#you are always so kind and supportive towards me

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 7

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: After you kissed Tyler on his livestream, things between the two of you only continue to develop. Word Count: 3169 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

You weren’t sure how long you and Tyler remained seated in the front of his truck with your lips pressed against each other, but far sooner than you would have liked, you heard Boone shouting from outside, “Hey, love birds! You’ll wanna see this!”

Reluctantly, you broke away from Tyler, both of you panting slightly as you gazed at each other. Then he winked before undoing his harness and climbing out of the truck. You took a deep breath, unhooked your own harness (after a momentary struggle), and opened the truck door.

The winds still rustled gently over the field as you eased out of the truck, your feet standing on the running board as you leaned against the door. About 100 yards in front of you, the tornado continued to twist and twirl through the grass as it made its way away from the truck. Now that your initial fear of driving into it had passed, you were really able to appreciate the magnificence and raw power of the towering wall of wind. It truly was a wonder of nature and you understood why people came from all over just to experience this moment.

You, Tyler, and Boone continued to watch the storm until it began to collapse several minutes later. The death of the tornado was in some ways just as beautiful as the raging storm itself. And as the last of the funnel disappeared, leaving nothing but dark clouds and a band of rain where it had once stood, it felt like a spell was broken as the world around you exhaled.

Looking at you from the other side of the truck, Tyler grinned. “Well, sweetheart, what did you think?”

“That was fucking amazing!” you cried as you jumped down from the truck. “It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life! Oh my god, Tyler, thank you!” 

As you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, squeezing him tightly and burying your face in his neck. He laughed as he twirled you around and you could feel his heart racing in his chest, fueled by the same adrenaline that was flooding your system. 

When he stopped, you lifted your head. He was staring right at you, his green eyes sparkling like the stars he had shown you the night you met, his smile so wide that his dimples were on full display. You had never seen someone so breathtaking and full of life before. It was intoxicating.

He must have been thinking the same thing about you.

Tracing his fingers down the side of your face, he murmured, “What are you thanking me for? Chasing the storm…or the kiss?”

You licked your lips as you stared at his and whispered, “Both.”

“Good.” Tyler bent his head down until his mouth just barely hovered over yours. “As long as there’s no regrets.”

“Just that we waited so long to do this.” And you pressed your lips against his. 

You were still kissing when you heard several vehicles pull up beside you. You looked up to see Dani, Dexter, and Lily leaning out their windows, cheering and catcalling as they watched you and Tyler. 

Tyler took a step towards them, his hands raised, “All right, all right. Y’all had your fun.”

“Looks like you two did too,” Dani smirked as she held up a tablet and hopped out of her van. 

“I’m sorry we kind of ruined your video,” you said, sinking sheepishly into yourself.

“Ruined it?” Dexter chuckled. “We already have more views after twenty minutes than most of our videos get after being posted for a month.”

“Really?” You reached out to take the tablet from Dani so you could look, but she drew it into her chest.

“Um…you might not want to look at the comments.”

Your smile evaporated as you looked around at each of the Wranglers. “Oh. But I thought you said…”

Lily hesitated, fiddling with the goggles she just pulled off her head. “They liked the video but some people are just a little…” She hesitated as she struggled to find the right word.

Dani snorted, “They’re jealous. Tyler’s fangirls weren’t too happy seeing him swapping spit with the pretty new girl while they had to just sit there and watch.”

“Oh,” you blinked. That was not the answer you had been expecting.

Tyler placed his hand gently on the back of your arm. “We can go through and delete those comments and make sure everyone knows we don’t stand for that kind of stuff on our page.”

You shrugged. “Let ‘em talk.”

“Really?” Tyler asked, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cowboy hat. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “If the cost of me getting to do this is a little online hate, I’ll gladly pay that price.” Then you planted another big kiss on his lips. 

Tyler wrapped himself around your waist and the next thing you knew, he dipped you backward, his muscular arms the only thing keeping you from crashing to the ground. It felt like a scene straight out of a romance novel. The Cowboy and the College Girl. 

Yet this was better than any romance novel because it was real. Tyler was real and he was kissing you and it was everything you had wanted since he drew you into his chest as you cried under the stars in the back of his truck the night you met. And you never wanted it to end.

Everyone was hungry after the morning of excitement so Dexter ducked into the camper van and reappeared several minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and individual bags of chips. Everyone else grabbed folding chairs from their vehicles, but Tyler lowered the tailgate of his truck, sat on the edge, and pulled you into his lap. You were a little uncomfortable at first, being so brazen in front of the rest of the crew, but you quickly settled back against his chest as you ate. Already, you felt like you just fit perfectly in his arms and you couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face as you chewed.

The other Wranglers exchanged a few looks and soft snickers, but they didn’t say anything. It was only as everyone was finishing up, that Boone addressed the elephant in the field. 

“So, is this gonna be a thing now?”

“Boone—” Tyler’s voice had a slight warning edge.

His friend held up his hands. “I don’t mean nothing by it, I’m just wondering.”

Before Tyler could answer, you leaned back so you could look at him directly. “You know, I’d like to know the answer to that too.”

There were a few ‘ooo’s’ from Dani and Lily, but Tyler ignored them. Holding your gaze, his green eyes shining with open sincerity, he said, “How about I like you a lot and am excited to get to see where this goes?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that.” He leaned down and gently kissed you on the lips. When he sat back up, you smiled. “You know, I’ve never been with a Southern cowboy before. It’s already been such a big change having a guy come pick me up each morning or walk me to my room every night.” Nudging his side, you added, “You might regret that because I’m starting to expect it.”

He grinned, his dimples on full display, and dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You settled back, snuggling into him as his arms tightened around you. 

“Aww!” Lily said. “You two are so cute together!”

“Yeah, just be careful you don't invite him in when he walks you to your room,” Dani teased.

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Everyone else started laughing but you had clearly missed something. “Um, why shouldn't I do that?”

Tyler sighed. “It’s nothing. They're all just idiots.”

Boone grinned at his friend’s annoyance. “Tyler said back in his rodeo days, the whole circuit traveled all over the country for competitions, staying in cheap motels like we do now.”

Dani leaned on Boone’s shoulder and picked up his story. “And whenever they’d hire a new girl to travel with ‘em, they’d warn her ‘don’t invite one of the cowboys into your room unless you plan on him spending the night’.”

“I never should have told y’all about that,” Tyler grumbled under his breath. Louder, he said, “It’s been a running joke since then. Even though it’s not true—” he shot Boone and Dani a sharp glare, and they held up their hands “—they never let me forget it. But I’m perfectly capable of going into a person’s room at night and leaving before the next morning.”

“Oh, so you’re love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy,” Dani said, nodding. “Nice.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler growled, tensing beneath you. It was obvious Dani was just teasing, but you had gotten to know Tyler well enough to know respect and courtesy meant a lot to him. And even just the insinuation that he might not treat you the way you ought to be treated hit a nerve. 

Placing one hand on his thigh, you gave it a tight squeeze. His face had lost all of the happiness it had just a moment ago, but you gave him a warm smile, hopefully reassuring him you knew the kind of man he was. 

Then, you turned back to the rest of the Wranglers. Popping a chip into your mouth, you asked, “So…any of you ever invite Tyler in just to test out that theory?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Lily spoke up. “No…but he does share a room with Boone.”

Boone’s head shot up at the sound of his name. He had started fiddling with his camera when things got tense between Dani and Tyler, so he blinked, clearly trying to figure out what he had missed. Then, with a huge smile, he exclaimed, “Oh yeah! Ty and I always share a room. Sleeping with a friend is much better than sleeping alone.”

There was a pause before everyone burst out laughing. Boone looked around, not quite understanding the joke. As the conversation shifted into poking fun at Boone and the other Wranglers’ sleeping arrangements, Tyler pressed his lips into your hair, just above your ear, and whispered, “Thank you.” 

You could already feel the tension easing out of him and you squeezed his leg again in acknowledgement. After all the times you had leaned on Tyler for support in the last few days, it felt nice to actually be able to do something for him for a change. 

The rest of the afternoon, you rode next to Tyler as the crew looked for another storm to chase. Boone had made some excuse about needing to talk to Lily about the quality of their live stream so he rode in her van. You weren't sure whether that was his idea or Tyler’s, but you weren’t complaining about having a bit of alone time with the lead Tornado Wrangler. 

It seemed now that the line had been crossed, neither of you could keep your hands to yourselves. The confined space of the truck cabin along with the restrictive nature of your seat belts limited your methods of contact but you still found ways around those obstacles: While Tyler told you about growing up in Texas, you nodded along as you trailed your fingers through his hair. While you explained what you were going to school for and what you wanted to do after graduation, he smiled and played with the strap of your tank top. While you both discussed your favorite movies and music, your hands were linked across the center console. 

By the time Tyler pulled into a motel for the night, your body was aching for more of him. At one point, you had to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together or let out a soft moan as he rested his hand on your bare thigh just below the frayed cutoff bottoms of your shorts. Yet you couldn’t stop your toes from curling in your boots as he began absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in circles over your skin. As soon as you got the key to your room, you were going to have to take a very lengthy cold shower.

But it wasn’t just the physical moments that had your heart racing as you climbed out of the truck. There was never a moment of awkward silence or uncomfortableness, just effortless, engaging conversation and laughter. You had learned so much more about the cowboy and every little new thing just made you like him all the more. 

After Tyler helped you out of the truck, he left to book the rooms for the night. You unloaded a few of the bags out of the back—including your own—and looked around. Strangely, you didn’t see the faintest trace of Storm PAR. None of their vehicles were in the parking lot and you couldn’t spot a single one of their signature polos mingling around in the crowd of people settling in after the day of chasing. 

Hopefully something hadn’t happened in the field today…

“Hey.” You turned to see Lily approaching, holding out a piece of paper folded into a small square. “I saw Javi when we stopped for gas. He asked me to give this to you. Said Storm PAR is staying on the other end of town tonight.”

Think of the devil… You took the paper from her. “Did he say why?”

“No, but I sort of got the impression he was in a hurry to get back to his truck so I didn’t ask.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

As Lily walked away, you opened the note. The handwriting was a bit sloppy and hard to decipher, almost as if it were scrawled in a hurry, but you read:

He’ll deny it, but Scott watched today. Might want to keep your distance for a while.

You smiled as you reread it. Yeah, Scott probably wasn’t too happy to see you locking lips with Tyler and you were sure to get an earful about that at some point, but Scott had watched the stream. Maybe it was just so he could say he told you so and rub it in everyone’s face if you chickened out, but you couldn’t help but think—hope—that he might have been watching because he was worried for your safety. Could it be that your big brother cared about you after all?

“What’s got you so smiley?” 

You looked up and held out the note for Tyler to see as he got closer. “You might want to avoid my brother for a few days. Seems he caught our little make-out session this morning and I have a feeling if he didn’t hate you before, he does now.”

“I’m not worried. I can handle Scotty.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in, twisting you so your back pressed against his chest. Then he rested his chin on your shoulder. “But how are you feeling about him seeing that?”

“I’m…good. When I first got here and came up with this stupid plan, I would have been thrilled that he saw us. I would have tracked him down and rubbed it in his face just to see his blood boil. But now—” you tilted your head and nuzzled it against Tyler’s “—I don’t care what he thinks or how he’s reacting. I don’t want to waste any more of my energy on him. I just want to focus on us.”

