Tumgik
#Well this has turned quite sad!
somegrumpynerd · 4 months
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I apologize in advance-
Okay so, image your boys (Noot boots kids, ur AU, etc!) Wake up one day, and, everything is normal
...expect a more Canon evil NM and their NM body switched (for some reason) freaky Friday style.
And so like the Canon Bad guys suddenly have a much more fatherly NM and it's like- "wtf"
Don't apologise you're all good I love imagines!!!
Oh the canon murder time trio would be so weirded out, canon Nightmare is cold and cruel and sadistic and my softened dadmare style take would be immediately hit with the "who the fuck are you??" and could probably not keep the canon versions of these boys in line
I'd be more worried about my truce au versions of the boys who now have a canon Nightmare to deal with, because that's going to end badly, and probably quickly
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thebirdandhersong · 7 months
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sometimes (very often) I just sit there like ?????????
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weezerlvr228 · 17 days
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why he so mysterious…
demur
#weezer#rivers cuomo#i had a bad day! well actually i looked freaking amazing and got sm compliments today sooo!! i am pretty as freaksauce.#it was fairly good but i failed my physics test :(( …. it’s so sad… 34 percent before the curve.#34?!??? HOW???? I THOUGHT J ATE TS UP???#so yeah; insane …. but it’s okay because i’m good at other stuff and have other things i am good at!#oh yeah so guys guys guys.#there’s this girl who i do not like and i have not liked her since freshman year; right? and she’s fairly popular; your average overachieve#ing person; BUT i always didn’t like her. she left a bad taste in my mouth and i didn’t know if i was just jealous or WHAT#BUT I HAVE REASON TO HATE JER! MY GUT WAS RIGHT!#good job lyss#she’s a homewrecker and basically likes to get w people who have partners…. AND SHE WSS BEING FLIRTY W MY BF LIKE HELLO ???#who she think she is?#my bf doesn’t talk to her anymore since i said i don’t rlly like her and how she is thankfully#but my friend was talking to me in Seminar and was like ‘oh ya if i had a bf i’d kms than let him be around her.’ is that mean ? or is it#okay since she has done that multiple times then gets defensive and hates to be called out for kt#her gf right now had cheated on her boyfriend for the girl i don’t like; and this has happened TWICE!#HELLO???#like wtf…. and she sends the screenshots of it when she stops talking w the person who cheated on their partner for her and starts to play#the victim… like the weezer song. you can’t pay for dinner w the victim card ya.#well billy talent; but you know what i mean. so she’s playing the victim and she was saying “omg…. this feels so wrong…. but-but i love you.#stfu yn 😭#like holy moly. holy guac. “i don’t know how to quit you…’ turn off your phone ! (^^) close the app !#easy as that girl dw i got you#but for real. NOBODY LIKES JER BC SHES SO TOXIC. OMG IM SO JAPPY IM NOT ALONE ONNMY HATE TRAIN#anyways yeah. i can go more in detail for you all if anybody cares about my silly high school drama
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gibbearish · 5 months
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am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes
#that being said. pressurized cabins drive me insane a little bit#and also it gives you pretty intense sea legs for a While#like. the ones from the first trip hadnt gone away by the return one. so. might be stuck with that for a few days#we shall see#also ajr live fucks severely#the albums were already incredible but that was a goddamn religious experience#like. idk the way i think abt it is theyre more djs than a regular band esp w their performance showing the making of way less sad#like their music is very electronic‚ theyre making mixes of their own sound effects more than singing in one go#so like. the vocals were a teeensy bit rough at times#notably times it has taken me Literally Hundreds Of Hours Practice to be able to consistently sing along with#and times ive found its literally physically impossible to like. no matter what#idc how big your lungs are‚ there is no human on earth who can do that final run of karma in one breath#much less to An Entire Stadium After An Hour Of Jumping And Dancing And Singing Loud As Fuck#so like i dont blame them for that‚ you dont go to live shows expecting it to be 100% perfect anyways jwbdjsbfksb#the trumpet however. well she was certainly playing sometimes. and was very enthusiastic about her flares.#however. in most of their songs they use midi trumpets to my ear at least#meaning she was likely an addition specifically for live performances and in my personal band kid opinion#prooobably was not in any of the like. higher tier bands? idk just. a lot of the mistakes she was making were hitting as stuff that got#taught out of us the instant we joined any band beyond regular concert#so i would guess she was probably just like. a friend who happened to play trumpet in high school or maybe even just middle school#and they knew that the trumpet parts in their pieces were big and distinct enough that like they /had/ to get a live player#and just kinda. didnt anticipate the audition -> performance gap#like. her tone was really fried the whole time like she was playing as hard as possible#which. she was mic'd. have the sound guy turn her up.#the way they did it made it sound like she was using a mute but not. like she only got the bad parts of a mute from it yknow#her tempo and timing were. bad. theres no nice way to put that one it just Was Bad‚ like the trumpet runs in ajr songs arent. complicated#like. quite literally if you handed me the sheet music right now i would have it down perfect in a week at absolute most#and better than that player on sightread. like. we did so many sightreading drills.#like ill share my band kid creds if anyone cares but i need to emphasize this isnt me being braggy like. they genuinely just arent hard#fuck im out of tags. w/e i think only like one of yall also listens to them anyways so i can leave it there
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imaginarianisms · 5 months
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1 day i will make a meta of sansa's dynamic with her metaphorical champions/suitors & how that correlates to the ashford theory (i.e sansa being betrothed to joffrey baratheon, then promised to willas tyrell, then being married to tyrion lannister, then being married to harry hardying then married to aegon vi targaryen & aurane velaryon but it is not this day. lmao. when i make that meta it'll be so over for y'all.
