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cherryxkush · 8 months ago

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risky business | pjm, jjk (m) | 1

synopsis: you’re a successful entrepreneur in the beauty industry and after your assistant/best friend sees the spread in Korea GQ magazine of a popular k-pop artist, she gets him on the first flight to California to start a sponsorship deal, and it was none other than the world-renowned fuckboy you met at a product launch party for Gucci two years ago.

pairing: jimin x female reader x jungkook

rating: mature (18+)

genre: enemies to lovers, love triangle, angst, fluff, smut

warnings/content: swearing, employer/client relationship, past situationship, fuckboy!jimin, celebrity!jimin, love triangle, tattoo artist!jungkook, jin is reader’s lawyer best friend

explicit content: varies between chapters, this one is reader x jungkook, protected sex (good job jk), oral sex (female receiving, but mentions of wanting to give a bj), slight hand/veins kink, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy style, spanking, jk has a daddy kink, jk calls reader babygirl/princess

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction, and in no way does it reflect thoughts or acts of bts in the real world (:

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗃𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 ♡

Next chapter

“Please make sure you actually take off the lens filter before shooting this time,” you told your assistant and best friend, Naiya. You were already behind on shooting and editing the photos for your product line, and you couldn’t afford any more mishaps — otherwise the new launch would be late, and it wouldn’t just be your pay that you had to worry about.

“It was one time!” She rolled her eyes before double-checking that the lens filter actually was off, and then she started taking some photos of the models that were standing against the backdrop. Between each shot, she looked down at the electronic viewfinder on the camera, assessing what could be tweaked and what needed to stay.

She smiled at the models, telling them to take a 10 minute break before walking back over to you. “So, here are the shots so far,” The both of you looked at the screen as she pressed the button to proceed to the next photo, and you were genuinely impressed. “Some of these we can use. They’re great, aside from just a few things to edit. I can do that in post, of course — but, I do think we could use a high-profile male model.”

Your eyebrow rose in question, “High profile? You don’t think we have enough models already?”

“We have a good amount, sure, but finding someone famous will bring more exposure to the brand. Which leads to more inclusivity, more press, more deals — and more coin. Plus, you sell men’s skincare products too, so it’ll look even better for the optics,”

You were actually speechless. Partly because you hadn’t thought of it before (not even the head of your advertising department did, which is a shame), and partly because she was absolutely right. Getting someone with a lot of recognition to model for your beauty brand would create a massive amount of exposure for your business, and could finally land you a spot working with a brand you’ve dreamed of collaborating with since your teenage years.

You were successful in your industry, yes, and it took you a long time and a lot of hard work to get where you are, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t strive to be even better within the industry. Following your passion came with sacrifices, and you weren’t about to let those dark times be for nothing.

But at the same time, this product line that you were about to put out was going to be the bread and butter of your business, so you needed it to be great. Almost perfect, even, and you didn’t know how long it would take to find someone to fit the bill, for the deal to work in both of your favors. It seemed like it was too risky.

You sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. It would really help and we could get tons of publicity from it, but it’s just cutting it too close, Nai. We can’t have this product launch be anything less than damn near perfect.” You walked over to a work desk that was in the studio, pulling out the chair and sitting down before stressfully running a hand through your hair. “I mean, who would I even reach out to? Would we have to do model calls again? The launch is in less than two months now,”

“Girl, look at these,” Naiya said as she walked over to you before plopping down on top of the desk and reaching over to grab her laptop. She took a sip of her drink, opening up the Adobe Photoshop application before turning her laptop towards you. “These are some of the finished shots from the other day. We didn’t even think we’d be able to finish editing these in time, and look how amazing they turned out,” She wasn’t lying — they were stunning.

“They’re beautiful,” you agreed and she beamed, proud of herself. She was your go-to for everything photo and video and she’d wanted to get into that scene long before she actually started, so she had a lot of knowledge and skin in the game in regard to what would look the best for the vision you were going for. She definitely had your back, but there were still some things you were unsure about business-wise, that neither of you were really familiar with. “You’re great at what you do, but what about the other stuff? Making a deal and all the legal things that go along with it? We’re not just talking about influencers that get a commission from sales here, you know?”

“You let me handle finding the person and closing the deal, you go talk to Jin about starting a contract and all the legal shit that goes with it.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.” Jin eyed you with a blank expression as he sat comfortably with his hands folded, judging you.

“What the hell do you mean?!” You exclaimed before turning to examine yourself in the mirror again. “This is cute!”

“You got asked out to dinner after being dry for like 2 years and you can’t do better than leggings and a sweater?”

You rolled your eyes. “First of all, this sweater was expensive,” You walked over to the rack inside your closet, grimacing at the idea of having to wear a dress or skirt. “Second of all, you just want your women to be as high maintenance as you.”

Jin laughed, “This is true, but you would definitely increase your chances of getting laid if you put in more effort,”

“Who says I’m trying to get laid?”

“Your attitude and the fact that you used one of my charging cables for your vibrator.” You felt your face heat up at Jin’s comment, and you wanted to proceed to crawl into a hole, lie in the fetal position, and stay there for eternity.

“I hate you,” you frowned and Jin smirked.

“I love you, too, and wear the black dress. It’ll suit you.”

You spotted the dress at the end of the rack. It was made of a sleek material, smooth silken fabric with mesh, tulle-like sleeves. You’d bought it about 2 years ago after an event in Los Angeles. It was nighttime and on the way back to the hotel, you walked passed the prettiest little boutique and fell in love with the dress immediately — but you never wore it.

You frowned, silently questioning if you could pull it off. It was a different time back then, one where you felt on top of the world and you thought you’d found someone that would sweep you off of your feet and you’d beam at seeing his glimmering eyes rake upon your beauty in the dress. But it didn’t happen that way. In fact, it didn’t happen at all.

In an effort to distract yourself from your thoughts, you decided to ask Jin about the modeling contract.

“Okay, fine, but there’s something I need to talk to you about first.”

“And what’s that?” He raised his eyebrow in question.

“So, you know how I’m releasing a new product line soon?”

He scoffed, “About damn time! Of course I’m already handsome, we all know this, but men need good skincare too,”

You rolled your eyes, “Hence the reason I’m putting out this line, Jin. Anyways, Naiya proposed the idea that we should have a high-profile male model, preferably someone really famous who can bring us a lot of publicity,”

“Okay, and did you find this person yet?”

“Naiya’s working on that. But I do need your help with creating a contract and all the legal shit that’s included,” You grabbed the dress off of the rack hesitantly.

He brought a hand up to his chin as if he were thinking before meeting your gaze. “Alright, say I do it. What do I get out of it?”

“Um...my love and support as your best friend?”

“Will love and support pay my bills?”

You glared at him, “No, but you sure do eat a lot of my food to not pay my grocery bill.”

He laughed nervously, bringing up a finger to rub at his temple, “Well played,”

“Will a full-size bottle of that serum you like be good enough?”

“Throw in those little eye patches too, I don’t care what anyone says about me for using them — my bags are horrendous these days.”

You laughed and Jin cracked a smile. “Deal.”

jungkook [8:31pm]: i’m outside pretty, buzz me up?

you hearted a message from jungkook

You happened to meet Jungkook about 2 months ago when you decided to get a tattoo for the first time. You were really excited about the journey you were on with your business and the woman you were becoming, so you decided to get a self love tattoo that really resonated with you, and Jungkook was your artist.

During your session you couldn’t stop ogling at him due to his good looks and his many, many tattoos — he boldly asked for your number afterwards and you gladly but shyly gave it to him. After talking for a couple months and your busy schedules finally coinciding, Jungkook had been adamant about taking you on a date.

You walked over to the buzzer next to the door of your luxury condo and pressed the button to let Jungkook through the downstairs entrance. Your heart fluttered at the fact that he chose to come all the way to the fifth floor of your building to come get you instead of asking you to meet him downstairs.

You heard a gentle knock before opening the door, meeting Jungkook’s gaze as he presented you with a bouquet of flowers.

You grinned with rosy cheeks, “Aren’t you the gentleman?”

“I try,” He smiled smugly.

“You definitely succeeded,” You walked over to put the flowers in a vase with some water before leaving out. “You really didn’t have to do all this, Jungkook. This is beyond sweet,”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to take you out and show you a good time,” He grabbed your hand as he met your eyes, just as you finished putting away the flowers. “Come on, we don’t wanna be late for our reservation.”

You blushed even harder. “Y-you made a reservation?”

“Of course, you’re too pretty for me not to,” He flashed you a grin before grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours, and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

The date went well. Jungkook had taken you to a restaurant that had really good food even though it was overpriced, and you liked the vibe of it. It was fancy, with the wait staff dressed in black-tie attire and you were happy that you went with the dress Seokjin suggested. Jungkook took every opportunity to compliment you and he didn’t just compliment your looks, but your conversation as well.

He’d also told you about his career as a tattoo artist and how he’d loved it, having opened up his own shop about a year prior, and you shared details about your journey into the beauty industry. It was almost endearing, the way that he talked about his job, and you felt the same way about yours. Although it could be really stressful, you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else, and you could tell Jungkook shared that with you. It was a connection beyond the physical attraction; it was mental, too, the way it seemed you both complimented each other.

Although, the physical attraction was definitely there.

He’d absentmindedly roll up his sleeves a bit showing his veiny arms as he focused on talking with you, his lip ring glinting in the moody lightning. It made you want to bite your lip, and you shuffled a bit in your seat, growing flustered at the sight of the man before you.

He was fully dressed, engaging in conversation, and you found yourself enamored with him, in awe even though he hadn’t even touched you. Seeing his dimples when he smirked made you want to whimper. Clock it to maybe the fact that you hadn’t been laid in a couple years, and Seokjin’s words had started to creep into your mind, but Jungkook had you hot and bothered without even trying.

“You okay there?” He smirked, not missing the pinkish tint to your cheeks.

Slightly startled because you’d been caught, you replied sheepishly before clearing your throat, “Y-yeah, I’m fine,”

He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin after taking the last bite of his food and seeing that you were done with yours, suggested you both do something to wind down, but not end your date so soon.

“Do you wanna take a little walk in the city for a bit? I remembered you saying you hadn’t been to this part of town in a while,”

There go the stupid butterflies again.

You arrived outside of your apartment building, Jungkook skillfully parking his sleek car as close as he could to shorten the walk.

He turned off the engine, the both of you relaxing in each other’s presence before either of you decided to leave. He was mesmerizing, lax in nature yet attractively attentive and his scent drove you crazy; it was an earthy, musky scent, one that made your mouth water and your thighs instinctively rub together.

His eye contact sent a delicious chill down your spine, and you missed the burn that his lips left on your hand after giving it a gentle kiss.

Instead of kissing your hand you wanted him to kiss other places, and suddenly his spacious car became too cramped and stuffy for your liking.

To put it plainly, you wanted him out of the car and in your bed. And even though you were shy as hell, this was one opportunity you definitely didn’t want to let pass you by.

You blinked at him, trying to steady your breath before speaking, but it still came out a little bit more breathy than you’d like, and unbeknownst to you, made Jungkook’s dick jump in his pants. “Would you want to come up?”

His eyes went wide with surprise before he tried to shake it off. He cleared his throat, not expecting you to ask, but he took you up on the offer.

In usual Jungkook fashion, he smirked. “Lead the way, Princess.”

You took the elevator up to your condo, hastily putting in your key once you got to your door. You stepped in, taking off your jacket and offering to hang up Jungkook’s.

He closed the door quietly before pinning you against it, his face dangerously close to yours.

His voice was just above a whisper, thick and gravelly. His gaze switched back and forth from your eyes to your lips, and he absentmindedly brought his tongue out to wet his own. “Let me make this clear, do you want this? Because I do,”

You swallowed thickly, already feeling desire pooling in the pit of your stomach at the hold that Jungkook had on you right now. You couldn’t help but nod to answer him, not finding the strength to use your voice. Jungkook wasn’t too happy about that.

“Use your words, baby,” He moved to your ear before dipping just below it to leave a kiss there, a kiss that added to the fuel that was already him hovering over you like this.

“Y-Yes,” you croaked. “I want it,”

“Want what?” He probed, chuckling softly as he continued to pepper kisses along your skin, slowly moving from your ear and down your neck. He could feel you shifting, your thighs squeezing together to give yourself some relief. “If you want more, you gotta use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me,”

He kissed a particular spot that made you gasp softly and offer more of your neck to him. He sucked on the spot, making you whimper and flutter your eyes closed before he pulled away entirely.

You frowned out of disappointment and opened your eyes to see his smug face, lips curled into an amused smirk. There was a glint in his eyes that made your mouth run dry.

“If you don’t want to use your words, I can’t help you, and by the looks of it, I think you want me to,” He bit his lip as he surveyed you, looking you up and down and your tongue came out to wet your lips, “But consent is important, and I need to know if you want it too, and that I’m not reading this wrong,”

You struggled to meet his eyes, simultaneously wanting to crawl into a hole and crawl under him, having him hover over you with his silver chain dangling in your face. You managed to find the courage, though, and the butterflies turned into searing-hot sparks.

“Y-you’re not reading it wrong, I want you, Jungkook. I want you to touch me,”

He cockily grinned at you before closing the gap between the two of you, “Thought you’d never ask.”

He brought his lips to yours, sending all of your nerve endings on fire and creating a heat that pooled in the pit of your stomach. He grabbed the back of your neck roughly before his fingers found themselves in your hair and he tugged slightly on the strands, causing you to moan.

