertion, trying to catch his breath. He turned to you, pulling you in a hug. He stroked your hair softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How do you feel?”

You nuzzled your face against his chest. “Like I'm on cloud nine.”

He let out an amused smirk, which quickly vanished. His body was somehow starting to fill up with an unexplainable heat, blood once again rushing to his cock. He frowned, unable to tell why he was suddenly turned on even after having practically fucked you to oblivion — before it hit him.

His heat was due.

As the realization hit him, his body began to be covered by a sheen of sweat, beads of precum forming at his tip. He whispered a small ‘sorry’ before climbing on top of you again.

At least the two of you were going to be together.

388 notes · View notes

peachyloveswriting · 1 year

Note

What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.

#vash imagines #vash imagine #vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x you #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nicholas wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader

2K notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 3 months

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could write a Loki one-shot where the Avengers are invited to a very fancy party, even bigger and fancier than Tony’s parties, it’s in a huge restaurant and all and the female reader is very popular singer, like VERY, who has her own huge concerts and all and she agrees to sing on the event. Loki and Peter are both Avengers.

Now, I’m not saying anything romantic about Peter, because he’s literally a teen boy, I just love when Pete is a cute little shit, so maybe he is huge fan of the reader.

And Loki also takes liking into her and after some time Loki and reader will meet again and blah blah, you decide from then. Just don’t make it smut please. My pure ass heart can’t take it. Just fluff.

I know that you have written something similar to this, about that hex girls or something, but I want the reader to be a solo singer and worldwide popular and not just to sing at Tony’s party, but at something as huge and fancy as this event.

If you don’t like the idea or just don’t want to write it, it’s okay! I love your writing so much btw♡

—xoxo

Melody of Mischief

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: The Avengers are invited to the Battle of New York Charity Gala and it is the event everyone who is anyone in Manhattan wants to attend, except for Loki. Peter is uncontrollably excited as he tries to explain to the God of Mischief that the singer performing at the gala is his absolute favorite artist, Y/N. Loki remains unconvinced he will enjoy even a moment of the evening until he has a chance encounter with the rising star and realizes you are even more amazing than Peter had said you would be.

A/N: OMG I love this request! I absolutely love Loki and Peter together but I've only gotten to write them interacting once or twice so I am super excited about this. I'm sorry if it seems front loaded with the two of them but there is plenty of Y/N and fluff, I promise. Lol thanks for specifically requesting a one-shot cause I have a tendency to make things way too long... this is still really long though lol. Thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it! 💚

Thank you @siconetribal for help with the title! 💚 if it were up to me, my stuff would never have one haha

Loki sighs in annoyance as he closes his book. Placing it on the coffee table, he gets up to answer the frantic knocking at his door.

"What do you-" he begins to ask as he opens the door. Before he can finish his question, Peter has walked right past him and into his apartment.

"Hey Loki," he says cheerfully as he pulls off his jacket and throws it haphazardly over the back of the armchair. Loki watches the teen drop his backpack on the ground near the couch and begin pacing quickly around the living room.

"Hello Peter," Loki greets him, trying to push aside his irritation. Had it been his brother or another member of the team, he would have swiftly removed them from his apartment but the young Avenger had begun to grow on the God of Mischief in recent months.

"Did you hear the news?" Peter asks with a wide grin.

"I assure you, I have heard nothing today that would make me anywhere near as excitable as you currently appear to be," Loki responds as he uses his seidr to pick up Peter's discarded bag and jacket, placing them on the hooks by the door.

"Sorry about those," Peter apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't dislike when you visit but I will insist my space remains orderly," he reminds the teenager and Peter nods. "Now, what is this news?" he asks as he takes a seat on the couch, picking up his tea while Peter wanders into the kitchen.

Loki sighs hearing the fridge open. "They are on the bottom shelf," he calls to the hungry teen. "And the cabinet to the left of the stove," he adds knowing exactly what Peter is in search of.

"Thanks," he calls back then returns moments later with a small bottle of orange juice, a bag of pretzels and two pieces of string cheese.

"I still refuse to believe that is or ever was cheese," Loki says as Peter opens the plastic wrapper.

"These are fantastic," he insists with a smile, pulling apart the cheese. "Why do you keep buying them if you don't eat it?"

Loki takes a sip of his tea, refusing to voice the obvious answer that he buys them specially for Peter's visits. He teen laughs but knows not to push his luck and instead focuses on Loki's question.

"They finally announced who's going to be playing at the big gala tomorrow night!" he says, plopping himself on the couch next to Loki who holds his mug tightly to keep from spilling any of the hot liquid. Peter pauses a moment for dramatic effect but the God shows no signs of curiosity. "Oh come on, don't you want to know who it is?" he asks in disbelief but Loki only shrugs in response.

Peter gets up, unable to contain his own excitement. "How could you not care? It's going to be epic! The best party on the year, maybe the decade," he says.

"I am a thousand years old, I have been to a great many parties, Peter," Loki reminds him then takes a sip of his tea. "And besides, I am not sure I would like to attend a charity event that is being held to raise money for victims of my attack on the city."

"Right..." Peter says slowly, lowering his eyes to the ground but then he looks back at Loki. "Actually," he starts again and Loki can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "If you don't go... it might be seen as disrespectful, you know? You attacked the city when you were under the Mind Stone's power, everyone knows that but if you don't show up at the fundraiser they might not think you are... what's the right word?" he pauses, trying to pull in the God of Mischief.

"Remorseful?" Loki guesses, knowing what the teen is trying to do.

"That's it," he says, thinking he has the prince where he wants him.

"You make an interesting point," Loki acts as if he is truly considering it then adds, "But I am still not going."

"Ugh!" he groans at Loki's lack of enthusiasm. "Come on! The artist they picked is amazing! She's my favorite. I can't even believe she would agree to do this. She usually plays only massive, sold out concerts. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to see her, especially not at something like this," he says as he jumps onto the wall then the ceiling. Loki can't help but cringe at the scuff marks the teen leaves behind as he moves above him.

"You still don't know who I'm talking about? It's Y/N," he says as he jumps back to the ground.

"I have no idea who that is," Loki replies as Peter sits next to him.

"What!? How could you not know who she is," Peter asks in shock. "I play her music every time we're in the lab together. You were humming one of her songs yesterday."

"It must have wedged itself into my mind after you set it on repeat," Loki says, unwilling to admit it was a very catchy tune with surprisingly deep lyrics. "It doesn't matter who is playing, I will not be attending and that is final," Loki states, setting his mug down on the coffee table.

With a mouth full of pretzels Peter asks, "Seriously?" He swallows quickly and continues, "I told you, it's going to be the biggest party ever. How could you not go? I would give anything to go but I can't." He sulks on the couch, arms crossed.

"Why would you not attend?" Loki asks as he gets up, walking into the kitchen to put his empty mug in the sink.

"I didn't get invited," he shrugs, "I'm only an intern for Stark Industries, remember? Spiderman got invited but I can't wear the suit and mask the whole night. I won't be able to eat or drink plus people always try to get me to take it off and it just gets really annoying."

Loki sighs, looking at the upset teenager on his couch. "Do not make me regret this, Peter," he says and the boy looks up, his eyes full of hope. Loki shakes his head as if he can't believe what he is about to say. "Fine, I will go... and I will bring you as my plus one."

Peter sits up straight, the excitement returning but it quickly fades and he says, "It's too late for me to get a nice suit to wear."

Loki says, "I can help with that as well." He snaps his fingers and a black suit appears in a garment bag on the hook next to Peter's belongings.

Peter gets up and before Loki can react, he pulls the God into a tight hug. Loki doesn't hug him back, his arms trapped under Peter's and after a second he says, "That is quite enough of that, please let go."

"Oh yea, sorry," Peter says taking a step back. Loki smooths out his dress shirt but Peter can see the hint of a smile on his face when he looks back at him.

Loki steps onto the red carpet wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with matching black dress shirt and tie. Peter is close on his heels in the suit Loki conjured for him. "This is the coolest thing ever," the teen says loudly over the shouting of onlookers, reporters and photographers.

"You were correct, this seems to be quite the event," Loki agrees through gritted teeth as he tries to ignore the questions the reporters throw at him as he passes.

"Loki, did the Avengers force you to come tonight?" "Loki, is coming to the charity gala part of your probation or was it your idea to come?" "Loki, do you have anything to say to the victims and their families?" "Loki, did you donate any money to the foundation?"

Peter looks around in stunned silence when he and Loki finally pass through the tall double doors. The large hall is bursting with people and activity. Across the two side walls are long bars staffed with dozens of bartenders making complex drink orders for the rich and powerful of New York. Fabric drapes the walls in different colors and shades, creating an ombre effect around the room. At least fifty round and rectangular tables fill the middle of the space, crisp white table cloths cover each one. Place settings have been carefully set at each seat with a small name card indicating who each one is reserved for. At the very back of the hall, is a stage with a cleared space in front of it and Peter knows exactly who that is for.

The teen takes out his phone and begins snapping pictures of the room, no longer able to contain his excitement. Loki looks around the crowded space and is quickly filled with regret for having agreed to come. He can't push down the feeling that every person in the room is either looking at him or talking about him. He shouldn't have come, he thinks as he looks towards the doors.

Peter grins from ear to ear, unaware of Loki's internal struggle. The teenager stands directly in front of Loki and holds up his phone, "Smile."

Loki looks down at him and before he can say anything he is struck by a bright flash of light. "Did you just take a picture of us?" he blinks quickly.

"Yea, a selfie," Peter nods with a laugh.

"Delete that," Loki orders as his phone vibrates. He removes it from his pocket to check the message. "How could you have sent this to the entire team already?" Loki groans as he begins to receive responses from his brother and the other Avengers.

Peter shrugs then see Steve and Bucky through the crowd. They wave for him to join them closer to their assigned table and he gives them a thumbs up in return. He looks happily up at Loki who puts his hands in his suit pockets and says, "I will join you all shortly. I wish to wander for a bit first."

Peter says, "Okay, see you in a bit."

Loki walks past one of the bars but he is not looking for a drink, he is looking for a place to alone before he is stuck at a table with the team for the remainder of the evening. He moves to a far off corner where the fabric that is draped from the walls is darkest. He sighs contently, thinking he has found a secluded place to breathe.

"This hiding spot is taken," you tell the tall, well dressed man as he approaches you, crossing your arms against your chest. The last thing you want before your performance is to deal with anymore boring socialites.

"Oh, my apologies," he says as he notices you and you see the disappointment on the prince's face. "This is quite a large venue, I have no doubt I can find my own hiding spot before we are called to our tables," he smiles politely and turns to leave.

You realize he hadn't been looking for you, he had truly been searching for a place to avoid the crowd of people chattering away. He begins to walk away and without thinking you call after him, "Wait." He turns back towards you. "It's a pretty big hiding spot," you laugh awkwardly, "I think we can share it unless you wanted to be by yourself?"

"I would never turn down the company of a beautiful woman," he smirks.

"I heard you were a charmer, Prince Loki," you can't help but giggle as he stands close to you. "Or do you prefer 'your highness'?"

"Loki is fine, please," he insists with a laugh. "I do feel as if I am at a disadvantage though," he says and you look up at him. "You know my name, but I do not know yours."

You stand silently, stunned by his words. Does he really not know who you are? You have tried not to develop an overly inflated ego but it has been years since you've met someone who hasn't recognized you immediately. When your first single hit the number one spot three years ago, your career took off and you have been in the spot light ever since. You've spent the last year touring dozens of major cities in the United States, Canada and Europe. You are on magazine covers, you have done countless interviews on talk shows, you are even booked to perform in Times Square for New Years Eve in a few months and the God in front of you has no idea who you are.