#just know that. she never marries after aurane. btw lmao#like if he like g-d forbid ever died before she did she'd like. literally never marry or love again like. thats it lmfao#but anyway like. she has a complicated relationship w/ all of them tbh & reflects on them sometimes.#she obviously hates joffrey for him abusing her but like. she can't help but feel sad for him at times bc like. he was so young.#if he had the right people around him maybe he would've turned out okay eventually. but it didnt happen. she never met willas but sometimes#she wondered what it would've been like to be lady of highgarden but she hopes he's doing alright. her dynamic w/ tyrion is. complicated#like. he was never like openly cruel to her or anything & she's grateful to him for saving her life & standing up for her but like.#there's always that grief surrounding their families & i think she resented & mostly afraid of him at the time but in hindsight she's+#grateful that he never hurt her or forced himself on her. harry she hardly knew unfortunately but like she disliked him at first#but then he actually seemed to warm up to her & she had him tied around her lil finger but she knows that she wouldn't like to be married+#to a guy who actually has children w/ sb else. like. she's seen how that played out & while she wouldn't be mean it makes her uncomfortable#but especially surrounding aegon bc like. she's not naive enough to say she loved him but like. she actually LIKED him#like. while she was wary of him at first she warmed up to him & genuinely respected him as a person & most importantly aegon was her FRIEND#they got along rly well due to their similar upbringings & what they had to do to survive & like. he's actually a decent guy in canon. lmao#he's handsome & was chivalrous & honorable & sweet w/ her but also like batshit insane in a good way. like.#he was the golden prince she always wanted since she was a little girl; the prince that joffrey was supposed to be but never was.#he gave her a future as queen of westeros that was originally HERS. so when daenerys eventually executes him she has mixed feelings about i#aegon was good to her & she'd vowed not to betray him & she actually intended to keep that vow. to her she was forever in his debt+#he gave her a future from her isolation & suffering @ winterfell bc of how much everything changed & he waited for her to love him back.#he actually showed her respect & gave her a solid future when she felt alone & abandoned & led her gently into a world of his own making+#& gave her back her honor & a future. esp when the north was divided between jon rickon & herself. most preferred jon or rickon over her.#without aegon's intervention she probably would've had to marry some northern lord below her station. the winterfell succession crisis wild#but aurane velaryon? that's the love of her life. her bold captain. he taught her how to love & coaxed her in the sun to bloom & freed her.#freed her from the chains of her family obligations. he taught her to break the rules of tradition & follow her heart & trust her instincts#he was there with her in her darkest hour. he quite literally saved her life & defended her honor when no one else had the balls to do that#no one looks @ or touches her the way aurane does she loved him madly truly & deeply he took her girlhood in his stride but when autumn cam#she escaped & had to push him into the deepest recesses of her mind in the name of survival & pragmatism but she never stopped loving him.#& his sweet memory brought too much heartache & bittersweetness for her. she lowkey waited for him for years. & they EVENTUALLY reunited !#he fought & got legitimized for HER. she's. so genuinely happy w/ that man. he's one of her best friends & the father to her children.
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osaemu · 1 year
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GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER
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✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW
contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.
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you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 
as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.
you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.
hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.
you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.
humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.
on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.
you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 
a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.
you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.
you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.
it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.
satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 
you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 
and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.
it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.
"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.
"no, i'm�� wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 
satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"
"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."
satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"
you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"
well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 
"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 
not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.
"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."
"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—
you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.
satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"
you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."
satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"
it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.
just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.
"you should fuck me."
oh my god.
satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"
you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.
he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.
"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."
"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.
"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."
satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.
"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.
he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.
"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"
when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."
at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 
it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.
"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.
"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."
and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.
"g-gojo, i can't—"
"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"
"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"
satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.
you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.
as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.
