#This was my first time ever drawing this guy as you can see

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

well I finally did it.

first of all merry christmas and enjoy the chapter

Dear family

This may be sudden... I don't even know why I'm writing this letter anymore, it was supposed to be about the big decision I made that would change my life, but even so I don't know why I'm leaving explanations.

My plan was always to never see you again, each of you, I still feel very hurt by everything, although I know that these words will not make a big change in you.

But enough berating them, I'm not racking my brain to find the right words for a letter full of complaints.

I was always a girl who avoided problems or at least I like to think I was, Father, brothers and my dear confidant Alfred, despite getting into big trouble.

The lights were flashing brightly, the music at full volume filled the room, it was very hot due to the sweat that all the bodies were emanating, you watched all the visitors of the club go crazy with euphoria after a few drinks and continued with a long list of crazy things, you On the contrary, you decided that it was one of those depressive days, where you spent your time seeing the bad side of everything and being miserable.

You didn't follow your friends to any of their craziness; on the contrary, you stayed in a place at the bar away from everyone, along with a few glasses full of a low-grade cherry-flavored liquor.

You still taste the light cherry flavor on your palate. There were so many liquors on the shelf, many of different sizes, appearances, names, years and strengths, you wondered if anyone ever drank them all, if there was a person who in his miserable, boring, short life provokes every liquor on the restaurant's menu. bar.

You looked away when you heard the sound of a chair being moved, you saw a man taller than yours, with a somewhat abrupt but attractive appearance. You took another sip from your glass and returned to your thoughts as you watched the people on the dance floor doing stupid things.

Or so you tried, but by discreetly observing the actions of the man near your seat, it was enough to capture your full attention, to what that guy does in his notebook with his pencil.

“What an artist,” you addressed the subject sitting one seat away from you, “what are you doing in a place as crazy as this?” You turned your gaze to the man with blue-black hair, as you watched him take a sip of his drink and draw with his pencil.

Their eyes connected when the man decided to leave his world and pay attention to your beginning of interaction, he couldn't look away in time, although you didn't blame him, you did the same before because of the curiosity you felt when he saw him, you felt like everything was coming together.

He paused, just him and you, as if the two of you were the only ones in a large room of strangers.

A smile left your lips when you saw the man's dazed attitude, he was so lost in himself that it seems that he forgot about your beginning of conversation until a moment later.

Still, you were afraid that it wasn't nerves that the man was feeling but anger or annoyance at your interaction with him.

“Even if you don't believe it, inspiration can be found in unlikely places… Or even sometimes a muse” came those calm words from his thick but reassuring and animated voice.

You were relieved to hear him speak, but those words that had no sign of annoyance or complaints.

“uhh it's like that... I only saw this place as a garbage dump full of vices” you didn't know how you were still trying to maintain an interaction with that person, perhaps prolonging the feeling of company instead of the one of loneliness sounded more attractive.

“You should look at it from other perspectives, so you'll find things like this” you saw him tear a page out of his notebook without blinking and put it on your forehead.

You were surprised to see your drawing on the paper. Every feature of yours delicately captured with each stroke of the pencil on the paper.

“wow you left me speechless for a moment” you disconnected your gaze from the sheet you had in your hands.

“You are actually a great artist” the drawing was extremely beautiful, you never considered yourself a very beautiful woman, it was common for you to see all your flaws before your best qualities, seeing that paper where you felt that in that drawing you were perfect caused you a feeling emotion and a passing confidence.

However, you couldn't get it out of your head to see yourself drawn in other ways on paper, like a cartoon or Japanese version of yourself; before this moment, you never even had the chance to sit on a bench and wait for an artist to draw you. .

“What's wrong with that face, you look disappointed, maybe you're kidding me” you heard him joke.

“No no… no… on the contrary, I really like it” you quickly defended yourself, afraid of offending the man.

“It's just that..” you felt shy when explaining your reasons, especially when he had an attentive gaze on you.

You saw his eyes wait expectantly for your words.

“You know, the drawing is beautiful, but… even though it sounds silly, I wish I could see myself more in a cartoon or comic” you laughed nervously, after your babbling.

“ahh, are you a comic book lover or something?”

“Yes, well it's something like that” you liked to read some series in comic magazines from time to time, but you preferred mangas, you hid this preference, you weren't going to receive a few words of displeasure for that or start a debate about what genre it was.

Better, much less explain what they were if I didn't know what you were referring to.

“I think I can fix that,” the guy said with an animated and funny voice.

You watched him, fascinated, by how he held his book with enthusiasm, his hands moved quickly from one side to the other on the white sheet, the pencil was handled quickly, you could tell that he had a lot of experience with the ease with which he did it.

It was a long night, between different conversations and laughter with the new guy you met, the night became more tolerable with the man by your side.

Between drinks and meaningless talks, laughter on both sides, silly dances on the floor full of people, just two fools doing the most pathetic steps they had plus some little improvised old waltzes, it ended in a new day with two sleepless but falices talking in a viewpoint of a building that showed the entire city.

Oh, father, you don't know how enchanted I was with that man I met on one of my many outings to parties, I was stupid and childish, but I still allowed myself to dream and love.

You didn't expect to meet again with such a man with whom you managed to connect, but that's how it happened, destiny somehow led them to meet.

You liked having a new person in your circle, with whom you managed to get along so well.

From talking about his work as an artist, giving his opinion on different comics and mangas that they knew, talking about animation to becoming hoarse from speaking with so much emotion and passion with long monologues.

They visited many hidden places in the big city in their days of adventures, even if they were alleys that were not very crowded, now that you think about it, such a careless action was very crazy, but the beautiful places, with new views, like an alley full of colorful fabrics and with different designs that hung over the street, the walls of a neighborhood full of drawings with different artistic techniques, but with many bright colors, the tall buildings that showed views of the entire city.

The days of movies with crazy plots, but that had you glued to the screen to see what happened next.

The rare meals from the carts or street stalls, which they consumed without problems while they sat to observe the lights of the city or the dark sky, accompanied by silence, but the two of them together.

In that moment where the two were together and talking, you felt that they were exchanging many words of great importance to both of them, but seen from other perspectives they were nothing more than insignificant.

That's what love did, right?

And all for one crazy night where you hope to go crazy on alcohol, after sinking into a self-compose for your life.

You will never be able to forget when he gave you his name and you gave him yours... well, half of it, you admit to having lied to him, even if you regretted it, you already knew the problems they would bring you later.

Well at least that's what you thought, you had no idea of ​​the true consequences.

You only thought about the fear of telling him your real last name, that he would look for you and know who you really were, you were afraid that he would see you differently, no longer a strange girl he met in a bar, but the daughter of a millionaire with a history. questionable life, the mere thought of him using you was too much.

So you avoided him by mentioning the amazing last name “Wayne” and mentioning a fake one.

More specifically, that of your false identification, something crazy that you did in your wild adolescence was left to be useful in your future, that false identification that you made with your friends from school to visit different clubs, you used it when you became independent, so that no one It will bother you in your new life.

“_____ , _____ Jones” unsurely you stated your name, you still remember when you made the false identifications with your friends and among all of them you were looking for a new name and surname for the others, you kept your name and they gave you the last name of the protagonist of the book of fashionable at the time because of the film that adapted the story.

A mental chuckle caused you to remember this along with the taunts they threw at you about where your diary was.

“Kayle, Kyle Rayner,” the boy smiled as he introduced himself.

You followed his smile, something in his ended up infecting you. Just two fools in a bar telling each other their names and being ignorantly happy.

It's a shame that that happiness ended some time later, when you never saw Kyle again. Even with a card for him to contact you, you never heard from him.

You woke up happy, in his apartment, the day after spending a night together, alone, without any sign that the man was home, without any note or notice, you waited excitedly for him to return, but he never did, even when you left a message. letter and ways for me to contact you again if the ones they already had didn't work, you never knew anything.

Maybe it was all an adventure and you got carried away... they never clarified what they were, hell maybe he didn't even consider you a friend.

But you and I know, father, that all the fairy tales one creates end quickly, most of the time in the worst ways.

I ended up with a broken heart, still, I kept good memories... and her.

I know it is late, very late, as it has been for many years, but I must confess it, because no parents and siblings would want to know it in the worst possible ways….

Alice Wayne, my dear baby….

You leaned back in your chair as you wrote the last sentence, you did it, you wrote what was overwhelming you so much, the beginning of the letter.

Your eyes burned, a few treacherous tears running down your face.

Your family, your passing love and your beloved daughter always made you sensitive.

It wasn't something you could avoid.

You leaned your head on the headboard of the chair, letting all the blood flow to your head, something strange you used to do to clear your head, you looked at the ceiling and the walls around you upside down.

You noticed the crib on the side of the room near your desk where you were writing.

You saw your baby sleeping calmly, a peaceful face with no signs of discomfort, he was an angel.

Your little angel, and your light... you knew you would do anything for her, like you did right now.

I think if we are similar in some way father.

I ended up having a daughter through carelessness like you did to me.

I need to ask you a big favor father and not only of you but also of the whole family, the biggest and most important one I will do in my life.

If something happens to me... if I end up in big trouble or I no longer exist, any situation that prevents me from taking care of my beloved daughter.

Please watch over her.

Make sure she has the best future, a happy life with everything she needs, that she can grow up as a girl full of light, that she is always kind, wise and with a loving family.

If that's not something they can give you, find someone who can give it to you.

Take care of my treasure, my only happiness, my only family... I know I left a long time ago without saying anything and returned in a hurry to their lives.

Maybe one day they will call me selfish knowing the path I took to leave little Alice to them, the decision I decided to make was not easy, but I did it because I want the best for my little light.

We are all selfish and mean, I was all my life, since I knew that my happiness only depended on me, that I was alone in this world, that only oneself can save oneself.

I think I still am by thinking that I can force them to do something about my problem, I can't force them to take care of someone or take responsibility for a short period of time, turning their lives upside down.

But maybe... with all the love and affection that you could ever see felt for me, I can make you consider helping me and fulfilling my difficult request.

Father, brothers and Alfred... I never said it because of all the anger I felt, because of everything that happened in the mansion, which devastated my thoughts with a lot of anger, forgetting everything I had and made me have a comfortable and pampered life.

Thank you.

Well, he's the father and maybe a future yandere, it's a possibility.

after an exhaustive investigation into possible characters to occupy this role in the series.

although there may be other possibilities with other characters....

Like I tried with the penguin's son, if ___ had decided to hang out more with villains and they adopted her or became her godparents.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

[flowersforthemachines]

Ranking everyone's Hero of the Veilguard armours (because I have nothing better to do)

I realised I needed to gather my thought's on everyone's drip so here are my humble opinions (with numbers and pictures)

Disclaimer: I took this very seriously, but you probably shouldn't. This is based on my personal opinion, which, while undoubtedly correct, may now align with your own. And that's okay.

14 - Titan's Vengeance (Harding)

That is definitely an armour. One of the armours ever, perhaps!

While I understand that it's meant to evoke the image of the dwarves as we see them in DAVG, I simply do not vibe with this outfit. Like, at all. It got an honest chuckle out of me when I saw it in the game, but I would never put Harding through the torture of wearing it. Which is too bad because I'd pick her embracing the Titan's anger over its compassion any day. A pity the fashion doesn't keep up.

13 - Rivain's Legacy (Taash)

Putting my opinions on certain aspects of their questline aside ("yes, you can be non-binary, but we draw the line at being multicultural"), this outfit doesn't even seem to be based on Taash's model. Anyone who has seen their romance scene (I have <3) should be able to tell these are not their legs. Their gorgeous calves wouldn't fit into those metal things. Bioware should be ashamed.

12 - The Qun's Honour (Taash)

That outfit doesn't make a lot of sense to me personally. I can live with the fact that most companion outfits are reused assets, but why is the Lords of Fortune armour of all things meant to represent Taash pursuing Qunari culture? Did no one at the office stop to think how weird that was? Like for real.

11 - Grey Benefactor (Davrin)

This outfit belongs in the "He Would Not Fucking Wear That" category. It also commits the cardinal sin of making Davrin look smaller (in my eyes), which not even the essence of Mythal could help to find redemption for. A shame after a shame.

10 - Crow's Tenacity (Lucanis)

This outfit is... a lot. Why is there so much metal, aren't assassins supposed to be silent 'n sneaky n' stuff? What are those patterns? Is that a FUR COLLAR??? I fell in love with a man with a horrible fashion sense

9 - Crow's Poise (Lucanis)

Marginally better than its counterpart, this outfit still leaves me with a lot of questions. I won't ask what is up with the feathers (I get it. they are crows) but I still find feather pauldrons to be a crime of fashion.

If Harding's Titan armour brought me a chuckle, this caused a groan because it took me 70h~ to reach the end of Lucanis's questline on my first playthrough and my reward was THIS?

(why did I have to fall for that guy of all people)

8 - Archivist's Mail (Bellara)

This simply does not scream Bellara to me. Even her glove and the scarf aren't enough to make that armour look like something of her own. It's definitely missing the flair (bits and baubles!!!) from her other armours, which may not be a fashion crime, but is still deeply regrettable.

7 - Wild Benefactor (Davrin)

This is like. It's a bit better than his other one, okay. It even started growing on me over time, in a way I can't comprehend yet also can't deny. Maybe he would fucking wear that, I don't know.

6 - Investigator's Robes (Neve)

I was originally tempted to rank it higher because I liked its description mentioning that Neve wearing robes (which she normally doesn't do) is a statement. It's cool thematically.

But I shall not let Bioware gaslight me into forgetting that it's just a Shadow Dragons robe conveniently recoloured to suit that narrative. Try harder next time.

5 - Graven Vestments

It's nice (especially compared to some other armours), but not Emmrich-y enough in my opinion. It lacks the personality present in his starting outfit. Peepaw deserves something more special for overcoming the greatest fear of his life, wouldn't you think?

4 - Threader's Plates (Neve)

This armour gets bonus points because it actually took me a while to recognise it was a recoloured Defiant Plate. Neve really makes it her own!

Other than that, it looks good, but is it *great*? It is *meaningful*? Not really. It would also look cooler if Neve's hair was down (the same applies to any other hatless outfit).

3 - Lich's Vestige (Emmrich)

That outfit is just so fucking cool. The exposed ribcage? The high collar? Black and gold? Now that is Emmrich Volkarin. And I do have a special appreciation for companion armours being, you know, *unique* models.

However, while undoubtedly stylish, the armour leaves behind a question: was it worth it?...

2 - Inquisition Spotter (Harding)

I may be an Inquisition hater deep down (sorry), but this armour still prompted a lonely tear to run down my cheek when I first saw it. It's such a nice callback to the past in a game that's so different from all previous DAs that it melted my cold, cold heart.

I was especially touched by the embroidery representing the members of the Inquisition. Harding carries her memories of them wherever she goes!!! :)

1 - Reborn Leathers (Bellara)

Is this biased? Yes, of course, this is biased. Bellara is my favourite girl, everyone else stood no chance. Like, she literally has a crown on her head - who else deserved the first place, if not her?

Jokes aside, this outfit is everything I would expect from a reward for completing a companion's storyline - a completely new outfit that retains the spirit of the original design while bringing new elements to it.

Sometimes what you need to make a good experience better is to see your fave in a cool outfit. For this one, Bioware has my sincere thanks.

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (07/10)

Hidden Coast

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader

summary: feelings continue to flourish stronger than ever and now that you have already experienced life at Crowns, it is now the turn of a certain rich guy to experience life at Black Waves.

words: 9.5k

previous part • series masterlist

okay, let's see how things continue with this story after my long disappearance (sorry, I was very busy with work and my schedule changes) i hope to get support, not just hearts as you need to comment and reblog, please.

i have seen how the activity has dropped in the HOTD world and i don't want to not have more motivation for this story when there are people who want the ending. I have a lot planned and any constructive feedback is more than welcome. thank you guys, enjoy!

"Are you ready?"

You look excitedly at Aemond in front of you, with a small smile on your lips.

"More than ready."

The jet ski's engine purrs softly with Aemond already sitting on top of it, waiting for you, ready to take you for a ride.

It's your first time on one of these bikes and you're clearly excited. Obviously a ride on one of these is afforded by the rich, either because they can afford it or because they have jet skis of their own.

You didn't even see it when Aemond first showed you the yacht. It was off to the side at the yacht, also being maintained and cared for by the people in the harbor that his family pays for maintenance and protection.