“Oh, she likes that, huh?” He slid his hand down your body before toying with the hem of your dress. “You look so pretty with this on,”

“It would look prettier off,” You quipped, bothered that he wasn’t where you needed him to be.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled deeply before dragging his fingers upwards, letting you feel the rough pads of his fingertips on the skin of your thighs. He lightly grabbed the bottom of your dress before pulling it up to your hips. He traced the fabric of your thong with his finger, “Cute,” he said, distracting you a bit from his hands before he firmly pressed a thumb on your clit over your underwear, rubbing in small circles.

“Fuck,” you whispered, throwing your head back against the door, relishing in his touch. You started grinding against his hand, desperate for relief, and he didn’t hesitate to call you out on it.

“So fucking needy,” he growled, and you felt an electrifying jolt run through your body again. He rubbed harder and you gasped, rolling your eyes back. “I barely touched you and you’re already soaking through your panties.”

You brought your hand up to rake your manicured nails along his scalp before pulling, earning a grunt of approval from him. You smashed your lips onto his in fervor and he grunted, opening his mouth to allow you entrance and your tongues battled for dominance. He held you closer, cupping your scantily clad ass in his big, veiny hands before slapping your ass hard. You let out a small, surprised yelp before relishing and moaning at the sting.

He did it again but harder, and you were positive you were in fact dripping down your legs at this point.

You pecked him a couple of times before grabbing his hand and leading him after you. “Room. Now.”

Once you got to your room, Jungkook proceeded to turn you around to face him and continued kissing you, bringing up a hand to cup your face.

He walked you backwards and when the backs of your heels reached the frame, he pushed you onto the bed.

He stood over you, skilled hands working at undoing his belt and you could see how hard he was. Throwing your head back, your hands reached your clothed breasts and began to fondle them, fingertips enclosing and twisting your nipples, and Jungkook’s mouth watered at the sight.

His belt flew to the floor somewhere and he grabbed the back of your calves to pull you closer to him at the edge of the bed. Your dress was covering too much, he decided.

“Take your dress off, babygirl, unless you want me to rip it.”

You almost moaned at his words. The dress flew somewhere too, and you lie in front of him, clothed in nothing but your thong, tits on full display.

He licked his lips and as you saw his face coming toward you, you could’ve sworn it would’ve been to take one of your tits in his mouth, but he placed a kiss above your belly button. And you shivered as you saw that he kept going lower.

He peppered soft, slow pecks along your skin until he was face to face with the source of your wetness, and Jungkook leaned in to lick a strip on the material of your panties. Your hands fisted the blanket as he teased you at an agonizingly slow pace, moving his tongue anywhere but the place you actually needed him, making you squirm.

He hooked his fingers underneath your underwear before ripping it off of you, the frail piece of lace no match for his strength as it tore.

“Will just have to buy you another pair.” He winked before kissing you again, but this time right above your clit, his breath warm and his touch sending you into overdrive.

You spread your legs for him eagerly and his long fingers spread your lips, stopping to admire you. You self-consciously had half a mind to close them as he gazed upon your lower half, but he held them open and finally licked a strip from your hole to your clit.

“S-shit,” you moaned as he held you open, his tongue meeting your clit as he swirled it in tight circles before giving it a hard suck. “Fuck!”

“Mmm,” He moaned against you, causing you to shiver again, hips bucking into his mouth. “You taste good, gonna make you cum on my tongue first.”

He lapped at you like you were the dessert he craved but never had, as if you were the best thing he’d ever taste. He licked at you, flattening his tongue before circling your clit again, and you had to try your best not to scream.

And you didn’t scream, until he started sucking on your clit again.

“Fucking shit, ‘Kook,” You moaned loudly and he hummed at the nickname. You had never been eaten out this good before, and you were so close to cumming on his tongue in so short of a time that you were almost embarrassed.

One of his fingers teased against your hole before diving in, and your toes curled before he added another. “Gotta stretch you out,” He mumbled against your pussy before swirling his tongue again. He curled his fingers expertly, reaching the spongey part within you that made tears prick your eyes from the pleasure.

You arched your back, hips leading away from his mouth before he tightened his grip around them with his other hand and held you so close you were worried you’d suffocate him.

He made eye contact with you and it had you feeling like you were going to combust. You reached down to tangle your fingers into his hair and he created a faster pace with his digits, darting in and out of you so quickly that you were sure you’d cum in 5 minutes flat.

His let go of your hip to rub your clit as his tongue took a break, and the coil in your stomach tightened even more, tears rolling down your face at how good he was making you feel.

“Look at how well that pussy takes my fingers,” he mused, “Fuck, you’re so pretty,”

Your pussy tightened around his fingers and he slapped your clit lightly, “Fuck, yes!” you were shouting, and it made his heart swell at the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to make you cum hard, and fuck if he wasn’t gonna taste it. He wanted all of you.

“I’m so close,” you said all breathy, your vocal cords nearly strained, and you had so much more to go. Jungkook’s goal was to make sure you couldn’t walk the next day.

“Cum for me, pretty,” He rasped, before sucking on your clit hard, and watching you come undone on his tongue.

“I-I’m gonna cum, I’m — Jungkook!”

He hummed as he lapped up your juices, tasting you as he let you ride out your high and when you came down from it, you thought he’d give you a break. But he wasn’t done.

He stood up and brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them to get every last bit of you off of them. He leaned in to hover over you and kiss you, your tongue colliding with his as you tasted yourself. To your surprise, it only seemed to make you wetter.

He took off his boxers, cock springing up to slap against his stomach. It was leaky, the tip oozing precum and you wanted so badly to have him in your mouth but when you’d suggested it, he declined and you pouted.

He grabbed a condom from you don’t even know where and ripped it with his teeth before rolling it on. “Uh-uh, tonight’s about you. You can take care of me another time, babygirl,” He said before winking at you and pumping himself a couple times before lining himself up with your entrance.

He grabbed your legs by your ankles and put them over his shoulder, pushing into you and you mewled at the stretch. He stopped to let you get acclimated to the size and waited until you gave him a nod to continue before backing out of you and snapping his hips in a pace that was so rough and so fast it damn near knocked the wind out of you.

You screamed so loud that were sure your neighbors would hate you, but you didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-Shit, your cock is so good,” He groaned as he continued his pace while you were clutching the blanket so hard your knuckles were turning white. “Do it again,”

He snapped his hips into you again, hitting your cervix. “Babygirl likes that, huh? You like when I slam my cock into you?”

“F-fuck, yeah, I l-love it,”

“How is your pussy still so tight after fucking you with my fingers like that,” He was gritting his teeth, trying not to empty his load into you already. He can usually hold out but your pussy was too good, so slick and tight and sucking him in.

You clenched purposefully and giggled and he groaned, damn near having to stop to pace himself because of you. Nonetheless he kept going, and he was determined to wreck your pussy and make you crave him afterwards.

He grabbed your legs and pushed so you were bent at the knees and you were holding them in place. Then he started speeding up again, snapping his hips into you and you were seeing stars.

“Fuuuuck, J-“

“Say my name baby, who’s fucking you this good?”

“You are, J-Jungkook, fuck,” you threw your head back into the pillows, eyes rolling back and toes curling.

He was holding onto you so tight, thrusting into you so hard he was going to leave pretty little bruises for you to remember the night by.

“Your pussy is s-so good,” He reached down to rub your clit, and you arched your back again, clenching around him and he moaned. “W-wanna fuck you in doggy before I make you cum again,”

He slid out of you, leaving you feeling empty and missing his warmth before he helped you turn over, positioning you face down, ass up.

He smacked your ass with force and you whimpered at the sting before wiggling your bum and teasing him so he’d do it again.

He did it harder this time and the pain had you gritting your teeth, but it sent a delicious chill along your veins that was intoxicating, and you wanted more.

He lined himself up at your entrance again and as you felt him lined up perfectly, his head peaking at your hole, you slammed back against him, ass meeting his pelvis as he bottomed out. You moaned into the blanket, grabbing fistfuls of it.

“Fuck!” He yelled, eyes rolling back and you felt the coil winding up again at him being vocal. “Babygirl wants back shots from Daddy, yeah? If you wanted me to drill you, Princess, all you had to do was ask.”

Oh shit.

Ohhhh shit.

He pulled almost all the way out of you before snapping his hips again, bottoming out and hitting your cervix so good your toes curled and your back arched so much you knew you’d be sore afterwards.

He continued his relentless pace and you met his thrusts, his balls slapping delectably against your clit and you moaned pornographically in response.

He reached forward to grab your hair and pull you up so that your back met his chest, and the burn made fire ignite in your belly, so much so that the coil was going to snap any second now.

It was too much and not enough all at once. You wanted more and more of whatever he was willing to give you, you wanted to be so drunk on his dick that you forgot your own name.

He reached down to rub circles on your clit and that’s when you lost it.

“J-Jungkook, I’m cumming!” You creamed on his cock with a cry and a shake, quaking from the sheer amount of pleasure of your orgasm. He coaxed you through it as you rode out your high, his fingers still playing with your clit as he rubbed it just the way you liked.

He led you down to the bed, gently as he slowed his pace inside you. “I’m almost there, Princess. Daddy’s gonna cum for you,”

You moaned loudly, leaking even more at the name. You loved how vocal he was and how sexy he made you feel. It was addicting.

And to try to repay him for how good he made you feel, you managed to have the strength to throw your ass onto him, hard, to get him to cum. You wanted his load in you.

“F-fuck baby, I really will cum if you keep doing that,” He bit his lip, toying with the ring and you were glad you had turned around slightly in time to see it. When you faced back forward, Jungkook was in for a treat.

You pushed back with force, arching your back so well that he hit the right spots all while clenching your pussy like you wanted to milk him and he loved it.

“S-Shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,”

“Cum for me Daddy,” you said with a sensual tone, one that had his eyes rolling back into his head as your ass met his hips one last time before spilling his load into the condom.

He came with a hiss and holding onto your hips for dear life. You were sure to have marks tomorrow, and neither of you were mad about it.

After coming down from his post-orgasm high, he gently pulled out of you before proceeding to take off the condom and tie a knot before throwing it away in the bathroom connected to your room.

He was rummaging in there for what seemed like a tad bit too long, and you were puzzled although you were too tired to see what he was doing. You heard the sink run for a few seconds before being turned off, and then you saw him come out of the bathroom, damp towel in hand.

“Sorry about that,” He smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to get something to clean you up,” He gently wiped your juices from your body. It was relaxing and gentle, soothing you. You smiled in appreciation before thanking him, grinning as you met his eyes.

“Still the gentleman,” He winked, sending butterflies roaming around your stomach again. It was becoming a regular thing with Jungkook, and you liked it.

“I try,” He laughed and you threw a pillow at him while laughing too.

You got up to go pee before changing into some underwear and a loosely fitted t-shirt. You glanced at the clock and saw that it said 3 am before turning off the lights and climbing into bed, Jungkook cuddling up next to you and you laid your head on his chest.

The light coming from your phone was bright as it flashed and you heard the familiar tone of an incoming iMessage, but you chose to ignore it, as Jungkook was too warm and this was the best you’d felt in a long time.

You were in for a big surprise tomorrow, but for now, as comfy and giddy as you were, maybe you could get used to having Jungkook around.

2 unread messages

naiyaaa [3:02am]: srry i know it’s hella late, i fell asleep at like 7 while watching my show lmao

naiyaaa [3:02am]: just wanted to tell u i got somebody to model for u!! it’s park jimin, he’s super famous in south korea bitch. we going worldwideee

author’s note: 𝖺𝗁𝗁𝗁!! 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗅. 𝗂 𝗁𝗈��𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 & 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗌𝗈, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 <3 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 ♡

if you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so here!

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nayziiz · 7 months ago

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Witness | CL16

Summary: In the shadowy world of Monaco's elite, the Leclerc family reigns supreme. Charles Leclerc, the charming middle son, maintains their pristine public image—until one rainy night, during a fit of rage, Charles does the unthinkable. A young woman witnesses his actions, and her terrified eyes haunt him. Consumed by guilt and fear of exposure, Charles embarks on a desperate search to find her before she can destroy his family’s legacy. As he delves deeper into Monaco's underbelly, Charles must confront his own darkness and the lengths he will go to protect his family.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC (Marie)

Warnings: Violence, blood, angst

Author's Note: This was quite a short chapter, so I'll upload another chapter later this week to make up for it.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

When Marie returned to her apartment after her shift, she immediately got her laptop out and started an intense search on the Leclerc family. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up articles, news reports, and any available information she could find. She wanted to know everything she could about them, especially Charles. He knew her name now and where she worked. It was only a matter of time before he found out where she lived. She needed to be prepared. She needed to make sure things were in order if he were to cause her any harm.

Her search revealed a web of wealth, power, and influence. The Leclerc family was notorious, their reputation built on both legitimate businesses and whispered rumours of illicit activities. Charles, the middle brother, was often seen as the charming face of the family, handling public relations and negotiations. But beneath that polished exterior was a man capable of brutal violence, as she had witnessed firsthand.

She found photos of the brothers—Lorenzo, the eldest, with a stern, calculating look; Arthur, the youngest, always seen partying; and Charles, his handsome smile and dimples hiding the darkness she knew lurked beneath. The more she read, the more her anxiety grew. This was a family that could make people disappear, that could cover up their tracks with ease. She realised just how precarious her situation was.

Marie paused to take a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She couldn't let fear paralyse her; she had to be proactive. She made a list of precautions to take: changing her daily routines, varying her routes to and from work, and ensuring her apartment was secure. She even contemplated moving to a different place, but that would mean starting over yet again, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that right now.