“Hmmm,” Tyler hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “‘Us’. I like the sound of that.”

“Not too presumptuous?”

“Not at all,” he said, tightening his arms around your waist. “I’d be more than happy to be part of an us with you.” 

The two of you remained standing by Tyler’s truck, swaying gently wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. You would have stayed there all night if you could, but the adrenaline of the day began wearing off and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Reluctantly, you whispered, “I think I should be heading to my room.”

Tyler nodded against you. “Would you like an escort?”

“Always.”

He gave you one final squeeze before releasing you. Then he grabbed your backpack from where you had tossed it on the ground earlier, and he threw his other arm across your shoulders. Walking with your head resting on his chest, the two of you made your way across the parking lot and up the stairs to your room. It was becoming a familiar routine but this time the walk seemed too short and, in no time, you were standing in front of your door. 

You opened it and turned to face Tyler. “Thank you for everything today. The storm a-and us.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. “I’m just sorry I waited. I shoulda kissed you the first night after I walked you to your room or when we were lying in the back of my truck. I knew then that I wanted there to be an us.”

“Me too.” Pressing your forehead against his, your eyes fluttered closed as you whispered, “Why does it feel like I’ve known you for years when it’s only been three days?”

He hummed back, “I don’t know, but I feel it too. Like...you’ve always been here with me. Is that crazy?”

“No. It’s a bit sappy but also romantic as fuck.” 

Tyler snorted, the brief burst of air tickling your nose. Then he whispered, “I should go.”

You nodded, opening your eyes. You didn’t want him to leave but the intensity and speed at which your feelings for him were developing almost scared you and you knew inviting him to stay was not what was best for either of you right now.

Yet as he reached for your hand, you pulled it away. With a sly smile, you said, “Uh uh. Tonight, I want a real kiss goodnight.”

Tyler grinned, flashing his dimples. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he pulled you into his lips. Though the two of you had been kissing throughout the day, none of them had been like this. There was a heat, a fire burning under his skin that had never been there before. He pressed into you, his body flush against yours, and you couldn’t hold back as you moaned into his mouth. All of the need you had been feeling in his truck came rushing back, and you could feel the tension already building in your core. 

But just as you began maneuvering so you could grind against his thigh, Tyler pulled back. You gasped at the sudden loss and looked at him, mouth agape. He just smiled and whispered, “Think of me tonight, sweetheart. I know I’ll be thinking of you.” Then, he was gone.

For the third night in a row, you went to bed cursing that son of a bitch who was quickly stealing your heart.  

Part 8 coming 9/30!

Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole,

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@loreng2622, @weebgirl21

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 7

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: After you kissed Tyler on his livestream, things between the two of you only continue to develop. Word Count: 3169 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

You weren’t sure how long you and Tyler remained seated in the front of his truck with your lips pressed against each other, but far sooner than you would have liked, you heard Boone shouting from outside, “Hey, love birds! You’ll wanna see this!”

Reluctantly, you broke away from Tyler, both of you panting slightly as you gazed at each other. Then he winked before undoing his harness and climbing out of the truck. You took a deep breath, unhooked your own harness (after a momentary struggle), and opened the truck door.

The winds still rustled gently over the field as you eased out of the truck, your feet standing on the running board as you leaned against the door. About 100 yards in front of you, the tornado continued to twist and twirl through the grass as it made its way away from the truck. Now that your initial fear of driving into it had passed, you were really able to appreciate the magnificence and raw power of the towering wall of wind. It truly was a wonder of nature and you understood why people came from all over just to experience this moment.

You, Tyler, and Boone continued to watch the storm until it began to collapse several minutes later. The death of the tornado was in some ways just as beautiful as the raging storm itself. And as the last of the funnel disappeared, leaving nothing but dark clouds and a band of rain where it had once stood, it felt like a spell was broken as the world around you exhaled.

Looking at you from the other side of the truck, Tyler grinned. “Well, sweetheart, what did you think?”

“That was fucking amazing!” you cried as you jumped down from the truck. “It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life! Oh my god, Tyler, thank you!” 

As you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, squeezing him tightly and burying your face in his neck. He laughed as he twirled you around and you could feel his heart racing in his chest, fueled by the same adrenaline that was flooding your system. 

When he stopped, you lifted your head. He was staring right at you, his green eyes sparkling like the stars he had shown you the night you met, his smile so wide that his dimples were on full display. You had never seen someone so breathtaking and full of life before. It was intoxicating.

He must have been thinking the same thing about you.

Tracing his fingers down the side of your face, he murmured, “What are you thanking me for? Chasing the storm…or the kiss?”

You licked your lips as you stared at his and whispered, “Both.”

“Good.” Tyler bent his head down until his mouth just barely hovered over yours. “As long as there’s no regrets.”

“Just that we waited so long to do this.” And you pressed your lips against his. 

You were still kissing when you heard several vehicles pull up beside you. You looked up to see Dani, Dexter, and Lily leaning out their windows, cheering and catcalling as they watched you and Tyler. 

Tyler took a step towards them, his hands raised, “All right, all right. Y’all had your fun.”

“Looks like you two did too,” Dani smirked as she held up a tablet and hopped out of her van. 

“I’m sorry we kind of ruined your video,” you said, sinking sheepishly into yourself.

“Ruined it?” Dexter chuckled. “We already have more views after twenty minutes than most of our videos get after being posted for a month.”

“Really?” You reached out to take the tablet from Dani so you could look, but she drew it into her chest.

“Um…you might not want to look at the comments.”

Your smile evaporated as you looked around at each of the Wranglers. “Oh. But I thought you said…”

Lily hesitated, fiddling with the goggles she just pulled off her head. “They liked the video but some people are just a little…” She hesitated as she struggled to find the right word.

Dani snorted, “They’re jealous. Tyler’s fangirls weren’t too happy seeing him swapping spit with the pretty new girl while they had to just sit there and watch.”

“Oh,” you blinked. That was not the answer you had been expecting.

Tyler placed his hand gently on the back of your arm. “We can go through and delete those comments and make sure everyone knows we don’t stand for that kind of stuff on our page.”

You shrugged. “Let ‘em talk.”

“Really?” Tyler asked, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cowboy hat. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “If the cost of me getting to do this is a little online hate, I’ll gladly pay that price.” Then you planted another big kiss on his lips. 

Tyler wrapped himself around your waist and the next thing you knew, he dipped you backward, his muscular arms the only thing keeping you from crashing to the ground. It felt like a scene straight out of a romance novel. The Cowboy and the College Girl. 

Yet this was better than any romance novel because it was real. Tyler was real and he was kissing you and it was everything you had wanted since he drew you into his chest as you cried under the stars in the back of his truck the night you met. And you never wanted it to end.

Everyone was hungry after the morning of excitement so Dexter ducked into the camper van and reappeared several minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and individual bags of chips. Everyone else grabbed folding chairs from their vehicles, but Tyler lowered the tailgate of his truck, sat on the edge, and pulled you into his lap. You were a little uncomfortable at first, being so brazen in front of the rest of the crew, but you quickly settled back against his chest as you ate. Already, you felt like you just fit perfectly in his arms and you couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face as you chewed.

The other Wranglers exchanged a few looks and soft snickers, but they didn’t say anything. It was only as everyone was finishing up, that Boone addressed the elephant in the field. 

“So, is this gonna be a thing now?”

“Boone—” Tyler’s voice had a slight warning edge.

His friend held up his hands. “I don’t mean nothing by it, I’m just wondering.”

Before Tyler could answer, you leaned back so you could look at him directly. “You know, I’d like to know the answer to that too.”

There were a few ‘ooo’s’ from Dani and Lily, but Tyler ignored them. Holding your gaze, his green eyes shining with open sincerity, he said, “How about I like you a lot and am excited to get to see where this goes?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that.” He leaned down and gently kissed you on the lips. When he sat back up, you smiled. “You know, I’ve never been with a Southern cowboy before. It’s already been such a big change having a guy come pick me up each morning or walk me to my room every night.” Nudging his side, you added, “You might regret that because I’m starting to expect it.”

He grinned, his dimples on full display, and dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You settled back, snuggling into him as his arms tightened around you. 

“Aww!” Lily said. “You two are so cute together!”

“Yeah, just be careful you don't invite him in when he walks you to your room,” Dani teased.

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Everyone else started laughing but you had clearly missed something. “Um, why shouldn't I do that?”

Tyler sighed. “It’s nothing. They're all just idiots.”

Boone grinned at his friend’s annoyance. “Tyler said back in his rodeo days, the whole circuit traveled all over the country for competitions, staying in cheap motels like we do now.”

Dani leaned on Boone’s shoulder and picked up his story. “And whenever they’d hire a new girl to travel with ‘em, they’d warn her ‘don’t invite one of the cowboys into your room unless you plan on him spending the night’.”

“I never should have told y’all about that,” Tyler grumbled under his breath. Louder, he said, “It’s been a running joke since then. Even though it’s not true—” he shot Boone and Dani a sharp glare, and they held up their hands “—they never let me forget it. But I’m perfectly capable of going into a person’s room at night and leaving before the next morning.”

“Oh, so you’re love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy,” Dani said, nodding. “Nice.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler growled, tensing beneath you. It was obvious Dani was just teasing, but you had gotten to know Tyler well enough to know respect and courtesy meant a lot to him. And even just the insinuation that he might not treat you the way you ought to be treated hit a nerve. 

Placing one hand on his thigh, you gave it a tight squeeze. His face had lost all of the happiness it had just a moment ago, but you gave him a warm smile, hopefully reassuring him you knew the kind of man he was. 

Then, you turned back to the rest of the Wranglers. Popping a chip into your mouth, you asked, “So…any of you ever invite Tyler in just to test out that theory?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Lily spoke up. “No…but he does share a room with Boone.”

Boone’s head shot up at the sound of his name. He had started fiddling with his camera when things got tense between Dani and Tyler, so he blinked, clearly trying to figure out what he had missed. Then, with a huge smile, he exclaimed, “Oh yeah! Ty and I always share a room. Sleeping with a friend is much better than sleeping alone.”

There was a pause before everyone burst out laughing. Boone looked around, not quite understanding the joke. As the conversation shifted into poking fun at Boone and the other Wranglers’ sleeping arrangements, Tyler pressed his lips into your hair, just above your ear, and whispered, “Thank you.” 

You could already feel the tension easing out of him and you squeezed his leg again in acknowledgement. After all the times you had leaned on Tyler for support in the last few days, it felt nice to actually be able to do something for him for a change. 

The rest of the afternoon, you rode next to Tyler as the crew looked for another storm to chase. Boone had made some excuse about needing to talk to Lily about the quality of their live stream so he rode in her van. You weren't sure whether that was his idea or Tyler’s, but you weren’t complaining about having a bit of alone time with the lead Tornado Wrangler. 

It seemed now that the line had been crossed, neither of you could keep your hands to yourselves. The confined space of the truck cabin along with the restrictive nature of your seat belts limited your methods of contact but you still found ways around those obstacles: While Tyler told you about growing up in Texas, you nodded along as you trailed your fingers through his hair. While you explained what you were going to school for and what you wanted to do after graduation, he smiled and played with the strap of your tank top. While you both discussed your favorite movies and music, your hands were linked across the center console. 