And when he let you know that his family also has one of these and showed it to you, you quickly as a little girl and completely thrilled told him that you had always wanted to ride in one of these.

And that's why now you're both here.

You make sure your vest is on properly and take his hand, where he helps you keep your balance as you stand behind him, taking a seat, then wrap your arms around his torso tightly.

"Hold on tight," he tells you, placing his hands on top of yours and watching you over his shoulder, "I won't go very fast but still."

He gives you a few more instructions but the truth is you can't concentrate one hundred percent. Not when he looks like this.

His tousled silver hair, his bare arms, the sunglasses he's wearing and his hands gripping the throttle lever, marking his bones and veins. A truly breathtaking sight, especially when you're holding him so tightly.

Then he again looks at you expectantly over his shoulder and you nod.

"Okay."

He makes sure one last time that you're holding on to him tightly and finally accelerates, both of you gliding out into the open water with the salty ocean air filling your lungs.

You feel the sea breeze begin to hit your face, lifting your hair. There's a lot of motion from the bike cutting through the waves with ease and water splashing in all directions.

Then he accelerates a little faster and you cling to him completely.

You stare in wonder at the horizon, where the ocean is endless and where the sun makes the water sparkle with little silvery glints as you and Aemond get further and further away from the shore by the second.

You leave the hustle and bustle of the beach and the town behind, until only the sea and the immense sky in front of you both remain.

The wind hits hard against your face, as does the breeze every second and you feel the adrenaline take over your whole body, smiling and happy to finally be experiencing this.

"Faster!"

Aemond looks over his shoulder at you and doesn't hesitate to oblige your request. He speeds up even more, and the jet ski glides over the waves with even greater speed, drawing a free and carefree laugh from you.

The force of the wind means you can barely keep your eyes open, but you don't want to miss a second of this view.

You feel your heartbeat accelerate, and the excitement fills you with a seemingly endless energy. Each leap over the waves is like a small flight and you feel like you could fly.

You cling to Aemond's waist tighter, enjoying the moment, here, with him, it couldn't be more perfect.

After a while, Aemond slows down and you look out into the short distance at a place you have seen from many summers ago. Since you were a little girl coming here with your mom, specifically.

You still remember how you excitedly told her that one day you would want to come here. So does Alysanne.

You gaze raptly at the large lighthouse that towers in the middle of the sea, not far off the coast of Sunset's. Aemond circles around it at a slower speed, allowing you to admire it, watching as some eagles fly at the top where the lighthouse ends its height, being a truly beautiful sight.

"Do you want to come up!?"

He asks you over the sound of the engine and the waters crashing against each other with every displacement of the bike. And you watch him in surprise, also excited.

"Sure!"

Aemond speeds toward the pier, where the waves rock gently against the worn pillars and where the place seems anchored in time, as if no change of season or year could alter its stillness.

When the jet ski comes to a stop, Aemond jumps off first, making sure it is securely fastened, and then reaches out to help you. His grip is firm but gentle and comforting, helping to steady you.

Afterwards, you walk together toward the base of the lighthouse, where it stands imposingly in front of you, its white structure contrasting with the evening sky. The paint, though somewhat faded, still reflects the light of the sun's last rays.

“Can we come in?”

“We can,” he nods.

“But is anyone inside?”

“There should be. But it's still early,” he says nonchalantly, ”We'll be gone before they show up.”

The old but sturdy steel door opens with a loud creak as Aemond pushes it open. And you step cautiously in behind him, watching as the light illuminates the interior a little more and with the foot of the stairs just to one side of the large door.

“Watch the steps, they're kind of narrow,” he tells you as he holds the door open for you.

You frown slightly, placing yourself in front of him.

“You've come here before?”

He nods.

“With Daeron, last year.”

You both step further in, and Aemond closes the door behind him.

The interior is cool and quiet. Everything looks too old, too, but still captivating. The little light coming in through small round windows casts irregular patterns on the wall, creating an almost magical feeling.

The two begin to climb the spiraling staircase and Aemond is right, the steps are worn and creak under the weight. Ocean breezes occasionally filter through the windows, and you can smell the salt in the air mixed with the scent of old wood.

“When I was a kid, I used to imagine what it would be like to come up here,” you say as you walk forward, “I've always seen this lighthouse in the distance and…I don't know, I thought it was amazing to come. Dad always told me, in his crazy stories, that you could see the whole world at the top of the lighthouse,” you explain with a small nostalgic smile, ”Although Alysanne always told me it must be no big deal.”

“And why didn't you ever come?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“We didn't have enough money to rent a jet ski,” you admit, ”Mom always said this was for tourists or people with money, which she was right. But… money was needed for other things, not for this.”

He doesn't say anything to you right away, but when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he stops beside you and says in a soft voice, “I'm glad you're doing it now.”

You smile at him, and there's something warm in the way he looks at you, as if he understands what this moment means to you. Finally, you both reach the top.

He steps forward and carefully opens the rusty door leading outside. The metallic creak mingles with the roar of the wind rushing in, bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean.

Excited, you walk through the door and step outside, where the lighthouse culminates in a small circular platform surrounded by a metal railing. And from here, the view takes your breath away.

The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see, the sun slowly sinks into the sea, painting everything with a palette of oranges, pinks and purples. The waves reflect the colors as if they were a liquid canvas, and the sound of the sea below seems amplified, like a constant whisper that envelops everything.

And even though you can't see the whole world, as your dad used to tell you, it's still beautiful.

“It's more beautiful than I imagined,” you murmur, barely able to look away from the landscape.

You feel Aemond approach, his presence solid and comforting behind you. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around your waist, gently resting his chin on your shoulder.

His embrace is firm but tender, and in that instant, you feel protected, as if this moment was designed just for the two of you. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the wind caress your face and thinking about your dad.

You wonder what it would have been like to be here with him, how he would have told another one of his fantastic stories as the sun illuminated his face.

A lump forms in your throat, and you hold back the urge to cry, because you know that, somehow, he would be happy that you are doing it now.

You turn to Aemond, placing your hands gently on his face. His eye, a deep blue and gray, looks at you with curiosity and something else you can't quite identify, but which fills your chest with warmth.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him with emotion and tenderness.

He smiles, a small but genuine smile, and rests his forehead against yours, letting the moment envelop you both.

You both return to the harbor and Aemond again secures the jet ski next to the yacht, while you wait for him, taking off your life vest.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" you ask him, unsure.

He looks at you slightly confused.

"My phone?"

"Yeah, it's just... mine doesn't turn on," you explain briefly and he watches you intently, "It died on the way over here and I want to let Alysanne know I'm staying with you tonight."

"Sure," he tells you with no problem.

He finally manages to secure the jet ski and walks over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you both start heading towards the yacht.

"But what's wrong with your phone?" he asks you curious and attentive.

"Well, it's old and the battery is failing," you say a little embarrassed, "It takes about three hours to charge to at least fifty percent."

You both go up to the second floor deck and he slides the doors for you, both of you stepping inside the yacht.

"You need a new one."

He tells you as he walks over to the small kitchen island, picking up his phone and you sigh.

"Yeah, I know. I'll buy one when I get a new job or have it fixed. That's what I always do when it starts to malfunction."

"No need. I'll buy it for you."

"What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, holding out his phone to you, "I need you to have your phone with you at all times so I can contact you. And obviously I can't do that if it's no working."

"But... no," you look at him completely incredulous and surprised, "No. You can't just buy me a new phone and that's it. You can't do—

"Of course I can, Y/N," he interrupts you completely unconcerned.

"But n-no... it's... it's not..." you babble, "I mean, you can't."

He places a small grin as he rolls his eye and watches you with a condescending look, leaning against the kitchen island in a casual motion.

"And why not, according to you?"

"Because it costs a lot of money!"

"Yeah... and your point?"

"My point..." you remark, still incredulous, "Is that it's a lot of money to buy a new one."

He frowns slightly, still with that little grin on his lips.

"And that's why I can't?"

"Well, I-I... you... I mean—

"Stop doing that," he interrupts you in a soft voice as he sits up and walks over to you, "It's nothing. I can buy you a new one."

He stops in front of you and places a hand on the back of your head and then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I know it's a lot for you. But I can afford it."

"But... you don't understand," you look at him uncertainly, "I can't afford it. And suddenly having one of these," you point to his phone in your hand, "will draw attention. Besides, I don't want it to look like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh, believe me, you can take advantage of me all you want, darling. And I wouldn't mind."

He tells you still with that fucking grin on his lips then leans in and kisses you deeply.

His hands rest on your waist and you bring your free hand to the back of his head, moving your lips against his and gently stroking his hair. Then you both pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm serious," you murmur.

"And so do I," he tells you in a more serious tone of voice, "Don't worry about any of that. You're not taking advantage of me. I want to. Besides, you'd better get used to it."

You gently shake your head.

"You're joking."

"Hm. Are you sure about that?"

He again closes the distance between you and kisses you with more need, though with the same depth as before. You gasp into his mouth and reciprocate his kiss, clinging tighter to him.

His fingers firmly squeeze the skin of your waist and send electric waves throughout your body, as you let yourself be completely enveloped by him.

"I'm dead serious with you."

He says in a husky voice against your lips and you begin to feel the level between the two of you begin to rise, becoming more desperate and needy.

"No, you're not."

"You think so, baby?"

He cooed and before you can say anything else, he interrupts you by attacking your lips again and lifting you off your hips, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso.

You let out a surprised little laugh as he settles you better in his arms and heads for the stairs. Or towards the bedroom, specifically.

You watch Alysanne with a huge smile and a dreamy look on your face as you finish telling her all about your day yesterday and how much fun you had with Aemond.

“And how was your night?” she inquires you with that mischievous look.

Instantly your cheeks burn and you look at her with embarrassment mixed with reproach.

“I don't intend to tell you anything about it.”

But she can already get the idea just by looking at your reaction.

“Lucky bitch.”

You let out a small laugh, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You could have these experiences too, you know?”

“Which ones, specifically?”

You look at her with an obvious look.

“You know, the yacht, the jet skis, and life at Crown's.”

She rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You mean because of Cregan?”

“Who else?” you inquire, ”Why hasn't anything happened between the two of you? It's weird.”

“Cause it would be weird.”

“Weird?” you look at her blankly.

“A guy from Crown's with a girl from Black Waves.”

“Oh, come on,” you look at her incredulously, ”Are you not seeing my situation? Besides…” you say, remembering, ”didn't you tell me that if you were in my place with Aemond, you'd agree to be with him?”

“Well, yes but… Cregan hasn't really acted or said anything to me,” she justifies herself, “Yes, I've seen his looks, his actions and his behaviors but,” she sighs, “I don't know. He hasn't really come on to me.”

“Come on, you and Cregan together is easier and less complicated than Aemond and I,” you say, ”Cregan has no girlfriend and no responsibilities. He doesn't have to please his father and he has a lot of freedom.”

She is silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“Yeah, I know.“

She lets out a sigh again and neither of you say anything else for a few long seconds. Until she speaks again.

“By the way…” she, thoughtfully, “Since you talked about his dad and his girlfriend, how exactly are you and Aemond doing so you don't get caught?”

“Well…” you murmur, “ His dad he doesn't see much of him in the day. Only Aemond knows the days when he's going to need him and is there for him. With his siblings and mom it's easier. He only says he wants to be alone and leaves home to meet me on the pier or in the harbor.”

“And Floris?”

“He tells her that he's busy getting ready to take his management course before he goes off to college,” you explain, “And it's not totally untrue. When he's with me, I've seen him looking up program recommendations and reviews online.”

“Hm, very clever,” she says as she nods then lies back on the bed completely, “I don't know about you but I find your whole situation… exciting,” she says as she looks at you with a small smile.

“Exciting how?”

“I mean, like exciting and scary at the same time,” she explains, “And also like a movie-like, of forbidden love. The rich guy and the poor girl who can't be together because they'll be judged before society, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows slightly at the comment, amused.

“Well, it's not totally far from reality.”

“Like the prince and the commoner, the millionaire and the maid, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Noah and Ally, Romeo and Juliet—

“Romeo and Juliet?” you interrupt her, amused and incredulous, ”I hope neither or both of us have to die so we can be together in heaven.”

“Well, you know, two completely opposite worlds doomed to be apart…though without the tragic ending, please,” she says as she laughs, sitting up a bit from the bed and propping herself up on her elbows, ”But, you know, it would also be like Jack and Rose. Although you'd be Jack and Aemond would be Rose.”

You frown, watching her.

“You, poor and free,” she points at you with her index finger, “Him, rich and trapped in world he hates with a dad who hates too.”

“I hope our story doesn't end up sinking like a giant ship in the middle of the ocean,” you mutter.

“Okay, so another example… like, um… Aladdin,” she snaps her fingers, “But it would also be the other way around, you, a thief of the streets, him, a prince with the full weight of his kingdom's expectations. Although…“ she pauses and looks at you mischievously, "Aemond doesn't have a magic carpet, does he?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“No, but he does have a jet ski.”

“And a late model car, a yacht, a mansion..” she lists, “Businesses, infinite credit cards—

“Yes, but that's not why I'm with him,” you interrupt her, indignant.

“I know but you get my point, right? The whole forbidden love thing, with restrictions, secret meetings, no freedom and where everything can end well… or bad,” she tells you with a look and a condescending tone, ”Obviously you both want to be together. But if you get caught, there will be a scandal all over town and who knows how his family will react. And Floris too.”

You look at her again confused.

“We had already had this conversation and you were the one who told me to take the risk?”

“Yes but that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then?”

She sighs and looks at you with a more serious look.

“You and Aemond must have a plan if that happens.”

“A plan?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Have you two talked about what you'll do if you get caught?"

“Yeah… well, sort of, when he went looking for me with Cregan,” you explain, "The plan…” you start to say, trying to sound more confident than you feel, “is that he'll protect me.”

“Protect you?” she repeats, confused, ”How?”

“Well, we didn't exactly say those words but, basically, he won't let his or Floris' family near me. I just have to stay on my side of town and… I'll be fine.”

She folds her arms, expectantly.

“And then?”

You sigh.

“We won't be able to talk or… see each other, obviously.”

“But he's going to fight his family and his dad, right? To do what he wants and to be with you… right?”

“That's the plan,” you nod, '“If all goes well, that would be a miracle but if it doesn't…” you watch her fearfully, “We'll have to say goodbye.”

Alysanne gestures as she lets out a sigh again.

“Maybe this will be harder and riskier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I knew you'd say that after convincing me to be with him clandestinely,” you tell her with a scowl.

“Y/N, look—

“But you're right,” you interrupt her again, ”I mean, I knew all along. I know the risks we're taking and yet… I'm willing to do it and so is he. We both talked about it and we know this won't be easy, but it's what we want.”

She looks at you quietly, her expression in slight concern.

“Aemond has to deal with and please his family's expectations and control, without being able to do what he really wants. And I… I want to help him, to make him live, enjoy and have some freedom, if only for a moment.”

“Even if that freedom is temporary and you both end up very hurt?”

You shrug, shaking your head.

“It will have been worth it. Because, at least, we'll have tried. Or that's what you told me, if I remember correctly.”

She lets out a laugh and you follow her instantly, where after you both fall silent, as she watches you with a soft smile.

“I guess you're brave after all… or stubborn, depending on how you look at it.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter.

“Runs in the family. I learned that from you.”

At that moment, her phone rings and she picks it up, while you stand for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“We should go now,” she lets you know, looking at her phone screen, “Chase says he's already with the guys at the beach. Cregan's going too.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree, instantly grabbing your phone, “I'll text Aemond to meet us there too.”

You send him the message without a problem, as Alysanne watches you in amusement.

“Doesn't it make you anxious to have to tell the guys about you and Aemond?”

“Why? They already saw us on the beach the other day.”

“Yeah, but… you know, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. A lot.”

“I guess I'll just have to put up with it.”

Pretty soon the two of you head down to the beach, especially the place where you always have the bonfire gatherings. And sure enough, the boys are already there, taking a break before surfing.

But as soon as Sam sets his eyes on you, questions begin to form in his mind, like bubbles, questions that he immediately asks you and that raise more questions in Daniel and Chase.

“How did it come up?”

“What happened?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Is it true that his family has three yachts?”

“Does his family know about the two of you?”

“I'm very confused.”

“He's with Floris, isn't he?”