As the night wore on, Marie's exhaustion began to take its toll, but she refused to sleep. Not yet. She needed to feel some semblance of control over the situation. She bookmarked several pages, printed out articles, and took notes. If Charles Leclerc was going to come after her, she would at least be prepared.

In the quiet of her bedroom, surrounded by the glow of her laptop screen, Marie felt a mixture of fear and determination. She wasn't going to let herself become another victim. She had already lost so much—her parents, her sense of security. She wouldn’t let the Leclerc family take any more from her.

As dawn approached, she finally closed her laptop and sat back, rubbing her tired eyes. The city outside was beginning to wake up, but for Marie, the night had been long and filled with revelations. She knew now what she was up against. And she knew she had to stay one step ahead if she wanted to survive.

Charles took advantage of his brother's severe intoxication to elicit information from him. Arthur, slumped against the plush leather seat of the limo, was more than happy to ramble on in his inebriated state. The neon lights of Monte Carlo streaked past the windows as they drove back to Charles' apartment, the city's nightlife still in full swing.

“You don't perhaps know the girl who works at the blackjack table?” Charles asked, trying to sound casual, though his heart raced with anticipation. Arthur blinked blearily and tried to focus on his brother.

“Blackjack table? Which one, bro?” he slurred, fumbling for clarity. “There are lots of girls at the tables.”

“The one we saw tonight. Brown hair, dark eyes. I think her name is Marie,” Charles pressed on, keeping his tone light. Arthur's face lit up with a lopsided grin.

“Marie! Yeah, I know Marie. She's good, really knows her stuff. Why? Are you interested in her or something?” He laughed, a loud, drunken sound that filled the limo.

“Just curious. She seemed... interesting,” Charles forced a chuckle, playing along. Arthur leaned in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“Oh, she's a good one. Pretty, too. But she's a bit of a mystery, keeps to herself mostly. Works hard. Heard she’s been here a while, probably has some story,” Arthur added. Charles nodded, filing away the information.

“Do you know anything else about her? Where she might live or who she hangs out with?” Charles continued to question his brother.

“Hmmm... not really. She’s friends with some girl who works on yachts, I think. They live together, I heard. Near the old town, maybe?” Arthur frowned, trying to concentrate. “Why all the questions?”

“I want her to teach me how to play blackjack,” Charles lied smoothly, keeping his tone light and casual. Arthur laughed, a deep, hearty sound that filled the limo.

“Mate, you're going to struggle with that,” he said, shaking his head with amusement.

“What do you mean?” Charles asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though his mind raced.

“We've all asked for private lessons, and she's always said no, if you get what I mean,” Arthur smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his hidden meaning clear. Charles felt a wave of irritation mixed with a bit of relief. At least Arthur didn't know the real reason for his interest.

“No, 'Tur. That's not - nevermind,” Charles stated firmly, shaking his head in disgust at his brother's implication. Arthur laughed again, seemingly oblivious to Charles's disapproval.

“Good luck with that one, then. She's a tough nut to crack,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes, the conversation clearly over for him.

Charles sat back as well, his thoughts now even more tangled. Arthur's comments only made him more determined to find out more about Marie. If she was as elusive and independent as Arthur suggested, she might be even harder to reach. But he had to try. He needed to know what she knew and what she intended to do with that information. For now, he had a place to start. He would have to find a way to approach her, in a setting where she might feel more at ease, and he could speak to her without the prying eyes and ears of the casino.

-------------------------

Taglist: @headinthecloudssblog

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covid-safer-hotties · 2 months ago

Text

Also preserved in our archive

From this past April. Posting now as several studies have come out recently blaming the increase in children needing visual aids or new lens prescriptions on "screen time during lockdown." Covid is a VASCULAR DISEASE. If it can bleed, covid can harm it.

The blood-retinal barrier is designed to protect our vision from infections by preventing microbial pathogens from reaching the retina where they could trigger an inflammatory response with potential vision loss. But researchers at the University of Missouri School of Medicine have discovered the virus that causes COVID-19 can breach this protective retinal barrier with potential long-term consequences in the eye.

Pawan Kumar Singh, PhD, an assistant professor of ophthalmology, leads a team researching new ways to prevent and treat ocular infectious diseases. Using a humanized ACE2 mice model, the team found that SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, can infect the inside of the eyes even when the virus doesn’t enter the body through the surface of the eyes. Instead, they found that when viruses enter the body through inhalation, it not only infects organs like lungs, but also reaches highly protected organs like eyes through the blood-retinal barrier by infecting the cells lining this barrier.

“This finding is important as we increase our understanding of the long-term effects of SARS-CoV-2 infection,” said Singh. “Earlier, researchers were primarily focused on the ocular surface exposure of the virus. However, our findings reveal that SARS-CoV-2 not only reaches the eye during systemic infection but induces a hyperinflammatory response in the retina and causes cell death in the blood-retinal barrier. The longer viral remnants remain in the eye, the risk of damage to the retina and visual function increases.”

Singh also discovered that extended presence of SARS-CoV-2 spike antigen can cause retinal microaneurysm, retinal artery and vein occlusion, and vascular leakage.

“For those who have been diagnosed with COVID-19, we recommend you ask your ophthalmologist to check for signs of pathological changes to the retina,” Singh said. “Even those who were asymptomatic could suffer from damage in the eyes over time because of COVID-19 associated complications.”

While viruses and bacteria have been found to breach the blood-retinal-barrier in immunocompromised people, this research is the first to suggest that the virus that causes COVID-19 could breach the barrier even in otherwise healthy individuals, leading to an infection that manifests inside the eye itself. Immunocompromised patients or those with hypertension or diabetes may experience worse outcomes if they remain undiagnosed for COVID-19 associated ocular symptoms.

“Now that we know the risk of COVID-19 to the retina, our goal is to better understand the cellular and molecular mechanisms of how this virus breaches the blood-retinal barrier and associated pathological consequences in hopes of informing development of therapies to prevent and treat COVID-19 induced eye complications before a patient’s vision is compromised,” Singh said.

This groundbreaking study entitled “SARS-CoV-2 infects cells lining the blood-retinal barrier and induces a hyperinflammatory immune response in the retina via systemic exposure” was recently published in PLOS Pathogens. In addition to Singh, the research team from the University of Missouri School of Medicine included Vaishnavi Balendiran, MD, vitreoretinal surgery fellow; Monu Monu and Faraz Ahmad, post-doctoral fellows in the Department of Ophthalmology; and Rachel M. Olson, PhD, Chief Scientific Officer, Laboratory for Infectious Disease Research at the College of Veterinary Medicine.

This research was supported through fundings from the University of Missouri and the National Institutes of Health (NIH)/National Eye Institute (NEI) grant R01EY032495.

Study link: journals.plos.org/plospathogens/article?id=10.1371/journal.ppat.1012156

#mask up #public health #wear a mask #pandemic #covid #wear a respirator #covid 19 #still coviding #coronavirus #sars cov 2

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tanglepelt · 3 months ago

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The blobs among us

this was a fun project to work on. Go check out @sumiink for their awesome art pieces! Check out the awesome art here

AO3 link, ao3 has all chapters up

Blobs are running around in Amity Park. The portal brought more problems than he realized. Even worse these blobs were appearing everywhere all over the world. The GIW has created a set of laws to "protect" the blobs. Danny and the trio aren't falling for that. They know there using them for their own game. They had to be up to something. When all their attempts to expose the truth fail, they take drastic measures.

Meanwhile, Tim and his team aren't buying these "acts"

“Maybe, just maybe we shouldn’t raid this base”

“We have to hit this one, we have too much info on it not to. Tonight is the night. Less staff on duty and who knows how long the bug is going to last unfound” Danny pointed at the laptop Tucker had opened at the security feed on the screen.

“Plus, the Wayne charity Gala is happening tonight. Anyone who is anyone is going there, and more importantly Danny’s godfather. He will cause a scene if necessary.”

“The last place I want to be is anywhere near Gotham, not given the whole supposed to be investigating a totally real not fake case on the other side of the country. This base based on all the intel has the paper files we need.” Tim sounded annoyed by the fact “In theory, we should be able to find out what is happening with it.”

“We have photos and stuff I still say we just post it out for all to see. Someone’s bound to notice” Danny supplied “I’m just saying. The league is not going to help. Your crew has too much faith in them. Show them all the evidence you want. They’ll just ignore it.”

“We just need one breakthrough. Any exposure would compromise our secrecy. All it will do is draw attention from the league to us.”

“Then you guys can stay out of it. We three are fine with it. We already are in the center. Let the public know. Better than letting the government get more control.”

Sam gave a pointed look at Danny “The blog we had remember got wiped. Showing evidence isn’t enough, they’ll claim it's fake. What we need is proof and live proof.”

Tucker cut in “What we need is a livestream, that’d be hard to fake.”

As far as Danny was concerned that sounded like a great plan. Sam had even seemed to be contemplating it. This whole villainy thing was getting obnoxious.

“NO, what we need is a plan and to Just stick to the plan. Do not start a live stream”

“What plan” Sam cut in

Tim was more than happy to go in-depth on the game plan. Five on the inside two on perimeter duty. They weren’t quite in Gotham thankfully, just close enough where it could draw attention. Stealth was a necessity. He still wasn’t too convinced about that.

Danny and the others still weren’t convinced of the whole plan idea.

It was far too difficult to have a secret meeting when there were trained people around. He thought it was difficult to sneak around when his parents were around. He was positive what they were doing wasn’t hidden at all. Nobody had bothered to stop them. A livestream was the best bet. Tucker had even managed to snag some tech from the zone last time he was there Which was to make it untraceable and add a flare. All he needed to do was start the stream. Which can’t be that hard. It was just loading or something.

"Dude come on, quit stalling. We've been waiting forever for this livestream to go live; we need it online quickly and without notice". Tucker sighed “I should have just handled both parts apparently. Hitting a button is oh so hard”

Danny scowled, "I'm telling you, it's up! Just give it a sec”

Sam leaned against the wall and crossed arms, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'm not holding my breath. Knowing you we'll be waiting forever.”

Tucker chuckled, his fingers dancing over his PDA. "Seconded. Remember when he tried to fix the thermos and ended up setting it on fire, again?"

Danny glared up at the two. " That was a minor mishap, a little fire doesn’t hurt anyone”

Tucker grabbed the device rigged to stream and followed them. If everything went right, they’d have a worldwide audience. Tucker owed Technus now. Which was a future trio problem. Not a now problem.

“Dude, you have to hit the start button” Sam cackled as Tucker started the stream. In the distance, they could see the green glow. Time to focus on the building ahead of them. “We have a party to get to”

Danny took that as his first opening. "Cause we're about to crash the ultimate government party! You know, the one they conveniently forgot to send us invites to? And hey, while we're at it, let's add a little flair to the occasion. Keep your eyes peeled for the pin drop, 'cause that's when the real fun begins.”

Phantom was going to be front and center for this livestream. Better him than the others. Figures a member of the species they were tearing apart would be a bit more dramatic and more serious than if Pharaoh or Hemlock took the lead “Did I mention the fireworks? 'Cause we're about to light up the night sky with a bang! So grab your snacks and strap in, 'cause we're about to blow this conspiracy wide open!" Danny sent a blast into the wall causing a bright green explosion.

“I said no live streams, did you not get that” Red Robin spoke from the coms and a voice modifier on.

Danny chose to ignore him and continue walking through the now-open wall. It made a great door if you were to ask him. “The public deserves the truth” while broadcasting a blast knocking out the agents heading towards them.

Another blast led deeper into the facility. Revealing the room line with cages, glowing green. Some blobs half melted in the cages, ectoplasm dripping from them into containers below the cages. The containers full of the ectoplasm that was meant to be protected and freed back to where it belonged.

"These cells contain the blobs" He explained, "The government has been lying to you. They don’t aid them naturally dissipating; they force them to ectoplasm. They feel the whole thing, “standing beside a row of sealed jars containing a swirling mass of green blobs, their frantic movements betraying their desperation to escape. "They're being harvested, drained of their life to help the government's research for power."

In the background were government agents dressed in obnoxiously bright white suits, their unconscious “Aren’t they so happy we crashed right in, greeting us” Danny spoke to the camera focusing on the agents’ gathering weapons. One’s blasting the same green. “Don’t you feel so protected? Fun fact for my viewers. Those supposed blobs, that your government has claimed need protected… well. Given the chance they grow. Not like you. BUT.” Danny made sure to flash his pointed teeth at the camera “Things like me. They aren’t meant to stay on this side of the veil.

Phantom led his audience deeper into a high-tech laboratory, Pharaoh dismantled weapons revealing a cluster of green blobs partially melted back into goo.

"These creatures deserve freedom,” Phantom spoke to the camera Phantom couldn’t help but fly through the halls. Pointing out true process. What was happening to the entities in “protection”? That the blobs wouldn’t cause harm or issues.

Phantom continued down the hall.

The air grew heavy with tension as he approached a reinforced cell, one labeled for decontamination.

He knew what that meant.

What could be happening?

Who did they have?

Was it someone minor? Someone with barely any lingering ectoplasm.

Who.

He needed to get in that room.

But he didn’t want to.

But he had to.

The world was silent as he approached the door.

He paid no attention to the chat.

Nor the voices asking for his status.

Not the voices about how their location was out.

He froze when he peered into the batter window on the cold metal door.

He through the camera to the ground. Finally responding in the coms “cut the stream”

Ellie was bound to a surgical bed Cuffs blinking red, leaving her powerless and vulnerable. All while hooked to IVs and machinery. Ones that would be removing ectoplasm from her system. What she was very much made of.

It seemed more streamlined.

Danny was quick to try and open the door.