"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."
you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?
"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.
"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."
he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"
"wha— why'd you stop?"
satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.
"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."
your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?
"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."
satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 
"hmph."
satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"
you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"
before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.
"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"
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cursed-peanut · 3 months
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Before Sukuna was defeated, he hid your identity from history as well as he could. He wanted to make sure his beloved lover was never found by the sorcerers. However, after his death, no one was there to stop you from being found and sealed.
They would have killed you, but the love poetry and letters Sukuna had written to you was proof that you were his only weak point, so you were sealed in the fear that Sukuna could possibly return centuries later and you could be used to calm him as a back up.
Centuries later and the ancient sorcerers were right. The fearful King of Curses was revived and the higher ups of the Jujutsu world wanted Itadori Yuji executed for being his vessel.
However, Gojo Satoru had other plans.
Your prison realm was stored away deep within Jujutsu High, and he knew exactly where you were and how to unseal you.
“Where…am I? Who- who are you?”
“You are currently at Jujutsu High, a school that trains young sorcerers for the world ahead of them. And I am Gojo Satoru, a teacher here at Jujutsu High and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. But don’t worry, I didn’t unseal you to hurt you.”
“What did you unseal me for then?” You have no clue what he’s talking about. You’ve been stuck in a cube for what felt like — and was — many many centuries. And this strange man with white hair and a blindfold is telling you about things you barely understand. Your head is spinning.
“I wanted to reunite you with someone.” The man turns around, waiting for you to follow. “Are you coming?”
“How do I know you won’t kill me?” You say shakily, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You’re so unbelievably scared.
“I won’t. I just want to bring you to someone you know. Someone you love. Sound good?” He finally turns to face you again. Even though he’s blindfolded, it’s like he can see you shaking on the floor.
You wearily bring yourself to your feet and purse your lips. “…okay.”
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Gojo: Hey, Yuji. I’m with someone
I’d like you to meet. Meet me at
the training field in 20 mins.
Yuji: Okay! See you soon Sensei.
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The walk to the training field felt long but also fascinating. Everything around you was so new! How long had you been in that cube? You’re pulled from your wonder when you see someone sitting on a step by the field. His fluffy pink hair reminds you so much of Sukuna it makes your heart break. You miss him so much. Perhaps Gojo has taken you to meet his descendant?
“Ah, Sensei! Who did you want me to meet?”
“Hello Yuji! I wanted to introduce you to someone very important. Say hello to L/N Y/N!”
“Oh, hello Mx. L/N! I’m Itadori Yuji.” He gives you a bright smile and a firm handshake.
“Hello…” There’s a beat of silence before Itadori turns to his teacher.
“So, why’d you want me to meet this person?-“
“How is Sukuna right now?” You perk up at this. Did he just say Sukuna? Was this kid Sukuna? No, definitely not. Then what…
“Huh? Well, he’s completely slient for once. It’s actually quite refreshing to not have his constant nagging- why’d you ask?” Suddenly an eye and a mouth apear under Itadori’s left eye.
“Y/N…”
“Huh- hey!” Itadori slaps his cheek to stop Sukuna from freaking you out.
“It’s okay, Yuji. Let it happen.”
“But-“
“Sukuna?” Itadori’s confusion intensifies when he sees you tearing up. Not out of sadness, but rather happiness and confusion. Just who are you?
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
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Sharing a bed with kny men
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Pairings: Yoriichi x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 5,7k (lmao)
Warnings: injury in Yoriichi's part, smut in Sanemi's part so read if you're 18+, this is a long ass fic y'all, not proofread
This is actually my first time posting Sanemi smut and I'm super scared. Let me know what you think 🥹🤍
Also, do you want me to do other characters too?🫶
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Yoriichi
I heard you @laurencrsnt 🫶
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All your life, you never even thought about the possibility that maybe, you’ll encounter a demon someday. Why you, out of all people? Why especially you?
Even now with its cold eyes glaring down at you and your shoulder ripped open by its claws, you fail to find an answer for that. Is it your fate to die right here, when you only went out at night in order to buy medicine for your little sister who has fever? Is dying the cruelest death really your destiny when you wish for nothing more than growing old and watching your own children live their lives?
It’s unfair.
You shouldn’t lay here, crumpled onto the still wet street. You shouldn’t feel the sensation of your eyes watering, your hands trembling, your heart racing.
This shouldn’t be your last day walking on this earth. You didn’t even have the chance to find the man of your dreams yet…
It’s ridiculous and you know it, that spark of determination that rushes through your bones. All of the sudden you spring back onto your feet and start running. Out of the city, away from the lit streets straight into the dark woods.
Even if you have to die here, you won’t give up this easily. You won’t allow this demon to end your life without putting up a fight.