“He's cheating on Floris with you?”

“So you're the other woman?”

“Will you guys stop?”

Alysanne tells them instantly serious, managing to get all three of them to shut up.

“You guys aren't going to bring that back when he gets here. It's reckless and rude. Do you guys want to embarrass Y/N or have him think us stupid and disrespectful?”

Daniel snorts.

“Please, he's a fucking Targaryen.”

“He already considers us stupid, shitty poor things,” Sam says with a scowl.

“He doesn't consider Y/N like that,” Alysanne reminds them.

“But what happened?” Chase insists, looking at you confused and interested, 'I always thought it would be Cregan and her,” he points to your cousin, “But Aemond Targaryen and you?” he says incredulously, “I mean, really, when and what happened?”

You step forward towards them, letting out a sigh.

“I'll tell you everything but first promise not to act weird around him and try to include him to the group,” you tell them seriously.

“Include him in the group?” Sam repeats incredulously.

“I don't understand anything,” Daniel also says.

So, you explain. You tell them about everything, from the beginning at the pier until now, answering their questions, taking advantage of the fact that he hasn't arrived yet.

You explain to them about his relationship with Floris, a brief explanation of his relationship with his father and what he has to do obligatorily for his family's business, or rather empire.

And also what the two are doing together, all in secret. At least it makes them less confused and they have a clearer idea of what is going on between the two of you.

And although the three of them promised not to be weird around him and to include him in the group, as soon as Aemond arrives and you introduce him, in fact they include him instantly, but not being weird, they don't do it well.

And everything you explained to them, they corroborate with him, talking to him about it and asking him questions, while you all wait for Cregan sitting in the sand.

“Your old man not letting you live, even make your own decisions, must be awful, dude.”

Sam says to Aemond with a look of pity on his side, at the same time Chase and Daniel corroborate in conversation.

“I mean, you're of age now, aren't you?”

“Yeah but having a dad like his… you don't really have much of a choice.”

“What do you mean? Like a powerful, rich, influential dad?”

“Guys,” you mumble, looking apologetically at Aemond beside you.

But he only remains silent, with a small soft smile on his lips, simply listening to them.

“No, no, we're just saying it must be awful.”

“Yeah but it's not that awful either… is it?” Daniel says doubtfully, “I mean, you still have it all, like a very expensive car…” he points to his car parked in the distance, “yachts, lots of money and pretty much life settled, bro.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes and turns to Aemond.

“Excuse him. You're with a bunch of poor people, it's obvious we're not going to understand.”

“No, it's okay,” Aemond says still with his little smile, ”I understand you have a different point of view.”

“It's not all about money and everything you can buy with it,” Sam agrees.

“But it is,” Chase shrugs, “In a way.”

“We don't have those things, dude,” Daniel says, “We have to work, make a living, somehow survive, while you don't have to do anything because you already have everything,” he points to Aemond, “And don't get me wrong, I'm not reproaching you, it's just that…” he sighs, “The rich people I know here have a fucking habit of complicating things in their families and they're not able to fix it and be happy.”

The circle goes completely silent for a moment. That's because Daniel has said what all the people in Black Waves and you as a group of friends, is exactly what you think.

It's something you've always talked about, about the rich people in Sunsets who have everything except love and understanding in their families. And that's exactly why they're not happy.

And on the other side, the poor, they have the love, the family unity, except the money and the proper living conditions that they want to have all the material things that the rich have that the rich don't enjoy because of these voids and problems in their families.

Obviously there are different opinions on this which are totally respectable, but this is something that your friends and you have seen since you were little in Sunsets. Even Cregan has corroborated the idea about what he has seen in his world.

When in the middle of the silence, suddenly Aemond speaks up.

“I understand what you're saying and you're right, very right actually,” he nods, looking at Daniel, “That's exactly what's going on in my family. There is… no love, no empathy, no communication and everything is…” he sighs, "fucked up."

Everyone around him watches him, listens to him, as do you, instantly feeling sorry for him, even though you tried to avoid it.

“It's all about what you can bring to the table, how you fit into the family 'plan.' But no one stops to ask you what you want or how you feel,” he confesses, ”The only times I've felt loved were with my mother when I was a kid and recently with my sister Hel, nothing else.”

“Are you serious?” Alysanne inquires.

“That sounds… lonely and shitty,” Sam says with a grimace.

“It is,” Aemond nods, ”And when you try to get out of it, even for a moment, the consequences are bad. And not just for you, but for everyone in the family.”

Daniel frowns, crossing his arms.

“That's what I don't understand. If you have everything, so much money… why aren't you able to be happy instead of ruining each other?”

Aemond lets out a dry little laugh, his smile now more bitter.

“Because in my world, happiness is not a priority. It's more about appearance, control and getting more, more money, more power, recognition, respect,” he lists, "And if you deviate from that, you're a problem."

“Dude, all rich people are crazy, I knew it. And your family more so,” Sam says.

“Hey,” you instantly reproach him, with a warning look.

“It's okay, it's not totally a lie,” Aemond tells you, in a soft, calm voice, “And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have. But I also want more. I want a loving, caring, understanding family. I want freedom, to be able to make my own decisions, to do what I really want to do and not what's expected of me.”

“And why don't you try to, you know… just… drop everything?” Chase asks her, intrigued, ”Rebel, be happy and live your life the way you want to.”

“It's not that simple,” Aemond shakes his head, “I'm my dad's only heir, and someone has to take his place. It doesn't matter if I want to or not. It's my responsibility, and everyone is counting on me for that.”

“But why would you have to do it?” Daniel asks, “I mean, from what you've told, your dad hasn't really done anything for you other than control you. And your family…they just watch and allow it.”

“Because that way I keep my family from exploding and we don't lose everything we have. If it's not me, there's no one else,” Aemond answers him simply and with that bitter tone of resignation.

Silence falls again on the group, where only the waves can be heard breaking softly on the shore and against the big rocks. Also the seagulls, creating a relaxing and less tense atmosphere.

Although even so, everyone watches Aemond from time to time, serious and with slight looks of pity. So do you.

You watch him silently, though not too much for him to notice. And his face, soft and hard to read… is covering all the frustration, sadness and vulnerability he is surely feeling.

Frustration and vulnerability that you feel too, because it's not fair to him. So without saying a word, you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond looks down at the joined hands, saying nothing. But what you do see, though, is that little curve at the corner of his lips, smiling softly and returning the gesture with his fingers, wanting to feel you and hold you close to him.

You know it's not much. You know it's not an exit nor can it compare to all the material things he possesses. But it is a support, something meaningful and pure of heart.

“Look, dude…” speaks Chase, finally breaking the silence, scratching the back of his neck, "We're not your family, that's for sure," he lets out a low, awkward little laugh, ”But here between us… we're like one.”

Daniel next to him nods, putting on a small smile.

“It's strange to say this to a person like you, especially being a Targaryen but… if you need support, someone to listen or just a place where you can breathe… you can count on us.”

“We don't have all the money in the world…” Sam says, “neither mansions, nor yachts or cars of the year but…” he looks at everyone with a soft smile to again look at Aemond, “we're here, okay? You won't be alone anymore.”

You look at your three best friends with a small, tender smile contained with emotion and gratitude. His words, though simple, resonate deeply and make a warmth begin to spread from your chest.

And you know Aemond must be feeling exactly the same.

“I know it's hard, Aemond, but you don't have to carry everything by yourself,” Alysanne tells him, ”Seriously, if you need to get away from all that shit for a while, we're here.”

Slowly, you watch Aemond beside you, who doesn't respond right away. You notice how he suddenly becomes a little uncomfortable, stirring slightly where he is sitting, having no idea what to say or how to act.

It's clear he's never been on the receiving end of these kinds of words and gestures before. Knowing that, it breaks your heart a little. But then, there's the small smile on his lips, barely noticeable but so sincere as he watches your friends with a look full of sincerity and gratitude.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice softer. “I-I…you don't know how much this means to me. Truly.”

For a moment, no one speaks, but they don't need to. The connection is palpable, an understanding between everyone. So, you rest your cheek on his shoulder, it being a small gesture, but strong enough to convey to him that he is not alone, that you are there, that everyone is there for him.

And the atmosphere, which had previously been charged with tensions and mixed emotions, began to lighten. Chase is the first to speak, animated and looking at Aemond with a huge smile.

“Now, if you're going to officially join the poor people's group, we're going to have to put you through a rite of initiation.”

“Rite of initiation?“ Aemond repeats, amused.

“We don't have any of that,” Alysanne reproaches amused.

“True, we don't, but I wanted to start trying with you.”

Everyone laughed, even Aemond, who for the first time in a long time felt like he could breathe easy. As the group continued to joke around, throwing challenges at him like trying to surf or learning to juggle coconuts, the two of you exchange a glance.

You lean towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The gesture so natural and so warm makes Aemond close his eye for a moment, enjoying the moment and the simple pleasure of being there, with you, just like you.

It feels good to be surrounded by laughter and non-judgmental looks, with people who accept him as he is. And in that moment, Aemond felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: belonging.

“Okay, well…” Sam starts to say with a mischievous grin, "I don't want to ruin the moment but… did anyone else notice that?" he points his head towards the two of you.

Chase lets out a laugh, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course we noticed.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes again.

“And here they come.”

“Since when is this a thing?” asks Sam.

“Since when do Targaryens accept kisses from commoners?” Daniel feigns surprise as well, holding a hand to his chest.

“Shut up,” you reply with a nervous smile, your cheeks burning.

You try to look away, but Aemond, instead of feeling uncomfortable, smiles knowingly, amused.

“So, what's going on here?” insists Daniel.

“Aren't you going to tell us your clandestine love story?” Sam also says.

“I already told you,” you reproach them, “And you promised not to do this,” you remind them.

“Yeah, but we want both versions,” they justify themselves.

Nothing stops them and they get Aemond to tell them a couple of things, exactly everything you told them.

“But what about Floris? Because if that girl finds out, it's going to be a disaster,” Chase says.

Aemond nods slowly.

“Yeah, Floris… she's part of the problem, but not the only one. My dad is the real obstacle. If he finds out and my whole family—

“It's not going to be pretty,” you complete, looking at your friends with a mixture of concern and determination, ”Then the whole town is going to find out and everything will be in chaos.”

A small silence ensues, where Sam nods thoughtfully, then looking at Chase, Daniel and finally you and Aemond.

“Okay, so all we have to do is help them protect themselves from your crazy family and your bratty girlfriend.”

“Sounds like mission impossible to me,” Daniel says.

Aemond lets out a small chuckle under his breath.

“Thanks, guys,” he says softly, ”For understanding and for not judging.”

“Judging?” repeats Chase with a smile. “Please, we're the last ones to judge. We just want to make sure you don't end up in trouble…or worse.”

The conversation and atmosphere relaxes again with their amused comments and teasing. When a voice exclaims in the distance, approaching.

”Have you already started the party without me!?“

Everyone turns their heads and sees Cregan, in his typical beach clothes and completely relaxed.

“Dude, you took a thousand years!” Chase yells at him.

“Sorry, I had to do a couple of things!” he says then trots over to all of you, closing the distance, ”My dad wanted me to help him out at the company with some doc—

He finishes the sentence abruptly as he sees that recognizable silver hair sitting among your entire group of friends and opens his eyes wide.

“Targaryen!” he exclaims with a huge grin, ”Finally!”

They do that typical male greeting and then he takes a seat next to Alysanne, visibly excited.

“Well, update me. What did you talk about?”

“A crazy family with no love, a son with responsibilities he doesn't want, a forbidden love, and a girlfriend who is actually for convenience,” Sam lists.

After that, the next hour is really about getting to know Aemond better. His favorite movie, favorite color, places he's been, things he likes to do, what things he doesn't, aspects of his life, etc.

Although the boys, especially Sam, kept saying they couldn't believe they now had another rich boy in the select group of the poor. And a Targaryen on top of it.

Cregan was a little offended at first, saying he liked it better when he was the rich guy who got the attention among all of us. Then they started making jokes, chatting, laughing more and it's like they've all known Aemond all their lives.

He had a very good inclusion to the group and he also spent as much time as he could to get to know the guys and Alysanne better.

Afterwards he and you decide to go for a short walk along the shore. You don't really talk about anything important. You just enjoy the moment, laugh, talk about everything and at the same time about nothing, hugging, hand in hand and letting the salty water wet your feet with every step.

And after a while, you return to the group, where Alysanne tells you the plan and you tell Aemond.

“The guys want to go on a ride to the sea.”

“Oh, okay.”

He nods and looks out at the small, worn pier, frowning after a brief inspection.

“And where's the yacht or the launch?”

You're about to answer but someone else does, reaching towards both of you.

“Yacht?” Sam repeats incredulously, stepping up beside you, "Dude…" he lets out a small laugh, ”we don't have any of that. This is Black Waves. But we do have the launch.”

He winks at you both and then trots over to your launch that is anchored to the pier, which was too unnoticed by Aemond, as he thought it must be an old abandoned launch and not really your launch.

“Oh,” he mutters, embarrassed.

You let out a small laugh, intertwining your arm with his.

“Come.”

The two of you follow Sam, who shows Aemond how the old launch actually has a powerful engine and that's more than enough to go sailing for a bit. The seven of you climb in without a problem and soon enough the launch is gliding through the waters.

You notice how he, at first, seems skeptical about the launch's stability, but soon settles in beside you, though somewhat cautiously.

“Just remember not to go near the piers,” you tell Sam as he starts the engine.

“Oh, sure, sure,” he nods, “We wouldn't want them to recognize Prince Charming here.”

Aemond gives him a slight nod of thanks, as you walk over to him and intertwine your arm with his, smiling softly at him.

He returns your small smile and places one of his hands on your thigh, gently caressing your skin, sending small shivers throughout your body as the whole group moves a little further out into the ocean.

After a while of sailing and no one around, Sam stops the launch and soon enough he along with Chase pull out an old fishing box with some hooks and worms.

“Well, crown prince,” Sam says, jumping to his feet, ”Have you ever been taught to fish?”

Aemond frowns slightly.

“Fishing?” he repeats, ”No. We just bought it.”

“That's what we thought,” Chase replies, with a mischievous grin, "Here too the other heir lord knew nothing," he points to Cregan.

He posts a lazy half smile as he relaxes in the sun's rays along with Alysanne, both wearing sunglasses and simply enjoying the moment.

“Yeah, it's true,” he corroborates.

“So you'll learn today,” Daniel concludes, handing him a cane.

“Is this for real?” asks Aemond, as you laugh.

“As serious as the sea is salty,” Sam replies, ”Come on, it's not that complicated.”

With some skepticism but no complaints, Aemond also gets up and follows the three guys to the bow, while you're left relaxing with Alysanne and Cregan, though you don't miss any of the show.

“Just do this,” Chase tells him, showing him how to adjust the hook line and cast the line into the water.

Aemond watches him closely and, after a few clumsy attempts, manages to cast his.

“Not bad!” you exclaim, encouraging him with a smile.

“That was a disaster,” he tells you, looking a little frustrated by his lack of skill, but also amused.

“You're doing well, you just need a little practice,” Daniel encourages him, who explains the tricks of the trade, but without missing the opportunity to joke.

Although the rods are old and clumsy, they manage to catch a couple of small fish, enough to feel a sense of accomplishment.

It takes Aemond a few minutes to settle in, as the breeze caresses his face and the sight of the calm sea seems to begin to influence his mood and comfort.

And after a couple of practice runs, he throws the line back into the water and after a few minutes, manages to catch something, which sparks cheers and exaggerated applause from the others as he quickly pulls the line as Sam has taught him.

“Look at that!” exclaims Chase, laughing, ”The fishing prince!”

The boys encourage each other, sharing a relaxed, friendly, laughter-filled atmosphere, while you watch everything proudly and happily.

You notice how something has changed in him, like he no longer wears that rigidity that characterizes him. His shoulders are slightly slumped, his posture less tense and he is smiling, really smiling and laughing.

You know this is all he needed to disconnect from everything that haunts him and you feel so happy for him to see him looking this good.

After a while, between them they put everything back together and decide to head back to the beach, but not before stopping by a convenience store to buy some chips and a few beers.

Sam and you volunteer, while Aemond stays in the launch with the others, putting on Alysanne's sunglasses and covering his silver hair with Daniel's cap.