By the time Tyler pulled into a motel for the night, your body was aching for more of him. At one point, you had to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together or let out a soft moan as he rested his hand on your bare thigh just below the frayed cutoff bottoms of your shorts. Yet you couldn’t stop your toes from curling in your boots as he began absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in circles over your skin. As soon as you got the key to your room, you were going to have to take a very lengthy cold shower.

But it wasn’t just the physical moments that had your heart racing as you climbed out of the truck. There was never a moment of awkward silence or uncomfortableness, just effortless, engaging conversation and laughter. You had learned so much more about the cowboy and every little new thing just made you like him all the more. 

After Tyler helped you out of the truck, he left to book the rooms for the night. You unloaded a few of the bags out of the back—including your own—and looked around. Strangely, you didn’t see the faintest trace of Storm PAR. None of their vehicles were in the parking lot and you couldn’t spot a single one of their signature polos mingling around in the crowd of people settling in after the day of chasing. 

Hopefully something hadn’t happened in the field today…

“Hey.” You turned to see Lily approaching, holding out a piece of paper folded into a small square. “I saw Javi when we stopped for gas. He asked me to give this to you. Said Storm PAR is staying on the other end of town tonight.”

Think of the devil… You took the paper from her. “Did he say why?”

“No, but I sort of got the impression he was in a hurry to get back to his truck so I didn’t ask.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

As Lily walked away, you opened the note. The handwriting was a bit sloppy and hard to decipher, almost as if it were scrawled in a hurry, but you read:

He’ll deny it, but Scott watched today. Might want to keep your distance for a while.

You smiled as you reread it. Yeah, Scott probably wasn’t too happy to see you locking lips with Tyler and you were sure to get an earful about that at some point, but Scott had watched the stream. Maybe it was just so he could say he told you so and rub it in everyone’s face if you chickened out, but you couldn’t help but think—hope—that he might have been watching because he was worried for your safety. Could it be that your big brother cared about you after all?

“What’s got you so smiley?” 

You looked up and held out the note for Tyler to see as he got closer. “You might want to avoid my brother for a few days. Seems he caught our little make-out session this morning and I have a feeling if he didn’t hate you before, he does now.”

“I’m not worried. I can handle Scotty.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in, twisting you so your back pressed against his chest. Then he rested his chin on your shoulder. “But how are you feeling about him seeing that?”

“I’m…good. When I first got here and came up with this stupid plan, I would have been thrilled that he saw us. I would have tracked him down and rubbed it in his face just to see his blood boil. But now—” you tilted your head and nuzzled it against Tyler’s “—I don’t care what he thinks or how he’s reacting. I don’t want to waste any more of my energy on him. I just want to focus on us.”

“Hmmm,” Tyler hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “‘Us’. I like the sound of that.”

“Not too presumptuous?”

“Not at all,” he said, tightening his arms around your waist. “I’d be more than happy to be part of an us with you.” 

The two of you remained standing by Tyler’s truck, swaying gently wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. You would have stayed there all night if you could, but the adrenaline of the day began wearing off and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Reluctantly, you whispered, “I think I should be heading to my room.”

Tyler nodded against you. “Would you like an escort?”

“Always.”

He gave you one final squeeze before releasing you. Then he grabbed your backpack from where you had tossed it on the ground earlier, and he threw his other arm across your shoulders. Walking with your head resting on his chest, the two of you made your way across the parking lot and up the stairs to your room. It was becoming a familiar routine but this time the walk seemed too short and, in no time, you were standing in front of your door. 

You opened it and turned to face Tyler. “Thank you for everything today. The storm a-and us.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. “I’m just sorry I waited. I shoulda kissed you the first night after I walked you to your room or when we were lying in the back of my truck. I knew then that I wanted there to be an us.”

“Me too.” Pressing your forehead against his, your eyes fluttered closed as you whispered, “Why does it feel like I’ve known you for years when it’s only been three days?”

He hummed back, “I don’t know, but I feel it too. Like...you’ve always been here with me. Is that crazy?”

“No. It’s a bit sappy but also romantic as fuck.” 

Tyler snorted, the brief burst of air tickling your nose. Then he whispered, “I should go.”

You nodded, opening your eyes. You didn’t want him to leave but the intensity and speed at which your feelings for him were developing almost scared you and you knew inviting him to stay was not what was best for either of you right now.

Yet as he reached for your hand, you pulled it away. With a sly smile, you said, “Uh uh. Tonight, I want a real kiss goodnight.”

Tyler grinned, flashing his dimples. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he pulled you into his lips. Though the two of you had been kissing throughout the day, none of them had been like this. There was a heat, a fire burning under his skin that had never been there before. He pressed into you, his body flush against yours, and you couldn’t hold back as you moaned into his mouth. All of the need you had been feeling in his truck came rushing back, and you could feel the tension already building in your core. 

But just as you began maneuvering so you could grind against his thigh, Tyler pulled back. You gasped at the sudden loss and looked at him, mouth agape. He just smiled and whispered, “Think of me tonight, sweetheart. I know I’ll be thinking of you.” Then, he was gone.

For the third night in a row, you went to bed cursing that son of a bitch who was quickly stealing your heart.  

Part 8 coming 9/30!

[gilverrwrites]

yknow, something about dick grayson—golden boy, beloved, etc—falling for the forgotten sionis!reader feels entirely poetic for both of them that I love it so much

Dick Grayson/Sionis!Reader [Post in reference] gah yeah I love them, I'm so glad ya'll are seeing my vision! 💙 Like you said, theirs just something so ✨ about them

Here's a 1000 of fluff/Dick being a simp just cause I was thinking about them today. Like, they're getting ready for their first public event since they told their families; you're so nervous about seeing your father again since he’d snapped at you, telling you (to paraphrase from Roman’s much more colourful language:) no daughter of his would date a Wayne and he didn’t want to see you again until you'd come to you senses, which Dick thought was awfully rich from a man who barely made an effort to see his daughter anyway.

That night Dick is in a bad mood. He hasn’t really enjoyed these functions in years, of late he’d only ever made the effort to go when Bruce had asked him to; the silver lining always being that he might catch a glimpse of you. But you’d insisted on going tonight in order to keep up appearances. It drives him mad that even after everything they put you through, even after they’ve practically cut you out, you’re still trying so hard to please them. Him. Roman. He never deserved you for a daughter, none of them deserved you. But it’s not his call to make, he said he’d support you, whatever your decision and he wholeheartedly intends to keep that promise.

He's adjusting his bowtie in the warped reflection of the toaster for the fourth time when you emerge from the bedroom in a dress he hasn’t seen before, and trust that he remembers every dress he’s ever seen you in. It stops him mid-fold, compelling him to twist on the spot to soak you in. It’s mesh, with a tasteful amount of sparkle, a whole lot of delicate embroidery and it’s a very familiar shade of deep blue to boot.

“Is that new?” He asks, unable to stop his mouth from falling open.

“Um, kinda. New to me. Clarissa from wardrobe let me borrow it.” You explain as you give him a perfectly posed twirl, offering him a better look. The tulle skirt rises as you do so, like you’re his very own fairy princess. “Do you like it?”

“Clarissa from wardrobe.” He muses dreamily as he strides closer, stretching his arms out toward you. You reach back for him, but he dodges your embrace, locking his hands on your waist and hoisting you into the air for another spin. “Remind me to repay her with our firstborn.”

Despite his good humour and admiration. Dick is now actually in a worse mood. You’ve been so stressed the last few days. He both hates and understands how you allow your family to have that kind of power over you. He hates that he has to share you with a room full of pompous old men, and a family that can’t see past their own noses, and now has to do it while you look like that. While all he really wants to do is take you to a real dance hall, or a magic forest full of talking woodland creatures, or hell, back into the bedroom.

“So, that’s a yes?” Your voice is high and giggly as he drops you back onto the floor. Holding tight still, he brings you close to his chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and planting kisses along your collar. This is the most relaxed he’s seen you all day and he wants to make the most of it. Instinctively, your soft hands travel up his back, resting on his shoulders, and he can’t help but rock your bodies side to side as he continues to speckle his affections along your chest.

“Like it, I love it!” He murmurs into your warm skin. You haven’t put on your perfume yet, he can tell. He likes the aroma of your chosen fragrance, but even more, he loves your natural scent, and he relishes it as he works his way up your neck until you’re face to face once more. It’s you who kisses him, decisively planting your soft, painted lips on his and causing him to stop his sway in its tracks. When you pull back and look at him with your brilliant eyes, through those soft lashes, he can’t help but blurt his mind. “Are you sure you want to go to this thing?”

“Oh.” You hesitate, and it’s answer enough but he lets you finish anyway. “Yes… I’m not giving up on my family, or you.”

Your determination is endearing, commendable, and hopefully not as futile as he believes. Accepting Black Mask as his future father-in-law may not be easy, but if you mend that bridge, he’ll make it work. Whatever way he has to. He thinks this as he watches you retract from his arms, he doesn’t let you go however, holding onto your hand and following you back into the bedroom.

You settle at your vanity, clearing up your makeup and Dick crouches behind you. The side of his head rests against yours as he watches your face in the mirror. You try to swat him away, presumably to make whatever finishing touches you need to your make-up, but he refuses to go, grinning ear to ear as he dodges your beauty blender.

Eventually, you give up, starting on the other side instead. He sticks his tongue out in triumph, and you roll your eyes at him despite your begrudging smile.

You turn away from him to search your drawers for something and he notices the top button of your dress has come undone. His touch is gentle as he strokes the back of his knuckle from your nape, down to the hem of the dress, and he grins to himself when his finger evokes a serene sigh from you.

“Welp…” He starts, but you're barely with him, losing yourself to his caress. Your pretty lips jut out in a pout when he halts in order to refasten your button. “Welp, if you change your mind, and wanna go for ice cream on the pier, or, well, do anything else instead; the code is ‘fuck this, let's get out of here’.”  

Your pout does not subside, even as he resumes massaging the stress from your muscles. Not until he leans in to kiss your shoulder blade and promises; “Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

[petalsscribbles]

22. until the end of time (final)

Yn waits at the meeting place, a nice spot in the park under falling petals of sakuras. Perhaps the dreamy, romantic atmosphere can somehow enchant Sunghoon into giving Yn a chance.

He put an effort and thought into his look to sway the odds in his favour. While he's almost sure his favourite reading spot will turn to a place of heartbreak, a reminder of a failed first love, he decided to not give up right away, so he foolishly granted himself a sliver of hope to cling to.

He sits anxiously on the bench, fidgeting with the small gift in his hands and going over his admitedly sappy speech. Perhaps he should've written it down. Or maybe even ask some kind of AI to write it for him. He's not here yet, maybe Yn can cancel last minute and ask to reschedule so he can prepa-

"Yn!"

Nevermind.

Sunghoon strides towards a petrified Yn, turn to stone by how needlessly handsome Sunghoon looks as if he just looked into the eyes of a medusa.

"Did you wait long?" He asks, sitting down too close for Yn's sanity's comfort.

"No. You're right on time."