“Why do you girls always think you can run away, huh? It’s too easy to sweep you off your feet”, the demon behind you comments dryly.
With a swift motion of his hand, it digs open your tender flesh all over again, sends your violent scream echoing through the lonely forest. You fall to the ground like a bag of rice, your torn leg now refusing its service completely.
“Let me go!”, you shriek in horror.
No, you don’t want to die here, you just want to go back to bed and forget about this.
But the forest ground isn’t your bed and the demon in front of you who’s ready to slice through your throat isn’t only a nightmare.
Your heart sinks to the floor, body suddenly feeling numb and lifeless. You will die here.
“I’ll keep you in good memory. Well, at least for tonight”, the demon jeers at you.
You close your eyes, desperately try to imagine your little sister. She’ll find herself a loving husband and her very own family without any doubt. Even without you around, her life will turn out alright. Even without you around, life goes on. You don’t have to feel sad or guilty, you just have to let go…
“Get away from that woman.”
A low male voice, so charismatic that you think you might dream. He sure must be handsome. Men with voices like that always have a matching face.
A slicing blade, a dull thud. But no claws that dig into your flesh one last time, no bow of relief that you’ve been awaiting for quite some time by now. Your eyelids start shivering. When is this finally over?
“Are you alright? Please allow me to help you up.”
The second something touches your skin, your eyes snap open in an instant. But they aren’t greeted by those venomous red orbs from earlier. No, these ones are soft but strong and have that calming fuchsia color. This isn’t a demon.
This is a man.
“Don’t be afraid. The demon is gone”, he continues speaking with his low voice.
You have no control over your own body and shivering limbs. It’s impossible for you to say a single word. Are you really out of danger? Is it really over?
When he pulls you off the ground, a violent scream escapes your lips. No, you don’t want to die, you don’t want your life to end tonight. Not like this, not without saying goodbye.
“Please calm down, everything is alright now”, the stranger tries to reassure you, but his words don’t even reach your ringing ears.
You gasp for air like a fish on land, forehead now covered in ice cold sweat. This can’t be your end.
If Yoriichi doesn’t act now, you might faint due to your stress. But what is he supposed to do? You don’t seem to listen to his words and touching you might only make it worse. Maybe you need, assurance?
“I won’t hurt you, see? My hands have no intention of doing you any harm.”
Gently, he glides his fingertips up and down your uninjured harm. Despite the look of horror on your face and your gaping wounds, you do have a lovely face and truly remarkable eyes.
“I came here to help you”, he continues until his fingertips finally brush over your tear-soaked face.
What is this feeling of warmth deep inside his chest? You aren’t the first woman he saved from the claws of a demon.
“I would like to accompany you on your way back home-“
“No”, you suddenly blurt out.
Even though lying in bed on your own was all you were able to think about just a few moments ago, the thought feels like a threat now. What if another demon follows you back home? What if your little sister gets attacked because of your foolishness? No, you simply can’t go back now. But on the other hand…Just the thought of sleeping alone here in the woods runs shivers down your spine.
“I…I’ll find a place to stay. Otherwise…they might harm my sister…”, you mutter.
“Allow me to escort you to my estate, then.”
You yank your head to the side in sheer disbelief, eyes searching for a spark of humor in his calming orbs. Is he really serious about that? After all, you’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name. Now that you think of it…who is this?
“How can I know for sure that you aren’t a demon yourself?”
“Take my hand”, he instructs you gently.
Is this really a good idea? You take a deep breath in, try to calm down your pounding heart. What do you have to lose?
When your shaky fingers wrap themselves around his much larger hand, you get ingulfed by warmth. His palms feel rough but also comforting against your bruised skin.
“Demons are cold since they are dead”, he explains briefly.
“But I am not. I am a demon slayer. It is my only destiny to safe innocent souls from their death.”
Oh. Your gaze drifts towards a katana that hangs dangles from his belt. No, demon don’t find with those weapons. So, are those words really true?
“You…You want to help me?”
“I’d love to help you if you allow me to.”
What has gotten into him? Did he really offer you to hold his hand, let alone to sleep at his house so you don’t have to fear the night on your own? Never in his life, Yoriichi allowed himself to develop feelings apart from empathy for those around him.
But those eyes. Those eyes of yours really captivate him, devour him fully. How is he supposed to leave you out here, soaked in your own blood with bruises all over your body?
“You…really would?”
Is this really okay? When you were a child, your mother told you over and over that you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers, let alone man.
But…does that also include the handsome, charismatic and armored ones?
“I keep my word. Also, your wounds need care as well. Please, allow me to help you.”
What do you have to lose.
“If that’s the case, I’d love to take your offer”, you reply shyly.