Finally, you return to your usual spot, Black Waves beach, where you sit on the logs around a bonfire and the sunset begins to make its show in the sky.

As you settle in with Aemond, you watch as he looks at the screen of his phone and lets out a long breath as he puts it back in his front pocket. This catches your attention as you see the small but visible frown and you look at him with a soft smile.

“Are you okay?”

He instantly looks at you and nods, trying to smile a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says trying to brush it off.

Just then, you hear the faint sound of when the phone vibrates continuously, indicating an incoming call. Aemond sighs and takes his phone out of his pocket again, where you both see Floris' name on the screen.

Aemond shoots you a glance at your side and sends it straight to voicemail, then places his phone on complete silence and puts it away again.

“She's been calling for hours now. My mom too,” he lets you know.

“And it's not important?” you ask softly.

“No,” he says shaking his head, ”They just want to know where I am.”

“Well, you can tell them so they'll stop calling,” you suggest.

“No, I haven't been home most of the day,” he explains, “They'll try to get me to come back. And I don't want that. I want to…“ he sighs, "I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Okay,” you nod, without a problem.

You take his hand and intertwine it with your own, as the animated guys start talking.

“Alright, Aemond,” Chase says, "Have you ever juggled coconuts?" he asks him as he bends down and picks up three coconuts from the sand.

“Where did you get them?” you ask him instantly amused.

“It's a secret,” he winks at you.

“Is that something people really do?” asks Aemond, amused.

“It is if you're with us,” says Cregan, who appears with three other coconuts in his hands, ”I didn't know either, but they made me learn.”

“Yeah, show him,” Sam tells him, smiling.

“Me first,” Chase interjects, placing himself in the circle first.

He starts juggling them, while Aemond watches him intently,though after a few seconds he drops one, causing a ripple of laughter.

“Dude, shame on you.”

“Weren't you supposed to know?” inquires Alysanne.

“You do it, then,” he challenges her.

Alysanne steps in, taking the coconuts and giving a brief, effortless demonstration. Her moves are fluid and she manages to keep them in the air longer than Chase. And when she finishes, everyone applauds.

“It's a matter of practice,” she says, shrugging, extending the coconuts to Aemond.

“I highly doubt it,” Aemond tells her, but takes the coconuts, willing to give it a try.

After several failed attempts where Alysanne explains along with Sam, he still fails to do it and drops the coconuts to the ground unsuccessfully, though he ends up laughing along with everyone else.

Then Sam stands in the center, juggling and trying the occasional trick, making a spectacle of himself and provoking more laughter at his moves.

“And where did they learn to do that?” asks Aemond with a small smile and interested.

“With the boys in the neighborhood, since we were kids,” says Sam.

Everyone nods, as the atmosphere fills with warmth and the flames of the bonfire dance in the light wind, illuminating everyone's faces as the sunset says its last farewell of the day to bring in the night.

All the guys continue to talk, making the whole group laugh, sharing anecdotes and enjoying the fries and beers while the starry sky and the moon accompany you in the night, as well as the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Aemond at your side watches you with a small soft smile and you return it, as the voices of the boys continue to fill the space you are in.

“I understand Cregan now,” he tells you and you look at him intently, ”They're great guys. It's been a long time since I've felt this comfortable in a group.”

“This won't be the last hangout we have,” you remind him, “Almost every day we meet here. Daniel said next time we should go surfing.”

“I'd love to,” he tells you softly, "Although…" he moves closer towards you, speaking low, ”I'm thinking of inviting them to the yacht.”

You raise your eyebrows, smiling.

“Really?”

“This coming weekend my dad will be going away with my mom on a work trip,” he tells you, “Aegon will probably go partying and stay at some girl's house. Hel and Daeron will have the house to themselves and maybe stay in and watch some movies or something.”

“That's perfect,” you say smiling, ”But, what about Floris?”

“I'll tell her that I'll start my lessons. That way she won't come looking for me. Or my siblings can cover for me in case of anything.”

“Are you sure?” you look at him intently.

“Yeah,” he tells you unconcerned, “But don't tell them anything yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding.

“Okay.”

“Dude, your phone,” Cregan says to Aemond suddenly, pointing to his front pocket with his gaze.

You both look in the same direction and see the light from the screen filter through the fabric, so he pulls it out of his pocket and you both see another missed call from Floris.

His jaw line tenses visibly, and then he slides his finger to check the notifications. Among them, a message from Helaena stands out telling him that his mom is worried.

Aemond sighs, letting out a long exhale that seems to take with it some of the calm he had achieved in the last few hours.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What's wrong?” you ask him intently.

“I have to go,” he says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

The resignation in his voice is palpable, but there's also a hint of annoyance, as if he doesn't want this night to end. And you watch him silently for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do to comfort him a little.

“I don't want to leave,” he says, his voice low and frustrated.

You grimace slightly and move closer towards him, lifting one of your hands to begin gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to relax him. He instantly closes his eye and takes a big breath, instantly enjoying your touch.

“It's okay,” you murmur, ”We'll go back out with them, don't worry.”

“Yeah, I know, it's just…” he pauses, ”I don't want to go home.”

You are silent for a moment, letting his words settle in the air between you.

“Aemond…” you murmur, wanting to say something to ease that burden he seems to carry.

But before you can continue, he opens his eyes and looks at you with an intensity that leaves you speechless.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly, with a gentleness and a firmness that surprises you.

“What?”

“Yeah," he insists, "Stay with me tonight."

You look at him in surprise, your mind racing a mile a minute.

“You mean… at your place?”

“Yeah,” he tells you a little more animated, excited by the idea.

And you don't know what to say again for a few seconds.

“That's… probably a bad idea,” you tell him softly, ”It's too risky, Aemond.”

He smiles thinly, leaning a little towards you.

“It won't be a bad idea if we're careful. It'll be all right.”

“And how will you be able to get me in?”

“No one will see you. The house is huge,” he tells you nonchalantly, ”We just have to be careful. And tomorrow morning, I'll drive you home.”

Gradually, the idea of going to sleep with him excites you, too, despite the risks. Honestly, you don't want him to leave either, at least not yet. But going with him… it starts to stoke that flame of danger and daring in you.

So with the condition that this can't be a regular thing, your mind finally makes the decision.

Soon after, the two of you say goodbye to the guys. You beg Alysanne to cover for you with her parents one more time, and so you get into Aemond's car. The ride to his house is short, but filled with anticipation.

When you arrive, the sight of his mansion takes your breath away. Lights bathe the imposing facade in a golden glow, and the expansive front garden looks like something out of a postcard.

It's a completely different world from your own, something you always knew, but seeing it up close makes it that much more real.

“I'll go in and talk to my mom first, she must be in the living room,” Aemond tells you as he turns off his car and the two of you are in the huge garage of his house, “I'll see who else is inside and come back for you, okay?”

You nod, feeling a little nervous but excited.

“Okay, but what if someone comes?”

“No one will come. There are all the cars,” he points around, "But if that happens, just hide in here," he points to the inside of his car, "No one will see you."

“Okay,” you nod, ”Just don't take too long, please.”

“I won't, don't worry.”

You stay alone in the car, feeling the seconds seem to lengthen in the gloom of the huge garage.

Your eyes dart around the contours of the space, admiring unwittingly the luxury that surrounds you, the perfectly lined up expensive cars, motorcycles and razers. A world completely unrelated to your own.

Minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Aemond appears by the car door, his face relaxed.

“We're fine,” he says to you in a soft voice, opening your door and extending a hand towards you.

You take his hand and step carefully out of the car, feeling as if you are crossing an invisible line into forbidden territory. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you toward a side entrance that leads to the house.

The door opens with a soft click and you step into the lobby of the house. Immediately, the fresh air and the faint scent of flowers and waxed wood envelop you.

Everything around you seems to glow, from the marble floors to the crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the high ceiling.

“Wow,” you murmur, almost breathless as your eyes roam the space.

Aemond lets out a small laugh, holding your hand more firmly. He leads you down wide hallways that are everything you'd expect; disgustingly rich.

There are decorations that look like something out of a museum and furniture that probably cost more than anything you've ever owned in your life. The crystal chandeliers never seem to end and you pass through a bunch of different rooms like an office, a library, the dining room, a small living room, a game room and so on.

Then Aemond guides you to a grand and majestic staircase with a forged iron railing.

As you go up, you see on the wall pictures in perfectly placed frames of the entire Targaryen family from different years, but you can't linger to inspect too much as you both move on in a hurry.

Finally, you both reach the second floor and he takes you to his room, which is almost at the end of the hallway. He opens the door for you and upon entering, it is also as you expected, simply stunning and expensive.

The room is huge, much bigger than you could have imagined. The walls are painted in dark tones that contrast with the light wood furniture.

A king-size bed occupies the center, with luxurious-looking sheets that seem as soft as a cloud. In front, a large television hangs on the wall and to one side are sliding glass doors leading to a balcony with a breathtaking ocean view.

“So this is the rich life,” you say with a mixture of awe and humor, turning to him, “A gigantic bed, a TV bigger than anything I've ever seen and a balcony with a view of the ocean? Sure, it's completely normal.”

Aemond laughs softly, closing the door behind him.

“It's just a room,” he says as he walks over to his closet which is actually another big room, just like his bathroom.

“It's like an apartment inside a mansion,” you reply, letting out a laugh as you walk over to the bed and run your hand across the expensive looking bedspread.

He takes one of his T-shirts from one of his drawers and returns to his room, handing it to you.

“Here, so you'll be comfortable.”

You take the T-shirt and hold it in front of you. It's soft, cotton and smells faintly of him.

“Thank you.”

As you change in the attached bathroom, you can't help but think about how surreal this all is. You never thought you'd experience living this, even for one night. You feel like a celebrity, in some strange way.

When you return, Aemond is sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes.

“What do you think?” he asks, looking up at you.

“That your bed is delicious,” you reply with a smile as you walk over and sink into the mattress.

Instantly the softness is indescribable and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you settle in.

“Honestly, I don't know how you're going to get me out of here tomorrow.”

He laughs again, dropping his t-shirt to the floor as well as his shorts before joining you on the bed. His skin is exposed, and though you're used to seeing him shirtless by now, something about this situation feels more intimate, more vulnerable.

Aemond settles in next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His warmth is comforting and you let yourself be enveloped by the sense of security he gives you.

And it feels simply wonderful to be here with him.

“Thank you for staying,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile softly with tenderness, leaning into him and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, then bury your face between his neck and chest, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion take hold of you.

You both fall silent, enveloped in the tranquility of the night and the distant sound of the sea breaking against the shore. And the only thing you think before you drift off to sleep is that you don't want tomorrow to come.

All you want is to stay this way with him.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines @valyrianflower

[flowery-laser-blasts]

STRANGE MAGIC DRAKGO AU

First of all thank you @cocoa-night for letting me know the name of this movie. I saw a snippit of Dawn and Bog a few months back on instagram but I couldn't find the title. The second I watch this? BAM! I'm instantaneously sucked into the whole story. I don't care if people say it's a bad movie or cringe, it makes me happy.

This is a lot so if you're interested in the AU...

Designing these two in the style of the movie proved to be very difficult in the end. I'm still very unsure about these colours and details since it became pretty busy, however, I have left it as is for now and maybe in the future I might redesign it! I thought it was important to implement a bit of each other's colours in their outfits. A bit of blue in Shego's green Rajah butterfly wings and I wanted to capture the green reflection of the Scarab in Drakken's outfit, but the show's style rarely shows very shiny objects so I ended up with green accents in the collar and ends of gloves and boots. Note that these designs change a LOT in my sketches because I'm more 'free' with drawing and don't fully stick to things unless I fully render out things.

THE STORY: It basically follows the same storybeats as the movie but with some added lore I made of my own. Please don't expect a fully written fanfic. This is somewhat inbetween rough notes and script.

Kimberly, the Princess of the Faerie Kingdom, has been preparing to take her place on the throne ever since the day she was born. Under the strict eyes of Miss Go, her Governess, Kim has been leading up to the most important day of her life: choosing her husband and future King of Faeries at the Spring dance. However, Kim has other plans. During lunch periods Miss Go and Kim would often take a stroll in the Castlegarden, where she would listen to her Governess' past adventures as Shego; adventurer, world explorer, kick-ass Faerie extraordinaire. "Whatever would make you quit that exciting life and be stuck in this place?" "Well, for starters: having a roof above my head and three meals a day is nice. A warm bed--" "You've become soft haven't you?" "Do you want extra homework Kimberly?" "No ma'am." "That's what I thought. Let's get back inside. It's almost time for your dance practice." Kimberly never received a 'real' answer to her question but something must've happened in Miss Go's past... Right?

"Sooo... the spring dance huh." "What's with that?" "Oh just... You having to choose a partner for life, that's uh- That's a big deal, huh?" "Yeah, no. I don't think so." "What?" "I'm not going Ron. I am so done with this boring castle! I want adventure! I want to see the things Miss Go has seen!" "Danger, homelessness and poverty?" "The WORLD RON!" "I mean... I guess--" "All I have to do is distract Miss Go long enough during the dance and I can finally be free!" "That woman is like a bloodhound... Unlike Bonnie. Man, I tell you Kiki. I've seen ladybugs in love but that girl has it bad! I passed by her today and she didn't even comment on my 'fashion sense' like usually, all because Brick was weeding the farm!" "Wait, Ron. Rewind; What did you say?" "My fashion sense, you know, my pants and shirt never match--" "No before that!" "Ladybugs in love?" "That's it Ron! Love makes blind, maybe blind enough for us to run away!" "I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Miss Go show any emotion other than anger-- wait 'us'?" "Well, duh, of course! You and me together Ron. You're my best friend since forever! Besides Miss Go may act cold on the outside, deep down I know she has a warm heart." "Well if you say so... But what guy would be brave enough to even try greeting her?" "Easy, general Barkin. You tell him that Miss Go has a crush on him!" "But she doesn't???" "Easy Ron: Love potion... now here's the plan." And thus Kimberly's plan, after Ronald wrote it down on a piece of parchment, was put in action: - Step 1. Get General Barkin to go for Miss Go. (Maybe they even fall in love right? That way we don't need a love potion to begin with!! Right!??! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE DARK FOREST! MOM TOLD ME I SHOULD NEVER GO THERE!) - Step 2. If General Barkin's persistence doesn't work: Love potion. Kim said that we could get some from the Sugarplum Faerie, but I heard that she's just a legend but you know how Kim is; she's headstrong. I love her for that but this is a bit dangerous, isn't it? I'm not going to let her go by herself though! She says she's found old documents in the archives of the castle, but are those even real? What if it's just a tale?? - Step 3. Put some of the love potion in Miss Go's tea? Food? How does this even work! I've never seen it in real life! Can you overdose on it? Argh Kiki why are you doing this to me!!

"Wh-what? The Dark forest?! Miss Go, we all know that no one is--" "I'm joking Princess. Of course I'll come to the dance. Someone has to make sure that you find the right man to marry. The kingdom's fate is at stake." The night before the Spring Dance, Kimberly and Ronald met at the edge of the kingdom, ready to go into the unknown of the dark forest.

"You got all the ingredients Ron?" "Boy do I! It took me a few hours but I found everything we need for a love potion!" "Spankin! Alright, all we've got to do now is get to the middle of the Dark Forest and then in the Kobold King's cast--" "K-k-k-k-k KOBOLD KING? KIMBERLY, THIS WON'T END WELL. I THOUGHT- YOU KNOW, SUGAR PLUM JUST DIDN'T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN SOCIETY ANYMORE AND STARTED LIVING IN THE DARK FOREST... IN A COZY COTTAGE... THAT WE CAN WALK INTO FOR A VISIT? MAYBE GET SOME COOKIES?" "Ron, please. I need you to be serious and focus. Tell me: Are you in or not? I won't be mad at you if you want to go back, but I need to know now." "...I--" Ronald took a deep breath. "Yes, of course I am." "Thank you Ron."