Loki chuckles at your silence and says, "If you will not tell me your name, I will be forced to continue calling you 'beautiful'."

You blush as you are pulled from thoughts, "That works."

"So what are you hiding from this evening?" he asks as he leans on the fabric draped wall behind him.

You shrug, not wanting to give away who you are just yet. "My boss," you tell him a slight fib, hoping the God of Lies won't notice. You were hiding from your manager and his new assistant. Mark was a good manager, but he insisted you met as many guests tonight as possible before your performance. Their fake smiles and rehearsed complements were tiresome, you slipped away the first chance you could. You wanted to meet real fans, people who actually enjoyed your music, not these stuffy rich people.

Loki nods at your short answer and you ask, "Why are you hiding? I assumed a prince like you must love big parties like this."

He smiles but looks down as he smooths out his suit jacket and you can't help but notice how perfectly it fits him. "I used to enjoy the balls quite a bit on Asgard," he agrees, "But I admit I am having a difficult time with the idea that this event is for the victims of the attack I led last year."

You cover your mouth with your hand. "Oh my god," you say slowly then lower your hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't... I should have realized that."

He shrugs but remains silent.

"I guess it's kinda weird that they invited you in the first place right? Like why would you want to go to a fundraiser for a disaster you caused?" you ask and he nods, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. "I'm sorry," you say again as you realize how uncomfortable you've made him.

"It is alright," he says. "You are not the first person to wonder why I am here tonight and I am sure you will not be the last."

"That's not what I meant," you tell him but you can see his eyes searching for a new place to hide. "How about we talk about something else?" you suggest, not wanting him to leave just yet.

He looks back at you after a moment, seeming a bit more relaxed, "What would you suggest we talk about, beautiful?"

You giggle at the pet name he has decided on, "Umm..." You look around and see the stage. "What do you think about who's going to be performing?"

He looks at the stage as well than back at you and you can see there is still no connection between you and the singer in his mind. "I have heard a great deal of wonderful things about her," he says. "Peter, my..." he pauses as if he is unsure of the next word, "I suppose we are friends but do not tell him I said so."

You laugh but he seems serious, "I promise I won't."

"Peter is a tremendous fan. He listens to her music a great deal," Loki says then he looks down and chuckles. "He is the only reason I am here to be honest. I knew how much he wanted to see Y/N perform so I brought him with me."

"Aww, that's really sweet of you," you smile and he shakes his head but you can see he seems happy with his decision. "Do you like her music too?" you ask, trying to remember the last time you had been able to get a truly honest opinion from someone.

He nods and your heart beats with excitement. "She is quite talented," Loki says. "I seem to have Black Bird stuck in my head quite a bit lately, but that may be because it is Peter's favorite. He plays it on repeat when he is thinking."

"That's a pretty good one," you agree. It was one of your most popular songs and you were set to play it tonight, as you do at every concert. "Do you have a favorite?" you can't help but ask.

"Hmm," he thinks for a moment then he smiles when he decides. "Crystal's Edge," he says.

"That's my favorite too," you reply enthusiastically. It has never been as popular as some of your other songs but it has a deep, personal meaning to you.

"You have good taste," Loki says and you laugh at the irony of his complement.

Your smile fades when you see Mark watching the two of you. "I'm sorry, that's my boss," you point towards him and he folds his arms against his chest as he frowns at you. "I have to go, but I really liked talking to you."

"I enjoyed speaking with you as well," Loki says. He takes your hand and gently places a kiss to the back of it causing you to giggle. "I hope you are able to enjoy the rest of your evening, beautiful, but if not I am more than willing to hide with you again."

Loki pulls out the chair next to Peter and the teen asks, "Where did you go?"

"I was talking to-" Loki begins to explain but before he can continue, the stage lights come on and the overhead lights dim slightly.

"Y/N is starting!" Peter says excitedly and Loki leans back in his chair to watch the performance before the food is served.

You walk out on stage and the guests cheer and applaud, their energy thrills you. TV cameras move into place and you wave to the audience and the cameras with a smile. You take the microphone off the stand and thank everyone for coming to support such a worthy cause. While reciting the speech Mark's assistant prepared for you, your eyes scan the guests until you spot the younger prince of Asgard.

Loki's eyes are fixed on you in shock and when your gaze meets he leans towards the teenager next to him.

"Norns," Loki whispers to himself then he leans towards Peter. "That's her! The woman I was speaking with."

"What?" he looks at Loki then the stage, still clapping as you finish your speech. "You met Y/N!?"

You smile, trying to keep from laughing at the boy's quick double take between Loki and yourself. Looking towards the band hired to play with you got the next few concerts, you nod to signal that you are ready for the first song to start. Moving with the rhythm of the intro, you sing the opening lyrics of one of the first songs you ever wrote. Your heart races as you dance across the stage, singing proudly with your backup singer next to you.

The second song is a crowd favorite and as the music begins you find Loki in the audience again. He smiles, tapping his fingers on the table to the beat and you get an idea. "I would like to dedicate my next song, Black Bird, to a very big fan of mine," you say into the mic and you watch the teen bounce in his seat. "Peter, this one is for you."

Peter laughs excitedly, barely able to contain himself as he signs along with Y/N loudly and out of tune. Loki smiles to himself as he nods his head along with the rhythm of the song.

You perform your next three songs, feeding off the energy of the guests as they sing along with you from their seats. A few move off to the side of the space or between tables to dance in pairs or small groups. You move back to the center of the stage and prepare yourself for your last song of the evening.

You look out into the crowded room and easily find Loki who hasn't taken his eyes off of you for a moment. You turn quickly, walking to the drummer who signals for the other musicians to join you. They nod at your request and you ignore the questioning look your manager gives you as you return to the center of the stage.

"Sorry for that," you apologize to the crowd. "I originally planned on closing my performance this evening with Glass Roses but I've decided to play my personal favorite instead." The intro for Crystal's Edge begins and Loki smiles as he leans forward in his seat. "This song has always held a special place in my heart and tonight I would like to dedicate it to someone I hope to meet again soon."

You slip away from your manager much easier than before and head to your previous hiding spot, hopeful Loki will be waiting for you. You can't help but smile when you see him leaning against the wall, watching you approach him.

"Hello again, beautiful," he says with a smirk.

"Hi Loki," you blush, thankful to hear the pet name again. "Did you like the show?" you ask, feeling nervousness spread through your body.

"Very much," he assures you and you relax instantly. "And I must say, Peter greatly appreciated your song dedication. I'm not sure I've ever seen the boy so happy."

"I'm glad he liked it," you tell him happily. "I was hoping I was right in assuming he was the person you were sitting next to." He nods and you take a step closer to him, out of the view of the guests. He puts his arm around your waist to pull you closer, your body just inches from his.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was," you say as your smile fades slightly and you look down.

"Don't be," he replies, touching your cheek to bring your gaze back to his. "I can imagine you rarely meet someone who is as unaware of your fame as I was. I admit, I feel a bit foolish for not having known who you are."

You shake your head, "I actually really liked that you had no idea who I was, it's been so long since I've met anyone who didn't recognize me. It was fun to talk about my music with someone honest about their opinions."

"I understand," Loki says. "I can see how it would be nice to speak with someone who did not have any preconceived opinions about you."

"Exactly..." you agree then pause. "Oh, I guess you have the same problem... seeing as how I knew who you were."

"At least you are known for being tremendously talented," Loki complements you again and you feel a blush creep up your neck and cheeks. It has been so long since you felt as if someone was giving you genuine compliments and Loki seems to have a never ending supply. His smile falters for a moment and he adds, "I am known for... being the reason we are all here tonight I suppose."

"Loki," you say quietly and touch his cheek but he looks at the ground between you, "You are known for more than that." He shrugs and you can feel him pulling away emotionally even though his arm is still around your waist. "Loki," you say again and he looks at you but you can tell his smile is forced, you have done that yourself many times.

"I apologize," he says and clears his throat. "I think they are enough people here talking about me and the damage I have caused to this city. I would rather learn more about you."

"We can talk about me in a minute," you tell him with an anxious smile. You see a flicker of nervousness cross his face but he hides it quickly. "I'm sorry if I said anything before that upset you," you say and he shakes his head, "I didn't mean anything bad when I said I was surprised you came tonight. I just..."

"We don't need to discuss it," he says and he removes his hand from your waist.

"Please," you put your hand on his arm and move closer to him. "I'm sure there are people here who don't think you should have come... but I'm really glad you did," you say and he smiles slowly. "I can't imagine how hard tonight must be for you but the reason I didn't immediately think of that the first time we talked is because I don't think you are to blame for what happened. Everyone knows about the Mind Stone, although I doubt we know everything, and anyone can see how hard you've been working with the Avengers. When I said I knew who you were, it was because of all the news stories of you saving people over the last year. You're a hero, you know that right?"

He smiles genuinely as his arm wraps around your waist again. "Thank you, beautiful," he says. "You don't know how much it means to hear that."

"You're welcome," you smile then reach up and kiss his cheek to the surprise of both of you. "I- I hope that was okay?"

He smirks and nods, "It was more than okay, although I had thought I would ask to take you on a date before I kissed you."

"You want to ask me out?" you ask, sounding more shocked than you meant to.

"Unless," Loki pauses, concerned by your shock, "I've misjudged something?"

"No, no," you say, shaking your head and you can tell that is not helping his confusion. You laugh, "I'm sorry, I just... it's been a really long time since someone asked me on a date."

Loki looks at you, his eyes searching your expression for an answer to the question he is now unsure to ask again. "I would love to go on a date with you, Loki," you tell him with a smile and he pulls you flush to his chest. He leans down and kisses your lips softly.

He strokes your cheek gently with his thumb and you look up at him, you can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable with someone. You suddenly realize there is something you should warn him about. "Umm..." you mumble and he tilts his head questioningly. "I just want to prepare you for something."

"What's that, beautiful?" he asks, his hand on your lower back begins to move slowly up and down.

"I know your pretty famous," you say and he nods reluctantly, "But... and I'm not saying this to sound full of myself or anything... but when I go out anywhere, I tend to get followed by paparazzi. I'm thinking if we go out together, they'll swarm us."

"Oh..." Loki says as his hand pauses on your back.

"I still want to go out with you," you promise quickly, hoping he doesn't think you are changing your mind. "I just wanted you to know it won't be just us. I don't know if... are you okay with that?"

He smiles, "I would be fine with that so long as I was with you but I think I have a solution to that issue."

It's now your turn to be confused.

He chuckles, "There is a reason there are so few sightings of me outside of missions. I am a trickster god, remember?"

You blink in shock, "I didn't... I guess I didn't really think about it. So do you just make yourself invisible or something?"

He laughs again but shakes his head, "I could but no. I have learned humans become nervous when books and other objects move around them but they cannot see what is causing it."

You giggle, "Okay, it's not weird to be freaked out by that. So how do you go out without people noticing you?"

Loki smiles as his seidr surrounds him briefly with a faint green glow. His long, black curls become lighter and shorter, thin black framed glasses appear on his face and his suit changes from black to blue. He still looks like Loki but if you passed him on the street, you would most likely not have looked twice.

"I can create an illusion for you as well," he offers.

"That's... amazing," you laugh. "You look like a hot college professor."

"Thank you," he chuckles, looking down at his suit as he straightens his blue stripped tie. "I only showed you most of the illusion. To others, my face will also appear different but I was concerned that would be a bit... much?"

You nod, "I'm glad you still look like you, I like your face."

"That is the sweetest thing you have said tonight," he jokes.

You kiss his cheek again and ask, "So I guess I can't call you Loki when you look like this right? It's kind of a unique name."

"Generally, I go by Tom when I wear this illusion," he informs you.

"Tom?" you repeat.