"So, what are we doing? You were pretty cryptic about it." He states. he isn't wrong. Yn did ask him to meet at the most random time seemingly for no reason at all. Yn is sure Sunghoon is smart enough to know a surprise is coming.

Well, surprise is one way to put it. Yn would describe it more like a slap that came out of nowhere. Or maybe even an guerilla style ambush, depending on how appaled Sunghoon will be in a minute or two.

"There something I need to tell you." He says, getting up and picks a place in front of Sunghoon to stand on. He hands him the gift he prepared - small red box. Sunghoon opens it with warm yet slightly confused smile. There's a simple silver pendant inside, in the shape of the sickle moon.

"Yn, what is this?"

"I bought it because I noticed the Moon was always at this stage when some important things happened between us. The night I had a nightmare and you came to me, the night you kissed me, when I became your blood servant and..." He trails off and takes a deep breath to take the final leap.

"And?"

"And when I realized I have feelings for you."

"Y-you what?" Sunghoon asks and stands up so abruptly Yn takes a step back in surprise.

"I like you." He repeats, looking down on his feet. "I'm sorry."

Yn can't lie, he's a little mad that he wasted all the time coming up with a perfect confession for nothing, but at least the truth is out.

It hangs in the air between them, a big question mark burning right below it. Will Sunghoon accept his clumsy confession, or will he let him down?

Turns out neither option came true, because instead of talking Sunghoon invades Yn's space with one long stride. With his finger curled under Yn's chin, he makes him meet his eyes and connects their lips moments after.

It's very different from their kiss but not quite. It's all feelings and no passion, no lust or need but Yn feels butterflies in his stomach all the same.

Either way, it's the best answer Yn could hope for.

Much to Sunghoon's dismay, Yn pulls away the moment he hears someone approaching.

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume you like me too."

"God, you have no idea how much." He says, still sounding as if he can't believe the situation.

"I guess now we belong to each other completely."

A/n: another smau successfully and happily behind us. Thank you once again for all the love and support you've given Bitter Blood and I'll see you soon with lovesick Matthew in Intertwined <3

taglist CLOSED

@starchasing-cryptid @foxilsdenn @moonslie04 @kkurbys @winter-world @lonely-hearts-club-s2 @gnusihcom @dkmyman @mortifesboy @kkyoluv @teoluvsyou @bubblztaro @conwunder @xavi-in-kpopland @monstaxpuppy @gabrielllx @tarotarosung @livingsecret @onementally-unstabel-kid @axolotl04 @hwalleluja @lisaswifey @academiq @stargirl-library

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[psychics4unet]

A Love Letter from Your Future Spouse! 💌✨

Instructions: Look at the 3 images of the piles below. Choose the pile that you feel most drawn to. Trust your intuition and select the one that resonates with you the most. Once you have made your choice, scroll down to read the letter from your future spouse in the pile you selected.

I put a lot of effort into this reading, so please show some love by leaving comments, likes, reblogs, and follow me! ❤️💬✨🌟

Paid psychic reading (7 questions for just $7) is available here:

Pile 1 My Dearest Love, 💖

From the very moment I envisioned our life together, my heart overflowed with warmth and joy. You are my guiding star, illuminating the path to a future filled with love and laughter. 🌟 Each day, I find myself more enchanted by your beauty, both inside and out. Your kindness and compassion inspire me to be the best version of myself. Together, we will create a world where love flourishes, and dreams come true. I promise to cherish you, support you, and walk beside you through every adventure life brings our way. 🌈💫 I can't wait to hold you close and share countless memories together.

Forever yours, Your Future Spouse 💌

Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. 🌌 Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment!

Pile 2 My Beloved, 💞

As I sit down to write this letter, my heart swells with affection for you. I feel our connection in every beat, a rhythm that binds us across time and space. 🎶 You are the missing piece I’ve searched for, the love I never knew I needed. With you, I feel at home, secure, and cherished. 🏡 Our future is a canvas, and I can’t wait to paint it with beautiful moments, shared laughter, and deep conversations. You inspire me to chase my dreams, and I promise to encourage you to do the same. Together, we will create a love that grows stronger with each passing day.

Yours always, Your Future Spouse 💖

Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. 🌌 Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment!

Pile 3 My Sweetheart, 🌹

Every day, I find myself dreaming of you. I can feel the warmth of your embrace and hear the laughter we share. You are my heart’s desire, and I am grateful for every moment we will spend together. 🌈 With you, life is an adventure, and I can't wait to explore it hand in hand. 🌍 Your strength and passion inspire me to be courageous in all that I do. I promise to stand by you, to love you fiercely, and to celebrate every triumph and navigate every challenge together. Our love will be a beautiful journey, and I am so excited to travel it with you.

With all my love, Your Future Spouse 💌

Love this post? Spread the positive vibes by reblogging with your favorite pile number! Remember to like, comment, and follow me for more tarot insights and spiritual guidance. By sharing this post, you'll invite positive energy from the universe into your life. 🌌 Let's journey together towards enlightenment and fulfillment!

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best. Remember to reblog, like, comment, and follow for more cosmic guidance and positivity! 🌠💫

Paid readings (7 questions for just $7) are also available for more in-depth insights and personal guidance! 🌟💫

[levi-supreme]

Rei, Rei! How was the pregnancy with Renée? How did you deliver the news to Levi and maman heheh

Lots of hugs :3

🥰

Charlotte my precious I— 🥺💖 I adore you so much TAKE MY LOVE!!!!!!! I'm gonna answer this below the cut because knowing me, I'm going to go sappy and talk too much.

Warnings: Block the tags #levi x rei and #reivi to avoid the cringe. It's EXTREMELY cringey hehe. Also talks about pregnancy and all that jazz so. Don't mind me and my unhinged thoughts.

So. It happened after the events of Dance with Me. It was about two weeks after Levi's birthday, and then I got worried because my period wasn't here. I was paranoid because my period was always regular, so I felt something was up. Levi and I bought a home pregnancy test kit, and oh boy we were so damn nervous when we were waiting for the results. That five minutes of waiting felt like the longest five minutes ever. Levi kept pacing back and forth, and I was just sitting on the chair fidgeting around and..... nervously waiting for time to pass.

And then..... once five minutes were up, we checked the kit and.........

We saw it. Two lines. On the test kit.

It took us a while before we registered that oh. It's positive. It's a baby. WE'RE HAVING A BABY. WE'RE GOING TO BECOME PARENTS. And then Levi and I just hugged each other and cried because we never expected ourselves to be so lucky (like.. oh god. We hit the jackpot on our first try...? hehe >//<).

We didn't know what to do, so Levi called Hange to ask for help because they were a gynaecologist. Hange then arranged an appointment for us at the hospital they work at, and that's how Hange became our gynae hehe. And somehow, Hange got Moblit along too, so they were the first two to know about our pregnancy.

Levi and I decided to wait before telling Maman partly because of superstition haha, and also just to make sure every thing went well, because Hange told Levi that the first trimester is the most crucial time. Once we were sure that everything was going well, we asked Maman over for dinner one night. I was about 10 weeks pregnant and even though my bump was tiny, it was kinda obvious too. After dinner, we told Maman to join us in the living room, and then, Levi just... casually slid over a sonogram on the table XD

Maman was like "eh?" until she took a closer look and realised what it was 🥺 she was really happy for us too!! We all just hugged each other and wept tears of joy haha. And then... knowing my mother-in-law..... she casually commented, "is the baby a birthday baby?" and then Levi and I just went (●__●) because... uh... indeed the baby was the result of some hot steamy birthday s*x LOL. She touched my bump and guessed our baby is a girl XD

But yes!! Aunty Kuchel was so supportive during my pregnancy, and Levi was being so attentive to me too. This was our first child, and we were all so careful with everything. My morning sickness was pretty bad at first, and then it got better by the second trimester. We listened to every thing Hange and Moblit told us to do, and we even started to baby-proof our house. Levi even wanted to buy books on parenting and all that to read.

Deep down, I know he's scared and worried, because he grew up without a father, and he's afraid that he can't be a good father to our baby. I told him I didn't have confidence that I'll be a good mother too. No one is born a good parent, and we learn along the way. I told Levi that I had absolute faith that he's going to be the best Papa in the world.

Come 16 September 2016..... my contractions started in the afternoon. Levi was so worried, he flew me to the hospital where Hange and Moblit worked. I didn't tell Levi, but I was really scared. What was I afraid of? The pain? Perhaps. Levi stayed by my side throughout. He was also really nervous too, but he tried to hide it.

Come 10-ish pm or so... Hange said I was really close, and you know... it's the part where you keep going 'PUSH!!!!'. And let me tell you.....

Ow. The pain??????????? I angrily told Levi that I am never giving birth again. I clenched his hand so hard while I tried to push. And then, at past 11pm, Renée Naomi Ackerman was born 💖

When Hange passed her to me, and the moment I saw her, I felt like all the pain I went through was worth it. Levi and I brought a little angel to this world, and we are going to give her the best we can. Of course, there was lots of crying (from me XD). Levi tried to hide it, but I know he shed a few drops of tears too. Moblit told him to cut Renée's umbilical cord and Levi was like ????? hahaha. Moblit had to guide him on how to cut the umbilical cord and boy let me tell you.... that moment was so precious too.

As much as we don't show our children favouritism and bias, Levi and I both know that Renée will always be our favourite child haha, because she's a (literal) gift to us ❤️

----

Okay this is all for my little journey with Renée hehe. Of course, if you wanna know about the twins and/or baby Charlotte, then hehe let me know. I adore you a lot my darling Charlotte, and thank you for sending me this 💘

[riickgrimes]

it just really breaks my heart that most of the discourse has to focus on dying children in order to humanize palestinians as if fully grown adult human beings don’t also deserve your attention, empathy, respect, and care

[iceyrukia]

Women’s self-image is as negative as ever despite the “body positivity” wave of choice feminism. Why?

I think one of the biggest reasons as to why women’s beauty standards and self-image are worse than even is because you can preach about unfair beauty standards all you want and tell women not to make fun of another woman’s looks but you can’t take away the social status and praise that women who are “beautiful” get from society (both men and women). You give them clout and praise them. Something both “body positivity” and “body neutrality” feminists do btw despite all the talk about acceptance.

It’s like saying you don’t support the ethics behind a product and yet still consume and buy it. In this case “beauty” being a luxury achieved via consumerism where women become the products (objects) that other women admire and obsess over. There is a demand so there is a supply PERIOD.

Women might not directly pursue beauty (“I do it for myself”) for men but nonetheless it’s definitely ingrained as a sign of status and that’s enough to cause a negative self-image in women who don’t participate. Men might have been the original perpetrators of installing unrealistic beauty standards for women but the victims (women) have also turned into perpetrators who can’t let go of the misogynistic status symbol of having value from appearances because it’s considered “culture”.

[perilegs]

ok i might need to force myself to not romance astarion bc i don't want to know what it says about me to turn down karlach, the woman of my dreams, the character made to cater me personally, like, if she was real i'd bring the moon and stars down for the chance to see her smile, she's everything i've hoped for in a rpg companion, what does it say about me if i turn that down for someone like astarion

[curiosity-killed]

It is! Possible! That I may be being too hard on myself! Again!!!