Once in the forest, Kimberly and Ronald snuck around. They evaded giant centipedes and weird looking frogs. Luckily for the duo, they found the way to the Kobold King's Castle with the help of a chipper cockroach that tried to get Ronald's roadtrip snacks. Meanwhile in the castle, King Drakken was having an argument with his mother who, once again, brought in a suitor for her son. "Mother for the SO MANIETH TIME. I. DO NOT. WANT. TO GET HOOKED UP WITH A TOTAL STRANGER!!!" "WELL YOU NEVER LEAVE THIS CASTLE EITHER. IF YOU'RE NOT OUT THERE LOOKING FOR A GIRL, HOW DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO FIND YOU, HMM? I'M GETTING OLDER DREW, I DON'T WANT YOU TO WITHER AWAY LIKE A SHRIVELED UP WALLFLOWER AFTER I'M GONE" "Mother, that won't happen--" "FOURTY YEARS, DREW, FOR FOURTY YEARS I TOOK CARE OF YOU, RAISED YOU WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS AND WHAT DO I GET AS THANKS? A GRUMPY GROUCH THAT DOESN'T WANT TO GIVE HIS MOTHER ANY GRANDCHILDREN." "Oh for the love of--, if you want to take care of something: get a pet!! Love is just an obstacle if you look at the bigger picture." Drakken waved his mother off as his two minions, Fissi and Killi, ran in; telling him about the spies that sneaked into the forest.

Kimberly and Ronald managed to break into the dungeon and found the Sugarplum Faerie. After they got the love potion, they helped Sugarplum to escape but because of her very, very loud singing, the Kobold King arrived. "What do we have here? Two nimwits tresspassing my domain!?" "HEY! DON'T CALL THE PRINCESS OF THE FAERIES A NIMWITT-- Oops.." "RON!" "GIVE ME THAT POTION!" Ronald struggled against the grasp of the King. "KIKI, CATCH!" Ronald thew the flask of love potion in the hopes that the princess would catch it. However as she dove towards it, it broke onto the dungeon floor. The impact caused half of the potion to splash onto Kimberly's face. Enraged, the King tossed Ronald aside and ordered Fissi and Killi to cleanup the mess before more damage could be done. Kimberly's eyes unfortunately fell upon the tyrant's face "AND AS FOR YOU PRINCESS-- why, are you looking at me like that?" IMPORTANT NOTE: FOR THIS AU TO WORK, PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT I SEE THIS AS A TEENAGE GIRL CRUSHING ON/FALLING FOR A FAMOUS CELEBRITY AND IT'S COMPLETELY ONESIDED, LIKE IN THE MOVIE. I DO NOT SHIP KIM AND DRAKKEN. Anyway, Drakken gets the absolute creeps and locks both Kimberly and Ronald up in each a seperate cell. The King was determined to make an antidote but had to admit; this accidental fiasco proved to be bountiful. With the princess as a hostage, Drakken would have the upper hand in demanding that the Faeries would surrender their kingdom to him as an expansion of the dark forest. This was almost too good to be true! Drakken told a few of his soldiers to go to the King of the Faeries and let his demands be known: Hand over the Faerie Kingdom if you ever want to see your daughter back, alive. Luckily for Drakken, Kimberly was very helpfull in gossiping about the kingdom... maybe a bit too much. Soon enough he had too much information. He didn't want to hear endless tales about, for example: Hank, the royal baker, who's cupcakes were the buzz of the town.

From the moment she got up until lunch time, Miss Go managed to evade General Barkin's advances as she made her way to Kimberly's quarters. As expected, she didn't find her there. Going to all of Kim's regular spots, she noticed a crumpled up parchment… Ronald's notes. "Those brats… When I get my hands on them--!!! I might need to find a new job." Miss Go set out to get to the Castle of the Kobold King, hours before his army arrived at the border of the Faerie Kingdom... From this point on, I'll refer her back to Shego as we're outside of the kingdom.

Drakken was going over his plan of attack as Shego crashed into the King's throne room, causing him to shriek and hide behind his desk. "Alright, cough up. Where's Princess Kimberly." "I could take you to her... If you surrender yourself to me, wench." "Fat chance dungbeetle." "HNG! WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!?" "Get that mulch out of your ear, saves people time in repeating themselves!"

Drakken and Shego fought tooth and nail until both of them were out of breath. That's when they noticed a familair voice. "Not again... It's been HOURS!" "Is that?" "I told her to stop talking about the castle... So she started singing instead." "Did she." "Love potion? Yes." "Oh no." Drakken sighed, "Come along... watch your step."

"YOU ARE A SICK, SICK MAN!" "WHAT?! THIS IT ISN'T MY FAULT!! THAT BUFFOON PRACTICALLY AIMED THAT LOVE POTION STRAIGHT THAT GIRL'S HEAD" "YOU'RE STILL TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION" "I'M WORKING ON AN ANTIDOTE IN THE MEANTIME!" "How long until it is done?"

Drakken and Shego spoke to the Sugarplum Faerie who gave Fissi and Killi a list of ingredients to gather. Meanwhile they went upstairs along wtih Drakken's mother to see the dininghall decorated in red hearts and all that hoopla.

"I have nothing to do with this." Shego looked him up and down, "Yeah, I can tell." "I don't know whether to take that as an insult or not." She shrugged. "Take it however you want it."

Hours passed and eventually both Drakken and Shego lost their patience. Both of them demanded to know the status of the antidote. Sugarplum told them that the antidote was inside the dungeon all along. "WHAT!? WELL WHAT IS IT?!" "YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS!" "Well what is it??" Sugarplum smirked and started to play out the tragic lovestory of the lovesick King who tried to forcefully win over the heart of a lake creature who was, unbeknownst to him, already in love with another.

"Ha...hahaha." "What's so funny Kobalt King?" "Even with that love potion, I am just too hideous to love, aren't I?" Shego felt a bit of empathy towards the King. He probably didn't notice it himself, but the few moments when the moon shone onto him through cracks of the darkened castle, he would faintly glow in a beautiful, almost mesmerizing azure blue shine. It almost made his wings and exoskeleton look like a finely polished gem. "ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO WHAT I AM SAYING?" Sugarplum's yelling snapped Shego out of her thoughts. Thinking about the story, Shego realised something: "Wait, do you mean that... urgh... 'true love' is the cure to all of this?" "Bingo! A love potion is fake, nothing about it is real. But true love, nothing can break that bond!" "...and 'in the dungeon'... Ronald! Argh!! Those two kids--" "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" "You locked me up and blamed all your misfortune on me! I tried to warn you but you NEVER LISTEN!" "Fissi, Killi.. Just... Just take her away and let that brat-- I mean; Let Ronald into Kimberly's cell. He might be able to wake her up from her delusional state." Drakken's henchmen took the Sugarplum Faerie and left the room. Shego turned to follow Fissi and Killi but hesitated at the door. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the King standing near the window. She took a deep sigh and walked over.

"Wowwww... you.... uhhhh... You planning on blowing this whole thing off?" "Hm? Yeah. Guess you can call this a revelation, I suppose." "What do you mean?" "This whole 'wanting to take over everything'. I guess I did it because I wanted to become powerful. All these years I wanted to hold power over those who have wronged me in the past and to show sweet, beautiful Amy that I could be worthy of her love. I now realise that I just felt lost. I wanted to control everything but--" "But you can't control everything. Sometimes you just need to let go and focus on yourself. Trust me, I know everything about that. My older brother? Total control freak that hovered over all of my siblings and I. That's why I left home." "It suffocated you... That must've been a difficult decision to take for you..." "Yeah..." "Sooo... Now you are a babysitter for the Faerie Kingdom's Princess." "Governess. I saw the world for a while and after that I grew a bit bored. I wanted something more stable so... teaching. It used to be my passion. But soon Kimmie will be engaged, married and then I'll move onto the next thing." "Well, if you need a place to crash. I can keep a cell warm in my dungeon for you." The both of them laughed. "Come let's stretch our wings." "Great idea!"

The two of them flew out of the castle into the night sky and passed by all sorts of folliage and creatures until Drakken dove into a large bramble.

They enjoyed the flight and most of all; each other's company. That was until Drakken noticed the Faerie Kingdom's army. "Uh-oh... I... forgot about that." "Urgh. Just-- Just wait here. I'll go talk to them. They might shoot you on sight." "Nothing I can't handle... But I might-- er... Go check on Princess Kimberly and Ronald. If you hear singing--" "I'll stall time." Shego took off "Wait!" "Hm?" "...Be careful. That's all."

Drakken got to the dungeon via it's secret entrance and found Ronald and Kimberly, holding each other in an embrace and outside of her cell. "AH GOOD! Great to see you are back to normal... Right?" Kimberly looked over, startled at first and then cringed, remembering everything she did. "Yup!SureAm!Let'sGoRon.HaveYouSeenMissGo?" "She's at the entrance. Come with me before things escalate any further." The three of them ran up the stairs. "Let me get this straight: You're a good guy now?" "I wouldn't necessarily say that, but in this case: sure." "What changed?" "What do you mean?" "Well you went from "I AM GOING TO TAKE OVER THE FAERIE KINGDOM!" to "I'm letting both of you go." What changed? Why don't you want to take it over anymore?" "I suppose that controlling others isn't truly what I want." "What do you want?" "... I think--" "Ron this is so not the time to become a therapist." Kimberly interjected as she pointed out the massive Faerie army with at the front General Barkin.

"For the last time General. I am NOT your ANYTHING." "But-- But Miss Go. What we have--" "Nothing. NO-THING." "That damned monster has brainwashed you hasn't he?! I heard the tales about him kidnapping Sugarplum for his selfish reasons!!" Drakken felt a surge of anger coming over him as he dove headfirst towards Barkin. "I AM NOT BRAINWASHING HER. IF SHE SAYS NO, THE ANSWER IS NO. DON'T YOU DARE TO DECIDE WHAT'S BEST FOR HER!!" The two fought, which gave a misunderstood 'signal' to their allies to charge into battle. Shego grabbed Kimberly and Ronald, moving them out of harms way before looking for Drakken and Barkin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a faint blue shimer in the light of the sunrise. The Kobold King was backed into a corner and with General Barkin's sword at his throat, he admited defeat. "My Hero!" Shego squealed out in joy. "Miss Go! You've broken free from this despicable creature's spell!" Barkin practically tossed away his sword, spreading his arms to receive, what he thought was, a warm embrace from his green Faerie in distress; instead, he received a sucker punch that send him straight into the chasm mere meters away from her and Drakken. "That was terrifying." "You almost dying?" "Your acting." Drakken and Kimberly called off both of the armies. Telling the full story, though excluding some embarassing details for everyone's sake. The Faerie army retreated, turning around to head back towards the Faerie Kingdom, leaving the Kobold King, the Governess, Princess Kimberly and Ronald to part their ways.

"I'm glad that everything got resolved in the end. See Kim? We don't need a love potion!" "That reminds me, why did you want that love potion? Weren't you two already, well, you know... On the right track?" "Oh it wasn't for Kim! It was for mhmpfff--" Kim quickly covered Ron's mouth with her hand, turning beetred. "Kimmie..." Shego crossed her arms looking at the Princess. Kim sighed.

"I want to see the world. Just like you did! I don't want to marry some random guy just so I could rule the kingdom." "You are still young," Shego smiled and brushed Kimberly's redhair behind her ear, which reminded her of her own mother. "you can see the world in due time. You will marry once you're ready and I'm pretty sure you've already found your king." Ron choked on his spit hearing that, laughing nervously. "AHEM MAYBE- MAYBE IT'S TIME TO GO BACK?" his voice cracked. Both Kimberly and Shego laughed at the boy. "Yeah, let's. Kobold King, my apologies for all the troubles we have caused you." "Ah- well... it wasn't all that bad. If it weren't for you two sneaking in, I wouldn't have met--..." "..." "Yes?" "Yes?" "Met-- individuals, such as yourselves, to show me that things aren't all that bad and that love is, mayhaps, a beautiful thing." "...Am I the only one here that thought he was going to say Miss G--OOF!" "Ron!" "It was nice to have met you as well Kobalt. You aren't as bad as they say." "Heh.." "...Farewell." The three Faeries walked off, crossing the bridge. Leaving both the castle and the Kobold King behind. Drakken bit his lip. "...Actually" "Yes?" Shego turned around. "Feel free to visit whenever you like." "Oh. Okay." "Miss Go?" Kimberly had a small smile on her face, "I have learned a lot from you. Ever since I was little, I've seen you as my secondary mother. I'll be good on my own now, besides; I think you might have found your king as well." Shego felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to the Princess' words. She touched her cheek and felt warm tears on her fingers. "Stay out of trouble Princess. I know where to find you." "I'll try my best." Kimberly beamed and hugged her Governess one last time.

"What are you doing Drew?" the King's mother held her son's hand. "What I should've done with Amy: Letting go." "No, you should've told Amy about how you felt. But that's in the past. Now you tell her how you feel." The King turned around to see the green Faerie standing in front of him. Taken aback, he tried to step away but his mother blocked his path. "Tell her. Right. Now!" "Ahem... I-- Erm... it's..." "...Yes?" "I think I-- might, have... I have fal-- fall-- What I mean to say is I lo--" Shego placed her finger on his lips hushing him. "Maybe I should take it from here." she smiled. He hummed in agreement against her touch. That night along the border where magical flowers grew, the Kobold king and the green Faerie danced along to the spring dance's melody that was carried over by the wind. Flying above the Primroses that bloomed between light and shadow.

The end.

Hope you enjoyed reading all of this! :)

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

Mysterion in Chaos Plan

Upon request I'm gonna translate my elaborations on this post on Mysterion's design in my fic :> I wish I could actually present you guys with a drawn design but i haven't had time to draw lately plus all my attempts to draw him until now haven't been satisfactory to me, but I still wanna rant about my choices.

[Anyways, first things first, IF anyone ever is tempted to draw any fanart (giggles and kicks feet uncontrollably) I want y'all to know there's no pressure to stay true to these ideas. The descriptions & details for Mysterion's getup in my fic are purely practical, because design is a visual element that isn't considered in questions of practicality and realism. If you have any ideas you like better for his design, or if you feel like any of this is hindering your creative freedom, by all means throw this in the trash and do what you want instead. I love seeing people's individual creative interpretations and I don't wanna hinder anyone's creativity.]

Anyways, with that out of the way, let's get to it.

(from chapter 2 of Chaos Plan)

I'm a SUCKER for Miles Morales' silhouette as Spiderman in the first movie, and because both Mysterion and Spiderman are both vigilante/heroes with working class roots I love to find similarities between the two of them. So I'll be referring to Miles a few times in this post >:)

I like the idea of Kenny using really old maybe counterfeit brand basketball shorts that he used to wear to sleep or something. I'm not yet settled on the specific patterns/lines that I want them to be adorned with, so just for reference you can imagine something like this:

As for colors; I like the idea that these shorts might be the brightest part of his outfit as a reference to Kenny's dumbass "underwear over pants" design in canon.

His canon design is also the main reason I don't wanna give him just normal long pants, and instead stick with the Miles-Morales-type shorts-over-thermal leggins idea.

I like to think that Kenny got thermal ski underwear (pants and undershirt) from Kyle or Stan at some point for when they went camping (bc ain't no way Kenny would go skiing), and he just forgot to return it aka they forgot to ask for it back, so that's what he uses underneath his hoodie & shorts to keep warm.

For colors, I like the idea that they're a dark color to contrast the light-colored shorts but have lines similar to these in a neon green color. Just to add a fun something

And well, then there's his hoodie. Just a regular ol' hoodie, a dark one of course to blend in better into the night (dramatic ass bitch), dark purple like Mysterion's cape in canon except he has no cape because. well. realistically, impractical. But yeah, I imagine it to look a little makeshift, which is why I have Kenny spray-paint the question mark in the front (and an unmentioned "M" on the back of his hoodie) to give it that tacky look. Again, like Miles does his Spiderman costume in the first movie.

(screenshot from chapter 6 of Chaos Plan)

As for his pouch/fanny pack; I was very inspired by the type of clothes people who do parkour wear, and that shit has to be very light for maximum mobility. A utility belt wouldn't be the best choice for hip mobility, so a fanny pack he can slap across his chest and back would be the way to go. It just needs to be big enough to store some fireworks, a gun (the one he stole from Harris lmao), cigarettes and other miscellaneous things like a lighter, lock picks, his small knife, maybe a chapstick idk he definitely should

Something like this but, again, creative freedom is welcome.

And well, then there's Kenny's gloves (crucial!! bc it's cold as balls plus he CANNOT LEAVE FINGERPRINTS ANYWHERE!!), his mask, and a bandana to hold back his hair. Here's a really old shitty sketch I did once gashagdha (yes he has long hair that he has to tie together. I haven't mentioned this in the fic because i'm an idiot)

And well, for warmth & anonymity reasons I often describe him wearing a thermal tube scarf, kinda something like what I often see in Princess Kenny fanart to cover his mouth. But I haven't yet found a way to make this look cool in combination with the mask so maybe this will only stay in written word...