"Too dull?" he asks, sounding unsure of his choice.

"I like it, you look like a Tom," you giggle. "Its nice to meet you Tom, I'm Y/N."

He kisses the top of your head, "I believe I will continue to call you beautiful."

You smile up at him and he slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling your lips gently to his. You grip the fabric on the back of his suit jacket and kiss him deeply. When you finally break the kiss, something catches your eye.

"Shit," you say when you see Mark approaching you and Loki.

He looks towards your manager, then looks down at you and says, "I know the event is not over for a few hours, but how would you feel about our date beginning now?"

"Really?" you ask.

He smirks, "If you would like, I will take you anywhere you want to go."

You reach up and kiss him again then say, "All I want to do is sit in a cafe and get to know you better."

"Done," the God of Mischief smiles as his hand begins to glow, changing your appearance to everyone but other than himself. He keeps his arm around your waist and together you walk right past your very confused manager and out of the party.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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verycoolusername1 · 28 days

Text

So American

Summary: Your boyfriend Nico had made time to see one of your concerts and you made sure to make it one to remember.

Nico Hischier x Singer!reader

Genre: Fluff!!

Warning: Contains romantic themes and mostly my terrible writing.

A/N: I LOVE THIS SONG so so much, and I hope I did Nico justice - this is my first time writing him, so I hope I did well! And I'm sorry for making them pop girlies, it's for the sake of this fic(and I'm extremely sorry for writing them all badly - I'm still learning. Once hockey season starts, I'll try to watch some games(if my attention span allows it))😭

And if you catch my stranger things and Dandelions(song by Ruth B) reference, I thrown in there, then I'll love you a lot.

If there are any grammatical errors, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!!

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You have done performances before. You were on tour, after all. But something was different, your boyfriend Nico was here. And you didn't want to mess up, not even the slightest bit.

You tried to steady your breathing, and that was when the man of the hour appeared right in front of you. He greeted you instantly with a hug and a kiss on your temple, not wanting to anger your manager if he ruined your makeup even a tiny bit.

"Hi baby." He mumbled in your ear. "You look beautiful."

You chuckled in the hug and looked at him. A huge smile was plastered on his face. "Thanks, honey." You smiled. "It's nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Nico laughed. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, Aphrodite could not compare."

"Nico." You dragged his name. "Stop it."

"No way!" Nico shook his head. "Not until you believe it."

"Nico, don't," you warned him. He looked back at you with a not so sorry look. He instantly started ticking your sides, making you laugh. "Babe stop!"

"I'll stop once you believe me." Nico looked at you with a stern look.

You continued to laugh even more before finally giving in to his demands. "Alright, I believe you." You panted. Nico planted his hands at your waist as if by memory.

"You're gonna do amazing." He whispered in your ear.

You smiled softly before asking. "Who else is here?"

"Just Luke, Jack, and Dougie. Everyone else is knocked out." He answered. "Jack wanted to come backstage with me. I told him no."

"And why did you do that, Mr. Hischeir?" You said playfully.

"Well, soon-to-be Y/N Hischeir, I wanted to see my partner before anyone else could." He answered honestly and in a serious tone.

You laid your head in his chest to ignore the giddy feeling you would get whenever he called you 'his partner.' Your stomach was doing flips, and he knew it. Before you could come up with a reply, your manager called your name telling you it was time. You gave Nico a warm smile, one that he had grown to adore as he dropped his hands from your waist.

"I'll see you later." You promised.

"Can't wait." He smiles as he makes his way back to the vip section.

You appeared on stage minutes later with a huge smile on your face. Your fans cheered loudly as they saw you and sang along to all the songs, making you laugh at how good they were. "I swear you guys are better at remembering my lyrics than me." You had joked.

The fans cheered in response, and you took a quick glance at the vip section, something you have been doing all night. When you caught Nico's eyes, he gave you a wave, and you smiled in response. Fans noticed this interaction began to cheer even louder. They haven't seen you this happy in a long time. But that all changed when you met Nico, now all you can ever really do is smile.

"Alright, uh, I know this is sudden, but I wanna try something." You picked up your guitar. "The next song is something that I wrote but never released." Your fans cheered in surprise of about to be hearing an unreleased song. "I like to think I wrote it too soon, and then I just forgot about it." You laughed.

"But tonight there is someone I really wanna dedicate this song to. I mean, I wrote it about you!" Your fans laughed as you shook your head with them.

"But yeah, you're special to me, and I love I have for you will only expand and as one in lyrics 'I see forever in your eyes' and that's completely true. I love you, and I know you know that, but I'll always be telling you that. Sometimes, you're like a poem I wish I wrote. Weird comparison, I know sue me!" You chuckled to yourself and made eye contact with Nico, who mouthed the three words back to you.

"Sorry for rambling. uh, this song is called 'So American', and I hope you like it." You began to play the familiar melody on your guitar and put your mouth near the microphone. "Drivin' on the right side road, he says I'm pretty wearing his clothes."

Your fans erupted with cheer as they realized it was a love song.

"He's like a poem I wish I wrote, I wish I wrote." You looked at Nico, smiling big as you sang your way into the chorus.

The fans cheered even louder, all having smiles on their faces.

"And he laughs at all my jokes, and he says I'm so american," You sang. "Oh, god, it's just not fair to him to make me feel this much."

Nico looked at you like you hung the moon with a huge smile on his face, a smile that he had recently gotten from you. Jack had only noticed a week ago when he said a bad(like really bad) joke, and the two of you held identical smiles while Nico pushed him in annoyance.

"They said they're gonna marry you, dude." Luke pushed Nico's shoulder playfully while Nico's face began to flush.

You began to sing the second verse which Nico didn't like as much. He could never find you annoying or rude, his fellow teammates laughed at his reaction.

"Dude, relax. They're just in love." Jack teased.

"I really love my bed, but man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me." You began to jump up and down. "When he's with me!"

You sang the chorus as Nico looked at you in adoration, and of course, his teammates singing the lyrics terribly wrong but tried their best even if they didn't know the song till a couple of minutes ago.

Dougie sang off key(like very off key). "I have no idea where he goes, and he says I'm so american."

Nico gave him a look, and he immediately shut his mouth. Jack tried to stifle his laugh but failed, Luke joining him as you sang the bridge.

"But ain't it love? Cause I'm in love." You smiled big as you sang the chorus one last time.

The crowd screamed at the top of their lungs as you sung the last bit of the song, you strung on your guitar more than what needed. Before officially ending the song and the concert.

"Thanks, New Jersey. You guys were so loud tonight, I love you all. Good night!" You yelled, the fans cheered and clapped in response.

You ran backstage, and after they took your mic pack off of you. You quickly went to your dressing room and changed into some comfortable clothes, removed your makeup, and undid your hair. Minutes later, there was knock at the door alongside hushed whispers.

"Come in!" You called. The door opened, revealing Nico and the guys. "Hey guys,"

Jack ran to you, shoving Nico aside and giving you a big hug. "You were amazing! Like the dancing, the songs, the puns, and the new song. It was so amazing!" He gushed.

"Thanks, Jack," you hugged him. "Seems like somebody missed me." You looked at Nico with a stern look.

"Of course I did, I was gonna come backstage, but then Nico was all like," Jack cleared his throat before doing the impression. "No, Jack, go back. You'll see them after the show, I get to see them first because I'm their -"

"Alright, I think they get it." Nico cut him off abruptly.

"Somebody's jealous." Dougie snickered.

"You sure it ain't you?" Luke asked.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Dougie looked at him with a questioning glare.

"Isn't it time you died?" Luke retorted. "You already hit 30."

"Alright, you two cut it out." You told them.

"Yeah, guys, cut it out." Jack rolls his eyes.

"Jack." Nico warned.

"Okay, bye, guys! It was nice seeing you Y/N." Jack pushed the two other adults out of the room, despite their protests of only seeing you for five minutes.

"I think we're alone now-" You were cut off by Nico caressing your face and kissing you with the most upmost passion. Nico then pulled you in a hug and held you tight perhaps even tighter than Jack.

"I love you so so much." Nico muttered in your ear.

"I love you too." You broke the hug to look at him.

"The song was so beautiful I mean wow." Nico gushed. "I honestly have no words."

"My eyes must be deceiving me, did I just make new jersey devils captain Nico Hischier speechless?" You taunted.

"Shut up." Nico kissed you again, with even more love than before.

#luke hughes #jack hughes #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #new jersey devils #nh13 #nj devils #Spotify #singer!reader #gender neutral reader #nhl hockey #nhl players #verycoolusername1

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zhaosbin · 5 months

Note

what about fwb with gyuvin?? AND MAYBE HIGHSCHOOL AU!! like everybody thinks that you are just friends but in private it's something else..

ohhh i'm obsessed with this idea...THANK U ANON🫡

just friends — k. gyuvin

summary: to your peers, you and gyuvin were the best of friends...only you and gyuvin knew how far that friendship really went

reader: gyuvin x afab reader

warnings: fwb, dom!gyuvin, sub!reader, sex in a janitors closet lol, MINORS DNI

the dreaded day had finally come...monday. to make this particular monday more bearable, you and your friend hanbin had decided to meet up at a cafe before school started. you both order a small iced coffee and sit down at a booth nearby for a few minutes.

"did you study for mrs. choi's exam yet?" your friend asked you curiously. you quickly snap your head to look at him.

"we had an exam?" you say with an almost terrified look on your face. your friend, being used to ur laziness when it comes to school, simply laughed at you and offered to help you study as he always did.

"maybe if you weren't so busy with gyuvin, you would've known" hanbin says while giggling. you roll your eyes at your friend. everybody knew you and gyuvin were best friends, almost inseparable these days. it didn't stop them from teasing you both about it though.

"i already told you, there's nothing going on between us. we're just best friends"! you semi shout while hitting hanbin with you bag.

of course, you didn't like lying to your best friend. but you couldn't exactly tell him you were fucking one of his closest friends, could you?

—

you walk into your fourth period class exhausted. of course you got stuck with gym first period and had to go the rest of the day sweaty and tired. you take your seat next to your desk mate gunwook and you two casually talk about your days before the teacher comes in and begins the lesson.

unfortunately, the subject being taught right now was math. you couldn't care less about fractions and exponents right now. not when your phone was blowing up with text messages and calls. you knew right away who it was.

from: gyuvin 👹

y/n

y/nnnnn

can you come to the west wing?

please

it's important

answer me

from: y/n🫣

gyuvin i am literally in class

you were surprised when your needy "best friend" didn't immediately answer your message. putting your phone away, you went back to trying to figure out what ur teacher was even teaching.

a few moments later, a rather hard knock on the door snapped you out of your trance. the teacher looked annoyed until he opened the door to see his favorite student. kim gyuvin.

"im sorry sir, may i borrow y/n for a yearbook picture"? gyuvin says with a perfect smile on his perfect face.

you have to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. you cannot believe the nerve of this guy. the teacher, who absolutely ADORES gyuvin, immediately nods and motions at you to gather your stuff.

you both leave the classroom as gyuvin shoots the teacher a wave and another award winning smile. when the door finally shuts, you immediately slap his shoulder.

"are you crazy! what could possibly be this important?" you shout at him in the empty hallway.

gyuvin immediately pulls you to the closest janitors closet. he takes your hand and you look at him confused, until he places it on his very obvious boner.