“I’m glad to hear that. I will show you the way-“
A loud groan escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. His charismatic eyes almost made you forget about the gaping wound the monster from before inflicted on you.
Almost.
“You shouldn’t move your leg with a wound like that. I will carry you to my estate.”
“You will…carry me?”, you mutter with widened eyes.
But just when you try to take a step forward, his words become painfully clear. No, there really is no way you’ll be able to walk anywhere with that leg. But allowing him to carry you?
“I might be a little heavy.”
“Let me assure you, you aren’t heavy at all.”
“Fine…”, you grumble.
“But only a few meters.”
Gently, he stranger wraps his arms around your shoulder and knees before he starts walking.
He smells good. Like a field of flowers on a sunny day. And the way his heart beats against your cheek reminds you that you’re still alive, that you survived somehow.
This man saved you.
“I didn’t even thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. This is the least I can do for you after I almost came too late.”
He stares blankly at the blood that still drips from your leg. Just a few seconds later and that demon would have killed you with him simply watching. Why? Why is he not able to save them all, why is he still not good enough to stop this madness?
“Don’t tense up, don’t think anything less of yourself because I was injured. I was a fool for leaving the house this late at night on my own.”
Despite the fact that cold sweat still runs down your forehead and even though your fingertips still shake in shock, you cup his cheek and force his troubled eyes to look at you.
“I am beyond thankful for my rescue. The worst thing about dying today would have been leaving my little sister behind. But you saved me. And not only that, you even offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I really don’t know if…If I’d be able to sleep on my own tonight…”
The stranger doesn’t say a word, his eyes roaming around your face without a real aim.
“Oh, I didn’t even ask. What’s your name?”
“My name is not important-“
“I’m (y/n)”, you introduce yourself friendly.
“My…my name is Yoriichi”, the man carrying you mumbles.
Yoriichi. An unusual name that you’ve never heard before.
“That name suits you well.”
“We’ll arrive soon. I hope you don’t expect a big mansion since I am living in a rather small cottage-“
“I’m living in a tiny barrack in the city. A house in the woods sounds like a dream”, you mutter.
The second you open your eyes again, you find yourself in a wooden cabin with a plain futon lying on the floor and an improvised kitchen in the back of the house. Nothing special, very fitting for the man who gently lowers you onto the futon.
“I will take care of your wounds now”, he announces before taking off his haori and katana.
Without his threatful weapon dangling from his belt, he looks like a normal man.
If it wasn’t for those captivating eyes. He has to be the most breathtaking man you’ve ever seen.
“Fortunately, the cut on your leg isn’t deep. I’ll disinfect the wound and bandage it”, he explains briefly before his skilled hands spring into action.
“You really are good at everything”, you comment.
He’s so gentle that even the alcohol that disinfects your wound doesn’t seem to burn. Why have you never stumbled across him? You were so sure that you know each and every man around that it almost drove you insane. But him? He’s different from all the others. He’s truly special.
“You will have to take your kimono off. I need access to the wound on your shoulder.”
Oh.
“Y-yeah, sure…”
Hesitantly, you pull the blood-soaked fabric down your shoulder so that only your chest is still covered. Yoriichi’s eyes seem to gleam in the moonlight like liquid metal.
“You look lovely”, he flusters into the night.
He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. Is it the alcohol rising up his nose, the smell of blood that radiates from your bruised body that makes him say those strange things?
No. It has to be because of those eyes of yours. Those eyes that captivated him from the moment he first saw them.
"Thank you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing as you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You too," you add quickly, immediately regretting your awkward response.
Both you and Yoriichi swallow hard, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing.
“I am finished. You should rest for tonight. After all, this was a draining fight for you”, he mutters while getting up.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heart still hammering so roughly against your ribcage that you’re almost sure he’s able to hear it. What was this tension?
“But…this is your futon-“
“You are my guest. Of course, I will sleep on the floor on the other side of the room.”
Oh. A wave of disappointment rushes over you before you’re able to stop it. What were you expecting, secretly hoping? That this man will share a bed with you?
Honestly, yes.
“You…you really don’t have to…”
Oh, how much Yoriichi wished he wouldn’t have to.
“I insist on taking the floor.”
“I actually want you to sleep by my side. Please.”
The begging tone in your voice stops him mid-track.
“This night was…horrible. A little company would definitely help, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all”, he replies a little too hasty.
“I just don’t want to invade your personal space. After all, I’m a stranger.”
“A really kind stranger”, you add shyly.
Are you acting out of line? You shouldn’t push him to sleep next to you when his offer to let you sleep here is already generous enough, right?
“Forget my question, I was acting out of line-“
“No, not at all. I would love sleeping besides you.”
He crosses the room in an instant and kneels down next to you.
“But let me know whenever I become too much.”