[m4niackkyun]

Hi. (Announcement in the tags)

[ghaziyounes1967]

" This too shall pass "

I believe that good will always overcome evil, just as spring comes, and with it eternal life, overcoming the bitter cold of winter. We will overcome this genocide very soon with God's help and your continued help and support. One of the advantages we achieved during the war is to convey to you our voice, which has not been heard for many years, and to reveal the nature of this occupation and its actions that have been covered up for hundreds of years.

I would like to introduce you to my simple Palestinian family, who lived in peace in a very beautiful house consisting of a ground and upper floor and a charming garden that we renovated shortly before the war, but the occupation had a different opinion regarding the barbaric bombing of civilians and homes. The occupation destroyed our dear home, which reminded me of my father, the dearest person in the world. My life, may God have mercy on him. The occupation killed every happy and even sad memory by bombing our house.

This is my aunt with my younger brother Ahmed, in his last year of school before university. My aunt's house was next door to ours, and she had been single for years. She was not married, and since we are a small family, I have no uncles, It was always my duty to check on my aunt and provide her with everything from food, drink, medicine, and everything else. Before I went to university every day, I always liked to go there to have breakfast together, chat and get her approval before I went to my studies. every memories the occupation destroyed it.

This our beloved home before and after Israeli bombing 💔

My priority is to help this kind old woman, when the Rafah crossing is opened, to leave the Gaza Strip safely for Egypt. I do not care about the homes destroyed by the occupation. Money can be compensated, but the soul cant be compensated. Iwant to see my aunt again. I want her to be with us again. This is really what I want. I want to send her money so that she can support herself in the northern Gaza Strip. The prices are crazy, folks, especially the food prices.

this is my friend Ali Al-Tababi, and my name is Ghazi Sheto, he was closer to me than many people in my family. I met Ali at university, and we had a goal: to graduate and work together. I will stay up all night to make this dream come true. He was always at my house, playing, studying, sleeping together and going to university together. We were conjoined twins. Ali and all his family members they are all died because of Israeli bombing.You can see the massacre of the Tabatabai family. May God have mercy on them all. I want to fulfill my dream and my friend’s dream and bring my aunt to Egypt and build my house again if possible.

We asked for 30 thousand as compensation, less than a little for what we lost in the war. Frankly, our homes cost half a million dollars, but I asked for 30 thousand so that I could bring my aunt and protect her soul from being killed and so that she could do that. Come to Egypt safely and give her food and drink while she is stuck in northern Gaza, but unfortunately I have only collected $500 so far.

These donations will go to my aunt, the old woman stranded in the northern Gaza Strip, to give her the opportunity to travel, protect her life from being killed, and secure her daily sustenance of food and nutrition. I ask everyone who can help, do not hesitate, because we really need help. Thank you all, and I hope you don't suffer as I do. We suffered, especially my weak aunt.

i Hope you all good thanks you for our support towards our cause 🙏🤍

[attractthecrows]

man i'd really like for revallen to encounter the ghost of his father but with his skillset it's just not likely

[saintobio]

RIDE OR DIE .ᐟ

in a world where horsepower meets heartstrings, and bookstore meet-cutes lead to motorcycle mishaps, you soon realize that opposites do attract in ways that blur the line between fiction and reality.

▞▞ PAIRINGS. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ GENRE. fluff, smut, established relationship, biker boy x book girl au, 18+

▞▞ TAGS. biker!kuna, backpack!reader, profanity, reckless driving, mentions of violence (not to reader), bruises, police, fellatio, cunnilingus, protected, explicit smut, sukuna being a cute bf

▞▞ NOTES. 8.3k word count. my biker!kuna fics are unstoppable atp 😮‍💨 and as an irl writer gf to a biker bf, this is a very self-indulgent fic. got lazy with the smut so i copied bits from my other gojo oneshot. reblogs are highly appreciated <3

▞▞ INSPOS. my fav biker boys on biketok: that10r, dylan.r.one, raven.coop, onyx_r7, senor_torque, blacchornets, aushendrivessafe, tiiidddooo, bongo & takaro 🖤🏍️💨

After dating you for six months, Sukuna realized that nothing in the world could capture your attention like your cherished collection of fictional books—except, of course, him. But before he entered the picture, you were always immersed in solitary bliss at the cafe or library, lost in the intricate worlds of your latest literary fascination to the point where it was almost impossible to pull you out of it. 

Yet, it became an unspoken understanding between you both; he respected your need for uninterrupted reading time, allowing you to lose yourself in stories populated by your favorite characters, while in return, you supported his desire for a thrilling experience of riding his bike despite the inherent risks that came with it. 

He vividly remembered the first time he saw you while riding his bike through the city. You were crossing the street then, carrying a bag of books you had just bought from Barnes & Noble, and the sight of you in a cute sundress had him completely distracted from the road. So in an attempt to catch your attention, he revved his bike to ‘flex’. But in his effort to impress, he missed the red light and had to brake abruptly, causing him to lose control and drop his bike to the ground. 

That was the very first time he had ever dropped his precious R1 after a year of riding it. If it had been his old R7, he wouldn’t have cared as much, but his R1—his expensive, still-on-the-loan, matte black, fully customized R1—hit the pavement along with him. For bikers, these kinds of things hurt.

Now, talk about embarrassing. You even stopped to look at him in concern that day and if only you could see his blushing face behind his helmet. But at least, looking back at your meet-cute, he could tell you that he did, in fact, fall for you. Literally.

And there can’t be anything truer than that.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Choso remarked, gesturing his chin towards you with a teasing grin as they dismounted their bikes at the parking lot. You were there sitting in a cafe with a book on your lap, unaware that you were being conversed about by these two men right outside.

Sukuna jabbed him on the side and motioned for him to stop staring. “Fuck off. She’s mine.”

As Choso lifted his helmet, a group of girls outside the cafe couldn’t help but swoon over the two bikers, whispering and commenting on how hot and attractive they looked. And being the fucker that he was, completely absorbed in the attention from the girls, Choso had momentarily forgotten about Sukuna as he swaggered towards them with a confident smirk, glancing back at his friend and playfully raising his eyebrows.

“You go ahead. I’ll go check out the scenery,” Choso said in his usual mischief, “Unless you want to join me?”

Sukuna, still sporting his helmet, smugly showed him a picture of you as his phone’s home screen. “Sorry, already got my hands full with my princess.”

“Whatever. Tell Y/N I said hi,” Choso replied with a chuckle, before turning his attention back to the admiring group of girls.

You sat in your customary corner of the cafe, near the window, with a barely touched cup of coffee before you. Your attention was still and all riveted to the pages of your current book, remaining oblivious to the world around you as it looked like you were just getting to the good part of the storyline. Sukuna decided it would be a charming surprise to approach you as he entered the cafe, his arrival catching the eye of another group of girls who noticed him immediately, but he ignored their glances when he made his way towards your small area.

In his usual black leather jacket, Sukuna pulled a chair backward and straddled it, casually resting his arms on the backrest. With both legs on either side, he settled in, observing you intently behind his black helmet. A faint smirk played on his lips as he quietly watched you absorbed in your reading, and for now, he said nothing and enjoyed the moment silently.

He gave it a minute or so for you to realize. 

5… 4… 3… 2… “L-Lovey?” By the time you finally noticed his presence, you saw your widened eyes at his reflective visor when you looked up at him. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Sukuna pushed the button to lift his visor, revealing his narrow eyes that were locked onto yours. He had that boyish grin sitting handsomely on his lips.

As for you, you looked like you were blushing. That, or perhaps there was some sort of fluttering happening inside your heart at the unexpected sight of him. It was probably taking you a moment to separate fiction from reality, because not long ago, you were too fixated on the fictional boy written on the pages of your book. Now, your very real and actual boyfriend was here. For you. “Um… How long have you been there?”

“Not that long,” he assured in his usual low, velvet voice. “I just arrived, actually. Didn’t wanna disturb my baby.”

Your curious eyes fell on the red tribal decals on his black Nexx SX100r helmet, reminding you of the same face tattoo designs he had mentioned wanting to get, but you were refusing to let him have. “New helmet?”

Sukuna nodded, smirking as he tapped the headgear with his gloved hand. “Yeah, you like it?”

“I do,” you replied, smiling. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

You glanced at his sleek black Yamaha R1 outside the window and immediately closed your chosen book for the day. “Okay, well…” You met his gaze again. “I have backpack duties today, don’t I?”

He was quick to dismiss it. “No, no. You can finish reading. I don’t mind just sittin’ here and watching you for a while.”

But, being the stubborn girl you were, you were already packing your book into your bag. You didn’t even listen to a word he said. “Did you bring my helmet?”

“‘Course, princess. Your helmet’s right there strapped onto the backseat.” Your boyfriend leaned in closer and pointed to his sportbike. Just as he took your bag from you, his eyes lingered on your lips for a moment. “So, you’re gonna be my pretty little backpack today?”

You mustn’t have realized it, but the two of you had become the subject of envious stares in the cafe. Most of the girls who looked your way were clearly jealous. Yet your cute, clueless self didn’t even seem to notice as you clung to his arm. “Yes, lovey. I miss being your backpack.” 

Did you know? Sukuna always melted from your enthusiasm. And he couldn’t even resist pinching your cheeks. “Alright, then.” His hand moved to squeeze your nose. “I'll be your personal chauffeur, and you’ll be my cute little backpack who’s clinging tightly to me the whole time. Sounds good?”

“Yessir,” you answered with a playful salute. 

“Good girl.” He then took your hand in his, leading you out of the cafe and onto the parking lot when he all of a sudden felt a tug on his arm. 

You had a visible pout displayed. “Lovey, wait!” 

“What is it, baby?” The question came out of him softly, tilting his head when he looked at you. 

“My kiss,” you said sweetly, making Sukuna feel like Cupid shot an arrow to his heart. “You forgot.”

How can one person be so unbelievably adorable? Just how? How on Earth did he land the cutest girl on the planet? The cuteness aggression was certainly urging him to fall on his knees right now. With the weakness he tried to restrain inside, he was trying his hardest to laugh it off on the outside. “Oh damn, you’re right.” He pulled his helmet up, leaning in forward to place a warm, tender kiss on your soft lips. He could hear the hearts of the surrounding girls breaking at the sight. “Can’t believe I forgot to give my baby the most important item of the day.” 

Satisfied with the kiss, you followed your tattooed boyfriend like a shadow to meet his bike, ‘Fury’, as he affectionately named it. The sportbike rocked a midnight black wrap and the cool customizations he added made it a standout even more. Of course, what kind of person would think Sukuna would stick with a boring base design? One of the best things about his R1 was its front light, infamous in the bike community, as it resembled a menacing face that added to its aggressive allure. It was also equipped with a powerful 998cc inline-four engine, leaving no questions why ‘Fury’ roared with a throaty exhaust note that echoed through the streets. Sukuna chuckled inwardly at the thought. He hoped you wouldn’t mind, but this big bad boy would have been the love of his life if you hadn’t come along. 

“Love, I was thinking,” you interrupted his trance as he slipped the smaller helmet over your head, deftly securing the straps under your chin, “Do you think we can swing by the bookstore on the way?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Sure, we can. You wanna pick up more books to read?”