"im sorry, i just couldn't stop thinking about being inside you again" gyuvin says casually like it's something normal.

you shake your head in disbelief, but you couldn't lie to yourself, just the thought of you making him hard was a huge turn on.

gyuvin could tell you were slipping into your submissive role already, the state he most adored you in. he placed a stray hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

"do you wanna help me out?" gyuvin asked with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. although u could tell he really needed this right now, you know he wouldn't force you into anything you didnt want to do.

instead of responding, you pull him in for a long and heated kiss. what started out slow and innocent turned into gyuvin shoving you against one of the shelves in the closet.

you gasp as your back hits the shelf. while part of you wanted gyuvin to publicly be yours, you couldn't deny how exciting it was having these secret sessions only the two of you knew about.

gyuvin moves from your lips down to your neck, being careful not to leave any noticeable marks there.

growing impatient, you nudge your knee against his crotch as he lets out a deep groan. gyuvin giggles at your lack of control and quickly gives in and lifts up your skirt. yeah, this was definitely his favorite part of the uniforms you guys had to wear.

he moves your panties to the side and immediately feels the wetness between your legs. you let out a sweet whimper, possibly one of gyuvin's favorite sounds in the world.

he slowly rubbed circles around your clit just to get you to relax a bit more. this only continued for a few minutes because he was simply too impatient. he needed to be inside you again.

helping him undo his belt, he quickly gets rid of his pants and throws them somewhere behind him. he then takes out a condom and rolls it onto his length, fingers fumbling due to his speed.

gyuvin gives you another sweet kiss as you feel him finally enter you. he groans at the feeling of your tight walls around his throbbing cock.

knowing the last time he was inside you was only two days ago, he wastes no time in fucking you mercilessly against the shelf.

your latch on to him and rest your forehead on his chest, his strong arms holding you up.

"fuck, you always feel so good around my cock baby" gyuvin pants almost breathlessly.

you moan in return, barely able to speak a sentence due to his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you.

trying to focus on something, you glance down at his hands. those veiny fucking hands.

as of gyuvin could read your mind, he wraps one of them around your throat. you knew it was game over for you.

"gyuvin i-im cumming" you're barely able to spit out before your orgasm shakes ur entire body. knowing you can get loud when you cum, he takes the hand that was around your throat and places it over your mouth.

"hold on baby, im almost done" gyuvin says as he kisses your forehead. he only manages to get a few more thrusts in before he's cumming with a deep moan.

he pumps into you a few more times before finally pulling out and helping you to stand. when you guys make eye contact again, you both let out a laugh. you couldn't believe this was your life.

after you both clean up the best you can, you exit the janitors closet together. when you step outside, you see hanbin standing on the other side of the hallway, a look of disbelief but also humor on his face.

"I KNEW IT!" he shouts loud enough for anyone passing by to hear. you and gyuvin look at each other and he grabs your hand.

"let's just make it official" he says with a look of adoration on his face.

#zb1 x reader #zb1 smut #zb1 imagines #gyuvin smut #gyuvin x reader #gyuvin imagines

354 notes · View notes

neptuneiris · 9 months

Text

Behind the Scenes (04/05)

Behind the Acceptance

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: there are new changes for you and Aemond, he wants to rectify himself for past mistakes and you get used to your new life with the father of your son present.

word counter: 10.2K (consider it as a christmas gift, love you all❤)

previous part • next part • series masterlist

I'M SO SORRY!

i know the wait has been too much and you don't know how sorry i am. i experienced stress during my last week of uni before leaving for vacation and i got a new job, which consumes my time and i couldn't edit or do any writing, but i managed to find small times to write and that's why it's taken me so long. i appreciate your understanding, really🥺

I would like to wish you all merry christmas and a happy new year, my best wishes to all of you and also to your families, have a great time and God bless you all beautiful people, you are amazing and truly thank you for so much🥰

now yes, enjoy!

warnings: aemond dad melting our hearts and that's it:)

When Aemond told you to please go back to work and stop running away so that the two of you could face all this together, you didn't quite understand what he meant by 'go back to work'.

However, the next morning after waking up and starting to prepare breakfast for Aenar, you received an unexpected call that answered your question.

It's an unknown number so you accept the call with some caution.

"Y/N speaking? This is Michelle Watson, from the Warner Bros studio production department," she says and your heart jumps.

"Hello?"

You speak on the other end of the line, holding your phone to your ear.

It's HBO, who Aemond is working with right now and where you left your job thrown after unexpectedly meeting him again.

Nerves soon set in and you hold your breath, already feeling ashamed for leaving the shooting set like that without saying anything to anyone and creating a complete circus the moment Aemond called your name in the trailer in front of everyone.

"Yes, she speaks," you reply nervously.

"We want to inform you that despite what has happened, we understand it and the circumstances that led you to leave unexpectedly during your working hours," she tells you in a soft and formal voice, "And we will expect you tomorrow without any problem to resume work."

You frown completely, hesitate a little and blink several times in disbelief, not quite understanding.

"I'm sorry… what do you mean by resuming work?" you ask, barely able to contain your own surprise and disbelief.

"Some conversations took place," she explains, "Mr. Targaryen was quite insistent on convincing the production team to reconsider your situation. He advocated on your behalf, explained the circumstances and your entire track record as an excellent professional makeup artist so that you could continue to work with us."

With your lips parted and your eyes wide open, you are speechless for a moment, staring at a spot in your living room with your heart pounding, definitely not expecting to hear any of this after everything that has happened on this day.

You didn't even expect Aemond to decide to do this for you after everything that happened with him and Criston.

And just when you were starting to worry about how you were going to pay the rent for this apartment and even started to make a schedule in your mind to go get a job somewhere else tomorrow or even today.

"So if there's no problem and everything is fine with you, we'll expect you tomorrow at 7:00 A.M."

Completely speechless.

You can't even control your own heart rate.

But in spite of that, you can't help but feel a huge relief run through your entire body, where you still feel overwhelmed by the generosity and gesture of trust they are offering you, but you definitely feel completely relieved and grateful.

"Yes, yes, of course," you hasten to say, trying to control your emotions, "I'll be there. Thank you so much."

They give you a few more details, you ask few more questions and finally end the call, which leaves you with mixed emotions as you silently contemplate that you still have this new possibility of a better life for you and Aenar.

But you also think about Aemond.

And you will also wait to see how Aemond's integration into your son's little life will be now.

You really appreciate this gesture, you know that only he can do something like this with his influence and connections.

And in fact it gives you the confidence that he will keep his word that no one else will interfere in your and Aenar's life, only the two of you will make the decisions.

Arriving at the recording set, you leave Aenar in the nursery and then you enter the corridors of the whole big production, which is buzzing with its usual atmosphere with its twinkling lights, technical equipment with the huge cameras, microphones and all the sets ready.

You honestly feel nervous knowing that tomorrow you and Aemond will be working in the same place again, like in the old days.

But that's why you try to be as prepared as possible and you won't let all kinds of personal matters interfere with your work.

And once you arrive, you take a moment, take a deep breath and push open the door, where that familiar atmosphere once again envelops you.

You don't even know why but your heart is pounding as you walk down the halls and every step leads you to your area, the makeup and wardrobe trailer.

You assume it's out of shame after what happened yesterday.

Unfortunately your entrance doesn't go unnoticed and as you close the door behind you as you walk just a little into the trailer, some curious faces turn to see you, including Jess, who stops her usual routine and rushes over to you, her eyes wide with surprise.

You hug her back gently, feeling relieved and less tense by the warm welcome from Jess who, even though the two of you don't know each other very well, she actually seems like a very nice person and her personality shows you that.

"Ah Y/N, what a relief to see you again!"

She exclaims with her tone full of joy.

"God, I thought you wouldn't come back," she says as she hugs you excitedly, providing you with some comfort.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," you say with a regretful gesture and you both break the hug, "I shouldn't have left like that and you don't know how embarrassed I feel. I'm really sorry."

"Oh no, don't worry about it," she assures you instantly, making a nonchalant gesture, "That's all in the past. The important thing is that you're back and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," she comforts you with a small smile, "We have a lot of work to do today and we need to get you up to speed right away."

Jess, full of energy, ushers you further into the trailer while you greet your other co-workers. Then she explains the day's itinerary precisely, pointing out schedules, wardrobe changes and other important details.

All the while you nod, thanking her for her guidance and trying to keep up. In the midst of all the preparations, the huge door opens again and Aemond is now the one who makes his presence known.

Your gaze meets his and you see the obvious and unexpected surprise in his eyes at seeing you again, but there's not much reaction from either of you as instantly the makeup artists call him over and guide him to start prepping him for today's filming scenes.

And Jess also takes your arm, guiding you to the back of the trailer where the dressing rooms are located explaining what you will be doing, forcing you to look away from him.

And you can only feel Aemond's gaze on you until he loses sight of you.

Jess continues to explain to you, but you can't help but think and wonder certain things, like if everyone here, even Jess, knows about you and Aemond... what you once were and that you have a child together.

The behavior of both of you yesterday was very obvious, that's what you would think if you were an expectant one, so surely there must be some speculation.

And at that moment you remind yourself that your priority right now is your work and that the personal should be kept out of your work environment, so you shouldn't even think about it.

Finally you focus on following Jess's directions, putting aside distractions and preparing for the day.

Jess leaves you alone to take care of her own work and you start with yours, where you spend about an hour still in the back of the trailer, where you check and prepare the costumes that already have to be ready for the scenes that will be filmed soon.

When in the middle of everything, you hear some footsteps approaching behind you and thinking it must be one of the other actors or one of your co-workers, you turn around and the first thing you notice is that silver hair.

Aemond enters this section of the trailer a little unsure, without saying anything, while you also watch him without saying anything.

He is ready to record his scenes with that scar on the left side of his face that his character has and he only lacks the costume.

Until finally he speaks first.

You knew that having a conversation with him again would happen soon, so you're not surprised.

But for a moment there is a tense silence and a slight nervousness and insecurity on the part of both of them, where a clash of emotions is reflected in each other's gazes.

"Hey," he says in a soft, low voice, taking a couple of steps towards you.

You try to smile a little in his direction, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.

"Hey," you wave back.

There is an awkward pause before Aemond again takes the initiative, taking a few cautious and slow steps towards you.

You bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment, as he puts a hand to the back of his neck and looks so insecure and nervous standing there, surprising you a bit, as that behavior in him is unusual.

He usually always has that confident attitude in everything he says and does.

"I'm glad you're back," he admits to you, his low tone full of sincerity, "It's good to see you around again."

His words and that friendly gesture take you a bit by surprise, and although you still feel overwhelmed by the unexpected situation, you appreciate the way he is leading in handling all of this to start working together for Aenar's well-being, leaving past tensions behind.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling that sense of relief in your chest again, "Oh, hum… and thank you for talking to production so I could come back," you say a little shyly but gratefully, "You didn't have to."

He lets out a scoff in a nonchalant and also absurd gesture, frowning slightly his nose and forehead.

"Please, it was the least I could do," he tells you softly and with a warm tone, "Besides, it was nothing. I was just afraid you'd decide not to come back."

You hum in understanding.

"I thought about that," you confess to him, lowering your gaze for a moment, "But things were going to be easier for both of us with Aenar if I came back here," you explain, "Still, it was a very kind gesture of you."

Aemond nods, his gaze conveying a mixture of emotions that reflect both relief to see you back here, understanding, and also regret for the past that still haunts him. But he doesn't let those thoughts invade him too much at that moment.

Again there is silence in between for a few seconds, when he speaks again.

"How is Aenar?" he asks in a voice charged with a mixture of happiness, nostalgia and longing for his son.

"He's fine," you say in a soft voice, "He's in the studio nursery. Mary takes very good care of him," you add, wanting to reassure him that his son is being properly cared for.

He nods slowly, humming in response, trying to hide the intensity of his emotions in his gaze.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, vulnerability in his tone and gaze.

The air between the two of you still lingers, charged with emotions that neither of you dares to express openly. However, taking advantage of the conversation, Aemond decides to propose something.