Ellie was fighting against her binds, her muffled cries of frustration echoing through the cell. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw only fear and confusion.

"Phantom, what's going on?" tucker demanded.

“They have Ellie”

#dpxdc #dpxdcbang2024 #g&g24 #this was at least on ao3 yesterday #tumblr does not want to work on my laptop #very annoying #ellie is beinh held by giw in this bit

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lilsoftext · 3 months ago

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•~* BETWEEN THE FLASHES *~• part 3

part 2

-chris sturniolo x female reader

-summery: ?

——————————————————————————

for months, chris and sof had mastered the art of hiding. their relationship was a delicate secret, something they cherished and protected from the eyes of the internet, but it wasn’t without its struggles.

at every party or event, they had a routine. sof would walk in first, mingling with friends, laughing at jokes, blending in seamlessly. then, fifteen minutes later, chris would follow—always separate, never too close. they’d exchange the briefest of glances from across the room, a silent connection only they understood. it was painful, sometimes. the way they had to pretend like they weren’t everything to each other.

dates were no easier. sneaking around, always choosing quiet places where no one would recognize them. no fancy restaurants, no downtown bars. instead, they found peace in late-night drives to nowhere, deserted parks where they could sit under the stars, or small coffee shops on the outskirts of town, the ones no one ever visited.

"wish we didn’t have to do this," sof whispered one night as they sat by the beach, waves crashing softly in the background. her fingers traced absent patterns in the sand.

"i know," chris replied, his arm wrapped tightly around her, pulling her closer as if holding her could erase the world outside. "but soon…"

their phones were another challenge entirely. no photos, no videos, nothing that could tie them to each other. even when chris wanted to post a goofy picture of sof laughing at something he said or when sof caught him in one of those rare moments of pure, unguarded joy, they knew better. sharing those moments meant risking exposure, and they weren’t ready for that. not yet.

on streams, it was even more of a dance. chris would be playing a game with his brothers, the usual banter going on, and suddenly, sof’s name would light up his phone screen. he’d glance down quickly, texting back in record time, before anyone could notice. but matt and nick noticed. they always noticed.

"dude, you’ve got that ‘i’m texting sof’ smile on," matt would tease, barely hiding a smirk.

chris would shrug it off, but he knew it was true. that glow, that warmth, he couldn’t help it. sof did that to him. but he had to be careful, make sure not to linger on his phone too long, make sure the camera didn’t catch the way his face lit up when her message came through.

nick, always the editor, would groan. "seriously, stop smiling at your phone. i can’t cut that out every time."

chris would laugh, but the truth was, every time sof texted, he couldn’t help but smile. it was instinct, the way his heart raced just a little faster with each message.

then, there were the small, intimate ways they stayed connected even when apart. sof wearing chris’s hoodie, its sleeves hanging past her hands, smelling faintly of him. chris wearing a bracelet she gave him, something simple but meaningful, a secret only they shared. and sometimes, on stream or in a video, they’d wear matching outfits—a subtle nod to each other, but one the fans never picked up on.

and then… it was over. the hiding, the secrecy—it was all about to end.

they sat in the living room, the four of them—chris, sof, matt, and nick—huddled around a laptop. the video was ready. their moment of truth. it was a simple clip: chris and sof laughing, kissing, no longer hiding. a soft, intimate reveal of what had been there all along.

sof’s hands trembled as she sat beside chris. "what if this was a mistake?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, eyes filled with worry.

chris turned to her, his eyes soft, his hand gently squeezing hers. "we’re ready," he said, his voice low and calming. "i’m right here with you."

matt chimed in, always the voice of reassurance. "people are gonna love this, sof. you guys deserve to be happy, out in the open."

nick nodded from the computer, finger hovering over the ‘post’ button. "it’s time."

sof took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. the past months of hiding, the sneaking around, the lies—it all came down to this moment. "okay," she said softly, looking up at chris. "let’s do it."

nick clicked the button. the video went live.

as the video went live, there was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. sof’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath caught somewhere between anticipation and fear. she sat next to chris on the couch, her hands gripping his tightly. she didn’t even realize how hard she was holding onto him until he gently squeezed back, reminding her he was there.

“it’s okay,” chris whispered, leaning in closer, his voice soft in her ear. “we’re doing this together.”

sof looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of vulnerability. “what if it’s too much? what if they—” she paused, her voice shaky. “what if they don’t understand?”

chris smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle, familiar. “then they don’t have to. all that matters is us. i don’t care what anyone says, as long as you’re with me.”

she nodded, but her nerves were still there, bubbling just under the surface. “i’ve been so scared of this moment, chris. i feel like i’ve been holding my breath for months.”

he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his thumb lightly tracing circles on her skin. “i know. me too. but it’s over now. we don’t have to hide anymore.” he kissed her forehead softly, lingering there for a moment, grounding her. “you’re mine, and i’m yours. and now… everyone knows.”

sof let out a shaky breath, leaning into his chest, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie—his favorite one that she’d ‘borrowed’ so many times. “it feels unreal,” she murmured. “like we’ve been living in this bubble and now… it’s just out there for everyone to see.”

“hey,” chris lifted her chin gently, his eyes locking with hers, filled with nothing but warmth. “it’s real. you and me? we’ve been real since day one. and now, we can finally stop pretending we’re just friends when we’re out. i don’t have to sit on the other side of the room anymore just so people won’t suspect anything.” he laughed softly, remembering all the times they had to do just that.

sof smiled, a small laugh escaping her too. “and no more sneaking around on dates or making sure we’re not caught in the same place on our instagram stories.”

“exactly,” chris said, his tone playful, but there was something deeper in his voice. he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “we’ve been through so much just to keep this ours. but now… it’s time to let the world see how much you mean to me.”

sof’s heart melted at his words, her eyes filling with emotion. “you really mean that?”

“more than anything,” chris whispered, his forehead resting against hers now. “i love you, sof. so much. and i’m done hiding it. i want everyone to know that you’re the one who makes me happier every single day.”

she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, but they weren’t from fear or nerves—they were from relief, from love. “i love you too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers clutching the front of his hoodie as if she couldn’t bear to let him go. “you have no idea how much.”

chris smiled, that soft, adoring smile he reserved only for her. “i think i have a pretty good idea,” he teased gently, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. it was sweet and lingering, filled with everything they’d kept hidden for so long.

when they pulled back, sof rested her head against his shoulder, curling up into him like she always did when they were alone, the rest of the world fading away. “i can’t believe it’s over,” she whispered, her voice small but full of relief. “no more secrets.”

chris held her close, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair, his voice soft and full of love. “no more secrets,” he repeated. “just us, finally.”

they stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, wrapped up in the comfort of being together without having to hide anymore. the world outside could say whatever it wanted—good, bad, indifferent. none of it mattered.

what mattered was this—chris and sof, together, no more sneaking around, no more hiding. just them, out in the open, free to love each other the way they always had but now with the whole world watching.

and in that moment, sof felt lighter than she had in months. because for the first time in a long time, they didn’t have to pretend.

——————————————————————————

i hope you enjoyed it. if you have requests leave them down below.

lilsoftext <3

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #chris x you #matt x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt x y/n #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo

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djloveyou3000 · 2 months ago

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Belladonna

Chapter six

Russell Adler wasn’t an easy man to know, but with Bell, it was different. From the moment they met, he had been attuned to them in ways that surprised even him. He read them like an open book, always a step ahead of their thoughts and feelings. But this wasn’t just a skill—it was a need. A part of him craved to be the only one who could understand Bell so completely, the only one they could rely on.

Dr. Leslie, seated across from them, adjusted her glasses and leaned forward slightly. “Okay,” she began, her voice steady and kind. “Russell has already told me everything I need to know, so you don’t need to go over anything unless you want to.”

Bell exhaled, the weight on their chest easing slightly. “Thank you,” they murmured, their voice quiet but genuine.

Dr. Leslie nodded, her expression warm yet professional. “We’re going to start with exposure therapy today. Russell mentioned you’ve been struggling with certain sounds and visuals, especially static on TVs and the ringing of bells. These are triggers, and we’re going to work on easing their hold on you. But this will be at your pace—whenever you feel ready.”

Bell’s hands tightened in their lap. The idea alone made their pulse quicken, but Russell’s hand gave theirs a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” he murmured softly, his lips close to their ear. “I’m right here. Always.”

His words, paired with his touch, gave Bell the courage they needed. After several tense moments, they finally nodded, their breathing uneven but steady enough to speak. “I’m ready.”

Dr. Leslie smiled and stood, rolling a small television set into the room. She placed it as far from Bell as possible, respecting their need for space. She adjusted the volume, the low hum of static filling the room. The sound was faint, but Bell immediately tensed, their body rigid as memories clawed their way to the surface.

Dr. Leslie began switching channels, the screen flickering with flashes of gray and distorted images. For Bell, it was like being transported back into their darkest moments. The world around them dissolved into a foggy haze, the sharp, piercing sound of static growing louder in their ears. The faint ringing of bells layered over the noise, creating a cacophony that drowned out everything else.

Bell’s breathing grew erratic, their chest heaving as they gripped their head tightly. They didn’t even realize they had slid off the couch onto the floor, their knees pressing against the cold tiles. Their vision blurred, gray tones replacing the colors of the room. They felt trapped, suffocating in a loop of past horrors that refused to let go.

Suddenly, two strong hands cupped their face, breaking through the fog. Warm lips pressed against theirs, a lifeline pulling them out of the chaos. The static and ringing dulled, fading into the background as Russell’s presence took over. His kiss was firm but gentle, filled with a quiet desperation to bring them back to him.

When Bell’s eyes fluttered open, the gray haze was gone, replaced by the sharp clarity of Russell’s face. His aviators were off, his piercing eyes staring into theirs with a mix of worry, guilt, and fierce protectiveness. There was something else in his gaze too, something darker—a possessiveness that made Bell’s breath hitch.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing their cheek as he held their face steady. His voice was steady, but the tremor of concern was impossible to miss.

Bell nodded weakly, their throat too tight to speak. They glanced around, noticing the TV was now off, its screen black. The echoes of static still lingered faintly in their mind, but it was bearable now, no longer overwhelming.

Dr. Leslie handed Bell a glass of water, but before they could take it, Russell intercepted, taking the glass in his hand. He brought it to their lips himself, holding it steady as they drank. “There we go, baby,” he murmured in Russian, his voice low and possessive. “You’re okay. You’re with me, and that’s all you need. Just me. Only me.”

His words sent a shiver down Bell’s spine. They finished the water, their trembling hands gripping Russell’s arm for support.

Dr. Leslie, ever practical, suggested some fresh air. “The balcony might do you some good,” she said with a kind smile.

Russell didn’t hesitate. He lifted Bell into his arms, cradling them as though they were made of glass. He carried them to the balcony, his every movement careful and deliberate. The crisp air hit their faces as he stepped outside, the soft sounds of the city below grounding them further.

He sat down, keeping Bell securely in his lap, their head resting against his chest. They clung to him, their tears soaking into his shirt as soft, broken cries escaped their lips.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it all out,” Russell murmured, his lips pressing against their temple. “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.”

But even as he comforted them, a dark part of him reveled in the moment. He hated seeing Bell in pain, yet he couldn’t deny the satisfaction of knowing they needed him—only him. No one else could pull them out of their spiral, not even Dr. Leslie. They clung to him like he was their lifeline, and that knowledge fed the possessive, darker side of him he kept buried.

“You know I love you, kid,” Russell whispered after a moment, his voice rough with emotion. “And I want what’s best for you.”

Bell nodded against his chest, their fingers clutching his shirt. Russell tilted their chin up, his thumb brushing their jaw as he kissed them deeply. The kiss was raw, filled with an intensity that made Bell’s head spin.

When they finally pulled apart, Bell blinked, dazed, as a thin string of saliva connected their lips. Realizing this, they let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “Ew,” they mumbled, wiping their mouth and Russell’s with the back of their hand.

Russell chuckled, his hand resting possessively on their waist. “What’s wrong, kid? We’ve done worse.”

Bell’s face turned bright red. “Shhh! Have you no shame?”

They slapped their hands over his mouth, but Russell smirked under their palms, licking and biting playfully until Bell squealed with laughter.

The playful moment escalated as Bell retaliated, ruffling Russell’s hair. His eyes narrowed, a mix of mock indignation and amusement flashing across his face. “No one touches the hair,” he declared, grabbing Bell and tickling them mercilessly.

Bell’s laughter filled the air, bright and unrestrained. Russell froze for a moment, absorbing the sound. It was the first time he had heard them laugh so openly, and a dark, possessive thought crept into his mind: This is for me. Only me.

After a while, the playful moment settled, and they returned to the room hand-in-hand. Dr. Leslie didn’t even glance up as she said, “You two better not have been fucking out there.”

Bell’s face turned crimson. “W-we weren’t!”

Russell smirked, his grip on Bell’s hand tightening. “I would’ve, but I don’t like an audience,” he quipped, earning a mortified gasp from Bell and a sharp smack to the head.

Dr. Leslie glanced up, unimpressed. “Watch it, or I’ll smack that behind. I don’t care if you’re 45, young man.”

Bell giggled. “Old man,” they teased, sticking out their tongue.

Russell narrowed his eyes. “Last I checked, I don’t have the stamina of an old man when we’re alone.”

Bell froze, their face burning red, but quickly shot back, “Unless it’s stairs.”

Russell’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Oh, you’re dead,” he growled playfully, grabbing for them as Bell giggled and ducked behind the couch.

Dr. Leslie cleared her throat, pulling their attention back. “Alright, lovebirds, enough.”