“I do,” you confirmed, yet hesitated at the end of your tone. “Well, there’s this book I wanna read, but… it has eighteen plus stuff.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow in intrigue, his visor still up as he effortlessly lifted you onto the back of his bike with one arm. “Oh, so it’s a spicy book, huh?” he teased, recalling the discussions he had seen on ‘biketok’ where he went by the username r1.skn. His TikTok account was an unexpected blend of motorcycle enthusiasts and book lovers, and that unique intersection of interests amused him endlessly. “Think my followers would love to know what my backpack’s gonna read next.” 

Even with your helmet on, he could sense the shy smile behind it. “No, please don’t film our ride today!”

“Hmm… What kind of spicy book are we talking about, baby?” he asked, settling onto his bike and revving the engine. When your arms were securely wrapped around his torso, he took that as a go signal to hold the throttle and smoothly shift from first to second gear. “Is it very naughty?”

You hugged him tightly from behind. “Um, it’s about this biker guy and a bookish girl,” you introduced the plot coyly, “And yes, it has some steamy scenes.”

He glanced at you through the bike’s mirror, ensuring that you were safe and secured behind him. Sukuna then shifted into third gear as you entered an empty road, gradually picking up speed. The roar of his bike was louder than his voice. “Really? I bet the biker guy is a dominant one.”

“Yeah.” Your grip tightened on his compression shirt, almost as if you were trying to feel his abs through the fabric. “He’s got tattoos, too.”

What a tease. “You better picture me as that biker guy when you read that book, princess,” he playfully warned, “You’re mine, both in real life and in your fantasies.”

“Yes, but my lovey is hotter.” 

“Good response, baby. You have taste.” 

As you reached the stoplight in the city intersection, Sukuna slowed down and adjusted the small camera mounted on his bike to make sure it still had the perfect angle of you two. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he now had evidence of how touchy his cute, little backpack could get. You sensed him filming your interaction, but instead of pulling your hand away, you leaned further against his back and playfully touched his toned chest. He was surprised and amused at the action, gently pulling your hand down when your silly hands squeezed his chest, but you remained undeterred by placing them near his crotch the next. Your boyfriend hoped to God that none of the surrounding cars were recording you two for your affectionate display in the middle of the traffic. 

“Brat,” he teased back with a shake of his head. “A brat who always gets what she wants, especially in bed.”

Your whine followed, along with a light slap on his arm. “Hey!” 

Why was this red light taking too long? He was getting all bricked up the more he could feel your tits pressing against his back. Although, he considered it a blessing and curse, because the only distraction that was served to you two was when another bike pulled up ahead of cars lined up behind you. It was a white Kawasaki ZX-10R. And its owner? A jerk who had a clear death wish. 

“Hey there, sexy,” catcalled the rider of the 10R, stopping exactly where he could see your rear. “Cute helmet.” 

Sukuna knew you well enough to know that you were offering an uncomfortable, yet polite smile underneath the helmet. But it was the tug at your boyfriend’s shirt that made him glance over the biker with a hint of warning in his eyes. “What’d you say?” His voice carried a menacing edge. While he hadn’t been in a brawl in a while, he definitely didn’t mind the idea of one now. “Back off my girl or I’ll smash your head on the ground.” 

The ZX-10R rider chuckled, hands in the air like an idiot. “Alright, man. No harm meant.” 

“Shut it.” 

“Okay, jeez! How about a little race to settle things? See who’s got the faster ride?”

Sukuna scoffed, finding it hard to believe that a random guy, especially an obvious amateur, had the audacity to challenge him to a race. Didn’t he know? Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t nicknamed the King of the Streets for nothing. He had been riding motorcycles for twelve years now, starting with a modest 300cc and graduating to his current 1000cc superbike. His riding experience was unmatched. He also knew every biker in the area as it was his turf. Yet this ZX-10R rider had appeared out of nowhere with such laughable confidence. 

Thanks to him, your boyfriend’s competitive spirit was ignited. “You’re on.”

“Cool,” the other biker replied.

Meanwhile, you tensed behind Sukuna and gripped his shirt tighter than before. “Love, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He turned his head, gently held the top of your head, and gave you a sweet ‘helmet kiss’. “I’ll keep you safe,” he reassured, “Just hold on tight for me, okay?”

As soon as the light turned green, best believe the street became a racetrack. All the cars were left behind to dust with the roar of motorcycles as both bikers increased their speed, side by side, in a fierce race. Sukuna shifted into third gear as he passed the next intersection, then into fourth gear when the ZX-10R caught up to him. He could feel your hold around him tightening more than ever as the rush of the wind blew through your helmet’s visor.

He thought you might hate it, but you were surprisingly loving the thrill of the scene. 

“Go, baby!” you cheered, holding onto him for dear life. Cute. 

“Not bad, man!” the other biker shouted over the wind, pulling ahead slightly at Sukuna’s moment of distraction. “But try harder!”

Tch. Sukuna gritted his teeth and focused all his senses on the road ahead. He weaved through traffic, maneuvering his bike skillfully and taking advantage of every opportunity to gain ground. In no time, he caught up with the ZX-10R rider, and they soon raced neck and neck. They exchanged glances as they sped between cars, with the other vehicles blurring around them in motion. The thrill of the competition fueled their adrenaline, while you, as the passenger, felt your heart pounding with excitement.

Both bikes continued to zoom down the road. And it was also during that time when Sukuna locked his mind and body into analyzing the situation. Let’s see, he thought, should I push Fury to its limits?

He calculated his next move, feeling the strong breeze on his face and the vibrations of the powerful engine beneath him. The ZX-10R rider was good, but Sukuna knew he had the skills and the bike to outpace him. He just needed to time it right. Between a ZX-10R and an R1, a quick Google search would tell you that the 10R pulls faster than an R1 engine wise. While both bikes were top-tier, high performance vehicles with a 200 horsepower and a top speed exceeding 180mph, the 10R’s disadvantage is being 7 kg heavier, which instantly gave Sukuna an edge in this situation. Being the lighter bike between the two would certainly make him marginally better at handling and acceleration. 

With that, your boyfriend capitalized on his bike’s strengths and shifted into sixth gear at the next intersection, surging ahead and crossing the finish line just as the ZX-10R was left stuck at the last stoplight.

Sweet, sweet victory. Sukuna sped onto the freeway, shouting triumphantly into the air. “Woohoo!” He could feel the jolt of adrenaline satiating his need for a thrilling ride. 

“B-Babe.” You, on the other hand, tugged at his shirt in worry. “Babe, we’re going too fast. The cops—!”

The sound of the siren snapped Sukuna back to reality in an instant. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, frustrated by the abrupt interruption. “Can’t even have a minute to celebrate my win.” 

While he could have engaged in a high-speed freeway chase if he wanted to, especially having already escaped the police once, having you with him now made him opt for better judgment. His promise to keep you safe was his foremost priority here. So, swallowing his pride with a tightened jaw, he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road as the police car trailed behind.

The officer swiftly exited his vehicle and approached you two. “Evening, folks,” the stern voice of the elderly officer broke the tension. “License and registration, please.”

Sukuna retrieved his wallet and handed over his license and registration, then turned to you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. He could tell his poor little backpack was feeling anxious. 

The cop then glanced between you and Sukuna, his gaze lingering on you with concern. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, his focus more on your well-being than on the biker himself.

You nodded, trying to appear composed despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. “Yes, officer. I’m fine.”

The officer soon directed his attention to the R1. “What’s the fastest you’ve been on this thing?”

Sukuna couldn’t resist a cheeky reply. “Speed limit.”

“Very funny,” said the unamused officer, who retreated to his vehicle to run Sukuna’s information while leaving you and your boyfriend to exchange glances once more.

His expression softened. “Sorry about this, babe. I didn’t mean to get us in trouble.”  

“It’s okay.” You reassured him with a squeeze around his waist. “I trust you.”

Interrupting the tender moment, the officer returned and handed back your boyfriend’s license. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked, receiving a shrug in response. A lecture that Sukuna heavily hated soon followed. “You were speeding back there. I clocked you going 20 miles over the limit. It’s always you fellas with the 1000cc bikes who think they’re invincible. Even 600cc guys are scared of the police. You need to slow down, especially with a passenger.”

With your insistent look, Sukuna nodded to the cop, apologetically. “Understood, sir.” 

The officer studied Sukuna for a moment before releasing a sigh. “Look, I get it. It’s a nice night for a ride. Just remember, it’s not just your life on the line. You’ve got someone else to think about.” He pointed at you while handing your boyfriend a ticket. “You’ve gotta take good care of her.” 

Only then did Sukuna’s cold mien soften up with the cop. “I’ll be careful next time, officer.”

“Right. I’m letting you off with a warning this time, but I’m writing you a ticket for speeding. Slow down, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The officer returned to his car, and Sukuna pocketed the ticket with a mixture of relief and frustration etched on his face. “We didn’t get to pass by your bookstore,” he lamented, giving you an affectionate caress on the back. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You touched your headgear to his, sharing a helmet kiss. “There’s always next time,” you reassured him with a smile in your voice. “Besides, this is a real-life experience that no book can ever give me.”

~~

By the time you arrived at your apartment, darkness had already settled in, leaving a cozy glow from the distant cityscape as you switched on the lights and placed your helmet on the nearby console table. Immediately, your British shorthair cat dashed toward you with a loud meow, his pretty auburn eyes gleaming with excitement at seeing his mom.

“Hi, Casper,” you cooed at the feline, but his attention swiftly turned when Sukuna entered your apartment a few minutes later—someone he clearly wasn’t fond of.

Upon spotting Sukuna, your cat hissed, expressing his displeasure toward your boyfriend, who playfully stuck his tongue out in response. “I’m back, asshole.”

“Don’t call him that!” You chuckled, attending to Casper by mixing up his food in his bowl. “He’s probably never going to warm up to you at this rate.”

Sukuna smoothly removed his jacket and flopped down on the couch. “Boo! Casper sucks,” he hooted, cupping his hands around his mouth, “He’s just jealous because you love me more.”

It had been a while since Casper had seen Sukuna since you were the one coming over at his place more often. Still, the cat’s disdain for your boyfriend persisted, and you suspected it was because Casper could detect the scent of Sukuna’s dog, a large Doberman, whenever he was near. You can only imagine how crazy your household would be should you and your boyfriend move in together in the near future. 

For now, his occasional visits sufficed. Although, there were days when his presence in your apartment stirred more thoughts in your mind than just simple cuddles and movie nights. How could you help it? He was oblivious to the thoughts running in your head as he sat lazily on your couch, his legs spread wide, lifting his compression shirt just above his sweaty chest. His toned abs were impossible to ignore, especially as he ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily.

“Babe, it’s so hot,” he said, fanning his face, completely unaware of the chaos inside your head. “Wanna shower before bed?”

His suggestion was innocent enough, but your immediate agreement was driven by a different kind of excitement. “Okay,” you replied with a sheepish grin, “I’ll see if you have any clothes left in the closet.”

You see, you and Sukuna had just started dating a few months ago—precisely 6 months and 3 weeks to be exact, so the relationship was definitely still fresh and vulnerable. But needless to say, while he was indeed a sweet and dreamy boyfriend that you could only ever read about in your stash of fictional books, there was also a side of him that awakened the more mature side of you. 