He just met him yesterday and can't wait to see him again, to be in his company.

Yesterday's hours were simply not enough. And knowing that his son is well brings him relief and a feeling he hasn't experienced before since he found out he is a father.

"If you want, I can pay for a trusted babysitter for him," he offers and this gets your full attention, "I'm just saying… so you don't always have to bring him with you to work," he says with a hesitation, his tone betraying his insecurity about his proposal.

You remain silent for a moment, not knowing what exactly to say, in fact processing the unexpected offer. And Aemond can't help but feel even more unnerved by your silence.

"I-I… I don't know," you murmur, hesitant.

This nursery in the set is at least in the same place as you and that gives you relief that whatever happens, you can rush to him right away.

The idea of a babysitter strikes you as a mixture of relief and concern.

In the morning you'd have more time getting ready to come to work and it wouldn't be as much of a burden on you, yet you've never left someone to take care of Aenar while you're away.

But leaving him at home and coming all the way here to work, that causes you hesitation, besides the fact that you have to know the person who will take care of your child perfectly, as well as have confidence in her, above all.

"Only if that makes you feel more comfortable," Aemond adds softly, "But if that's not what you want, that's fine."

You bite your lips, feeling uneasy at the thought of someone else caring for your son and having him away when you're working.

"And you know someone who might be trustworthy?" you ask attentively and still with hesitation in your gaze.

"Yes," he tells you immediately, softly, "Rhaenyra has an army of babysitters to take care of my younger nephews. I can ask her for help with that and I know she'll say yes," he assures you.

"And they are professional babysitters?"

"Yeah, yeah, Nyra is also very careful with the selection and the babysitters she has hired have years of experience and so far several of them have worked with her for a few years now."

And after a moment's reflection, you agree.

And as convincing as the information is, still a mixture of worry and resignation envelopes your body.

But you knew that sooner or later you would have to face the situation of balancing your job with the responsibility of caring for your little one, accepting the idea that you won't always be able to have him with you.

"All right," you nod to him, "But I'd like to do some interviews first."

"Yeah, of course. I'll take care of that, don't worry," he says softly, nodding to you and you nod back.

"Thank you, Aemond."

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N, it's for our son. And if he or you need anything, please just let me know."

Seeing Aemond so willing to be a present father and his desire to be involved in his son's life, to some extent relieves you and surprises you a little, clearly because of what happened at first when you found out you were pregnant.

But so far… he has really shown you that he wants to be present and without having Criston and all his team around anymore.

The slight tension in the air is felt again as you and he continue to navigate the terrain of this new dynamic, which feels a little weird and you feel very nervous, though you don't even know why, while he at all times seems unsure.

And in an attempt to diffuse the tension, now you're the one who speaks first.

"Okay," you nod, "And if you…" you try to say a little nervously and with some caution and insecurity, "If you want to go see Aenar at the nursery or even at the apartment, you can," you assure him with a soft tone, "I never said you couldn't visit him and I don't plan to take that right away from you."

Vulnerability is reflected both in your words and in Aemond's expression, who with his soft face and with his gaze full of various emotions, places a small gentle smile on his lips.

"I'd love that."

Your words mean more to him than you probably realize. That sincere gesture of openness on your part, Aemond deeply appreciates.

Just as he appreciates that the conversation has reached a level of understanding and cooperation that neither of you had anticipated, but that you definitely appreciate. It doesn't end there yet, though.

"Can I ask you something?"

You nod, with no problem.

"Sure."

"What will you be leaving work on when your shift is over with Aenar?" he tells you interested and attentive.

"Um… well, yesterday I took the bus," you explain, considering that just yesterday was supposedly your first day, "And I had already planned that if I finished late, I'd take an Uber. Like now in the morning I was running a little late and took an Uber," you reply, trying to explain your transportation routine.

In fact there is nothing wrong with moving this way, many people do it, besides you don't have many options.

But that's what Aemond doesn't want, he wants to make your life a little easier, especially since Aenar lives with you and he doesn't want to risk something bad happening to both of you one day with public transport.

"Well, if you want, I can take the two of you," he also offers without hesitation, "Or if it seems too much, I can ask my driver to pick you up and take you wherever you need to go, without problem," he assures you, "I just don't want you to move that way with Aenar or by yourself."

This new unexpected offer from Aemond also surprises you, that you even think about turning him down, telling him it's not necessary.

Mostly you see it from Aenar's safety side.

But his concern is genuine and also you know that then moving you will start to be a problem.

You know you can't afford Uber every day, the fares aren't exactly cheap and there are other needs you have to take care of, besides taking the bus late could be dangerous.

"Well…" you look at him hesitantly and a little embarrassed, "You won't have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," he answers you instantly.

You nod in his direction, grateful for his consideration.

"Yes, it's fine and seriously thank you for this too," you can't help but say, "Sometimes transport is complicated."

"Don't worry, it's fine."

He is about to say something else when a third voice interrupts him, entering the same space as you.

"Yeah, I know, sorry, I'm already on it," he assures her instantly.

"Aemond, are you ready now?"

Enters one of your co-workers, watching him intently and instantly with concern at the sight of him still in his civilian clothes.

"For God's sake, why aren't you dressed yet? Your scene is going to shoot in less than fifteen minutes!"

"I'll be back in ten minutes. Hurry up, please," the worried girl says and hurries away.

You instantly at that moment decide that the two of you can talk later and hand him his clothes from the scene he'll be shooting soon and he thanks you, heading for one of the small dressing rooms quickly.

When he finishes putting on his clothes, you quickly help him look perfect for filming the scene.

"I'll be seeing you," he tells you before leaving and you nod.

"Sure."

And from that moment on, over the next few days, everything changes as much for Aemond as it does for you.

He kept his word to drive you and Aenar back home every time your shift ended. And if he was still filming scenes, he would send his driver to take you instead of him, also to bring you in the mornings.

The relationship is cordial and collaborative and while there is no romantic reconciliation involved, there is a determination to build a more stable and secure future for Aenar, as well as prioritizing his well-being above all else.

At work, too, the dynamic between the two of you changes completely. Communication is professional, as it should be, but in every interaction there is a complicity that seems to have evolved.

There is a quiet understanding, a new focus on cooperation and mutual respect that is taking shape.

Also Aemond kept his word to hire a fully trusted babysitter and while he took care of that, sometimes you found him in the nursery with Aenar, keeping him company and playing with him.

At first this caused you some noise and also confusion, since Aemond is under the public eye spending quality time with his son and doesn't bother to hide it, so you wondered if already everyone working here, also Aemond's co-workers, knows that he has a son with you.

Again that sight couldn't help but make you smile with a certain nostalgic look, watching the interaction of those two silver-haired heads in their own world.

But it made you feel happy to see your little boy laughing and playing with his father.

And if so, you doubt that it will come out soon, because working in this production of whatever position, there is a confidentiality contract for everything, even for the personal life of the actors.

But when the shooting of this show is over, everyone is probably going to know about it. Although it seems that Aemond doesn't even think about it and doesn't really care.

So you decide not to ask him anything about it and how Criston and his whole team is going to take it.

You honestly don't know what Aemond has done with him, what they have talked about and what exactly happened for him to leave you and Aenar alone.

And you don't want to know. You've had enough of him and everything he did to you. And fortunately you live in peace and feel safe to have Aemond on your side this time.

And before you can say anything, Aemond steps forward with a soft little smile.

When one day on your day off you find yourself making dinner while Aenar watches his favorite cartoon in the living room and you supervise him occasionally from where you are, there's a knock at the door.

You're traumatized with the thought that maybe it's Criston and something bad is going to happen, but when you open the door you find Aemond with a woman by his side.

"Hey."

"Hi," you try to smile, a little confused.

"Are you busy? I-I didn't know and thought I'd just come over," he says, "And I'd let you know but I don't have your number or-or something."

"No, no, it's fine, I'm just making dinner," you hasten to say.

"I came because I wanted to introduce you to Elinda Massey," he tells you, pointing to the woman next to him and she looks at you with a warm smile, "One of the babysitters Rhaenyra recommended to me to take care of Aenar."

"Oh," you nod, now understanding.

You watch Elinda and she radiates warmth and assurance in her gaze, instantly feeling comfortable with her presence.

"It's nice to meet you, Elinda," you say with a small smile, extending your hand to her.

"Same to you, Y/N," she replies, shaking his hand with yours, "Aemond has told me so much about you and Aenar. I'm very excited to meet him as well."

Aemond beside her nods, his expression calm.

"Elinda is professional and very experienced. I wanted to introduce you to her and thought maybe we could do a little interview together, just to get to know her and see how she gets along with Aenar."

You instantly nod again.

"Oh yeah, yeah, sure, come on in," you step aside, allowing them to pass, "Aenar is watching his favorite cartoon," you say as you close the door behind you.

Aemond instantly walks towards him, making a sound of surprise, catching his attention and Aenar instantly notices him, smiling big at the sight of him, his huge blue eyes lighting up and reaching out his little arms towards him.

Both you and Aemond know Elinda better and you realize that she is a woman who has all the necessary experience and training. Besides the fact that when she approaches Aenar, he instantly laughs and plays with her.

Aemond laughs and takes him in his arms, starting to leave a bunch of kisses on his huge chubby cheeks, making him laugh as he holds him against his chest and speaks to him in a honeyed tone.

And you again can't help but smile as you watch the scene.

There is still that feeling of worry in you knowing that you will have to leave Aenar in someone else's care.

But Elinda shows you so much in so few hours, she tells you about her experience, shows you letters of recommendation, first aid certificates, as well as other care and Aenar has fun with her.

Aemond stays a few more moments in Aenar's company, playing games and watching the cartoons he likes, while you finish dinner and cleaning the kitchen.

The three of you establish a work schedule for her, as well as you tell her some recommendations and observations regarding Aenar.

And once everything is ready and clarified, she leaves and Aemond tells you that he has already taken care of all the payment details with her.

Every now and then you hear how Aemond asks him questions in a honeyed tone and repeats the same expressions he does when he sees his favorite character on TV, and then both start laughing.

Those sounds, the sound of your son's laughter and also Aemond's expressions, unconsciously make you smile and you watch from the kitchen as Aemond makes funny gestures or faces to make him laugh and attacks him with a lot of kisses all over his face or tickles.

Then you walk him to the door once he is ready to leave.

And there the two of them make themselves comfortable on the couch, eventually Aenar falls asleep on Aemond's lap, his back and head against his chest. He cautiously gets up holding him gently and puts him to sleep, while you thank him.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," he says stopping in front of the door and turns to you, "This is for you."

You see him take his wallet from his back pocket and inside it, he pulls out what appears to be a black card and holds it out to you. This catches your attention and also confuses you, taking the card with that confusion, not understanding.

And only when you take a good look at it in your hands do you realize that it is a bank card.

"It's yours."

He says and you frown more, then raise your gaze to him asking for an explanation.

"I can only send money to it, I don't have direct access. You'll get the PIN from the bank, tomorrow after the shoot, I'll take you to activate it," he tells you, "You know, it's in case you need money to buy something for Aenar or for you, whatever you need."

Then when you fully understand the explanation and the purpose of this, you start to panic.

"Aemond—

You try to say feeling the lump in your throat and your heart starting to pound.

"I know I didn't tell you about this, but please, I want to do it," he interrupts you with a pleading tone so you won't reject him or reproach him about it, "Besides, this is necessary. Sometimes I will have to travel to other cities for shootings or events and I won't be able to see you or him and I want to make sure you don't lack anything. So just accept it, please."

"But—

"Please," he insists.

This really seems too much to you and you have an idea of the amount of money the card must already have. And no… in spite of everything, you don't want to accept this and feel that you are taking advantage of him.