As for his shoes, I'm not really attached to any specific type but I do find it significant that they look like they're being held together by hopes and prayers. Tongue, collar and lining sticking out upward as the shoelaces wrap tight around the ankle to ensure it doesn't slip. Maybe duck-taped together at the tip or something. Listen, it's hard to buy new shoes when you don't want any purchases to get traced back to your identity, okay. He's forced to raw-dog this shit and we respect that.

Anyways that's it!! someday i'm going to edit this monster fic and all these details will be much clearer from the text alone, but for now we're running on the first version of the story so bear with me. I might do a similar post for Chaos too if I don't manage to draw him first :)

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - Part Six

Word count: 9.2K

Warnings: angst, smut!! (18+), fluff too, all the emotions

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Masterlist

The rhythmic clinking of tools echoes in your quiet apartment as Bucky, Steve and Sam work on replacing the shattered window while you are at work. A crisp draft from the afternoon air slips through the gap, making Bucky shift uncomfortably. He stands nearby, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the street below for any signs of movement.

“You sure this place is secure now?” Sam questions, handing Steve a screwdriver. “Because that was one heck of an entry.”

Steve nods, securing the new pane in place. “We’re reinforcing it, but I think we need to figure out who did this, not just block it out.”

Bucky let out a low huff, his jaw tightening. “It’s not just a message. Someone out there knows too much—about me. About what happened.”

“And they made it personal,” Sam adds.

Steve brushes his hands on his jeans. “We’ll track them down, Buck. But we’ve got to start smart. What’s the connection? Why now?”

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. For your and Elizabeth’s sake, he tries to push down the storm of emotions that threatens to overtake him. “They’re tied to what happened to me. The people who took me. Could be Hydra… or someone trying to replicate what they did to me.”

“Then we’ll find them,” Steve says firmly. “Together. Like we always have.”

Sam leans against the wall, arms crossed. “And we’re not just talking about going after them, man. You need to let us help you—really help. None of this lone wolf act.”

Bucky’s lips press into a thin line. He nods, but the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

Steve glances at Bucky, sensing his tension but choosing not to press further. Instead, he redirects his focus. "Sam, make sure we log the details of the break-in. We might’ve missed something the first time through."

Sam nods and pushes off the wall, grabbing his phone. "Already on it. I’ll run the details by my contacts too—see if there’s been any chatter about suspicious activity in the area."

As Sam steps into the hallway, Steve leans closer to Bucky, lowering his voice. "You don’t have to carry this alone, you know."

Bucky exhales sharply, his metal fingers flexing unconsciously. "I’m not carrying it alone. I’m just… trying to keep it together."

Steve places a hand on his shoulder, grounding him as they walk out of the guest room and to the living room. "We’ll figure this out, Buck. You’ve faced worse and come out stronger. And you’ve got more people backing you now than ever before."

Bucky gives a tight nod. "I just don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me."

Before Steve can respond, the sound of the front door opening draws their attention. You step inside with Elizabeth following you as you juggle a bag of groceries in one hand and your keys in the other. 

“Looks like you guys got it all sorted,” you greet with a smile, though your gaze lingers on Bucky, who stands tense and guarded.

“Almost there,” Steve replies, straightening up and dusting off his hands. “We’ve reinforced the frame and added some extra measures to make sure it’s not so easy to break next time.”

Elizabeth bounds over to the couch, her backpack slipping off her shoulders. “Next time?” she echoes, her tone half-serious and half-curious.

“There won’t be a next time,” Bucky mutters, his eyes flicking to the guest room and then back to her. His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it that makes Elizabeth glance at him curiously before pulling out her homework.

“You picked her up?” Sam asks, returning from the hallway with his phone in hand. He glances at you and then back at Elizabeth.

“Figured it was the easiest and the least I could do while you all handled this,” you reply, setting the groceries on the counter. “Besides, it gave me a chance to get her opinion on snack choices. She’s got some strong feelings about granola bars, by the way.”

Elizabeth looks up with a grin. “Because chocolate chip is way better than raisin.”

Sam chuckles. “Kid’s got good taste.”

As the light banter fills the room, Bucky shifts, his arms crossing over his chest again. He watches the easy interaction, his tension visibly easing just a fraction. You notice and meet his gaze, offering him a small smile before pulling a loaf of bread from the bag.

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner, by the way,” you offer, glancing at the three of them. “It’s the least I can do to say thanks.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Depends. What’s on the menu?”

“Spaghetti,” you answer. “And if Elizabeth has her way, garlic bread too.”

Elizabeth perks up. “You have to make the garlic bread. It’s the best part!”

Steve grins, stepping closer to the counter. “Sounds like a solid meal. Count me in.”

Sam nods in agreement. “Same here. I’m not missing garlic bread.”

You glance at Bucky, who hesitates. For a moment, it seems like he might turn the offer down, but then Elizabeth pipes up, “You’ll stay too, right, Uncle Bucky?”

Her wide-eyed look cuts through his reluctance, and with a faint smile, he nods. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

As you move around the kitchen, the atmosphere gradually softens. Steve and Sam take turns helping Elizabeth with her homework while Bucky keeps his position near the guest room, though he doesn’t seem as tightly wound as before.

“You know,” you say after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, “it’s nice having a full house like this. A little chaotic, maybe, but nice.”

Sam smirks. “Chaos is kind of our specialty.”

Steve chuckles. “True enough.”

Bucky, still standing by the closed door, finally turns away from it and looks at you. “You don’t mind us sticking around?”

You meet his gaze, your expression warm. “Not at all. Feels safer, honestly. And besides,” you add with a small grin, “I figure if anyone tries something again, they’ll regret it pretty fast with you three here.”

That earns a low chuckle from Bucky, and for the first time all day, there’s a flicker of something lighter in his expression. “You’re not wrong.”

Elizabeth glances up from her homework and adds, “Uncle Bucky’s the best at keeping people safe.”

The quiet pride in her voice makes him pause, his lips twitching into a faint but genuine smile. “Thanks, Bee.”

Dinner is filled with easy conversation and the kind of camaraderie that feels natural, even in the wake of the unease from before. By the time the dishes are cleared and the table wiped down, the apartment feels less like a crime scene and more like a home again.

As the evening winds down, Bucky finds himself lingering by the door while the others gather their things. He turns to you, his gaze steady. “Thanks—for dinner and picking up Elizabeth.”

You nod, your smile soft. “Anytime. You know that.” You lean in and kiss his cheek. 

“Please call me if anything feels off. Don’t hesitate.” Bucky pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your head. 

“I promise. Thank you for everything.” 

Later that night, Bucky is consumed by the quietness of his apartment, save for the soft hum of the heater battling the December chill. Bucky sits on the edge of the couch, staring at the empty tea mug in his hands. Dinner had been… nice. Uncomfortably nice. He can’t remember the last time he’d felt so at ease—laughing at one of Sam’s terrible jokes, watching Elizabeth light up over dessert, hearing your voice cut through the heaviness in his chest like it belonged there.

It should’ve been good. Great, even. But instead, it left him unsettled. Warmth wasn’t something he was used to, not in a long time but now it wrapped around him like a second skin, soft but unfamiliar.

Alpine pads up onto the couch, curling into his lap. Bucky absently runs his fingers over her fur, his metal hand resting stiffly at his side. It’s not that he doesn’t trust it—it’s that he doesn’t trust himself. Not with this. Not with people he cares about.

His gaze shifts to the hallway, where Elizabeth is staying for the night after she pleaded with her dad, his room door slightly ajar. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Bucky crosses the room and gently nudges the bedroom door open. Elizabeth stirs at the sound, her small frame wrapped in a blanket as her stuffed bear rests on the pillow beside her.

“Uncle Bucky?” Her sleepy voice pulls him closer.

“Yeah, Bee, just me,” he says softly, crouching down to her level. “Wanted to check in before you head off to dreamland.”

Her brows knit together, her drowsy eyes searching his. “You look sad.”

Bucky lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not sad. Just thinking too much. Go back to sleep, alright?”

“You’ll keep us safe?” she murmurs, already halfway back to sleep.

His throat tightens at the trust in her voice. “Always,” he promises, pressing a kiss to her head and smoothing the blanket over her shoulders. “Nothing’s getting past me.”

Once she’s asleep again, Bucky quietly shuts the door and leans against the wall, dragging a hand through his hair. He could handle threats, danger, even his own ghosts—but this? The trust and love of people like Elizabeth and you? That’s what made him feel like he was walking on thin ice.

Back on the couch, the quiet feels heavier now. The mug is now cold, its contents long forgotten. He sets it on the table and leans back, Alpine shifting against his lap. His mind circles back to the warmth of the evening—Elizabeth’s laughter, your voice, the way you looked at him and how you reminded him that you're all in this together.

But you... you make it seem effortless. You see through his walls without tearing them down, slipping past his defenses like sunlight through cracks.

Together. That word clings to him, even now. It feels foreign, like a language he’s trying to relearn after decades of silence. But it also feels... dangerous. Trusting someone meant opening up, and opening up meant exposing the parts of himself he’d rather leave buried.

He glances at the leather-bound journal on the coffee table. A quiet ritual, one of the only ways he can sort through the noise in his head.

With a sigh, he picks it up and flips to a blank page. The pen feels heavy in his hand as he stares at the empty space, searching for the words he hasn’t said aloud.

It scares me.

I don’t know how to do this.

Dinner tonight felt like stepping into a memory I don’t deserve to have. Warmth, laughter, people who care—things I stopped letting myself believe in. But then there’s Elizabeth, trusting me to keep her safe. There’s Y/N, looking at me like I’m not just the sum of everything I’ve done.

Not the kind of fear I’m used to—the kind that keeps you alive in a fight. This is different. It’s... quieter. More patient. It whispers things I can’t ignore: What if you mess this up? What if you hurt them? What if they find out who you really are and walk away?

I can’t stop thinking about Y/N. How her voice cuts through the static in my head. How Y/N smiled at me tonight like I wasn’t broken.

I don’t know what to do with this feeling.

Bucky stares at the page for a long time before closing the journal. The words sit heavy in his chest, like a truth he’s only just starting to admit to himself.

As Alpine stretches and curls tighter against him, Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Tomorrow, the world would demand answers, plans, and action. But tonight, he allows himself this: the quiet hum of the heater, the softness of a cat’s fur, and the hope—no matter how fragile—that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have to do it all alone.

The next morning, Steve and Sam spread out across the living room, papers and laptop screens cluttering the coffee table. The remnants of breakfast—Elizabeth's half-finished cereal bowl sat off to the side, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. Bucky stood near the window, his arms crossed as his gaze flicked between the street below and the scattered information.

“This symbol,” Steve said, tapping a grainy photo on his screen. “It showed up on the corner of the broken window frame. It’s faint, almost like it was etched there on purpose.”

Sam squinted, leaning closer. “That’s not random graffiti. Looks like an old Hydra mark.”

Bucky stiffened at the mention, his fingers curling into fists. “That’s not just any Hydra symbol,” he said, his voice low. “That’s from the division that… experimented on me.”

The room fell into a tense silence. Steve exchanged a glance with Sam before speaking. “You think this is tied to someone specific from back then?”

Bucky nodded, his jaw tight. “There were scientists, mercenaries… a lot of people involved. But there’s one name that stands out.” He hesitated, the weight of the memory pressing against him. “Jakob Neumann. He oversaw the project that gave me this.” He held up his metal arm, the morning light glinting off its surface.

Sam frowned, pulling out his phone. “That name rings a bell. Give me a sec.” He typed quickly, his brow furrowing as he scanned through a database. “Neumann’s been off the grid for years, but…” His eyes lit up with realization. “A guy matching his description popped up in a report from Romania six months ago. It wasn’t confirmed, but there were whispers about him working on black-market enhancements.”

Steve frowned, straightening. “If he’s resurfacing, it could explain why they’re coming after you now. Maybe they’re trying to tie up loose ends—or restart their work.”

Bucky’s grip on the windowsill tightened. “If Neumann’s behind this, he won’t stop at me. He’ll go after anyone connected to me.”

Steve stepped closer, his tone resolute. “Then we take the fight to him before he gets the chance.”

Sam glanced between the two of them. “We need more intel first. Charging in without a plan isn’t gonna help anyone—especially with Elizabeth and Y/N caught in the crossfire.”

Bucky turned sharply at the mention of your name, his eyes narrowing. “Y/N shouldn’t be involved in this. I won’t let her get hurt because of me.”

Sam raised a hand in surrender. “We’re all on the same page, man. That’s why we’ve gotta be smart about this.”

Steve nodded. “Sam’s right. Let’s track down where Neumann was last seen and see if we can get a trail on him. And Bucky…” Steve’s voice softened. “We’ll handle this together. You’re not doing this alone.”

Bucky looked between them, his chest tightening with conflicting emotions—gratitude, frustration, and the ever-present fear that his past would destroy what little good had found its way into his life. “Fine. But we don’t wait too long. Every second he’s out there is another second he’s a threat.”

By midday, the living room had transformed into a makeshift war room. Steve had set up a detailed map on the coffee table, pinpoints and notes marking places where Neumann or his associates were rumored to have been seen. Sam worked the comms, reaching out to his contacts for any new leads, while Bucky stood off to the side, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.

“Okay,” Sam said, straightening from the couch. “Here’s what we’ve got so far. Last confirmed sighting was in Bucharest, but there’s chatter about someone matching Neumann’s description heading east. Budapest, maybe.” He jabbed a finger at the map. “There’s also been talk of some underground tech trades—enhancements, biometrics. Sounds like his kind of game.”

Steve nodded, his gaze serious. “If he’s moving, he’s staying one step ahead. We need to figure out where he’s going next. Budapest could be a stop, or it could be a dead end.”

“We won’t know until we get boots on the ground,” Bucky interjected, his voice steady but tense.

Sam leaned back against the armrest, arms crossed. “And how do you suggest we do that? Can’t exactly hop on a plane and start asking questions without drawing attention.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. “Sam’s right. We need to be subtle. If Neumann’s involved in black-market tech, he’s probably dealing with the same players he’s worked with before. We could start there.”

“Which means infiltration,” Sam added. “We need someone who can blend in, look like they belong in that world.”

Steve glanced at Bucky, who raised an eyebrow. “You saying I look like I belong in a criminal underworld?”

Sam smirked. “If the arm fits.”

Despite the tension, a faint chuckle escaped Steve. “Sam’s got a point. You’ve been off the grid before. You know how to move in those circles.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. He hated the idea of diving back into a world that felt too close to the one he’d fought so hard to escape. But he also knew he couldn’t let anyone else take that risk. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“You won’t go alone,” Steve said firmly. “I’ll handle the logistics from here, and Sam will be your backup. We’ll make sure you’ve got everything you need before you head out.”

Sam gave a mock salute. “Guess I’d better pack my ‘blending in’ jacket.”

Bucky managed a faint smirk but said nothing, his mind already racing ahead to what he’d have to do. The thought of you and Elizabeth flashed unbidden in his mind, a reminder of what was at stake.

The evening sun dips low, casting golden light across the quiet street as Bucky approaches your apartment. He hears faint laughter through your front door, Elizabeth’s voice blending with yours, and for a moment, the sound eases the tension knotting his chest.

He knocks lightly, his metal arm making a softer tap than he intended. The door opens almost immediately, and there you were, a warm smile lighting up your face.

“Hey, Bucky,” you greet, stepping aside to let him in. “Perfect timing. Elizabeth just finished her homework, and we were about to start a game of Uno.”

Elizabeth pops her head around the corner, a grin spreading across her face. “Uncle Bucky! You have to play too. Y/N's not very good at bluffing.”

You laugh, mock-offended. “Hey, I’m plenty good at bluffing! I just happen to be honest when I play with you.”

Bucky chuckles softly, stepping into the cozy space. “You’re teaching her how to bluff? Pretty sure Steve wouldn’t approve.”

Elizabeth giggles and runs to grab the deck of cards. “He doesn’t have to know.”

You gesture toward the kitchen. “Want some tea before you take her home? I just put the kettle on and I have that Chamomile kind you like.” 