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Sukuna was more experienced in the intimacy department than you. And him being your first did bring in thoughts of inadequacy in terms of your performance in bed. You haven’t done it enough to call yourself a pro, but you also did it enough to say that you already knew what, how, and where to please him the most. You owe that experience to the multitude of smut scenes you had read about on Tumblr and AO3, because those exact stories provided essential insights that guided your actions on your first time.

Now, whenever the sexy beast within you was unleashed, you didn’t even hold back anymore. 

The shower was already running when you stepped inside the small space, your boyfriend letting the cold water fall on his naked tattooed body in rivulets. Each drop of water sounded like rainfall, and with him pulling you closer by the arm, he began kissing you with a passion that made it feel like you were caught in a rainstorm.

“Lovey!” You giggled, pushing your palms flat against his chest. “You said we’ll just shower.” 

“You know what I meant by that, baby.” 

The water continued to cascade down your skin, your hair now damp and your body now wet. Sukuna’s eyes darkened in lust as eyed you up and down, his hands tracing the curves of your body, before crashing his lips back onto yours once more. This time, his kisses were more aggressive as he bit your lower lip, and took the opportunity of shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He was devouring you with rough and wide movements, allowing your tongue to roll around his in a playful tangle. And with his fingers now grabbing a fistful of your hair, and his other hand sliding down your chest to squeeze your breast, you felt a stretch on your scalp when he pulled you by the hair to look up at him. “You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” he teased, kneading your right breast before his hand moved south to palm your dripping cunt, “Deep down, you’re just as naughty and wicked as me.” 

“N-No.” Your breath hitched when his lips traced light kisses around your neck. But it wasn’t just his kisses and touch that made your knees weak, it was the feeling of his hardened member pressed against your stomach, fully erect and ready to be inside you. “Mmh… You’re the naughty one.” 

Sukuna went in for another open-mouthed kiss before he nibbled on your earlobe. “I don’t deny that, princess,” he pivoted your body around, and made you lean against the glass wall so he could get a better view of your buttocks. While you, you could see your tits pressed against the glass from your reflection in the mirror, a sight that your boyfriend went absolutely crazy for when he looked up. “Ah, fuck. That’s so hot.” 

You could feel his fingers playing with your entrance from behind, and you watched him bite his lip through the mirror, his eyes dancing in lust as he wantonly stared at your body. “Ngh,” you bit back a moan, the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance making you curl your toes, “I… I-I like that.” 

“I bet you do, baby.” Good lord. His voice was deep and raspy, and the sexiness of it was enough to make you wet. He even showed you evidence per se, when he pulled his digits out, spreading two fingers apart to show you the clear, slimy substance that coated it. You were already a blushing mess when he showed you your cum, and felt the heat in your cheeks worsening as you watched him, eye-to-eye, suck your juices from his fingers. “Aww, my baby tastes sweet.” 

“It’s the pineapple juice,” you joked, allowing him to cup your jaw and place a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “Mmm—I forgot to tell you.” You pulled away to look at your boyfriend. “I’m ovulating.” 

Sukuna tilted his head, squeezing your bum tenderly as he replied, “Are you suggesting I get you pregnant?”

“No, silly!” You chuckled shyly while he positioned himself behind you. “I was trying to say that I get extra horny when I’m ovulating.” 

He smiled, aroused more than ever as he heard you say those words out loud. “Too bad, I was thinking of creampie-ing you.” 

A gasp flew out of your lips when Sukuna’s long, slender fingers performed circular motions on your clitoris, stretching your labia apart so he could insert two fingers at your entrance. “B-Babe!” Your widened eyes were in great contrast to his lust-filled ones as he found entertainment at your submission to pleasure. You gripped his wrist and tiptoed when he started scissoring his fingers inside, forcing you to raise your leg so he could continue to move his hand in and out of your sopping cunt. “Ahh—ah! S-Sukuna!”

He hadn’t heard his name from you in awhile and he found that amusing. “Hm, baby? Saying something?” 

You squeezed your legs together to hide the clench that you were feeling inside, looking up at his crazed brown eyes and tracing his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You couldn’t hold it anymore, you were a willing slut ready to be pounded on by this tattooed man. “Please, f-fuck me.”

He reattached his lips back onto yours and pulled away just enough to keep your foreheads connected. “Not yet, baby girl.” A sly smirk spread off his lips. “That book you were reading earlier at the cafe,” he began, pulling his fingers away to turn you around, “It was smut, wasn’t it?” 

Feeling a wave of embarrassment as he brought it up, you responded with a coquettish smile. “Maybe.” 

Sukuna then pushed you down on your knees, letting you kneel down in front of his hard, veiny cock. He had stroked himself a few times—his other hand lifting your chin up—before he slapped his length against your lips. “Think you can show me how they did it in that book?” 

“Why…” you trailed off, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping the long, meaty shaft before placing your tongue on top of the swollen tip. He was all crazed and aroused when you kept eye-contact and started putting his member inside your mouth.

“Damn.” Your boyfriend threw his head back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s make all your fantasies a reality, baby.” 

Well, he was sweet for that. But also mischievous, too. He knew you could be just as naughty as him because he had seen the books you were reading and most of them were definitely far from innocent. Could he blame you? Sometimes, reading about it was better than experiencing it. Yet with your boyfriend’s ego, he wasn’t one to allow your fictional men to be better than him in all aspects. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually.

You let him guide your hand into stroking his shaft before you ejected spit on the pink head, using it to lubricate his aching member while you lowered yourself further to fit his firm balls inside your mouth. It gave you utmost pleasure to hear his guttural moans when you swirled your tongue around his bollocks—tasting the same flesh that carried all of his sperm, and releasing it from your mouth to give his cock the same attention. At first, you kissed his swollen tip and treated it like a lollipop, then you started sucking every inch of his length by bobbing your head at a stable rhythm. “Mmm.” You could hear curses leaving his pretty lips as he held your head in place, snapping his hips forward until you were gagging from the intense penetration on your throat.

You learned all these after a single read at your favorite 18+ book.  

“That’s a good girl.” His praise rang in your ears like a sweet melody.

Even without a reflection to look at, this was the most erotogenic exchange you two had ever done as a couple. And along with that, his half lidded eyes were staring down at you, judging you and your every move. 

You did your best to give him a stellar performance, did your most at pleasuring his member, and did everything that he liked whenever you were sucking his cock. And just like that, thick ropes of cum were sent straight down your throat. The musky, metallic taste didn’t stop you from swallowing all of his seed and you had to show your tongue to make him know that you did a good job at taking all of his semen. Nothing was wasted.

Not even time, because as soon as you finished giving him a blowjob, he was already carrying you out of the bathroom without drying yourselves off. You were thrown into your double bed, manhandled into spreading your legs apart before your animalistic lover plunged his face onto your pussy.

“S-Sukuna—! Mmm—fuck!”

He had your back arching because of how deep his tongue was going inside, tasting your walls and kissing your cunt like he would do with your mouth. He was smooching off your labia like a hungry beast, eating you out as if he wasn’t satisfied by the juices that he was sucking from you. You were already in your seventh heaven, unable to think straight when he added his middle finger to the movements of his tongue. If fingering your pussy and lapping your clitoris weren’t enough to drive you crazy, maybe grabbing a fistful of pinkish hair was a sign for him to stop before you could truly lose it. You could feel fire pooling on your lower abdomen and your legs were already shaking uncontrollably, your toes curling wantonly—with the suction he was doing on your cunt, you ended up screaming for his name and engulfing his mouth with your Earth-shattering release.

“Haah! ‘Kuna, p-please…”

As he detached his mouth from your entrance, he started climbing up, visibly pleased with the way he ravaged your cunt. He was wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, pressing his lips down on yours to make you taste your own fluid. A string of saliva connected your mouth to his before he grabbed ahold of his erect member once again. It hadn’t even been more than two minutes and you were already being hauled into another position. “Let me fuck you from behind.”

“Lovey, w-wait.”

“Ass up, baby.” His patience was growing thin when he dragged your body by raising your hips close to his crotch and pressing your head down against the mattress. Your boyfriend cared none for the embarrassment that settled on your heated cheeks when he spread your buttocks apart so he could ogle at the exact hole that he was about to enter. 

“No, wait!” you begged, looking up at him with a plea, “Condom, please.” 

The realization hit his face. “I think I’m all out, baby. Let me check,” he said, pulling away and stumbling towards his discarded pants on the floor, hoping desperately that he would find an unused packet of condom. Just to his luck, he had one more packet hidden between the folds of his leather wallet. “Got it!” 

He hastily ripped the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out, and rolling it slowly to cover his entire length. You remained on all fours, watching him as he ejected spit on his fingers, which he soon used to lubricate your entrance. 

Did he give you any time to adjust? That word didn’t even exist in his vocabulary when he sunk all seven inches inside of your cunt, wrecking you open to the point where you could feel a stinging sensation on your entrance after being stretched by his fully erect cock. “Best pussy in the entire world.”

You were suppressing your moans from coming out too loud while you bit on a pillow, nails digging on the sheets as your lover penetrated your tight vaginal walls. “Ahh! M-More… More.” He was treating you like a fleshlight as he continued to rut your sopping cunt with his fat cock, absolutely enjoying how your warm pussy was milking his full length.

“Can your fictional boys fuck you like this, baby?” he breathed, all deep and velvety as he gave you the most rhythmical skin-slapping thrusts. He was so deep in your cavern that you could feel the base of his cock slamming against your ass. You didn’t even notice the hand that was snaking on your front to massage your bouncing tit because you were far too lost in the shockwaves of sexual gratification. “No other man can fuck you this good.”

It was like he was riding his own bike. With how fast his pace was increasing, you were already too limp to feel his hard thrusts.

Your brain was short-circuiting from the amount of sensation that was entering your body, intoxicated by the waves of libido in your system that was heightening more and more as he continued to satisfy your insatiable heat. You could barely think straight. You lost your sanity. All the modest parts of you had completely dissolved into a bitch in heat. Like a needy little whore. You didn’t even have any control of your own words when you started telling Sukuna, “I… want… you to keep… fucking me… like this.” Another forceful slam elicited a mewl out of you. “A-Aah! Haah!”

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Your boyfriend held a tighter grip on your hips, your moaning face leaving an imprint on his mind as he propelled your body forward and raced towards his ecstasy. After yet another thrust or two, or three, or four… Spurts of warm seed started exploding into the rubber. Sukuna’s thrust had become unsteady, his body falling down on the bed but his member still remaining inside of you. “I can’t get enough of your pussy, baby.” 

You were catching your breath after he broke your mind into becoming this sex-obsessed freak. “Lookie! My bed’s all wet now.” 

He smiled and finally pulled out, only to lean down again and plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let me carry you to the couch,” he offered, but first he had to pull the condom out of his cock to reveal a cum-filled rubber. “Christ. I came a lot.” 

In other words, his cum would have been dripping out of your pussy for days.

You extended your arms, awaiting to be lifted like a princess by your lover. “Carry me now, please!”

“I will, baby.” Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his tattooed arms. He, too, was heavy breathing, but he still effortlessly held you. “I’ll take care of cleaning your sheets while you sleep.”

He was already walking towards the living room as you kicked your feet in the air, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. “Can you clean out Casper’s litter box, too?”