Her smile softened as she addressed Bell. “The next and last thing we’ll try today is hypnotherapy. If you’re ready, we’ll visit the lake house in your memories.”

Bell hesitated, their hands tightening around Russell’s. But his steady gaze gave them the courage they needed. “I’m ready.”

“That’s my Bell,” Russell murmured, his voice filled with quiet pride.

Dr. Leslie guided Bell to the couch, asking for their Hello Kitty necklace. Bell handed it over, explaining it was the key to their journal.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Dr. Leslie reassured with a warm smile.

With that, she began the session, guiding Bell’s focus to the gentle swing of the necklace. Slowly, they began to relax, their breathing evening out as their eyes fluttered

#russell adler #call of duty #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #cod #black ops cold war #yandere russell adler #bell #adler x bell #adlerbell

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unicorncornflakes · 1 year ago

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Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 13

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasyjournal @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller @dahlias-and-marigolds @the-knights-of-ne @bellaisasleep

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome! And sorry for the delay theses weeks, I will try to be faster in next chapters.

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing. Thank you so much for all the time that you spend with this. Thank you so much. i really aprreciate it :D

Word Count: 7.4K

“I know you don't want to see me, but could you at least take my call? We need to talk about what happened.' You deleted the message again almost automatically. Cregan had texted you almost every day that week and had called you at least five times. It wasn't like the harassment of a jealous or insistent boyfriend but more like the calls for attention from a man worried about you. You turned off the phone screen while having breakfast with your grandmother and Aemond on that Saturday morning.

You sighed in defeat, and Aemond looked over the top of the newspaper, wanting to know what was wrong with you. Alicent went on to talk about the benefit gala she did every year to raise money for the Faith of the Seven. It would be that night, and it would also coincide with being the first year that you would attend.

It was a gala dinner where the most influential personalities from all over Westeros gathered because Aemond brought them there simply to make his mother happy once a year. It would be your first time attending because you were already of legal age. Before, the agreement your parents had signed prevented any public exposure you might have. They both wanted to protect you from belonging to two of the most influential families in the seven kingdoms, but now it was different.

Aemond insisted that you would have to start participating in the few public events in which he also participated. While your father was making a weekly cover of the gossip magazines, the rest of the Targaryen brothers kept a discreet distance in the background. Understated, but not non-existent, and that was Aemond's idea for you; let the world know that you were a dragon, with the importance and responsibility that it entailed, but that you would not lose yourself in the world of luxury and pleasures in which Aegon seemed to be immersed.

The phone rang one last time, and you picked it up, annoyed. You ran your finger across the screen, ignoring the last notification of what you knew would be the only call Cregan would attempt that day, or so you thought and took a small sip of your coffee. Aemond raised an eyebrow. He knew you were hiding something from him, but making a scene in front of his mother wouldn't help you hide something you thought was too obvious, but no one seemed to notice.

"This year, I have put more desserts on the menu", your grandmother smiled at you, bringing you back to reality. "A very good selection. I know how much you like desserts," she explained sweetly and sympathetically. Your grandmother had always been quite lax with you, removing the prefects of faith, but after your birthday and what had happened, she seemed even sweeter, as if she didn't want to offend you in anything and to please you in everything. From what Aemond had told you, it was quite similar to the attitude she had taken towards him when he lost his eye.

"Thank you, Grandma." You smiled shyly at her, and Aemond smirked. The truth was that you had become even more aware of the strong bond that united Alicent and Aemond, and it seemed that the new status of your nameless relationship with him made things change between you and your grandmother. She wasn't just your grandmother anymore, at least from Aemond's perspective. On the other hand, her gesture touched you, but desserts had ceased to fascinate you since you had turned seven years old. "Who's going to the gala?" you asked curiously, not wanting to show your concern about meeting Cregan there. You couldn't face it, at least not at the time. It wasn't a question of love but because Cregan had been good to you and that, in the end, you had disappeared from his life without a trace. You were ashamed of your behaviour, but you were even more ashamed of the fact that you had changed him so quickly for the one you truly loved.

"Anyone who can afford it," Aemond replied, closing the newspaper. "The 300 kindest people in all of Westeros, but this is according to your grandmother," he chuckled, playing a joke on his mother that she reluctantly scolded, slapping her son on the arm. Alicent didn't know what was wrong with her son, but lately, he seemed happier, more cheerful, more human. Aemond had always been rigid in his convictions and behaviour. However, in recent weeks he had a behaviour similar to being in love. Your grandmother had no idea what this meant, but she was just happy for her son. She believed that he was seeing someone and that sooner or later one of her children, whom she thought would always remain sad, would give her grandchildren. Alicent had no idea how little of this happiness was left for her son, but at that breakfast, she thought that everything would be fine in the life of the most battered of her children.

"They are very important people, of that we can be sure," your grandmother smiled radiantly. She was about to start talking about her project again when your phone vibrated on the table again. Cregan was being really insistent that morning, perhaps because you suspected that he would also be attending this famous event, and he wanted to spare you the embarrassment and discomfort of meeting each other after you had ignored him, if only for your sake and Aemond's. You were beginning to see how jealous he could get over almost anything. He thought he hid it well under hisserious facade, but you were beginning to know the way he clenched his jaw, which seemed to break the teeth and bones that made it up.

"Why don't you take it?" Aemond tried to sound casual but failed in his attempt. You knew that he only demanded to know who it was, who called you so urgently on a Saturday morning. You saw him take a cigarette out of a fresh pack that he just opened at that moment. He brought it to his lips without losing sight of you, but you didn't look at him. You didn't want to talk to him about how Cregan was calling you to fix things. The old wolf was simply saying that he needed to talk to you. You heard the Zippo click and how he took a puff and then quickly blew smoke out of his nose.

"It's nothing important," you told him as you tried to continue eating breakfast. You picked up a piece of fruit and began to peel it in silence under the watchful eye of Aemond, who knew you were lying. However, this time it was not jealousy. It was just a worry that had been on his mind lately more than he wanted to admit: You didn't trust him. Or at least not to tell him everything that happened to you. It seemed as if there was some kind of barrier between you that you had built up in a way of protecting you both. For Aemond, it was beginning to be a concern. Where was all this leading you if you couldn't trust him?

"Good morning", your father appeared just then, stretching and with a tired face as he took his seat next to you at that garden table. At least he had managed to break the tension that had existed up to that moment and of which, as always, your grandmother seemed unaware. Your father ruffled your hair again, and you smiled at him. It was one of those things he should have done when you were little, but at least tried now. That was the only consolation you found. "Don't eat fruit for breakfast. That is only done if you are sick," he joked as he took a Croissant, and you laughed. Aemond looked at the two of you disapprovingly.

"Are you going to go to the gala with that face?" Aemond spoke unlovingly to his older brother, taking another drag, nearly draining the cigarette to the end. Aegon always managed to get under his skin. However, it was his brother. He had to protect him. He should always protect his family.

"It's my usual face," your father replied as he poured himself coffee under Aemond's watchful eye. That one-eyed look that always disapproved of him. His younger brother looked at him disapprovingly, having almost forgotten you at once.

"It's your face from having been partying days in a row", Aemond said as he stubbed out his cigarette, ready to scold Aegon, as always. You had rarely seen it because the three of you had met a few times in time and space together, but you were beginning to realize that it was a bit of a regular occurrence.

"Well, that's the same thing. My usual face." Your father shrugged and dunked the croissant into his coffee, ready to ignore his brother. He winked at you, and at that moment, your phone rang again. Aegon cheekily stared at your phone screen. What neither your grandmother nor Aemond dared to do, your father did shamelessly and was simply angry. "What is Cregan doing calling you?" he asked you, visibly angry. You did not answer, knowing that not telling him would anger Aemond.

"That man doesn't seem to understand endings", your grandmother spoke, worried about you. Everyone fell silent afterwards as the phone rang. Aemond's jaw clenched as if he was going to break it, and your grandmother gave you a worried look. However, it was Aegon who crossed all the lines of your privacy. After all, your father thought that Cregan was ultimately responsible for that anxiety attack that had landed you in the hospital.

"Fuck", your father picked up the phone. You tried to stop him almost desperately, but he simply took the cell phone and picked it up in an aggressive way, grinding his teeth and losing his mind for the simple fact that his puppy was suffering. Aegon was not violent. That attitude involved too much work, and he was not used to work. But, he was just starting to freak out lately under a desire to keep you safe and happy. That was all that mattered to him. He brought the phone to his ear, under the watchful eye of Aemond, who leaned back in his chair to watch the spectacle. “Listen to me well, old wolf. I want you to leave her alone,” you heard Cregan yell on the other end of the line.

"Dad, give me back the phone", you yelled at him as you followed him around the garden after he got up. You didn't want to put on any show. It wasn't your style or your ways, but it was partly your father's. Aegon, at that moment, only cared about you.

"If you don't stop calling her, believe me, there will be consequences, and I think you know very well what kind of consequences there are when you mess with dragons." You saw him sigh heavily as you tried to take his mobile while you chased him through the garden, where he was pacing nervously, trying to avoid you. Hewas going to protect you. He would do it like he hadn't in 17 years.

"Dad, please", you yelled at him again, but then you felt a hand grab you and pull you away from your father. You saw Aemond walk up to his older brother and take the phone away from him while yelling a thousand expletives at Cregan. After all, Aemond was stronger and taller than your father.

"You're an asshole.” your uncle spat on your father. At first, it had been fun to watch. "What the hell are you threatening him for? We can send whoever you want, but don't threaten him, okay? Don't even think of doing it again," he told him as he handed back your mobile. Now he was worried about what could happen. He could send a thousand guys to beat up Cregan, but he couldn't do what your father had done: yell it out in front of everyone through a phone that might be recording. He couldn't afford to be associated with acts of violence like that. Not him, not his family, or they would have problems.

“He said he had to talk to her. I won't have it after what happened,” your father yelled, now turning his anger on Aemond.

"Alright. I don't want him to talk to her either, but let me handle it." Aemond took your father by the arm and whispered in his ear. Aegon just nodded his head, and your uncle's face grew grim. You ran to talk to Aemond. You didn't want anything to happen to Cregan because you knew that nothing that happened to you was his fault. It had only been a determinant, not a cause. However, your grandmother arrived first.

"Don't even think about doing anything. I know you too well. Both of you.” Aegon ran a hand over his face in despair, but Aemond ignored her.

"Hmmm", was all he sighed as he sauntered past you. You had never seen that side of your family, but it was something that scared you. You didn't feel comfortable, and you really began to fear what might happen to Cregan, just as you saw Aemond walk away to make a call that you never knew the content of. Alicent looked worriedly at her son. He had always been protective of you, and that was already too much.

Lya had always liked flashes, cameras and glamour. Those three elements had undoubtedly been determining factors in opting for that stable relationship with your uncle Daeron. The lawyer had remained for a couple of photos with his girlfriend at the entrance to the Hightower Hotel where the gala that took so much effort and time for your grandmother was held, but finally, he had let her enjoy having a little fame for herself.

Since Lya was only known for being the 'girlfriend of…' However, she didn't care. She enjoyed it equally and would enjoy it even more after Daeron proposed to her. It shouldn't have been that long. She had endured the unspeakable among the Targaryens, and at the very least, her reward had to be a proper marriage. Something that would give her a status similar to Alicent's in that family. But, Lya was not Alicent and never would be. Daeron Targaryen's young girlfriend enjoyed the last moment in which the photographers claimed her attention. At that precise moment, Aemond Targaryen and his brother made an appearance, getting out of the main family car. Alicent got out of the car with difficulty, helped by the eldest of her children, and behind her, you appeared.

A red and black velvet gown had been your choice for that night, or rather Aemond's. He held you by the waist as you got out of the car, and in a protective gesture, he took you inside the building, holding you tight, while the attention of the photographers was torn between taking a picture of your figure that your uncle would not let go of or your father with your grandmother, who did stay at the doors of the building to the delight of many photographers.

Aemond wanted you to participate in public life, not expose yourself, and you wouldn't have been comfortable with it either, but that paternal gesture from the man who was now your lover left you cold. What would anyone think of the way he had grabbed you? Well-dressed and in keeping with the moment, he ignored you as he entered the building. Now was the time to save face, though the long, silent look he gave you as you walked away from him said it all. It was the look of a man in love, and Lya could only narrow her eyes at that spectacle. What was between you and Aemond was not normal, and Lya, she could only suspect. Daeron gently took her hand as she entered the building, but the young Stark couldn't get the thought out of her head. She had seen how Aemond held you and looked at you. She did remember what had happened between Daemon and Rhaenyra, and she couldn't ignore that you two seemed too similar. Was the rest of the Targaryens blind?

After all day alone in the family home, you found yourself even more alone at that party. You saw your Aunt Helaena and her husband, Jace, dance together in the crowd. Your father was already missing, and your grandmother was chatting with one of her pious friends. You saw Lya and Daeron equally dance together after dinner, which had been tedious and almost unbearable. To be fair, you hadn't seen Lya since that night at the smallest of the Velaryon's clubs on your father's express orders. But, at that party and after such a long time, her presence continued to bother you. You would never feel comfortable with her again. Not after her friends had aired how she saw you.

You sighed, bored, and Aemond looked at you sideways, sitting next to you at the same table where you had eaten. He smiled when he saw you slip into your seat with your arms crossed. So pretty and, at the same time, so careless. He would have loved to have ushered you into one of the upstairs rooms right then, but he was content to see you like this while one of the main investors continued to discuss numbers and figures with Aemond. Without a doubt, this was a party for everyone. Except for you.