You watch him still with hesitation and worry on your face, tension hanging in the air as you and he stand in complete silence, saying nothing for a few seconds.

You look back down at the card in your hands and Aemond follows your gaze, both of you standing face to face.

And it just seems that Aemond reads your thoughts by the hesitation and insecurity on your face.

"If you don't want to use it to also buy things for yourself, use it just to buy Aenar whatever he needs," he tells you softly, "After all, I was going to do this sooner or later, wasn't I? It's my responsibility to make sure he doesn't lack anything and that's what I'm going to do."

You let out a long breath, beginning to feel less of the weight of the luxurious and clearly exclusive black card in your hands, with his words beginning to soften your chest at the mention of Aenar.

"Fine," you mutter finally, letting out a sigh and raising your gaze to him, "B-but I'll only use it for things that Ae-

This gesture from Aemond is a clear sign of concern and responsibility he feels towards you and his son. And you truly feel that genuine desire that he wants to contribute for the welfare of both of you.

You try to clarify but he quickly speaks up.

"Yeah, okay," he nods at you, "Don't worry. Just… use it."

You nod again.

"Thank you, Aemond."

A slight flicker of concern appears in his gaze and he quickly tries to be able to struggle to find the right words to be able to explain himself so you don't misunderstand him.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to—

"No, no, I don't think so," you tell him softly, with understanding, "This…" you look back down at the card in your hands and let out a sigh, "This is actually necessary and very helpful…. you really don't know how much I appreciated it."

He nods, his expression relieving a bit as he sees your behavior and also as you accept his support.

"Easy, it's okay," he assures you in a soft murmur.

"Also…" he starts to say with some nervousness but definitely more confident, "I wanted to ask you if you have social security for Aenar and you," he says with a serene expression, looking directly at you.

Again silence settles between the two of you but the air is different, calmer and less tense, feeling the mutual understanding.

And Aemond, after the two of you say nothing for another long few seconds, thinks it best to talk at this point about another plan he has in mind.

This also immediately catches your attention and you watch him warily, tilting your head to one side and starting to get an incredulous look on your face.

"You're not seriously thinking that—

"Y/N, please," he interrupts you, "This is no problem for me, really," he insists, "I just need to know."

"But—

"This is also important and I can pay for it."

"But it's a lot of money and I don't think—

"Do you really think I'll let you and Aenar go through life without being covered?" he asks you incredulously, "I can handle this. I really can."

His words continue to reflect that genuine commitment and you, despite your concern, feel something warm invade your chest, especially the gentle and willing way he is looking at you.

After all that has happened, seeing Aemond so determined to contribute to your son's well-being gives you a new hope and opportunity for Aenar's future.

The costs are too much, nothing you could really afford, not even for Aenar, since your salary was not much and had to cover other needs. You couldn't even afford it on your current salary.

You have always worked very hard to try to give Aenar everything he needs. Among them, paying for a social insurance for him, in case of anything.

But you could never afford it.

And that suddenly Aemond is offering it to you so easily, clearly because he can afford it, you feel somewhat overwhelmed and also feel that it is too much.

"And you're completely—

"Yes, I am," he interrupts you again, being very clear and honest with you, "This won't be any trouble, really," he assures you.

You want to tell him thank you, but the words get stuck in your throat. However, Aemond sees the gratitude is visible in your gaze, along with your concern and how you find yourself overthinking it.

So he just gives you a look of understanding and total reassurance.

"I'll be leaving. You need to rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

You let out a long breath, bite your lips and nod in his direction.

"Okay."

"Good night," he says softly as he opens the apartment door again.

"Good night. Drive safe."

Lately the days have been more… peaceful.

But as the days progressed, you realized that it was useless to feel that way because when you returned to the apartment, everything was absolutely fine. And also everything is easier when you transport yourself with Aemond's help or with the help of his driver.

Having Elinda as a babysitter, your mornings are easier and she does an excellent job with Aenar, so you have nothing to worry about.

At first you would leave home feeling horrible and your whole body tense, always alert to your phone and exaggeratedly paranoid.

Aemond also one day told you the same thing, that lately things have been quiet, even the recordings have not been heavy for him compared to other days or other jobs.

And for the same reason that he is busy filming, he hasn't attended any events or interviews, that happens rather after he finishes filming a new show or movie and there is still time left for that.

Aemond drives in silence and the soft background music on low volume fills the entire interior of the car while you watch the city through the windows and Aenar sleeps secured in one of the back seats.

So on this one day and for one occasion only, Elinda had an important commitment that she couldn't postpone, so she didn't show up for work and you didn't have any problem, since you can bring Aenar to the nursery on the set.

And now it is Aemond who is driving them home after your shift ended almost at the same time he finished filming his scenes.

He and you haven't talked much during the whole drive, only about work, but even so the silence is comfortable and you can't wait to get home to cook a nice dinner.

The cityscape soon transforms into familiar and somewhat… careless streets, as you approach to your apartment.

He parks in front of your building and watches you.

You know this isn't a luxurious area and there's a lot of detail to look at, but it's what you can afford right now.

And that's just what Aemond thinks as he looks around the neighborhood, hating to leave you and Aenar here when he can get you a much better place. But he knows you'll say no.

"Will you stay here any longer?" he asks you softly, "I mean, will you continue to pay rent?"

"For now yes," you nod to him, "I'm saving up to move to a better place, to an apartment in a different area and that's close to work," you let him know, "It's just taking time because of my paycheck."

Aemond stares at you intently for a moment, thinking and pondering your words, with a thoughtful look on his face, while you make sure you have all your belongings with you before getting out of the car and carrying Aenar.

And just as he is about to speak, a familiar sound interrupts him and his son's crying is heard throughout the car.

You follow him too with all your things in hand, walking over to both of them.

You quickly turn to him to attend to him, trying to calm him down, while Aemond reacts and quickly gets out of the car to open the door to the back seats.

It takes him a little while to unfasten the seat belts, but once he's finished he takes him in his arms and whispers comforting words in his ear to make him stop crying.

"Shh, my little one," Aemond whispers, holding him against his chest and stroking his silver hair, "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he murmurs, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead.

You move to his side and run one of your hands over his wet cheeks, watching you for a moment with teary blue eyes only to close them tightly and continue crying.

"Either he wants to sleep in his room or he's hungry," you say, stroking his face to try to calm him as well.

"He didn't eat?" he asks you attentively.

"Yes, Mary said yes."

"Then he wants to sleep," he says, trying to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, "Come on upstairs, I'll take him," he tells you and you nod.

All the while Aemond tries to comfort him until they reach the door of your apartment, but when he lays him down in his crib, Aenar cries more and he carefully holds him in his arms again, trying to soothe him while you quickly stop in the kitchen and prepare a baby bottle, hoping it will help.

And when you hand it to Aemond, he stands gently pacing around the room holding Aenar with one arm while the other hand holds the baby ottle for him against his mouth, hoping it will soothe him and he will fall asleep.

You take the bottle and Aemond carefully lays him down to sleep in his crib, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead to finally let him rest.

Aenar eventually calms down as he drinks from the baby bottle and watches with his blue eyes Aemond above him, who is still gently walking him around the room.

And little by little, wrapped in the safety of Aemond's arms, he falls asleep.

He sits up and turns to you, where you both look at each other without saying anything for a moment, sharing a silent connection.

"Thank you," you whisper to him.

"Don't worry," he says back to you in the same way.

Together you leave Aenar's room without a sound and gently close the door.

That night Aemond drives to his apartment with a new thought in mind, one of which is to always provide a better life for you and Aenar.

That's why, without telling you anything and taking advantage of the fact that it's your day off, he manages to leave the recording set early, he tells you to accompany him to the mall to buy new clothes for Aenar and you accept without thinking about anything else.

During the ride, so far you haven't questioned him about anything and that relieves him, but when you finally pay attention to the streets he is driving through, that's when your confusion appears and Aemond is thankful that you are about to arrive at the real place he wants to take you.

"I don't think there's a shopping mall around here, Aemond," you tell him confused, watching the streets carefully.

You realize that he is actually driving through a private residential neighborhood, with the streets lined with luxurious homes or rather mansions that would catch anyone's attention and you are clearly no exception.

And remembering your locations, you can tell that this neighborhood belongs to the Visenya Hill area, the most exclusive and prestigious area of King's Landing.

"Aemond, where are we going?" you look at him completely confused and questioning.

"I want to show you something," he tells you without giving you any more detail, generating more confusion and despair in you.

"But you said we were going to the mall."

"I know, but I lied to you," he says with some regret and you frown, "If I told you I wanted to show you a house where you can live with Aenar, you wouldn't have come."

"What?"

You inquire in your completely incredulous, serious and questioning voice, watching him with your eyes wide open.

"Surely you're joking," you tell him absurdly, shaking in his direction and watching him completely intently and seriously, really wanting to believe this is a joke.

"No, I'm not," he says letting out a small laugh, watching you for a moment to turn his gaze back to the road.

"Aemond," you start trying to warn him, serious.

"We're here," he announces out of nowhere, alerting you more fully.

You watch with your lips parted and completely attentive at all the windows, as the car comes to a stop in front of an impressive house, whose high ceilings and elegant white columns stand out in the neighborhood.

The front garden with the green lawn, a beautiful fountain and flowering bushes only make it stand out more, besides the elegant entrance, its huge windows and the dimension of the whole house that makes you continue to stare at everything with your mouth open.

In comparison, Aemond looks at the house with a hopeful expression and feeling genuinely happy and excited. But at the same time, he is worried about your attitude and what you will tell him about all this.

At first you refuse to get out of the car, still incredulous and surprised, telling him this is crazy, but Aemond makes you get out and also gets Aenar down from the back seats, instantly on this rare occasion preferring your arms instead of his father's.

"Aemond," you try to say, worried and still unable to believe it.

"Easy. Come," he tells you completely unconcerned, leading you to the entrance of the house.

You observe everything, unable to help yourself, as there is even furniture and everything looks too expensive but too beautiful at the same time.

You watch as he holds the fucking key in his hand and opens the beautiful, gigantic door for you, without giving you a chance to say anything else.

And as you enter, the entire interior of the house spreads out in front of you, illuminated by the daylight filtering through the windows and highlighting every majestic detail of the property.

The simple entrance is large with a crystal chandelier above you hanging from the high ceiling, the living room is spacious and there is also a small decorative fountain. Further on there is another living room that you can observe from the spacious and eye-catching kitchen.

And the entire upstairs also completely grabs your attention, having three huge bedrooms, the master bedroom being the largest of them all, each with its own bathroom and closet.

The bathroom down here is ridiculously large for a bathroom. The pantry is also a ridiculously large room for a pantry.

The garden is lovely and has a swimming pool which, according to Aemond, can be automatically closed off for Aenar's security. There is a laundry and drying room as well.

"It's perfect, don't you think?"

Aemond tells you slightly excited as you walk down the stairs behind him, with Aenar in your arms and who also looks at everything around him with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Work is nearby, my apartment is nearby and Elinda has come to this area to work before, so it won't be a problem," he tells you with that little smile, turning to you, looking with that gleam of hope compared to you.

He clearly expects the same reaction from you and even having already seen the house, you let out a sigh and look at him with a serious and confused expression.

"Aemond, what do you think you're doing?"

"Well, it's for you," he tells you, pointing to everything around him, still not seeing how much this is costing you, "It's perfect for you and Aenar. And a chance for him to live and grow up in a nice, spacious, safe place."

You are speechless for a moment, feeling that heaviness in your chest and your heart pounding as you press your lips together and briefly observe everything around you again.

"Everything will be taken care of by me, you won't have to worry about anything," he assures you softly, "Aenar's room is big, the kitchen is big, there are two living rooms and..." he shrugs, "Like I told you, everything is close by."