Sukuna made a face of disgust, glancing at the cat before gently setting you down on the couch. “Only if he stops being an asshole,” he joked, but your pleading expression melted his resolve. “Alright, fine. I’ll take care of your bed, your cat’s litter... what else? You’re lucky I love you, you know.” He moved to the window, drawing the curtains closed to shield you from prying eyes. “Do you think your neighbors saw us fuck earlier? I forgot to pull the curtains on your bedroom.”

You laughed, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. “Well, there’s this couple that’s been giving me strange looks lately, so it definitely isn’t the first time they’ve seen us do it.”

“It’s like that movie we watched,” Sukuna mused, trying to recall the title.

“The Voyeurs!” you both exclaimed in unison, sharing a laugh before you gestured to him. “Get dressed, lovey!”

Sukuna returned to tuck you in under the thin sheets, leaning down to give you a peck on the lips. “And you get some rest now, baby.”

~~

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you woke up, stretching lazily in bed to find Casper purring next to you. That’s strange, you thought. Your cat normally wouldn’t go near you when your boyfriend was around, so you turned to your side, expecting to find Sukuna still sleeping beside you, but the spot was empty. Confused, you glanced around the room, noticing that his motorcycle gear was also missing from its usual place. 

“Lovey?” you called out through the empty apartment. “Where are you?” 

With no response received, you walked towards your bedroom and found the sheets had been changed and everything was tidy. Searching the bathroom yielded no clues to Sukuna’s whereabouts either. And a quick trip downstairs to check his usual parking spot confirmed your suspicion—he had left without a word. 

You frowned, reaching for your phone to send him an annoyed text.

YOU: love, where are you? 

YOU: i’m not some kind of booty call that you can just leave the next morning without a say

The minutes ticked by as you waited for a reply, feeling a mix of frustration and worry because of his absence. Were you overthinking this? Perhaps he was just out to get you lunch. Or maybe he had an emergency. You tried to calm yourself down by breathing deeply and thinking of any possible explanation other than the worst-case scenario. Maybe his phone died, or he got caught up in something urgent. But after an hour of no response, worry began to gnaw at you. Did he just ghost me? 

“Oh, God.” You paced back and forth in your apartment, checking your phone repeatedly for any sign of a message or call from Sukuna. “Oh, God. Oh, God! I’ve read about this a lot. Why are guys such jerks?” 

You tried to rationalize his absence, hoping for a reasonable explanation, but your mind persisted racing through various scenarios, with each one more disheartening than the last. Maybe he’d gotten tired of you, or perhaps he was scared of commitment. The frustration and confusion were almost unbearable. Was the sex last night not good enough for him? 

That situation lasted the entire afternoon. And you wanted to rip your hair out at the fact that your boyfriend had been gone for hours, his phone unreachable, and his friends having no idea where he was.  

So as the evening approached and your anxiety grew, you decided to call Sukuna again. It was the 47th missed call. But just as you were about to dial his number once more, you heard the familiar roar of his R1.

“What the hell.” You rushed to the window and saw your boyfriend pulling into the parking area. Relief flooded your system as you watched him switch off the engine, dismount his bike, and walk leisurely towards your apartment building’s lobby like he didn’t just leave an anxious girlfriend without a note the morning after he fucked her brains out.

You waited for him to arrive at your doorstep, your heart calmer but still ticking with anxiety as the clock rang in your ears. You were ready to give him a lashing for being unresponsive to your texts and calls. But as the door swung open, your boyfriend knowing your passcode by heart, you didn’t expect that your anger at him would end up being for a totally different reason. 

Because there he was, standing by your door looking slightly disheveled but with a sheepish smile on his face. He held a Barnes & Noble bag in one hand.

“Hey, baby—”

“What the heck happened?” You rushed to him, noticing the scrapes and bruises on his face. “Are you okay? I was worried sick!” 

Sukuna removed his helmet and winced slightly, the corner of his lower lip was smeared with dried blood. “Sorry, my love,” he spoke softly, going in for a comforting hug, “I wanted to surprise you, but things got a little complicated.” 

You pulled away to touch his bruised cheek. “You’re hurt. Why aren’t you answering my texts?” 

“Phone’s dead,” he answered, showing you his lifeless phone before handing over the bag. “And this is for you, my beautiful princess.”

Taking the bag, you said, “You didn’t have to do this.” Then your eyes scanned his face for any sign of serious injury.

“I wanted to,” he insisted, his voice filled with affection despite his exhaustion. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

You eyed the Barnes & Noble bag, realizing that the book inside was the exact one you had mentioned wanting yesterday. Your emotions swirled in a mix of frustration and tenderness. Should you lecture him for being so reckless, or cry because of how romantic it was that he went out of his way to get the book you had been searching for?

But first and foremost, how and where did he get all those bruises?

Before you could ask, he already had an answer prepared. “Long story, baby. Let's just say I had a little run-in with another biker who had the same idea as me.”

You grabbed his hand and guided him to sit on the couch while you hurriedly fetched your first aid kit. As you tended to the scrapes on Sukuna’s face, Casper the cat approached cautiously, sniffing his scent before surprising both of you by leaning against your boyfriend’s leg.

“Meow~”

“Casper!” Sukuna exclaimed joyfully, picking up the cat with a playful flourish like how Rafiki carried Simba in The Lion King “Babe, he finally likes me!”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and joined Sukuna on the couch, gently tilting his chin to examine his bruise. “Tell me exactly what happened,” you asked with a hint of sternness, “You went all over town just for this book?”

Your boyfriend carefully set Casper back down and nodded. “Yeah, it’s the last one they had. Had to fight for it, though.” He then rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t even get a kiss or a thank you?”

At once, all your defenses crumbled. You let go of the gauze in your hand and pulled your boyfriend into a tender kiss, wrapping him in a warm hug afterward. “You’re insane, you know that? I was so worried about you, and now I find out you spent the whole day looking for this book.” You sighed, overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions the day had brought. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man who had gone to such lengths to make you happy. “But thank you, lovey. That’s really sweet of you.”

Sukuna, now grinning broadly, held you closer around the waist. “Always welcome, my baby.”

“Now, tell me about that biker,” you began, taking a q-tip and some ointment, “How’d you get into a fight?” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” he recalled, amused at the thought, “He was going to get the book for his girl, too. But I got there first, and he wouldn’t let me have it.” 

Jesus. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh at the absurdity of two bikers squabbling over a book in a bookstore. “You should’ve just let him have it.” 

“But baby!” he protested like a child, “I couldn’t come home empty-handed. I already feel bad we didn’t get to pass by the bookstore yesterday.” 

What a stubborn boyfriend you have. “I already told you it’s okay, lovey. You’re the best boyfriend already. I appreciate the effort and I’m even more in love with you now than ever,” you reassured, placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose, “Now, is there anything I can give you in return? As a thank you?” 

Oh, boy. You already assumed he would request for something concerning activities in bed. But his face suddenly lit up as if a lightbulb just appeared above his head. His idea was surely not what you had in mind. 

“How about I teach you how to ride my bike?” 

~~

The sun hung low on the horizon as Sukuna stood beside his Yamaha R1, patiently explaining the basics of riding ‘Fury’ to you. He seemed to be heavily enjoying this whole thing. Meanwhile, you, donning a helmet and gloves, were fully geared up, nervousness evident as you cautiously swung your leg over the bike.

“Ah, dammit.” Your boyfriend was grinning like an idiot as he saw you sitting on his bike. “You’re gonna be one hot biker girl. I can’t! You’re mine. Don’t let them see you like this, babe!” 

“Stop exaggerating!” you retorted, your voice tense with nerves as you gripped the handlebars tightly. “This bike feels… big.” 

“Like my cock?”

“Stop it.”

Sukuna erupted into a chuckle before proceeding to move closer to you. “Alright, babe. Remember what I showed you about the clutch and throttle control,” he encouraged, “Take it slow.”

Nodding, you started the bike and felt the powerful engine rumble beneath you. With your boyfriend’s guidance, you eased out the clutch and gave a tentative twist of the throttle. The bike lurched forward, causing you to panic and squeeze the brakes hard. 

“Oh, my God!” You let out a squeak of surprise. “Oh, my God! I’m gonna die.” 

“Easy there.” He held your waist protectively. “Let’s try one more time?” 

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the intimidating power of the machine beneath you and instead focus on Sukuna’s instructions. Even with his guidance, you found yourself repeating the same mistake where this time, you braked too hard again, causing your body to jolt forward dangerously. You would have fallen from the bike if not for your boyfriend catching you right on time.

“I can’t do this…” You shook your head, frantically. “I’m not cut out for this.”

Sukuna held you steady, his hands firm yet reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, looking into your eyes. “It takes time, alright? You’re doing fine. Maybe we should start with something smaller.”

You let out a heavy exhale as Sukuna carried you off his bike. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Like a lower cc bike?” he suggested, giving your helmet a playful tap. “Let’s start you off on a 150cc bike. Yuuji has a CBR150R we can borrow.”

“I wouldn’t want to wreck your nephew’s bike,” you teased, watching from the side as Sukuna effortlessly mounted his own bike.

He revved the engine and reached out for your hand, helping you settle in behind him. “Then, you can just stay being my backpack princess for now”

With your arms securely around his waist, the bike accelerated, the wind whipping against your helmet visor. The view of the sunset was perfect for this ride. “So, does that mean I’m not your ride or die anymore?”

Sukuna took your hand from behind, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Nah. You’ll always be my ride or die, baby.”

[peachysunrize]

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[rishiguro]

a/n: slowly getting used to writing again before hitting y’all with angst again

TOJI doesn’t hug you often.

he’s not the type to come up to you and wrap his arms around you to pull your body into his (that doesn’t mean he would push you away when you come to him and ask for a hug, in fact, he’ll gladly let you pull him in and have your form rest against him for as long as you need).

so it was safe to say that you were confused when the door to your bedroom opened and he came in, strutting towards you with purpose and pulled you into a hug; all while staying completely silent.

you stood there still, unable to move for the first moment. “toji?” you asked confused, “are you okay?” he however stayed silent.

confused you put your hands on his chest, trying to push him off you and question him further.

toji however had other plans. he let out a grunt in protest, tightening his hold around you even further. “don’t do that”

slowly you reached around him and wrapped one arm around his waist, your free hand finding it’s way to his neck and playing with the black hair on his nape. “are you okay?” you asked concerned, your voice sounding muffled against toji’s shirt.

“shut up,” he mutters back immediately, “i don’t ask dumb questions when you hug me either”

you furrowed your eyebrows, still feeling slightly confused. and yet slowly you allowed yourself to truly sink into this hug, closing your eyes, and listening to his calm heartbeat.

maybe he wasn’t okay. maybe he needed a minute or two, you didn’t know.

but whatever it was, you were willing to give it to him.

however, truth was, he was alright. he didn’t have a hard day or week, he wasn’t going through a rough patch or needed that kind of support in any way.

but it was easier for him to let you think that, instead of admitting that he simply really loved the way you hugged him.

the way your arms wrapped around him and your fingers would play with his hair.

the way your warm breath tickled his skin.

the way his heart would beat a little faster when you were this close to him.

the way you felt like home — a home he felt like he could always return to and always feel welcomed in.