Bucky blushes slightly from the thought of you purchasing his favorite tea for when he comes over. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you move to the kitchen while Elizabeth sets up the game in the living room. You hand Bucky a mug, your gaze lingering on him as he takes a sip.

“Long day?” you ask gently.

Bucky nods, his eyes fixed on the liquid in his mug. “Yeah. We’re… dealing with the intruder situation. Complicated.”

“Something dangerous?”

He looks up, your concern evident. For a second, he considers brushing it off, giving you the usual noncommittal response. But something in your steady gaze tells him you wouldn’t buy it—and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to lie to you.

“Could be,” he admits quietly. “It’s connected to my past. And to people who might still want to use me—or worse.”

You set your mug down and cross your arms, leaning against the counter. “And you’re worried they’ll come after you. Or Elizabeth.”

“And you.”

Your breath catches for a moment, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. His blue eyes meet yours, searching, hesitant, yet brimming with an intensity that makes your heart race.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Bucky,” you say softly, stepping closer. “I’m tougher than I look. But you don’t have to carry all of this alone, you know.”

He exhales sharply, his shoulders tensing as though resisting your words. “I’m not good at letting people in,” he admits. “But the thought of something happening to you, to Elizabeth—it’s not something I can handle.”

Your hand instinctively reaches out, brushing against his metal arm. The coolness of the vibranium contrasts with the warmth of the moment. “You don’t have to handle it all alone. You’ve got Steve, Sam… and me. We’ve got your back, Bucky.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes holding an unspoken intensity, and without thinking, you lean in. You kiss him then, slow but sure, your lips finding his with a sense of quiet confidence. The moment feels natural, like something that was always meant to happen, and it’s as though the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this brief, private space.

The kiss deepens, and his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the tension between you dissipating as you both lean into the intimacy of it. When you pull away, you don’t step back immediately. Instead, you stay close, your foreheads gently resting against each other as you both catch your breath.

“Y/N…” he breathes your name softly, the weight of it carrying more meaning than any words could convey.

Before you can respond, Elizabeth’s cheerful voice rings out from the living room.

“Uncle Bucky! Are you coming? I already shuffled!”

You both laugh quietly, the moment fading, but the connection still crackling between you. Bucky takes a step back, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess I’d better go lose at Uno.”

You smile, feeling your heart still race. “For the record, I’m definitely going to beat you both.”

As you both move toward the living room, you glance at him once more. The warmth in his gaze matches yours, despite the chaos happening in your lives. 

The next Friday afternoon, the school is bustling with the usual end-of-week energy. Kids laugh and gather their things for the weekend as you finish up your last tasks in the classroom when you notice something out of place—an envelope wedged between the pages of a textbook on the corner of your desk. It’s a simple, unmarked envelope, but there is something about it that makes your skin start to prickle.

You hesitate, heart racing, and open it. Inside was a folded piece of paper, handwritten in a neat but unsettling script.

"We’re watching. It’s only a matter of time."

Your blood runs cold as you read the words again. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the implication is clear. Your stomach twists in dread. You stuff the envelope into your bag, trying to shake the sense of unease that grips you. Elizabeth is already waiting by the door, backpack slung over her shoulder and a wide grin on her face.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” she asks, her voice full of enthusiasm.

You force a smile, nodding as you grab your things and follow her out into the hallway. The bustling school seems far too normal for what you're feeling inside. The tension from the note stays with you, coiling in your stomach. You glance over your shoulder one last time as you exit the building, scanning the hallway as though you might spot something or someone.

Elizabeth’s chatter helps distract you as you make your way to the parking lot. As you reach the front gates, you spot Bucky’s familiar truck idling by the curb. He leans against it, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd with a kind of practiced vigilance. When he sees you, his expression softens, and he straightens up, pushing off the truck with a slight grin.

“Hey, you two,” he says, his deep voice grounding you for a moment, calming the nerves that have been rattling around inside you. “How’s the day been?”

Elizabeth jumps up and down, eager to give her answer. “It was awesome! I got 100% on my math test!”

You smile at her excitement but can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. There’s something in his gaze, something concerned, but you can’t quite place it.

“I’m proud of you,” Bucky says, giving her a playful ruffle of her hair as she beams up at him. Then, his attention shifts back to you. “How about you?”

You hesitate for a moment, the unease creeping back. You can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. You glance at Elizabeth, then turn your gaze to Bucky, knowing there’s no way to keep this from him any longer.

Bucky senses your hesitation. “Hop on in Bee. You can watch the iPad on the way home.” He helps Elizabeth buckle in, shutting the door and stepping back up on the sidewalk near you. 

“I found something today,” you say, your voice quieter than usual. “In my classroom. A note.”

Bucky’s brow furrows slightly, his posture shifting, the relaxed demeanor slipping away as he gives you his full attention. “A note?”

You nod, your hands subconsciously clutching your bag tighter. “Yeah. It was in one of the textbooks on my desk. No return address, no name. Just these words.”

You pull the envelope from your bag, handing it to him. Bucky doesn’t need to read it aloud; the message is clear as he scans it quickly, his face hardening with each passing second.

His jaw clenches, his free hand flexing as if he's holding something back. “This is...”

“Not a coincidence,” you finish for him, your voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like whoever’s behind all of this is getting closer. I don’t know what they want, but it doesn’t feel safe.”

Bucky steps closer to you, his presence both comforting and protective, his expression now fierce. “This changes things. We need to keep you and Elizabeth safe. I’ll talk to Steve and Sam. We’ll make more headway on who is behind this immediately.”

You nod, the weight of his words sinking in. For the first time, the realization hits that you aren’t just dealing with some random threat. This is bigger, and it’s personal.

Bucky glances over his shoulder toward the truck, then back at you, his eyes softening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you. His voice drops low, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I don’t like this, Y/N,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “But I’ll make sure we figure this out. Whatever it takes.”

You nod again, but the unease lingers in your chest, the weight of his words sinking deeper into you. It's not just the threat, but the quiet protection he offers, the way his presence feels like a shield around you.

Elizabeth’s voice cuts through the moment, cheerful as ever. “When are we gonna get to eat? I’m starving!”

“We’ll figure something out, Bee.” Bucky chuckles softly, shaking his head. “She’s got a point. I think we all need some downtime this weekend.”

His eyes flicker to the sky, then back to you, his expression softening again. “Listen, I’m gonna drop Elizabeth off at home and promise to make up our usual Saturday mornings to her later, then I was thinking…” He pauses, his tone turning a little more uncertain, as if he’s considering the best way to ask. “Maybe you want to come by my place afterward? I’ll make dinner. We can just… hang out. Take a break from all this.”

You glance at him, surprised but grateful for the offer. You’re tired, emotionally drained from the constant worry of the past few days. The idea of a quiet night, just the two of you, feels like the perfect way to reset.

You meet his gaze, and there's a soft warmth in his eyes as he waits for your answer.

Bucky nods, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, reassuring smile. “Alright, I’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Just relax.”

“I’d like that,” you say softly, your voice filled with relief. "I think I could use some quiet time."

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, the stress from the day slowly starting to lift. With Bucky here, you know things will feel safer, even if just for tonight.

“I’ll see you later, then,” you say, taking a step back toward the truck as he moves to climb into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. “Be safe driving and if anything suspicious happens again, please call me.” 

“Promise.” You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, before stepping back and waving to Elizabeth. 

As he pulls away with Elizabeth’s excited chatter filling the truck, you watch them go, feeling a sense of calm you haven’t had in days. It’s a small, but welcome, piece of normalcy.

The tension from the day slowly begins to ebb away as you settle into Bucky’s cozy apartment, the warmth from the stove, and his presence feels like the perfect safe space, and for the first time in a while, you don’t feel the need to constantly look over your shoulder.

You curl your legs beneath you, making yourself comfortable, and watch him move around the kitchen. He looks so at ease, and yet, you can tell there’s something lingering just beneath the surface.

“Need help with anything?” you ask, breaking the silence.

Bucky glances over his shoulder, giving you a small smile. “Nah, I’ve got it. You just relax.” He focuses on the pan for a moment, the quiet thrum of his concentration giving way to a slight sigh. He turns back to you after a beat. “How’s the job going this year? How’s the school year treating you?”

“It's going okay. The kids are great, but it's been a lot. It always is at the beginning of the year and with Christmas break coming up. I love it, though. I just... sometimes feel like I'm running on fumes.”

Bucky’s expression softens, and he walks over to the couch, sitting beside you. “Yeah… I get that. It’s like you’re trying to be strong for the people who need you, but sometimes… you just want to let go.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the words. He looks at you, his gaze soft but intense, and you sense that he’s not just talking about you, but about himself too.

“I get it,” you say quietly. “You don’t have to pretend, you know? You don’t have to always be the strong one.”

Bucky lets out a breath, leaning back into the couch, eyes searching the ceiling as if he’s looking for the right words. His hand rests on his knee, his metal fingers lightly tapping a rhythm against his skin.

“I haven’t always had that kind of space,” he starts, his voice steady but tinged with something raw. “Growing up, my family was... tight-knit. My mom, my sister... my dad was always working, but we were close. And then after the war, everything changed.” He pauses, as if that thought alone takes a toll. “I kind of shut them out. After everything that happened…I lost my mom and didn’t go to her funeral. My dad told me off and told me to never go back after that. I regret it everyday, for not showing up. For never saying goodbye.”

You look at him, your heart aching for him in a way you hadn’t expected. The same loss you both shared, though in different forms.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say softly, your voice gentle, understanding. “I can’t imagine losing so much... like that. I used to go back home to see my dad, but after my sister and nephews... it’s just not the same anymore. I don’t really have anyone anymore. I used to think family meant blood, but I guess I’m learning that it’s more about who’s there for you, right?”

Bucky looks at you then, his blue eyes steady, as if weighing your words. He nods slowly, understanding. “Yeah. I guess that’s true. Steve, Sam, and Elizabeth—they’re my family now. They’ve been my rock. And, well, now you, too.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, full of meaning. You feel the quiet sincerity in them, and you realize that, in some small way, you’ve become part of that family too.

A smile tugs at your lips. “I like that,” you whisper, your gaze holding his. “I like being part of your family.”

Bucky’s expression softens, and he turns toward you fully, his knee brushing against yours. He hesitates for a second, his hand flexing, as if uncertain about something. Then, in a quiet voice, he adds, “You’ve got a place here. For as long as you want it. This—this family? It’s yours too.”

You feel your heart swell, warmth blooming inside you at his words. Something inside you loosens, and you let out a slow breath. The connection between you two feels stronger now, like a thread that’s been woven between you and tied with care.

You reach out, your hand brushing his, and he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and something else—something deeper. His eyes flicker to your hand, and then to your face, before he gently takes your hand in his, his fingers warm against your skin.

Bucky lets out a breath, his voice quieter now. “I know we’ve... crossed some lines already, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

You smile softly at him, your thumb gently brushing over his hand. “Bucky, you’re not pushing me into anything. I trust you.”

He looks down at your joined hands, his metal fingers slightly trembling as he touches you, unsure of how to navigate the unfamiliar territory. But then you gently place your other hand on his, your fingers running over the cool metal of his arm. It’s a gesture of reassurance, and you meet his eyes, your gaze unwavering.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I don’t mind. I want you to touch me, Bucky. In any way that feels right.”

Bucky’s breath hitches, his chest tightening as he gazes at you with something like longing in his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he leans toward you, his face inches from yours. And without another word, he kisses you.

It’s soft at first—gentle, as if testing the waters. But then you pull him closer, your hands moving to his chest as you deepen the kiss. He doesn’t pull away, and for a moment, everything else fades. The world outside doesn’t matter. It’s just you and him, connected in a way that feels like home.

Bucky’s hand, still unsure, finds its way to your cheek, the warmth of his touch mingling with the coolness of the metal on his other hand. And you welcome it, the mixture of both parts of him, feeling the whole of him in that moment.

When the kiss breaks, both of you are breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you try to regain composure. But neither of you says anything. Words aren’t needed right now. It’s enough to just be with each other.

And when Bucky whispers, “I’m glad you’re here,” you know he means more than just tonight.

“I think I’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time.”

Bucky’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it’s as if time slows down. He studies your face, his own expression serious but tender, as though he’s looking for something in you. Then, without another word, he pulls you closer, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he kisses you again.

This time, it’s different. Slower. Deeper. There’s a weight to it, a shared understanding that goes beyond physical connection. His lips press against yours with a quiet intensity, and you feel the storm of emotions between you two—the hurt, the healing, the desire for something more.

You let your hands move to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. His metal arm rests on the couch again beside you, the cold steel a reminder of his past, but you’re not afraid. You reach out, tentatively at first, your fingers brushing over it before gently cupping his arm. You sense the hesitation in him, the uncertainty about how much he can give of himself without losing control.

But you smile, meeting his gaze. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I want you. All of you.”

He leans down to kiss you again, taking his time. His lips are soft, but there’s an undeniable hunger in his touch, a yearning for something you both haven’t fully acknowledged until now. His metal arm comes around you, drawing you closer, and you don’t flinch. Instead, you press yourself against him, feeling the weight of his arm, the coolness of it grounding you as much as the warmth of his other hand that cradles your face.

There’s no rush, no urgency between you two, just the slow, deliberate connection of bodies and hearts. He takes his time, kissing you deeper, exploring every inch of you as if he’s memorizing the feel of you. You reciprocate, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him even closer as if you’re afraid this might all disappear if you don’t.

But then, suddenly, a sharp, panicked sound from the kitchen breaks the moment.

“Shit! The dinner!” Bucky mutters, pulling away abruptly. His face shifts from passion to surprise as he stands up quickly, his hand fumbling for his shirt as he rushes toward the kitchen.

You can’t help but laugh, a soft giggle escaping your lips. The seriousness of the moment vanishes in an instant, replaced by a sense of playful chaos.

Bucky hurries into the kitchen, his movements a blur as he scrambles to turn the stove off, muttering curses under his breath. You get up, following him into the kitchen, still smiling at the way he’s trying to salvage the meal.

“You might want to check the potatoes,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, crossing your arms.

Bucky glances at you over his shoulder, his face slightly flushed from the rush. “I swear, I was so sure I had everything under control,” he says with a sheepish grin. “But then… well, you know.”

You smile, watching him move around, trying to salvage the dinner with a slight laugh in his voice. The lightheartedness between you both feels so natural, so freeing, and you feel more at ease than you have in a long time.

Bucky finally turns back to you, his hands still wiping off the remnants of whatever went wrong in the kitchen. His gaze softens as he looks at you, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he walks back toward you.

“Guess we’ll have to make do with takeout,” he says, his voice light. "Any preferences?"

You shake your head, still feeling pleasantly warm from your earlier kisses. "Surprise me."

Bucky nods and pulls out his phone to place an order. As he talks, you let your gaze wander over him - the strong line of his jaw, the way his hair falls across his forehead, the subtle shift of his shoulders as he moves. When he catches you looking, his eyes darken.

He sets the phone down and moves closer, his steps measured and deliberate. 

Bucky's eyes lock onto yours as he approaches, his gaze intense and full of longing. The air between you feels charged, crackling with electricity. Without a word, he reaches for you, his hands gently cupping your face as he draws you in for another kiss. 

This time, there's no hesitation. His lips move against yours with heated urgency, and you respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. A soft moan escapes you as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. You part your lips eagerly, deepening the kiss as your bodies press together.

Bucky's hands roam down your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When they reach your hips, he grips you firmly and lifts you up. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. 

Bucky gently lowers you onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's an intensity in his gaze that makes your breath catch. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms as he looks down at you with a mix of desire and tenderness.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks softly, his voice rough with want. 

You nod, reaching up to cup his face. "I've never been more sure of anything."

That's all the permission he needs. Bucky captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring everything he feels for you into it. His hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of you, discarding your clothes in the wake. 

You arch into his touch, your body aching for more. Your nipples harden under his fingers, and you gasp as he pinches them gently. Bucky's mouth leaves yours, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. He pauses at your breasts, lavishing attention on each nipple in turn.

You moan, your back arching off the bed as he sucks and nips at your sensitive flesh. Bucky's hand slides down your body, tracing a path towards your core. When he reaches your panties, he hooks his fingers under the waistband and pulls them down, leaving you bare for him.

His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your slick folds. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathes, his voice husky with desire.