What a ridiculous thought. Why would he ever become too much? Him, your savior, that remarkable man.
You scoot over until your back is pressed against the cool wall, eyes still fixated on his gleaming eyes. Will you really be able to sleep tonight when this is the first time ever a man lies beside you?
And what a handsome one on top.
“You should try to sleep now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here”, he reassures you.
That is the least he can do after failing to protect you in the first place.
“Again, thank you for all of this. I definitely own you a favor”, you mumble.
Suddenly your lids start to get heavy, your mind slows down bit by bit. Maybe this rough night really took its toll on you. Is It the safety he radiates, his calming smell? In the matter of seconds, only your low and even breath is heard.
Finally, Yoriichi is able to allow himself a closer look at you. You look so peaceful and innocent with a face so remarkably beautiful that he can’t stop staring. You have to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. A man like him really doesn’t deserve lying next to a woman like you. Maybe he should give you space, leave you now that you fell asleep-
With a quiet groan, you draw closer to him in your sleep until your head rests on top of his chest and with your arms wrapped around his upper body.
He doesn’t dare to move an inch, eyes widen in utter surprise. Is this…cuddling? His mind races back and forth, eyes resting on your calm features. What is he supposed to do now?
Hesitantly, he allows his hand to rest on your back. What an unknown sensation, all those feelings that rise up his chest right where your hand rests.
For the first time since forever, he is the one who feels safe.   
He is the one who feels loved.
He is the one who feels warm.
And you? You cuddle yourself against him until the sun rises all over again.
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
This one's for you @muichirolover14 🤍
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“This is bullshit”, the man walking next to you mumbles under his breath.
“Keep focused. It was Kagaya-sama’s personal wish that the two of us go on this mission together”, you mumble with a fake smile decorating your bright red lips.
And that’s the only reason why you agreed in the first place. Why else would you pretend to be Sanemi Shinazugawa’s personal concubine if it wasn’t for Kagaya-sama and this undercover mission?
The plan is pretty simple. Countless people, including other demon slayers, lost their lives in this little innocent village that becomes a red-light district at night. Nobody knows why or who is responsible for this.
One of the upper moons, maybe.
It just made sense to dress you up as a concubine. After all, you are the light hashira, a mighty swordswoman and probably the most talented out of Mitsuri and Shinobu when it comes to acting.
And then there’s him. You glance at Sanemi’s annoyed face from the side. Why on earth did Kagaya-sama choose him? What about Rengoku, Giyu, Obanai, Tengen, Gyomei? Aren’t they a way better fit?
You sign to yourself.
Truth is, they aren’t. While Rengoku, Obanai, Tengen and Gyomei would stand out immediately, Giyu would never be able to sell you as his concubine. No, no one except the wind hashira is able to make this look natural.
No one but him looks this good in a dark green kimono.
What?
“Stop staring at me like that, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“I was just hoping you might disappear if I stare long enough, idiot”, you bite back in frustration.
Why does he always have to be so mean, though? You really tried to get along with him countless times, put on the most precious smile whenever you talked to him and made sure to always bring him ohagi whenever you had the chance to. But Sanemi Shinazugawa never stopped hating you. And eventually, a part of you started to dislike him as well. That one part though…
You allow your eyes a minor glimpse at his barely exposed chest. That tiny part deep within your head is somehow still drawn to him. And you hate it.
“Aren’t concubines supposed to shut up?”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll leave immediately.”
“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that.”
You let out your shaky breath, your hand crushing his while you wear the same friendly smile as before.
“Don’t mess with me, Shinazugawa”, you speak out with low voice.
His face tenses up ever so slightly, hand fighting for freedom out of your merciless grasp.
“You’ll regret talking to me like that when we’re alone, brat.”
-at the estate-
“I’d like to show you to my newest possession. Please introduce yourself”, Sanemi speaks out.
Like Amane-sama showed you, you bow in front of the man that looks you up and down with his filthy eyes.
“My name is Kiyomi”, you introduce yourself oh so sweetly.
“That name really suits you. What a beauty you are. I’m sure I’d find a lot of paying customers for you here”, the disgusting man purrs and stretches out his hand in order to touch your face.
“Don’t touch the goods”, Sanemi barks at him immediately before slapping his dirty hand away.
Who does this guy think he is, trying to touch you so casually? No. That jerk isn’t allowed to caress your face. The plain thought of men like him getting to put their hands on you…
Sanemi’s guts turn.
“Aren’t you here to sell her and yourself for the night? If that’s the case, she won’t be your good anymore for the next few hours but mine.”
He smiles at you through rotten teeth, his breath almost forcing you to choke. You are only here to detect the demon who is responsible for the countless deaths in this area. You don’t have to touch any of these men. None of them will touch you.