"I'll tell Alys to send you the closing of the quarterly", Aemond commented while that man continued chattering while the face of his wife, also sitting next to him, was quite similar to yours. However, it seemed to activate the moment your uncle spoke the name of his secretary.

"Oh, speaking of Alys, I miss her at this gala", the man's wife commented with a sarcastic giggle as she scanned you up and down. You tensed. You never expected that no one would give you such an accusing and cheeky look like that in that place "... but I see that you have changed it for a younger model, right?" That woman with the pearl necklace and ancient hairstyle lashed out again, and her husband told her reprimanded her while she looked away, embarrassed. Aemond didn't even look at you, now concentrating on glaring at that woman with his one eye, but the damage was already done. A younger model? Is that how they saw you at that party? That was a hard blow to reality. Perhaps you weren't being as discreet as Aemond expected, and you saw Lya look at you and smile as she was now whispering to one of her friends. And you started to feel bad. The world was spinning.

"I have to go to the bathroom," was all you said. You needed to cool off. You needed to get out of there while you felt in an almost paranoid way how everyone was looking at you at that party. What was happening to the world?

"She is my niece. Not a fucking prostitute." Aemond spoke just as you left, and that woman paled while her husband could barely swallow. Now they were in your uncle's crosshairs, and the man knew that he would not deal with dragons again. Much to his regret. All because of his wife's big mouth and her way of pointing out subtleties that weren't as subtle as the great Aemond Targaryen believed and his family of dragons refused to see.

You got your neck and chest slightly wet. Not the face. That would be spoiling the makeup that they had put on you in that very expensive beauty salon that your uncle had paid for. The red lips in the tone that he himself had chosen, you looked overwhelmed. You needed to get out of there. You began to believe in the words that your mother had always said and in her refusal to attend that party.

Also, you were beginning to believe that everyone was looking at you as if everyone suspected what was happening between you and Aemond, but you were discreet, right? Definitely yes. Never a major gesture in public. Never. So much sacrifice. Only, he had taken you by the waist in a protective gesture, and the way he looked at you said much more than any of his gestures.

You sighed slowly as if you were trying to regulate your agitated breathing, your anxiety. You saw yourself in front of that mirror in that lonely bathroom. The focus of attention was on you. You needed to get back to Aemond's side, not worry him and tell him that you wanted to go home. Make love in your room. Normalize what you felt for each other. No more secrets. Shout it out if necessary. But you knew you couldn't. So you were content with wanting to return only to his side. You left the bathroom for it after taking a deep breath and steeling yourself to face that crowded room.

"You look spectacular", you heard a familiar voice just behind you. You turned, and there he was, the man you'd been trying to ignore all week. Cregan has his hands in his pants pockets, dressed in a suit befitting the occasion like everyone else. He smiled sadly at you, and you almost blanched. He was well groomed, yet his eyes showed a lack of sleep. Two large dark circles under his eye sockets were proof that Cregan Stark, the old wolf of Winterfell, had been almost without sleep since he had returned to the capital.

"Thank you," was all you answered, looking away from him but unable to move from the spot. A small part of you told you that you should have taken some of his calls, answered some text, stood there and let him put his arms around you, but you were in love with Aemond.

Cregan was nothing to you anymore if he ever was. Cregan was the right choice. It always would be, but not always, the right choices are the ones we want to make. "I have to go," was all you could think of to say, almost scared to have found him. That simple exchange of words would make Aemond jealous, and this was something you did not want to experience again. Besides, you were also dreading the prospect of talking to Cregan. It scared you in a way you couldn't explain. You'd ignored him, and you'd ignored him because the girl from just a month ago would have seen herself capable of taking on anything, but you weren't that girl anymore. You had lost strength as if you were starting to let Aemond take care of everything. You weren't you anymore, were you? In the end, it all came down to the fact that you had developed an irrational fear of betraying, harming or offending Aemond.

"Wait", Cregan grabbed your bare arm, and that only caused you anxiety. What would Aemond think if he saw you like this, with his body so close to yours? With the northerner claiming you so fiercely? "Please, (Y/N), wait", he whispered to you, looking into your eyes with the sincerity that characterized him. I understand that you don't want to see me. I heard what happened after I left, but we need to talk." His hand loosened its grip on your arm.

"I don't want to talk, Cregan," you told him without taking your eyes off the ground. You were taking too long. You had only told Aemond that you would go to the bathroom and come back. He must have been worried about you, and you were just being hindered by Cregan. "I don't need to talk."

“Everyone needs to talk about what's wrong with them, (Y/N)", he whispered to you and at that moment, his eyes met yours. You wish Aemond was like this. You wish, sometimeAemond would open up so much to you that you could understand what was going on inside his head. You let your guard down, and Cregan smiled. A sincere and sad smile. "What happened… what happened to you and you going to the hospital was terrible."

"It had nothing to do with you", you replied, looking away from him. Cregan cradled your face in his hands, caressing your chin and lips. This was another kind of love, very different from Aemond's, completely different.

"Even if it had nothing to do with me, I feel just as guilty", he whispered, trying to calm you down, trying to protect you. "I know that something has changed, and you don't want to see me again, but... I still like you, and I'm still in love with you, with your smile, with that beautiful way you had to bite your lip when we made love..." he moaned almost desperately for one more minute by your side. Cregan had always been a lovesick man. Yet you had managed to drive him crazy in ways he couldn't understand. The time he had spent in Winterfell without you had been eternal and painful, even more, hurtful when what had happened to you after his departure reached his ears. The old wolf always fixed things and wanted to be there to fix you. "Please, I only ask you for a coffee. You and I. Alone and calm. Without your family, Just you and me. Fix what we can fix…"

"I-I can't", you sighed, defeated because in front of you was a man even more defeated than you. You did not want to be alone with Cregan because you knew that in your heart, it was this affection that you had always needed and would always need. You would have killed for Aemond to have shown half the devotion Cregan had for you, but you knew your uncle was too arrogant for it. You looked Cregan in the eye to say goodbye and to close that chapter once and for all when you heard your father's voice right behind you.

"I told you to leave her alone!" he roared as he grabbed your arm to pull you away from Cregan. You had never seen your father violent, but he scared you at the time, just as his fist met Cregan's jaw and Cregan made a sound of pain. The girl who was with your father and whose presence you only became aware of then shrieked. And then there was only scandal, screams and people. A security guard grabbed your father, who was almost determined to kill Cregan, and Aemond hugged you as he found you in the crowd. That night two rumours began to resonate even louder throughout the King's Landing: Cregan had been to blame for what had happened to you, and your relationship with Aemond was too close.

Daeron sat wearily on the bed. He sighed and looked at the ceiling. At least he had managed to get Cregan not to press charges after a punch from Aegon. That was progress. The old wolf of Winterfell said he understood your father. After all, Cregan Stark was also the father of several girls. Daeron couldn't remember how many, but he was a father after all. Aegon would never know how to handle his emotions when it had to do with you. At least from the perspective of the smallest of dragons.

The youngest of your uncles fell on the bed after loosening his tie and would have let himself sleep there if it weren't for the fact that he had visitors that night. Lya came out of the bedroom bathroom wrapped in the bathrobe that a few months ago she had insisted on leaving at her boyfriend's house. Daeron hated that young Stark left her things at his house. It was almost a way to increase their commitment. A commitment Daeron was less and less sure of. Lya was capricious and spoiled at times as if being his longest-lasting girlfriend gave her permission to always have her own way.

Daeron leaned back on the bed to watch her as she sat at the dresser she'd asked for a few months ago. He had ended up buying it so he wouldn't have to listen to her. Those were the relationships that stuck, right? Give in to not listen to your loved one. Although, he doubted that he was in love with her. What was love? Has he ever felt it? He watched her remove her makeup in silence while she looked at him in the reflection of that mirror. He remembered that vacation in Pentos with the girl he really liked in college. The one whose parents, true descendants of Old Valyria, had rejected Daeron for his 'tainted' blood. After all, Alicent was the only one who didn't come from a place like this. This vague and imprecise concept that made Aemond proud was just a hoax. They were nothing similar. They never would be, and perhaps with that idea, Daeron had started dating Lya. He would never live up to what their last names were supposed to carry.

"You're very quiet." Lya woke him from his musings, and Daeron stared at the ceiling, weary. He needed a vacation away from his family.

"I was thinking that I'm glad your cousin didn't file a complaint with my brother," he lied because he didn't want to tell Lya what was going through his head because he didn't want to talk to her about how he felt that the relationship was going nowhere. Lya laughed cheekily, and Daeron looked at her again, confused. "What are you laughing at?"

"That my cousin would never press charges against Aegon. He still hopes to end up between (Y/N) 's legs." She smiled again in an unpleasant way as she turned around. Her brown eyes locked with Daeron's. "Poor fool. That place is already taken and awarded to another man. Only a fool or those who refuse to see reality would not see it." She shrugged and continued combing her hair.

"Pardon…?" Daeron started to speak, but Lya cut him off with a cocky smile and a know-it-all look.

"Aemond is fucking your niece. Are you going to tell me it's not true?" She challenged him. She challenged him because Daeron had never dared to raise a word higher than another against his girlfriend, because they had never argued, because he had always given in until Aegon made it clear that he did not want to see Lya again for a long time. She had hurt (Y/N) with her words, and it was clear that she was only with him for his money. She challenged him because he had removed her from his life with a few simple words from his older brother. She challenged him because she was hurt by the way he had pushed her away in an affront against you.

"They have always been very close," was all he could think of to say in answer to your farce. He also had the same suspicions, but he would never dare say them out loud. His conversations with Helaena had advised him to do so.

"Like Daemon and Rhaenyra", she sneered again, and Daeron couldn't take it anymore. He got up and did the unthinkable. Lya kept giggling silently, and her boyfriend grabbed her by the neck, pushing her against the wall. She went cold and saw a more dragon-like fury in Daeron's eyes. Daeron was never going to suffer the same embarrassment that happened to his older sister. The thing that had traumatized him to the point of saying enough, that had embarrassed him. It could be happening. He wasn't the one to reveal it, much less Lya.He would never again live with the shame of such a scandal. Because if Daeron had lived in fear of anything in his life, it was the shame he had felt for all those years until people forgot what had happened between his uncle and Rhaenyra. He squeezed Lya's neck again. That gallant knight, the meekest of dragons, was willing to take out his claws so as not to be embarrassed again.

"Don't you dare suggest something like that again," he whispered between his teeth. "Have you understood me?" He shook her again, and Lya just nodded in frightened silence.

For the first time, Daeron had brought out the angry, fucked-up dragon in him, and Lya knew that the one she had taken for a panoli with money would never ask her to marry him again.

He had offered him a cigarette, and Cregan had refused. He had given up smoking when his second wife insisted on it, for his health and for the curtains not to smell of smoke. The northerner had given in. He always gave in when it came to women. A true gentleman. Every woman's dream until they got bored of it. Cregan had never left a single one of his relationships. It had always been the other party who had insisted on leaving him. He believed that things could have been fixed by talking. He was old school. And with you, he thought exactly the same, but it was clear that your paternal family would never let him get close to you again.

"Just give me a number, and I'll pay you." Aemond Targaryen, CEO of Targaryen Industries, was in front of him. The dragon was indeed smoking. Leaning back in his large leather chair, as he stared at Cregan Stark with his one eye. He had invited him into her office that morning, just after Aegon had given him a black eye, to 'talk business'. Cregan had come with the hope that these businesses would address your situation, but he found that Aemond simply wanted to buy him the project that a month ago had seemed ridiculous to him.

Cregan wasn't stupid. He knew that this was a subtle and veiled form of blackmail. If he sold his project for an exorbitant amount of money, he was selling his silence at the same time. A nice and elegant way to mask everything that had happened at the gala the night before. It was a clear subtext that Aemond Targaryen wanted to offer him: 'I bought your project in exchange for not denouncing my brother and, in exchange for your silence for any statement you could make'. That was what dragons always tried to do. To master absolutely everything. The northerner scribbled an absurdly high figure on a piece of paper and offered it to Aemond silently. He didn't want to be there. Your uncle accepted that. Aemond just looked at the paper without showing a single reaction and picked up the phone in his office. Cregan watched in disbelief as he asked Alys to set up a transfer for the amount the old wolf had put on that piece of paper.

"If that was all." Cregan started to rise from his seat when Aemond waved him back to sit down. The northerner obeyed in silence but only lifted his chin in a haughty gesture. He knew that now the topic of conversation was going to be you. Your uncle thought that he had bought Cregan with such a sum of money, perhaps he had, but he wanted to make sure that everything would return to normal after such a monetary exchange.

Aemond fell silent, a warning. "I don't want you to see her again" he was direct in his request, much less violent than his older brother, but just as threatening and possessive of you. "Don't even try to talk to her. I want you to disappear from her life."

"I suppose that this request is included in such an amount of money", Cregan replied in a bad manner. The northern challenged him. Anyone else would have nodded and gone bowing to the King of King's Landing. But Cregan Stark didn't care. Never again would dragons intimidate him.

"All men have a price, and you have written it on a piece of paper," Aemond replied. He leaned back on his desk and offered Cregan up again. "I'm going to be magnanimous, I can offer you twice as much, but it's best that you never go near her again. I'm not going to be so nice if you do it again," he smiled. One of the corners of his lips turned up. A sneer and menace crossed Aemond's face.

"You don't scare me." Cregan would never understand what was going through Aemond's head with you. He didn't think it was a healthy relationship or even logical, and yet your uncle didn't seem to want you to be happy in the eyes of others. Aemond was used to doing and undoing everything. You were not an exception.