Then, without another word, he's back to kissing you, his fingers mapping every inch of your skin as your hearts beat in time. There's no rush this time, only the quiet intensity of being together. His fingers slip between your legs to tease your clit, drawing out a moan from your throat.

When you can't wait any longer, you pull him down for another kiss. "Bucky, please..."

With a groan, he pushes back, his movements unhurried as he pulls off his own clothes. Your eyes drop to his cock, and he chuckles under his breath at the hungry look on your face. His hand wraps around the base of his shaft, stroking slowly as his eyes lock on yours.

"I don't want to rush through this. I want to feel you for the first time nice and slow." He pauses, his gaze flickering down your body. "Tell me you want that too."

Your mouth has gone dry, but you manage to croak out an assent. "Y-yes... yes, please."

Bucky nods, his teeth catching the corner of his mouth. Then he reaches to his nightstand for a condom and rolls it onto his shaft. You watch, mesmerized, as he slicks himself with lube.

The anticipation is driving you crazy, your body so sensitive with want. When Bucky finally slides a finger inside you, your toes curl and your hips jerk up off the bed.

"Oh god, oh god..."

He chuckles, his thumb teasing your clit. "Not yet. Just hold on and feel me."

You do as he asks, letting his touch wash over you as he works you open. Your nails dig into your palms as you wait, your heart hammering in your ears. He takes his time, his finger crooking inside you to hit the exact spot that makes you whine.

"Okay," he says, pulling his fingers out with a satisfied smirk. "Ready?"

You nod and he shifts forward, his cock nudging at your entrance. You open your legs wider, wanting him to fill you completely. Slowly, inch by inch, he slides inside you until he's fully seated.

Bucky buries his face in your neck, his breathing ragged. "Fuck," he pants. "You feel even better than I imagined."

You wrap your legs around him, your pussy clenching around his shaft. "Please move."

He groans, his hips pulling back slowly before he pushes forward again. "Okay, baby, okay..."

The friction inside you is exquisite. Every stroke hits your g-spot perfectly, making you shake and whine with pleasure. His cock hits deeper and deeper with each thrust, the sounds of your wetness echoing through his bedroom as he fills you.

As he fucks you, Bucky's kisses fall over your skin like rain. Your lips, your neck, the shell of your ear. His teeth nip at your collarbone, eliciting a startled cry from your throat. He smiles against your skin, his rhythm never faltering.

It feels like hours and only seconds at the same time, your bodies moving in perfect sync. When his teeth bite down on the flesh between your neck and shoulder, a sudden jolt of pleasure makes you see stars. Your body goes taut, your nails digging into Bucky's shoulders as you scream his name.

The sensation of you clenching down on his cock is all it takes for him to join you over the edge. Bucky gasps, his hips stuttering before he comes hard inside you. He moans, the sound vibrating against your skin.

You stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms as you come back down from the high. 

After a few quiet moments, Bucky pulls you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the bathroom. His touch is steady, almost reverent, as he sets you down gently. The sound of the shower fills the space as he turns it on, pulling you under the warm spray with him. His fingers brush against your skin, caressing your face as if committing every detail to memory, his blue eyes reflecting the unspoken tenderness between you.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that feels endless, consuming. It’s not just desire—it’s longing, devotion, and the overwhelming need to keep this moment forever. The thought of being apart is unbearable. He presses you closer, his hands firm on your waist as he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and hoarse.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you meet his intense gaze, your heart swelling. You reach up, fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw before brushing soft kisses along his neck.

“Me either,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “I’m so happy to be here with you. To feel this. To have you.”

The way he looks at you leaves you breathless—like he’s seeing every part of your soul and holding it in his hands. His eyes carry a depth that makes you feel seen, cherished, and claimed all at once. And you realize you want nothing more than to lose yourself in him, to become inseparably intertwined.

Bucky’s grip on your hips tightens slightly as though anchoring himself to the present, to you. His heart is pounding, emotions surging through him in ways he’s never felt before. He wants to tell you everything, to give voice to the feelings consuming him, but fear knots in his chest. How do you put something so profound, so earth-shattering, into words?

Instead, he holds you closer, his silence speaking volumes. And in his arms, under the cascading water, you feel it all—the unspoken promises, the yearning, and the undeniable truth that what’s between you is something neither of you can ever let go.

Bucky grips your thighs, pushing you flush against the wall, sucking on your neck as you moan loudly. His cock rubbing against you clit torturously.  

"Fuck," Bucky moans against your lips. "Please, I need you again..."  

You smile, knowing exactly what he's getting at. You lick his bottom lip, your breaths coming in short pants.  

"Take me," you whisper against his lips.

Bucky growls and pushes inside you. You let out a high pitched moan, nails digging into his shoulders. The force of the thrust makes your thighs quiver. Bucky fucks you slowly in long thrusts. Each one sends waves of pleasure through your body. He reaches up and cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently before pinching your nipples, making you arch your back and cry out his name. 

The sound of your wet bodies colliding echoes through the room. Your cries of pleasure are loud, and Bucky grins, loving that he's causing that. That he makes you feel like that. He leans in close to you, breathing in the scent of your neck before biting it gently, making you squeal again.

He increases the speed of his thrusts as you feel yourself getting close, head falling back against the wall. Bucky runs his tongue along your neck to your collarbone, making you shiver. 

"I'm close," you moan. "Oh god, I'm close..."

"Come for me," he whispers against your ear. "Come on my cock, baby." 

He picks up the pace, slamming into you now. You moan loudly, the only thing you can think is how good Bucky feels inside of you. He's hitting all the right spots, sending pleasure running through your veins. 

"Fuck, I'm going to cum..." Bucky pants against your neck. 

"Yes, oh god" You squeal as you feel him stiffen inside you, and that's all it takes to push you over the edge. You cry out in ecstasy, body shaking against him. You can feel Bucky doing the same, his cock pulsing inside you. He presses you lips together, swallowing your moans. You stay flushed against the shower wall for a few minutes, the warmth of the water washing over you.

“You okay?” Bucky asks as he helps you stand to your feet, wobbling slightly as you steady yourself. 

“Yeah,” Is all that you can speak, overwhelmed with your emotions at the moment. 

“Let me take care of you,” Bucky murmurs, his voice gentle as he reaches for the shampoo. His touch is tender, his fingers threading through your hair with such care it feels like a quiet promise. He keeps the soap from your eyes, leaning in to press soft kisses against your damp face. The warmth of his affection draws a soft giggle from you, the sound making his lips curl into a small, content smile.

When he rinses the shampoo out, his hands trail down to your body, lathering a soapy cloth with delicate precision. His touch is delicate, as if every inch of your skin deserves his undivided attention. The intimacy of it—the simplicity of being cared for—sends a warmth through you that has nothing to do with the water. You gently take the cloth from him, mirroring his actions with the same tenderness, pressing kisses along the muscles of his back as you go.

Once the water is turned off, Bucky grabs a towel and wraps it around your body, patting you dry with the kind of focus that makes your heart ache with gratitude. He pulls his robe from the hook, draping it over your shoulders and tying it snugly, ensuring you’re wrapped in his warmth. With a towel secured around his waist, he takes your hand and leads you back to his bedroom.

You settle on the edge of his bed, watching as he rummages through his drawers. The way his brow furrows slightly in concentration makes you smile, the quiet intimacy of the moment filling the room with a palpable sense of connection.

“These should work,” he says, finally pulling out a soft T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He hands them to you, his fingers brushing against yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter.

“Thank you,” you whisper, the words heavy with meaning.

He pauses for a moment, his gaze meeting yours, and you swear you see the slightest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. But in his eyes, there’s something deeper—a quiet joy in caring for you, in sharing this space, this vulnerability. And as you slip into the clothes, the scent of him surrounding you, you know that being here with him feels like home.

Bucky watches as you slip into the T-shirt and sweatpants, his chest tightening at the sight of you dressed in his clothes. It’s such a small thing, yet it fills him with a warmth he can’t quite explain. He tosses the towel aside and pulls on a pair of boxers, then gestures toward the bed.

“Come on,” he says softly, his voice almost shy.

You crawl under the covers, the crisp sheets cool against your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat that spreads through you when Bucky slides in beside you. He turns off the bedside lamp, the soft glow of the moon through the window casting silver shadows across his features.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The quiet hum of the night settles around you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels safe. Right.

Bucky shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours, and you instinctively roll onto your side to face him. He does the same, propping his head on his hand as his steel-blue eyes search yours.

“You comfortable?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper.

You nod, smiling. “More than comfortable. This… this feels good.”

Bucky’s lips twitch into a soft smile, but it fades just as quickly. His gaze drops for a moment, then returns to yours, something unspoken hanging heavy in the air between you.

“I…” he starts, then stops, exhaling a sharp breath. “I’m not great at this—at saying what’s on my mind.”

You reach out, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready. I get it.”

He places his hand over yours, his calloused fingers warm and grounding. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… new. I’ve spent so much time keeping people at a distance, thinking it’s better that way. Safer. But with you…” His voice trails off, and he looks at you like you’re the only thing grounding him in this moment.

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his expression. You feel the same—a pull so strong it terrifies you. But you can’t bring yourself to say it either, not yet. Instead, you lean in, resting your forehead against his.

“With you, it feels different,” you whisper. “Like… I can finally breathe.”

Bucky closes his eyes, his jaw tightening as he fights the emotions threatening to spill over. His thumb traces slow circles over your hand. “I’m scared,” he admits quietly.

“Me too,” you confess.

The honesty lingers in the air between you, fragile but unbreakable. You both know there’s more to say—deeper truths waiting to be spoken—but for now, this is enough.

Bucky shifts closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest. You nestle against him, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. His lips brush the crown of your head, and you hear him whisper something so soft you almost miss it.

“Don’t let go,” he murmurs.

“I won’t,” you promise, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

And as sleep begins to claim you both, you realize that even though neither of you said the words, the feeling is there—strong, unyielding, and undeniable.

Thanks for reading! Please reblog & comment <3 would love to hear how you enjoy it and feel free to send in requests!

[imjustanasshole]

I have a dumb and undeveloped theory, but a theory nonetheless:

what if Will's painting is a foreshadowing of season 5?

okay, hear me out: first of all, the three-headed dragon represents the 3 "villains" (basically the monsters of the Upsidedown) we got throughout the series (the Demogorgon, the Mind Flayer (twice) and Vecna/One/Henry) and how they're gonna have to completely defeat the 3 of them in season 5. Because, for now, the only thing they've been able to do is sent them back to where they belong, but alas, they keep coming back, so maybe it's time for a final battle. Another interpretation of this could also be about the types of villains in the series: the "bad men" (aka: the people from the lab, Dr. Brenner, etc.), the Upsidedown monsters (previously mentioned), and a third thing that we haven't seen before or something we've seen without realizing (like closed ones being used as villains, e.g.: the flyed, especially Billy, and Vecna's hallucinations, especially Max's mom).

the second thing I wanted to point out about the drawing is that it features only the og party. I think this means that season 5 is going to be centered around them the most, much like season 1; we've spoken a lot about "full circle moments" when theorizing, and it really doesn't get any more full circle than that. We've got an overhead framing with Lucas and Dustin standing behind, with Lucas more towards the back and Dustin kind of in the middle, and Will and Mike pretty much side by side (which might mean something about their dynamics this season, but that's another topic entirely), with Mike a little more forward, either leading them or facing the Evil™ first (could also be sacrificing himself, I'm not sure). It also may look like Will and Dustin are in the middle if you don't really get the angle, but I don't think that's it.

What that "different point of views are different character duos" thing could mean, imo, is that we're going to see multiple different pairings among the og party this season; it's already been confirmed that there will be scenes with Lucas and Mike, and Will and Mike, plus some bts pictures of Mike with Steve and Robin might lead us to believe that there will be scenes of him with Dustin as well, AND the, atp, infamous bts photo of Will, Mike, Joyce and Lucas could also mean we're getting Lucas and Will scenes (or at least Lucas-Mike-Will) (this last two could be a stretch). (Disclaimer(?): we can't trust the bts pictures that much, just because two actors/actresses are together on set doesn't necessarily mean they're filming together, for this the pap pictures are a way more reliable source of information).

Now, is undeniable that symbology is really important in Stranger Things, and I might be wrong and reaching way too much, but, I don't know... It just seemed really intentional that Will made a drawing for Mike specifically that features the four of them, and with such an specific situation too, I don't think we've ever talked about a three-headed dragon before, that hasn't been a recurring villain of their campaigns, as far as we know, so I really think it might truly mean something, if not specifically this.

If this is crazy and makes no sense, you guys can ignore it, I might just miss analyzing paintings in art history now that I've graduated high school and this might be my way of coping with it. On the other hand, if someone else has already talked about this theory or this is a well-known speculation in the fandom, I was not aware of it, I swear this popped up in my head when I was looking at the goofyass drawing that Mike's Funko pop is holding in number 1539.

Either way, if you're interested and want to talk about this with someone, please choose me, because I'm going crazy over here, grasping at straws. Thank you for the attention.

[would-holden-caulfield-like-nge]

I rarely (if ever) see fanart of Kirby as a burn survivor after that fire incident in the gym. I was wondering, could you draw something depicting post-Chapter 5 Kirby and his recovery from his fire-related injuries?

Just for fun, I took this as an opportunity to try imitating the official promo style.

It would probably suck for him, that he couldn't exercise for a pretty long time. Plus, the permanent scarring probably wouldn't be fun either - though, I guess it wouldn't be visible if he wore his full football gear? Maybe he would cope with things by overtraining, trying to convince everyone he's still the same cool guy and all.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

I hate to ask but who is hua Chang

Hua Cheng is the deuterantagonist of the Chinese web novel Heaven Official's Blessing! It's a historical fantasy novel about gods and ghosts and cultivators (xianxia) by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. It's also a gay romance (danmei). The main themes are destiny, love, and what it means to be a good person. It has a comic version (manhua) and one-soon-to-be-two seasons of animation (donghua).

He's an 800+ year old ghost who has a sentient sword made from his own dismembered eye, runs a city, turns his enemies into blood rain, creates silver wraith butterflies and has been devotedly worshiping/pining after his god, Xie Lian, his entire life. This book is the longest hyperfixation I have ever had. So I think it's pretty good (understatement of the century).

I can and have written essay length rants about him but here is a paragraph i wrote a while back about my favorite things about him, to sum up:

His gender probably. The way he looked fate in the eyes and said “fuck you, old man” and built a highly successful life of his own. How he is so fucked up but still hyper-competent. How all his strength comes from love. How his devotion changed as he grew up but never wavered. The way he is kind but not nice. His infodump swag.

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 2 : johnny c.

[averlym]

"careful, or i'll quote that"

[forcedhesitation]

I really cannot believe that there are so many dbd players who are more enamoured with david, shittorio, or god forbid FELIX, than gabriel. gabriel is the most handsome man in dbd. there isn't even any competition. he's gorgeous, the very picture of a dashing sci-fi hero. I can somewhat forgive people obsessing over david, since he's been in the game forever, like dwight, and people develop attachments. but it's the whole-damned fruit salad to pretend that he, or the two none pizza with left beef bozos listed, are even remotely as hot or cool as gabriel. gabriel's "actually a clone" lore is fucking awesome and super creepy. great criticism of capitalism/humans playing god too, just like the whole chapter is. he's a total badass and the sole survivor of an attack carried out by a violent, terminator-like AI gone rogue. literally a final boy. I would play an entire video game just about him and his adventures on dvarka, if bhvr made one.

[todayisafridaynight]

That fuckin new bucket list trailer for 8?????????

hey what if we all just cut ourselves in half after this huh

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A green-toned drawing of two characters from an original universe, shown from the shoulders up. It's framed as though they're taking a selfie. On the left is Heathrow, a human with dark skin, long hair, a good number of facial scars, and two painted lines below each eye. He wears something akin to a green hoodie, with fluffy plant matter sewn into the back of the hood. On the right is Crassie, a half elf, which in this universe entails long pointed ears, a pair of short pale horns, a slightly rabbit-like nose and markings under her eyes. Her skin is olive-toned, sporting a couple distinct scars on her face and hand, and she's wearing what is essentially a bush and spiked glovelets. Both of them are smiling, Crassie a little bit wide-eyed and Heathrow with a fond expression. The background's a saturated green with the text "1 YEAR!". End ID]

A redraw-in-spirit of the post from last year's Feb 16 that introduced these two to my blog. It's their birthday :]

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?