What about Sanemi, though? An uneasy feeling rises up your chest when your eye catches a group of women who stare him up and down with lust in their eyes. Will he allow himself a taste before continuing with this mission? Will he find a woman he is attracted to? All of them look flawless, too good to even consider the service of a paid men. But if that man looks like Sanemi…
“You will find your room to the right. This is where the female customers choose their good. After paying, you belong to them”, the man explains briefly while showing both of you around.
“Why would these women pay for the services of a man? This is a noble region that is well-inhabited by countless men”, you blurt out.
“It’s not about them being men. It’s about looks. Only the fine-looking men even get the chance to work here for the night”, he explains briefly.
Fine-looking man, huh? Well, there is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi suits that description way too good. With his firm muscles highlighted by scars from countless battles, he looks like a walking god. Let alone his perfect face, his eyes that now look soft and seducing without being irritated constantly. His white hair that frames his features perfectly.
“As for the women, we look for a broad variety of bodies, looks and personalities. You are very easy on the eye and mysterious. I’m sure countless customers will fall for that.”
“And what…what services do they expect?”
The man in front of you bursts out in hysteric laughter, you can feel Sanemi’s eyes piercing through your skull.
“What they expect? Intercourse and everything that revolves around it, of course! Do you think they pay you for some cuddles and nice words?”
You swallow hard. There is no need to do that, right? You’ll somehow shrug them off and investigate this place at night. Maybe you’ll find the demon right away and-
“Now, you are a fine-looking man. Who is this?”, a woman suddenly purrs out of the shadows.
“A new worker for the night”, the disgusting man explains with a dirty smile.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll definitely make a reservation.”
“It would be an honor, my lady”, suddenly replies in the same cheeky tone
Your guts turn in an instant, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch how a smile forms itself on Sanemi’s usual resting lips.
“What a gentleman he is. I cannot wait to meet you.”
“The honor is on my side, my lady.”
And then he steps in front of her. Elegantly, he grabs the hand she already holds out and kisses her knuckles. Your heartrate quickens, the warm flush that starts creeping up your face barely covered by your makeup.
Fucking asshole. So he’s acting like a jerk towards you all this time while treating other women like this? You hate the knot that forms itself in your throat, the disgusting feeling of disappointment that rushes over you.
Does he really hate you this much?
“Well, I think I should introduce myself to the customers as well. Have a pleasant night, Sir”, your monotone voice speaks out on its own.
With one last bow towards him, you follow the man into the women’s corridor without even gifting him a single look. Sanemi can’t help but furrow his eyebrows at your sudden reaction. Did you really want to get rid of him so badly? Maybe you’ll actually meet up with some of those guys and…
“Are you interested-“
“I will meet up with you later this evening, my lady. Please excuse me.”
Without another look or word, he storms into his assigned room and closes the door behind him.
Sanemi’s mind starts going insane. What if you actually like one of those guys? Or what if one of them hurts you, tries to force you into something you don’t want? He heard the worst stuff about places like this.
Fuck, he shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Why you? This mission is way too dangerous for someone like you, for someone this gorgeous-
“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters through gritted teeth.
“I can’t do this”, you breathe out in sheer panic while lying in bed.
No, just the thought of Sanemi having the fun of his life with that girl from earlier feels like ripping your beating heart out of your chest. Will he really share a bed with them?
If it’s for the mission, he definitely would. Nothing is greater than his urge to kill demons, especially when it comes to an upper ranked one. That little sacrifice wouldn’t stop him.
And it breaks your dumb heart.
A hard knock on the door rips you out of your running thoughts. Is this your first customer? All color drains from your face, eyes widen in horror with every bow against the wooden door.
“Just a moment”, your shaky voice shouts.
You…Do you have to look presentable? You have to think about the things you can tell him. Maybe you don’t even have to sleep with him, maybe this will distract you from the things Sanemi is probably doing right now.
You open the door.
And stare straight into the furious eyes of Sanemi Shinazugawa.
Before you’re even able to react, he pushes himself into your room and closes the door behind him before yanking you against the wall.
“What did you do?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
Your heart starts hammering roughly against your ribcage. Him? Here?
“What the hell are you doing he-“
“Answer my question right now!”, he barks into your face.
“I didn’t do anything!”, you shriek.
“What the hell has gotten into you!?”
“Has somebody touched you?”
His rough hands start running up and down your neck, yank the sleeves of your kimono upwards in a haste.
“What?”, you breathe out.
What the hell is going on? Just when you managed to pull your arm away from him, he grabs your wrist again with his face only inches away from yours.
“Did somebody touch you?”, he screams into your face.
“No!”, you cry back.
“But why would you even care? It looked like you had plenty of fun!”
He shakes his head while looking at you in utter surprise and confusion.