"I know, but I think you should think about those around you" Aemond smiled again, almost laughing at Cregan. “Your eldest son Rickon is starting college at Dreadfort College this year. The streets there are dangerous, but I think that's something you already know about.” Aemond began speaking in a confident tone.

"Look…" Cregan was also planning to counterattack, but surely your uncle was much more versed in threatening than Cregan. Aemond had always grown to own everything, and he was going to prove it to the northerner.

"And I know that the kindergarten where you take the smallest of your offspring is extremely elitist, but it is not free of dangers, Cregan." He smiled again. "By the way, you should keep a closer eye on your twin daughters' nights out. It would be a shame if something happened to them in one of the clubs they frequent. You have ten children, I can go on, but I think you are already catching on to how all this is going."

Of course, he was getting it. For Cregan, the main thing was his children. Aemond Targaryen reminded him right in that conversation that Cregan might not be scared of what happened to him, but he was scared of what could happen to his children. Cregan just got up. Willing to go, he wouldn't bother you again because he knew Aemond was capable of anything. He was a dangerous man and always would be, but he turned away. Ready to challenge him one last time, trying to appeal to his conscience. "You're never going to make her happy..."

"She is happy; with me, she is happy. And always will be," your uncle spoke for the last time to the northerner without looking at him. His gloomy face against the light of the enormous window of his office. And at that precise moment, Cregan understood what was wrong with you. He would never say anything. It was just another form of dominance, but he was repulsed at imagining the very thing your uncle had confessed was going on between you. Those who do not remember their history are doomed to repeat it, and it seemed that Aemond Targaryen did not remember the same thing that had happened to his uncle.

"It is quite expensive, but it is a good project", Alys woke Aemond from his thoughts. He was looking out the window of his office. It was almost dark. However, he did not want to go home. He didn't want to look you in the eye right now and think about how he had threatened Cregan so he wouldn't see you again. It wasn't something he was proud of. He wasn't proud of any of the actions he'd taken to keep you by his side. He would never be. But he needed to be with you. That was all he needed. He knew it. He needed you by his side. His. Even if you were to go to Sunspear, you would still be his. He would take care of it. “It will triumph in the congress next week. I've already booked our rooms and…” Alys started blathering on about dates and meetings. She pretended that everything was fine between them for the good of the company, for her benefits within it, but Aemond was about to blow up that feigned peace for your good, for your uncle's idea of what was your good.

“(Y/N) and I are going to the congress. Us two alone. Nobody else. You will stay here and run my schedule. I know you know how to do it. You don't need to come.” Aemond gave a firm order, and Alys's world came crashing down.

No one had the right to remove her from her post, not after working so long at that company. She was almost as important a figure as Aemond. She…she had always given her all for Targaryen Industries. She had betrayed Daemon for the good of the company, for his command to pass into the hands of someone more just but, Aemond was becoming his own uncle by leaps and bounds, and Alys was going to suffer the consequences of it.

"You are kidding, right?" It was all she answered as she felt her legs give way. No. This couldn't be happening. Alys could be many things, but she was a hard worker. The Sunspear Conference was her favourite time of the year. The time to shine, the time to be more than just a secretary. Everyone was talking about her effectiveness at that congress. She hadn't missed it once in the last 30 years. She had even attended more than Aemond had. She was the visible face of Targaryen Industries at that congress, and everything was going to change because of you. It was inadmissible.

“I want you to book the suite in any of the luxury hotels. I don't care where it is. Another smaller room next door. We can't raise suspicions.” Aemond followed his idea, ignoring each and every one of the astonished grimaces that were drawn on Alys' face.

"Aemond, I have to go," she yelled at him, almost desperate. She couldn't let anyone put out her light. She had given everything for the company. She was the one who had placed Aemond in his position. Her mind, her intelligence could not give any more. Her life was that company and nothing more. She hadn't sacrificed so much to be now placed in her simple secretary position. She didn't care that Aemond hadn't taken her to the charity dinner. She didn't care, but not when this was so extremely important.

"Alys, I think you are forgetting your place in this company. Am I going to have to remind you?" Aemond's jaw set, and Alys turned, determined to leave. Aemond Targaryen was ungrateful and didn't know who he was messing with. No doubt he was biting off more than he could chew.

An old but elegant clock marked midnight in that house in the Summer Islands. Subtle, muted cream curtains swayed in the breeze, and light from a pool in the garden shed some light on the quiet room. Old volumes of the history of Ancient Valyria between modern detective novels and political books. Daemon Targaryen had always been a man of eclectic tastes, but what he enjoyed most was a glass of whiskey and a good book.

That rather comfortable and elegant house seemed to sleep. An old photo of Daemon and Rhaenyra sat on a high teakwood mantel on which Dark Sister also rested, an old family heirloom. Proof that the Targaryens had always been into weaponry. When Daemon left his beloved company, that sword and that photo were the only things that had accompanied him to his sad exile from the rest of the mortals. His had almost seemed the most unforgivable of sins. Sitting in the darkness of his living room, an ageing Daemon thought about everything that had destroyed him and led to this situation. Aemond had never deprived him of any luxury. That was true. He had assigned him a lifetime salary, which Daemon enjoyed and squandered in his elegant home on the Summer Isles. He was still drinking a bottle of whiskey a week and fucking a different woman almost every night, but he was missing something. He was missing his beloved Rhaenyra.

Although his nephew thought himself very cunning, Daemon knew who had leaked the information. The only problem was that it seemed impossible to hit back at a man who had shielded his private life almost masterfully. Daemon wondered if his one-eyed nephew ever enjoyed life. But, that night, while reflecting on it as, almost every night, the phone rang, and Daemon Targaryen received the most important call of his life. Someone had betrayed Aemond Targaryen, and you were going to be one of the collateral victims of the revenge that Daemon was certain to execute on Aemond.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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nenelonomh · 9 months ago

Text

blue light

blue light is a type of visible light with short, high-energy waves. its wavelength ranges from approximately 380 nanometers (violet light) to 700 nanometers (red light). blue light waves are only slightly longer and less powerful than ultraviolet (UV) waves, which are invisible to the naked eye.

blue light is encountered from various sources, including the sun, fluorescent bulbs, incandescent lights and digital screens.

when sunlight enters the atmosphere, blue light waves scatter off nitrogen and oxygen particles. these particles are perfectly suited to deflect blue light, giving the sky its characteristic blue hue. during sunset, the longer path of sunlight allows more blue light to dissipate, revealing the warm red and gold tones we associate with a gorgeous sunset.

blue light penetrates our eyes and reaches the retina at the back of the eye. while the cornea and lens protect us from harmful UV rays, they don't block out blue light. approximately one-third of visible light is considered high-energy visible (HEV) or blue light. some experts believe that prolonged exposure to blue light from screens may contribute to digital eyestrain and affect our sleep cycles.

blue light exposure during the day helps to regulate our circadian rhythm, keeping us alert and awake.

excessive blue light exposure, especially at night, can interfere with sleep patterns. some studies suggest that chronic exposure to blue light may contribute to macular degeneration (a condition affecting central vision). however, conclusive evidence is still lacking.

to reduce blue light exposure, : ̗̀➛ use blue light filters on screens or wear blue light-blocking glasses : ̗̀➛ limit screen time before bedtime : ̗̀➛ consider using warm-toned lighting in the evening

for further exploration on the topic of blue light: healthline sleep foundation all about vision vision centre web md

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her-devils-advocate · 8 days ago

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Through the Mist | Part 5

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

summary: When a routine mission to rescue and recruit a handful of scientists goes wrong, Shepard and her team are left to fight against something they had never expected to face. Now stranded on a heavily fog-covered planet, they realise there is more to the strange weather than they originally thought, especially when they hear things from beyond the fog; calling for them.

word count: 4,298

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60592000/chapters/158395303

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A scratching gargle assaults their ears as a fragmented voice stutters through the white noise. Shepard carefully lifts the datapad, keeping it parallel to the ground so that the screen remains intact, as the audio begins to clear up. The voice fighting through the interference wins its battle. The garbled words being spat out find clarity and reveal themselves to the duo.

“If you are listening to this, I’m sorry, and to make this easier for you, the only thing you should be hearing during this recording is my voice. Whatever else you might hear isn’t real.

“What we’ve done here, it’s unforgivable, but we had no choice. They told us that we were making a weapon and that we would be helping to protect our colonies out in the Traverse and Terminus systems. That doesn’t change the fact that we’ve rendered an entire planet unhospitable. Enough is enough, I can’t undo what we’ve created, but I can help prevent unnecessary exposure. I’m recording this in secret. If they find out about this…

“Well that doesn’t matter now, it’s too late for me anyway. If you are here and listening, you are more than aware of what I’m talking about. The things that lurk in the fog. They’re not real, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you. You’re not safe here. I’m sorry.”

The man’s voice wavers and he has to take a deep breath to compose himself. Out of fear or guilt, Shepard wagers, but she finds herself breathing alongside him, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart in tandem with the mysterious man. Garrus’ eyes are glued onto the datapad as if his stare can instantly pry out all of its secrets.

Shepard opens her mouth to speak during a lull in the recording, but Garrus shakes his head, silencing her. His eyes flick back to the corner of the room and his muscles contract so tightly that he begins to shake. His eyes flick towards Shepard and then back to the corner, followed by a small tilt of his head. She nods in response and waits for the man to continue.

“My entire team is dead. I am the only one that remains, for now. You can’t hear it, only I can, but something is trying to get into the room. It’s coming for me. It’s crying and scratching against the door, but I can’t let that distract me from confessing.

“Those Exogeni bastards lied to us. It should have been obvious when we were hired as an additional support group, acting outside their cooperation. We take the fall while they hide from everything they’ve made us do. We should have said no, that we wouldn’t help them, but they hid the full truth until it was too late. It kills through fear, it can’t physically harm you, but no one is immune to cardiac arrest or… being so scared you would rather die by your own hand over whatever it's shown you. That’s what happened to most of my team, one by one they fell to horrors of our own making. I’m so sorry.”

Shepard peers around the room, the fog that had been locked out of the room now seeps under the door, sneaking towards them. She glances behind her and instantly regrets it, the hexadecimal face grins down at her. It’s smile is warped, the data glitching as it falls past the expression. She quickly averts her eyes when it manages to stretch even wider.

“It’s the fog, we made it.”

The admission causes the hair on the back of Shepard’s neck to rise, along with a shiver creeping up her spine. Her eyes snap to Garrus and she finds him already staring at her. She watches as a mixture of expressions pass over his face in rapid succession before he lands on horror.

“How long have we been breathing it in…?” He whispers as if he’s unable to find the strength to ask the question. Shepard just pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes falling shut.

“For way too long.” She replies dejectedly. She reaches out to grasp at his forearm and he meets her halfway, his hand grabbing onto hers in response. “Vega…”

The voice continues, effectively cutting her off and growing shakier with each sentence as he throws them deeper into despair. A faint tapping catches Shepard’s attention, competing to be heard over the man’s voice. It keeps a steady rhythm, like the drumming of fingers along a solid surface, one by one, with elongated nails colliding against it with each impact.

He lets out a startled whimper, muttering something under his breath before he sighs deeply. He clears his throat as if to buy him what little time he has left to mentally prepare for what comes next.

“There’s no easy way to say this, and whatever is outside is getting more frantic, I don’t know how much time I have left to explain before it… So I’ll give you the basics. It’s Species 37, or more importantly, the spores Exogeni extracted from it were handed over for us to test. While the creature's mental control ended after its death, they still made us experiment on them, to see what was possible with the remains. We were able to manipulate these spores and harness part of their mental control possibilities, not in the same way as the Thorian, of course. Instead, we found a way to have them affect the amygdala. We were successful, God, it’s a scientific breakthrough, but the price we paid was too high. I’m sure you can agree.”

A light, breathy laughter follows his words, overlapping with his voice. Shepard’s skin grows cold and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, but the man continues, unperturbed by the new addition.

“The fog will latch onto your darkest moments and fears. The things that you bury deep inside because it hurt too much, it will use it against you. It already has, hasn’t it? It will warp itself, it won’t be obvious at first. It will hide. Sometimes it will be a deceased loved one, sometimes it’s a random person you’ve never met. Sometimes it manages to be both. I’ve not managed to document everything we’ve seen, there wasn’t enough time and it seems to be evolving. Some of the scientists here have started to see random things, things that we can’t seem to connect to any specific person. Forgive me.

“There is no excuse for what we’ve done. This isn’t a weapon, it’s so much worse. If more than one person is under its effect, it manages to create a sort of mental link between them. A form of shared hallucination.

“It was supposed to be contained, or so we thought. We thought we were simply the scientists developing it, but we were supposed to be the control group as well. I guess we were, in the end. I’ve destroyed most of the research, no one deserves this fate. But in doing so, I released more of the fog into the atmosphere. This is all that remains of our sin. This datapad and the planet itself. Please, for all of our sakes, destroy both. I- No… You can’t be here. Please, I’m sorry, please don’t-”

He cuts himself off with an ear-piercing scream, causing Shepard to jolt and send the datapad tumbling to the ground. The impact causes the screen to shatter; it finally gives up its fight and dies, taking the man’s voice away with it and leaving the duo in stunned silence. Shepard turns to look down at the corpse beside them, a mixture of disgust and pity filling her eyes.

“Exogeni… It was them the entire time.” She mutters, disdain lacing her words.

“And here I thought we were done with the Thorium,” Garrus adds with a sigh.

The soft tapping picks up again as if it’s trying to crawl its way out of the remains of the datapad at her feet, demanding its presence be known. It grows louder and louder until it causes Shepard’s head to throb.