"Tell me you haven't already bought all this," you say slightly concerned.

And then all emotion from Aemond slowly fades.

"But why? What is it that—

"Aemond, this is too much," you interrupt him incredulously, shock in your eyes, "How do you think I'm just going to accept this just like that?"

He steps closer, with the slight concern in his gaze, trying to convey calm, but his eye reflects the urgency of his purpose.

"Y/N, please. I only want what's best for you and Aenar. Besides, you said you're moving soon and—

"Yes but to an apartment, not a house that costs millions of dollars," you tell him absurdly.

"Yes, I know, but—" he bites his lips, nervous, "I wanted to do this. I wanted to give this to you and Aenar," he says insistent, "A safe place in a quiet neighborhood, where you can also have your space without having to worry anymore."

You shake your head.

"But—

"Look, just..." he tries to find the right words, trying to work on your willing attitude for not accepting this, "Consider it, yes?" he insist, "You don't have to make a decision right now, for now I just wanted to show you around, nothing more," he says calmly, though you know that behind that calmness is an obvious longing.

"But it's just that this is too much and... no," you look at him with slight concern, "I don't need to consider it because no matter how much I think about it, my answer is no."

"Aemond, this..." you begin to say with restrained sadness, hesitating, "This won't change the past. This won't make it so I can forgive you," you tell him resignedly, "This isn't about me and Aenar, it's about Aenar nothing else and her well being," you tell him in a broken voice, "But this... this house... it's too much."

"Y/N..." he says, taking a couple more steps towards you, wary, "Two years ago, I was the worst shitty boyfriend," he says with sadness and regret, "I had to support you, be there for you completely, I shouldn't have let Criston talk me into his plans, accept in the beginning to hide you and hide my responsibility."

He says as he looks nostalgic at Aenar in your arms.

"And now that you've given me this second chance, I just want to make things right....I want to do what I should have done in the beginning."

Aemond's expression, although he himself tries to remain expressionless, still feels as if he has been hit hard in the stomach when he hears your words.

And all illusion disappears, as well as his enthusiasm.

He resignedly steps back, leaving a space between you and him, not wanting to overwhelm you any more than he already has.

He thought this would be a good idea, that by the time the three of you were here, looking forward to the idea of a new home, you would understand and accept.

But there are still many open wounds from the past and he knows they cannot be healed with these sudden gestures.

"I know, it's just that I-I..." he tries to say with his voice laden with regret and deep remorse," I didn't expect this... a house or an apology to just fix things," he says sincerely and with disappointment, "I just wanted to give Aenar stability and offer you a safe place for the both of you, give you a better life."

Silence envelops you both, dense and charged with mixed emotions.

Aemond tries to find some sign on your face, wanting you to see his true intention, longing for some small indication of hope or acceptance.

And you feel the overwhelming weight of responsibility and emotions inside you. All of this is tempting, though your heart is still scarred by past pain and also distrust. And you are torn between caution and the opportunity to give Aenar the stability he deserves.

Aemond remains silent, respecting your space and your time to process the situation. But the indecision in you is all too obvious.

"Y/N, I promise you that all this is for Aenar and nothing else," he tells you seriously and sincerely, "I promise I won't try anything, except to take care of him and make sure he lacks nothing," he insists, "At least stay in this house until he grows up a little more and if you still think it's too much, we can find a smaller place," he proposes.

His words are left floating in the air, while you continue to think too hard. His proposal echoing in your mind, plunging you into a sea of thoughts, with indecision.

Aemond seems to have put his heart on the table, but your emotions continue to struggle between caution and hope, as you cannot ignore the possibility of offering Aenar a more secure and stable life, which is all you wish for him since you could not give him that at the beginning.

And it is also what Aemond desires, that is why he is so insistent and you see his true intention to give this to Aenar, without any other intentions in between.

But is it right to trust him again? What if Criston and his team try to intervene again? This time they would do it more easily.

Maybe it can be different this time.

You honestly feel like you're taking a big risk by agreeing. It's a big bet to open your life and Aenar's to this new opportunity, but you also see how he's striving to give you something better.

And that's exactly what has you questioning and wondering: should I give this a chance?

"All right," you finally say in a soft voice with a mixture of nervousness, "But only for Aenar."

Aemond looks at you with surprise and hope.

"Really?"

You nod, swallowing hard and Aemond lets out a long breath, visibly relieved and then, avoiding smiling big, takes the house key from his front pocket and holds it out to you, to which you take it a little confused.

"Don't you have to give it to the real estate agent?"

"Actually, I already bought it," he says with a nervous but innocent gesture at the same time, scratching the back of his neck, "Well, I haven't paid the whole amount, but I've paid most of it. So it's yours."

Seven fucking Hells.

You can't help but think as you close your eyes for a moment and let out a sigh, unable to believe it.

The new house soon began to have that warmth the moment you started settling in with Aenar. Every room radiates a sense of peace and comfort that you haven't experienced in a long time.

The move wasn't difficult at all, the only thing you had to transport from the old apartment with the help of Aemond and his driver was your clothes, Aenar's clothes, her toys and her crib, nothing else.

The house already had furniture, beds, decorations and even televisions already installed.

The high ceilings allow natural light to flood in, while the white walls set off the black and gray furniture and Aenar toys, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.

Aemond builds Lego block forts together with him, buys him toy dragons, cars, stuffed animals and they both watch Aenar's favorite cartoon or movies, getting cozy on the shag carpet or on the couch.

Because Aemond's apartment is close by, his commitment is more accessible, so there is never a day that goes by that he doesn't visit Aenar.

Special moments between father and son are spent in the living room, where toys scattered on the floor become Aenar's playroom area.

Also some evenings the three of you have dinner together, where Aemond offers to feed Aenar and eventually the dining room fills with laughter and smiles as you focus on him.

The backyard also becomes a realm of adventure, where they both even plan picnics and invite you over.

They also both sometimes spend afternoons exploring with laughter and playing with the plastic cars on the lawn where Aenar imitates the sounds Aemond makes from a car.

The new house is filled with happy and warm moments, forming the perfect setting for Aenar to begin to grow up, having both of his parents looking after him.

The proximity of work and Aemond's apartment made the daily routine easier. The routes are short and convenient, allowing more time to enjoy time together.

And above all you definitely feel more at ease having Elinda taking care of Aenar while you are considerably closer to home from the set.

When one day at night, you had already received a message from Aemond telling you that he would be a little late to visit Aenar, as usual, and you replied that it was fine, even though tomorrow is your day off and you have no problem with sleeping late.

But the clock is almost half past eleven at night and you think he is not going to arrive, when just at that moment you hear the doorbell ring and you go to the door, checking from the IPad the cameras of a program that Aemond installed to record Aenar while he sleeps and also monitors in case of anything and so you can make sure he is okay.

And finally you open the door, watching Aemond carefully.

"I thought you weren't coming anymore," you tell him in a low, warm tone, but also worried.

Aemond nods, letting out a sigh.

"I finished later than I thought. It was a hard day," he tells you heavily.

You nod softly and understandingly, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Aenar is already asleep."

"Yes, that's what i thought," he says calmly, "But it doesn't matter, I won't wake him up, I just want to see him," he watches you with tired eye, "You should go to sleep too," he says as he places one of his hands gently on your shoulder, "I'll lock up and set the alarm when I leave."

Hesitation shows on your face for a moment, watching him intently and with a flash of concern.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry," he nods at you with a small soft smile, "Go get some rest, I'll take care of it."

"Fine, but anything tell me, no matter what it is, okay?"

"Okay."

With a soft nod, you both head up the stairs and down the hallway to the rooms, you wave goodbye to him before entering your room and he enters Aenar's room.

And once in your room, you cover yourself with your sheets and thinking that you would fall asleep the moment you were in the comfort of your bed, you suddenly stare at the ceiling for a long time unable to close your eyes and clearly unable to sleep.

He hasn't left yet, as you haven't heard that soft 'click' of the door or his footsteps in the hallway walking away.

You try to find sleep any way you can, but the thought that Aemond is still in the house is what keeps you awake.

And it's not because you don't trust him, on the contrary, you look at the time and feel remorseful and worried that he has to drive back to his apartment so late.

Minutes pass and suddenly you find yourself restless, sleep refusing to invade you. So with quiet steps, you approach Aenar's room, where the dim light of a night lamp reflects through the frame below the door.

Carefully and determined, you gently open the door, first peeking your head and then your body, catching the attention of Aemond who turns his head towards you, sitting near Aenar's crib and gently and very lightly stroking his hair so as not to wake him with a look of affection that does not leave his face despite the interruption.

"Can't you sleep?" he whispers to you, watching you with a soft gaze.

You nod softly, folding your arms as you look down at sleeping Aenar with palpable tenderness.

"It's late and I thought maybe... if you want, you can sleep here," you say with a warm tone but your hint of shyness in your voice is noticeable, as well as your hesitation to suggest such a thing.

It's no problem for you, it's just that he's never slept over before and you don't know what his reaction will really be to you proposing that, whether he'll say yes or no.

"And you're okay with that?" he observes you thoughtfully and softly.

"Yes, of course I am," you assure him completely nonchalantly, "It's totally fine with me."

He nods at you with a gesture, without wiping away his soft little smile.

"Thank you."

And then both his gaze and yours return to watching Aenar asleep in his crib. And Aemond resumes the smile of tenderness on his lips, again sliding his hand over his hair.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he whispers with a flash of pride in his gaze.

You hum in assent, slowly moving closer toward them both.

"Yes, he is," you reply, gazing at your little one with indescribable love.

A brief silence envelops you for a moment, only hearing the soft hum of the spinning lamp projecting images on the ceiling, creating a peaceful low-light scene of animals and stars for Aenar.

This usually helps him sleep and also calms him down a bit if he wakes up crying in the middle of the night while you wake up and rush over here.

"For a while I imagined how he would looked like, whether boy or girl..." he murmurs in a soft, warm, low, wistful tone, "No matter what you decided to do when you left, I always thought about it," he gives you a meaningful look, guilt on his features and you nod, watching him with understanding.

Aemond clenches his jaw and looks at Aenar again, while you remember those days, where fear and uncertainty lived inside you every day.

You wish you had them, those happy moments that a new mom should experience, but that was not the case for you and yet... you cannot imagine a life without your little boy, it is impossible.

What is supposed to be happy news, was not happy for you and Aemond.

There was no single moment of joy at the beginning, when you learned of your pregnancy. Nor did you experience that feeling the first few months, when you ran away and went back to building a new life.

And Aemond feels the remorse most in these kinds of moments, when Aenar is asleep and he looks at him, not being able to believe and wondering over and over again how it is that from the beginning, he supported the idea of just getting rid of him.

And now he sees only him and cannot imagine a world without him.

Shame overcomes him, guilt also and he even wants to cry with anger as he thinks of all that you must have gone through, without his support, trying to make a living for you and his son, all alone in a new and unknown place.

And he knows that this, allowing you to be in Aenar's life, is a great opportunity that he doesn't deserve and yet you have given it to him.

"I know you said you can't forgive me but... someday can you? For how I reacted and for the decision I supported in the beginning?" he asks you, unable to help himself and needing to know.

His tone is charged with a mixture of regret and longing as you feel a pressure and a slight sharp pain in your chest at his words.

Silence stretches for a moment throughout the room, Aemond respects your silence and though there are many reasons why you should never forgive him for what happened, you still decide to be honest.

"I don't know," you whisper in a low, sad and vulnerable tone.

The words echo through the room, enveloping the space with palpable tension.

Aemond feels his heart pounding, filled with overwhelming regret. He lowers his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his mistakes and your words are like a dagger in his heart, but still, he understands you completely.