Shepard quickly brings an arm up to cover the lower portion of her face, doing all she can to prevent breathing in more of the fog. Garrus follows her lead, looking around the room to find something to cover the bottom of the door with. He grabs one of the spare research jackets from its hook on the wall and shoves it into the gap, letting his head hang once it proves to be a solid barrier. Exhaustion and dread blankets the room in the fog's place.

“How’s your imaginary friend? Still staring you down from the corner?” She asks as she watches him dart around the room. Garrus double-checks the corner before resuming his task, shaking his head when he does.

“Still there, how about yours?”

Shepard spins on her heel to stare down the sinister face, only to glare at a blank screen instead. “Mine has vanished, thankfully.”

She raises a single eyebrow at the screen and tilts her head, the movement catching something in the corner of her eye. She spots something large propped up against the furthest wall, half drowned in shadows and a greying, dusty sheet. She turns to look at Garrus, who is still fussing with the door. She bites her lip in thought before her curiosity wins and she slowly starts to move towards it.

The air grows thick, a dizzying miasma that seeps into her pores. The room is still, its only occupants being far too afraid to stir up any energy and potentially breathe life into their fears. As she continues to slowly wade her way towards the object, she feels a presence falling in line behind her and strengthening her resolve with each unsteady step.

As they grow closer, she feels Garrus close the distance between them. His eyes bore into the back of her head, their weight heavier than the fog outside. Shepard can feel his breath on the back of her neck, heavy and warm, and despite the warmth of it, all Shepard can feel is her skin chilling as goosebumps follow its path.

She keeps her voice low and her head forward, whispering hollow reassurances behind her, “It’s okay, it can’t hurt us, remember?”

She is met with no reply, only silence and an oppressive heat against her back.

She steps forward, he steps even closer.

Even with the safety he provides, Shepard can’t help but notice that her skin has started growing clammy and that her hands are beginning to shake.

Her body tries to warn her, to urge her to turn around and look behind her. She slowly gives in to the urge and turns her head to the side, peeking behind her through the corner of her eye and instantly wishing she never had.

Garrus stares up at her from his spot by the door, finally done with his small cloth barricade, and now watches her from the other side of the room.

She takes a deep breath and feels it get caught in her throat before she turns back and tentatively reaches for the cloth. She holds her breath when she yanks it off, finding herself face-to-face with her reflection.

A floor-length mirror stands alone in the back of the research base.

Shepard stares wide-eyed into its silver screen, her heart comes to a rapid stop when she notices it.

A figure stands behind her in the mirror. Dark shadows obscure its face, but from what she can see, it seems to tower over her. She can still feel the heavy breath on the back of her neck and she watches in horror as it leans closer to her. It tilts its head and trails its cold nose against the side of her neck. It changes directions, journeying upwards and turns to trace her jaw with its tongue, leaving an icy path in its wake.

She lets out an ear-piercing scream, thrashing at the air behind her. In her blind panic, she doesn’t notice her fists beginning to collide against something solid. She continues struggling, screaming louder when something grips her wrists and tries to hold her still.

“Shepard? Spirits, Shepard, it’s me!” Garrus’ voice cuts through the commotion and manages to distract her from the worst of her panic. She feels the loud rumble of his subvocals wash over her, helping to ground her mind and bring her out from her frenzy.

“What happened? What did you see?” He questions while bringing a hand up to stroke her hair, smoothing down some of the stubborn strands that have broken out from the braid and have started to get frizzy.

She shakes her head, silently signalling him to give her a moment while she tries to compose herself. She swallows down the rest of the scream that wants to tear through her and finds that she almost chokes on it.

“I know it’s not real, but Garrus… It felt real. It felt so damn real.” Her voice shakes, but she finds herself long past the point of caring. When she turns her head to look back at the mirror, she finds that the figure is still there, peering directly at her over Garrus’ shoulder while mimicking his actions. Its hands follow his, hovering above the two of them. Its movements are gentle as it takes the utmost care to follow along as if it’s trying to learn from him.

The more she watches, the more the figure seems to adapt. It breaks away from its pattern of following Garrus and moves to mime its hand running up and down Shepard’s back. Almost as if it were a mother soothing a frightened child. The thought causes an ache to settle deep inside her chest, burning away next to the cold fear that still grips her.

As it turns its head to try and rest it on top of Shepard’s, the new angle allows her to see its face. It isn’t entirely hidden by shadows like she had thought. Instead, its features merge into the flesh as if the skin is trying to grow over it, covering it in blurry patches.

The longer she stares at the figure, the stronger the feeling of unease flows through her, bringing tears to her eyes. She drops her head against Garrus’ shoulder and inhales deeply, letting the scent of metal distract her from reality. She holds her inhale and counts to five before releasing it. As she does, she can’t help but feel like a teenager in counselling all over again.

“Hey,” Garrus says, his voice soft as he turns her attention away from the mirror and back to him. His mandibles flutter awkwardly and he struggles to find the right words to say, “At least… At least it’s throwing random things at us now and not anything personal?”

She lets out a startled laugh, which comes out as a breathy scoff, and his mandibles begin to relax. “I dunno, Garrus. What if I have some deep-rooted trauma that involves being licked by an entity with no face?”

“Well…” He drags the word out, making a show out of searching for his words. “The only entities that currently don’t have faces, that we can see, would be the quarians. Don’t worry, I won’t let Tali know about your fear of her licking you.”

“You,” she punctuates her point with a sharp poke to his armoured chest and both of them ignore the way her hand trembles, “are terrible. Absolutely terrible.”

“Terribly good at distracting you from hell itself, you mean?” He retorts playfully, catching her wrist and pulling her away from the mirror.

She tries to look at it, to watch the unknown figure follow their every move, but he beats her to it and blocks her view with his body. She starts to grumble out a protest but bites her lip to silence herself instead. She closes her eyes, hoping that by the time she opens them again the panicked Raven Shepard has vanished; that the calm Commander Shepard has returned.

“Sure, let's go with that.” She says instead as she lets him drag her closer to the door.

After a few metres, she feels his fingers sporadically flex against her wrist, followed by a sharp inhale. Almost quiet enough to not be heard over their footsteps, almost.

“What’s wrong?” She questions, watching as he carefully avoids looking in a certain direction.

“It’s nothing.” He replies quickly, too quickly.

She frowns and comes to a stop, he slows down next to her and keeps his eyes glued to the ground. She is silent for a moment, watching his face for a reaction. She gets one after a short pause when he flinches, his eyes shutting tight and his head lowering even more.

“Garrus…” She tries again, resting her hand on his bicep and lowering her head to catch his gaze.

“It’s nothing, Shepard.” He reluctantly opens his eyes, unable to clear the hurt from them before she can notice. Her frown deepens and she moves her hand down his arm until she can slot her five fingers with his three. He breathes out, the sound harsh and ragged.

“It was my dad. Or, well, it was a version of him as a marauder.” He admits before taking a second to collect his thoughts, “He was telling me how it was my fault he was like that, that I should have done more to prepare Palaven for the reapers. What a great Reaper Advisor I turned out to be, I should have done more.”

“You did everything you could, Garrus. You have done so much to stop the reapers, from the very moment we learnt about them. You have been by my side through it all, facing their horrors since the start. No one knew what to expect, even with all the information we collected. Don’t blame yourself for the damage they have caused. That wasn’t your father and while I’ve not met the man, yet, I know he would never say that to you. I also know he would never become a damn marauder. From what you’ve told me about him, his stubbornness could beat even the reapers.”

He chokes out a short laugh, nodding slowly as he processes her words instead of the ones only he can hear. “Yeah, he’s more stubborn than I am, I’ll give him that.”

“More stubborn than you, is that even possible?” She smiles up at him, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. He tugs her closer in response, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers.

“Just wait ‘til you meet him, then you will probably regret agreeing to.”

She nuzzles into him, letting her nose brush against his, “I’ll be the judge of that. Let's get out of here and then we can get EDI to contact his refugee ship, hm?”

He nods, moving her head with his before he finally parts from her. She watches as he tentatively looks around the room, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Right, it shouldn’t be too bad now that we know none of this is real. We just find the shuttle, if it’s still there, or find a way to contact Cortez.”

The look she gives him causes him to falter, embarrassment creeping into his expression. “Easier said than done considering the last five minutes, I’m aware, Shepard.”

“That’s not what I was going to say, but yes, that as well.” She says plainly, her expression one of pure disbelief.

“What was that look for then?”

“You just jinxed us, again.”

He rolls his eyes and turns away from her, approaching the door. He slowly pulls away part of the coat he had shoved against it and recoils when the fog continues to leak through the small gap. Shepard kneels next to him with a pensive expression.

“Considering we’ve been breathing the fog in for hours, I don’t think we can make things any worse by continuing our exposure to it.” She says as she watches it curl around the coat and slip into the large room.

“You’re probably right. Even after we blocked the door, we still saw things. It might take a while for the effects to wear off.” Garrus mumbles, deep in thought as he pulls away the rest of the coat and tossing it to one side.

“If it ever does,” Shepard says quietly, the thought causing her to pause. Garrus stops moving beside her before wringing his hands together.

“Then we will find a way to reverse the effects.” He states firmly.

A distant sound breaks the growing tension in the room, the echo of footsteps drawing closer.

Shepard and Garrus jump back from the door, hands hovering over their holstered weapons. They stay silent and Shepard holds her breath as she listens. The sound continues, picking up in pace before stopping. The sound of something light slapping against the ground follows the pause between footsteps, and then the cycle repeats.

“One of the scientists we saw earlier?” Garrus whispers, leaning closer to her as he does.

“Maybe.” She replies, unconvinced. She strains her ears and begins to hear mumbling between each pause, followed by the occasional struggle.

She unholsters her weapon and aims it at the door. Garrus follows her lead, moving to lean against the wall beside the door while she remains centre.

The noise grows louder.

Heavy, armoured footsteps. Then the light slap of something landing on the stairs, then more footsteps.

Shepard raises her gun and begins to shine blue, the scent of ozone fills the room as she prepares her biotics for the worst.

Whatever approaches lurks just behind the door. She can see the fog parting around it while it slinks its way under the gap. Her heart begins to quicken and she raises an eyebrow at Garrus, earning a tilt of his head in response. She nods and steps back before the blue shine intensifies.

In a flash, she rips the door off the hinges, tossing it to one side just as Garrus spins around to aim his weapon at the entrance; his finger twitching against the trigger.

A startled yelp echoes around the room, followed by an out-of-breath exclamation, “Mierda!”

“James?” Shepard asks, slightly startled by his appearance. Shepard and Garrus keep their weapons raised, making no move to lower them. James raises his eyebrows at them before his hands slowly follow.

“Yeah, Commander, it’s me.” He speaks slowly, confusion and wariness becoming visible on his face when he glances between the two.

“Prove it.” She commands, staring down at him and smothering the hope that dares to grow in her chest.

“Prove it?” He parrots in disbelief. “How am I supposed to prove that it’s me?”

She raises her rifle higher, her finger resting comfortably against the trigger guard. A subtle warning that he quickly catches.

“Okay, okay. Geeze Lola, don’t need to start acting loco. Uh, how about that time when I saved your ass on Mars with my amazing shuttle driving? Or that time I almost beat you during a sparring match on Earth?”

“Yeah, that’s the real Vega, Shepard. Not even the fog could create something that annoying.” Garrus says with a grin as he holsters his weapon, nudging James with his elbow.

“Damn, Scars. Low blow.” James replies with a playful glare. “So… I take it you guys have been seeing stuff as well?”

Shepard isn’t as quick to trust as Garrus and keeps her weapon raised until he gives her a questioning look. She bites the inside of her cheek and forces her body to relax.

“Yeah, it’s a long story. We’ll catch you up on what we’ve discovered once we’re back on the Normandy. Where have you been all this time?” She demands, her voice taking on a harsh edge before she can stop it. She holsters her weapon and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Sorry, but seriously, where did you go?”

“What do you mean? You told me to go back to the shuttle?” He frowns, all prior amusement vanishing from his face. “You came back into the room after roughly five minutes and then ordered me to tell Cortez to prepare the shuttle. We waited around for two hours, then decided that I would come and search for you instead.”

He gestures to an amusingly long rope wrapped around his arm, draped across the stairs behind him, “Hence the rope. I didn’t want to find you, only to have lost the shuttle again.”

“I never told you to do that, Vega.” An uneasy expression takes over her face. “I was in the other room with Garrus the entire time. Once we came back to the main room, it was covered in dust and bodies, and you were nowhere to be found.”

Now it’s James’ turn to look unnerved. He begins to shuffle on the spot, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stares at her. “What do you mean the room was covered in dust once you came back? The room always looked like that.”

Before Shepard can respond, Garrus cuts in with a question of his own. “Vega, besides Shepard in the research base, what else have you seen in the fog?”

She waits for his response, carefully watching his face. She notices every minor muscle twitch and the way he swallows roughly. “My dad. It wasn’t a fun encounter. I also heard Shepard over the comms, saying stuff like how I should have never been allowed on her ship. Knew it was bullshit though, who wouldn’t want me around, ay, Lola?”

“You’re right, it was bullshit.” She declares with a single nod, brushing past the two men to start ascending the stairs. She stretches her shoulders before mumbling under her breath for what must be the hundredth time, “I’m sick of this planet. Let’s go home.”

#♥. writing #♥. Raven Shepard #Mass Effect #Mass Effect 2 #shakarian #shepard x garrus #femshep #commander shepard #garrus vakarian #garrus x femshep #garrus x shepard #garrus romance

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