He nods with compression, letting out a regret-laden sigh, still gently stroking Aenar's hair.

"I understand," he murmurs with a tone of melancholy and fragility, as well as in his gaze full of pleading and remorse.

"Does your family know about him?"

And you with your sad eyes full of regret, you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

And you see all those emotions in him, all his thoughts reflected in his gaze, trying to stand firm and on the sidelines as he continues to watch Aenar.

You can't help but ask, trying to calm the atmosphere a little, though it's useless, as that slight tension is felt and also that physical and emotional distance from both your side and him.

"I've wanted to tell them, only Nyra knows but I asked her not to say anything," he confesses to you in a low voice, trying to speak firmly but the nostalgia is clear, "Even though I know my mother and siblings will be disappointed in me when I explained what happened two years ago, yes I have wanted to tell them," he nods, "But first I wanted to discuss it with you," he says looking briefly at you over his shoulder.

And now it is remorse that comes to you.

"Tell them, Aemond," you tell him firmly with a soft tone, "They deserve to know."

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@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

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@hypocritic-trash-baby

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

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six-eyed-samurai · 3 months

Note

Hello!! I saw ur taking requests, so u wanna know if you’d do a Giyuu x reader with koji and his little sister (if I remember correctly in the last fic, koji had a baby sister) where the little sister becomes bestfriends with a little boy at daycare but koji and Giyuu are being overprotective even tho she’s a baby😭😭 I thought this idea was so cute!! I’m really hoping you’ll have time to make this, make sure to drink water and thank you!!🤍🤍

-💽

SUMMARY: Like father like son - Giyuu and your eldest boy Koji are not happy at all your baby girl's made a new...ugh, boy friend. A/N: KYAAAAAAAH I can't believe you remembered, usually people only read 1 and 2. I'm so excited about this, it's so cute and TYSM for being my first request! Be sure to drink water too lovely! You can read this as a standalone fic, or part of: I, II, III WARNINGS: Fem reader, mentions of sex education. Post-war timeline SUNNY'S TAGLIST: @abadonkori @therabbitthatpostthings @ezekieleen (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed) MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS My inbox is still open if you would like to request for the event!

Man-eating demons. Comrade deaths. Yet nothing was as scary to the stoic Water Pillar when his firstborn suddenly appeared behind him whilst he was polishing his sword on the engawa and announced the dreaded six words.

"Dad, I have something to ask."

Giyuu froze, brain momentarily drawing a complete blank. The sword clattered to the ground, forgotten as Giyuu slowly turned his head around. Dear Kami-sama, he did not think this day would come so fast. He was just almost six, for goodness' sake; he'd been praying it would be another six years before he'd have to answer. Where were you? Crap, crap. You had gone to go pick up Sumire from daycare and now he'd have to deal with this himself.

Alright, he could do it. It's been six years as a dad. He could pull it off.

Koji waited for his father to nod before continuing, the serious face he shared with Giyuu creased with a frown. "How do you know-"

"Koji, it's a normal part of puberty everyone goes through, so naturally you'd be curious, and I'm very happy you trust me enough to come talk to me about it, but whatever sex jokes Uncle Sanemi has been making you want explained you should go ask your mother because I don't think I'm good enough at explaining what adults do at night or how babies are made at this stage," Giyuu blurted out. Exactly like how he had rehearsed it - Giyuu privately congratulated himself for not messing it up.

Two dark blue eyes blinked at him. "What?"

"What?"

"I-" Koji shook his head in confusion. "I dunno what you're talking about and I don't care how babies are made."

"Then..." Giyuu wanted to sink into the ground. "What...did you want to talk to me about?"

"Sumire." Koji wrinkled up his nose in a disgusted expression when he said his sister's name, padding up to his father and plopping down next to him.

"...is she asking you about these things then? I'm not too sure how to explain the jokes to a two year old either but I can try. Or you could just tell her babies come from storks," Giyuu offered helpfully.

"Wait - what? No, that's not what I was going to - what?"

Ah, for the days when Giyuu didn't open his mouth to talk much and eventually embarrass himself. "...sorry, go on."

"Yeah sure." Koji seemed a little distracted, even for a six year old. "Y'know the daycare? She made a new friend."

"That's...nice." At least she isn't taking after Giyuu? What was the problem here and how could he stop his ears from burning red at his not once but twice blunder?

"It's a boy. They keep playing together, sharing meals, nicknames and stuff. She even gave him -" Koji shuddered, narrowing his eyes. "A matching bracelet."

"A...boy?" Giyuu had long retired from being a slayer after the war and he probably wasn't too good with fighting with one arm, but hey, he was polishing that sword for a reason. He couldn't believe how he never spotted it before: Sumire had kicked up a huge fuss at being sent to daycare originally but recently had seemed almost...ecstatically eager to go. Too eager.

His own eyes narrowed. "Tell me everything."

***

"How's Sumi?"

At the sudden question you glanced behind to where your husband was pressing his forehead into your back, one arm wrapped around your waist as you cooked dinner. Not unusual behavior, but didn't Giyuu just see his daughter a few minutes ago?

"Fine, pretty happy at the daycare all things considering." You slid the salmon onto a different plate, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone. "At least we don't have to keep fighting another war just to get her out the door like last time."

"Koji says she's making friends there."

"Was he supposed to say anything else?" You rolled your eyes. Now you knew where this was coming from. Of course.

"I don't like her friend," Giyuu said plainly. He let go of you to help carry one of the dishes out of the kitchen with you, doing his one-armed best to assist you in setting the table.

"And why is that?" You nodded along, as if you didn't know why. How long would it be until Giyuu cracked? "Koji! Sumire! Time for dinner!"

"He's a boy. Someone trying to steal her away from us. He already gave her a bracelet!"

"Yuu. Yuu, look me in the eye right now." Once your husband finally turned to meet your face he could clearly see you were struggling to hold in your laughter. "One, you're a boy yourself. Two, she's, well, two. Three, Sumire gave him the bracelet."

"Yeah, but I'm her dad! So what if she's two? It's too early for her to fall in love. And a bracelet is basically an engagement jewelry already."

You couldn't help yourself anymore, doubling over in laughter at Giyuu's quiet whining. "Koji put you up this, didn't he?"

"He told me," Giyuu admitted. "But no boy's allowed around Sumi."

"Shion's not that bad of a kid," You countered. "It could be worse."

Giyuu nearly spat. "Wh-what? You know his name?"

"Obviously, Sumire won't stop talking about him."

"And not me?"

"Yuu, look at how overprotective you're acting right now and say that again." You bit down your giggles watching your husband scrunch up his face and attempt to find a way to defend himself as your two children ran in and took their seats.

"I'm not overprotective!"

***

Perhaps slightly protective. Nothing more.

At least Giyuu wasn't being as openly hostile as Sumire's elder brother, who was sitting judgmentally from the corner, glaring at Shion over his book. Giyuu wasn't glowering per se, but you would probably have to save the poor boy soon from under the weight of two penetratingly unnerving stares.

Sumire didn't notice, beaming with literal stars in her eyes at her playmate (Giyuu had been the one to invite him over, which was extremely fishy, which was why you had decided to stay and watch as well). "Hi, Shion-kun! Mama made mochi, wanna go eat?"

"Sure." The freckled face boy stepped through the doorway, following your baby girl into the kitchen. Giyuu eyed him from behind the steaming cup of tea. "Hi Tomioka-san! Is it true you used to be a samurai? Sumi-chan told me a lot about you!"

You strategically interrupted right then before Giyuu could say something awkwardly honest by dumping the plate of sakura mochi onto the table. "Help yourselves, there's plenty to go around!"

So on went the playdate, Sumire suggesting games to her new friend who did his best to act normal and not nervous under Koji's sarcastic quips and Giyuu's pointed stare, oblivious to the fact her brother and father weren't ready to give her up yet (a trait she clearly got from Giyuu) - despite the fact you had spent half an hour before this drilling into their heads Shion was not here to go kidnap Sumire.

You made the mistake of leaving to go clean up the mess in the kitchen later on, however, under the relieved thought that maybe Giyuu had gotten over his little temper tantrum over the boy. Big mistake, because next thing you knew-

"GIYUU WHY ARE YOU HAVING A DUEL WITH A THREE YEAR OLD-"

"He wanted to learn how to use a sword," Giyuu said blankly, pausing in his movements. It certainly seemed innocent and safe enough, seeing as they were using wooden swords and were outside. Sumire excitedly stood by Shion's side, ever the cheerleader.

But you knew your man and son a lot better than that. There was no way they hadn't planned this, not when they were sharing a look.

"I wanna try be like Tomioka-san! Sumi-chan said he used to fight demons and even fought their king. That's so cool!" Shion piped up excitedly. You were going to murder your overprotective husband for this later...if Sumire didn't beat you to it.

"See, Ma? It's all fine," Koji smirked from the sidelines. "Begin!"

***

Predictably it ended with Giyuu slapping Shion with the flat of his blade, causing a scraped knee as well as Giyuu muttering to the fallen "Don't you even think about doing anything to her" when Sumire panicked and rushed over to her friend.

Luckily you managed to usher Shion out to be picked up by his dad in a flurry of apologies, pleasantries and assurances that it was lovely having him over while Sumire burst into tears and asked him not to go yet (you heard Giyuu's almost inaudible "Hmph" when Shion too cried and said the same thing).

Giyuu and Koji were feeling pretty good about themselves, sharing a victorious glance at each other - Team Tomioka 1, Scum Boy 0 - until you slammed the doors shut, calmed down your precious Sumire with the promise of all the leftover mochi in the kitchen before bedtime and then turned around to fix the both of them with your intense glare.

"Koji! Grounded, now!"

"What did I do?!" Koji threw up his hands but stomped off to his room.

"I saw you push Shion, don't act innocent!" You grabbed Giyuu's arm and began to haul him off to the privacy of your bedroom. "And don't think I forgot about you as well, Tomioka Giyuu!"

Damn, you did forget how pathetically kicked puppy-like Giyuu could look when he was playing innocent. "I didn't intentionally beat him up, you know."

"I know you didn't, Yuu," you said sweetly. "But I didn't know you were into fighting with little kids as well!"

"I just don't want anyone taking away Sumi."

You groaned. Once again Giyuu has melted your heart into a slushy mess with his blunt sincerity and expression. You leaned into his hold, grudgingly allowing him to pull your head into his chest but hit him with your fist still. "You're still not supposed to pull that kind of stunt, alright? No one's taking Sumi away from us. You and Koji are really idiots sometimes."

"What if I told you Koji likes a girl too?"

Your head snapped up. "WHAT?!"

"Yeah. He met her at school. Someone named Yuma," Giyuu said casually, as if he didn't know you would be reacting this way. He hummed, playing with your hair. "That's why he took your mochi, by the way, to give it to her."

"Why didn't he tell me?!" You wailed, suddenly forgetting how you had scolded Giyuu for this exact behavior. "I'm his mom! He's growing up so fast!"

Giyuu attempted to continue with his revenge plan but ultimately failed: you both wound up cuddling the rest of the night disappointedly lamenting how fast time flies.

***

BONUS:

"Onii-chan, what are Mama and Daddy doing in there?" Sumire pressed her ear close to the door, munching on her dessert.

Koji froze. "Uh...babies come from storks, Sumi."

#Sunny's Works #giyuu x reader #giyuu x you #giyuu x y/n #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x you #giyuu tomioka x y/n #kny x reader #giyuu fluff #giyuu tomioka fluff #Sunny's 200+ Followers Event

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jasmineoolongtea · 3 months

Note

Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."

203 notes · View notes

velvetures · 5 months

Text

Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

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#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon <3 #velvetures answers #anon answered #anon ask

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