“What non-sense are you talking now-“
“Did you sleep with that woman from earlier when I was gone?”
God, you hate the way your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, you hate the way your eyes fill with hot tears. He came here to confront you with all those accusations while he was out there having the time of his life, while all you were able to think about is him?
“No, I didn’t sleep with anyone!”
“Stop lying to me!”
“You’re the only one I want!”, he suddenly blurts out breathlessly.
“What?”, you utter in hushed panic.
This has to be a cruel joke, an unforgiving way to stop you from doing anything. Sanemi Shinazugawa, wanting you?
“Since I first saw you with your fucking perfect face and so melodic voice, I can’t think about anything else! You, sleeping with some random guy while I’m just a few doors away. I can’t take it!”
He grabs your head with both hands, eyes staring at you so intensely that you feel like collapsing any minute. If that’s really true, if that’s really how he feels…
“But…I want you too”, you squirm.
“I always wanted you, Sanemi.”
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His lips crash against yours with so much power that you almost fall over. Suddenly his hands are all over your body, tongue unforgiving as he discovers your mouth with a passion you’ve never felt before. You allow your very own hands to finally discover the deep valleys of his muscular back, to let your hasty fingertips wander over his tight chest.
It becomes unbearable. Everything starts to become unbearable. That minor gap between your bodies, the clothes that still deny you full access to his naked skin, the feeling of not having enough.
“I need more”, you whimper against his lips, not even knowing what exactly you’re asking about.
Sanemi lifts you up with ease, not even breaking the kiss when he pushes you onto the bed with his massive body lingering on top of you.
You feel like suffocating in the most exquisite way.
“I’ll give you whatever you want”, he breathes against your lips that now find your neck.
A whimper escapes your mouth before you can stop his, body rearing up underneath him.
“S-Sanemi!”
“Fuck”, he hisses before his dark eyes meet you again in distress.
“Tell me you want this.”
“I…what?”
You can’t produce a single logical sound, head still spinning from the unknown sensation that starts building up inside your stomach. Is this what desire feels like?
“Tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.”
“I wanted you all this time”, you reply without thinking twice.
With a swift motion, you find yourself engulfed by his arms with his lips caressing yours all over again. Like in trance, you begin opening his kimono, expose his bare skin to your merciless eyes.
“You look so shamelessly good”, you whimper.
Oh, how often you pondered about how his chest feels like, if his scars are soft or as rough as his walls.
“Can I…?”
His hands grab the ends of your kimono, eyes staring down at you flustered. Is that blush creeping up his cheeks?
“It’s just…You know…I’ve never done this before…”, you stammer.
“Do I look like I did, idiot?”, he mutters while gently taking off your kimono until you lay underneath him.
Completely naked.
“I mean, yes…”
“No, I didn’t”, he barks.
“I guess I waited for someone special…”
“I did as well”, you reply in an instant.
Is this real or are you dreaming? Sanemi Shinazugawa laying on top of you fully nude. Sanemi Shinazugawa stating that he likes you. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand that start moving downwards…
Until he reaches between your legs and simply takes your breath away.
“Are you okay?”, he mutters, eyes filled with worry.
You nod absently, eyes rolling back into your skull. God, this feels like heaven. When a groan escapes his lips, you completely lose yourself. Out of instinct, you grab his neck and yank him even closer towards you, your hot breath clashing against his face.
“Sanemi!”
His name sounds like a prayer coming from your mouth, forces his fingers to move even faster. Is this good? Is he doing everything alright? Your whimpers grow louder and louder, nails digging into his now oversensitive skin with so much pressure that it threatens to burst. You look so gorgeous with your eyes pressed shut, your delicate mouth forming an “o”.
And then you burst right underneath him, scream his name over and over again with your legs shaking. He can’t wait no longer, can’t contain himself another second.
“I need you”, he mutters.
“Please, let me have you.”
“Yes”, you breathe out, mind still spinning when the firework that just exploded in your lower body slowly starts wearing off.
Until you feel him all over again. But this time, not his fingers. Your glossy eyes widen in utter surprise when he carefully stretches you out and disappears inside of you, hands holding onto him for dear life.
“Are you okay?”, he whimpers.
“Please…give me…more…”
He almost loses his mind, the new sensation almost eating him up alive. Countless nights, he dreamed about what it might be like to have you, what it would feel like. But the reality is so much better than any dream.
Sanemi picks up his pace and grabs your waist passionately in order to keep you in place. Over and over, again and again your sticky skin collides with his until he threatens to burst.
“You’re mine”, he presses out through gritted teeth while pounding into you.
“I’m all yours, Sanemi!”, you cry out, nails now leaving marks on his skin.
“I need…ah! I need you! Please!”
He knows exactly what you’re asking for. One last time, he picks up the pace while holding onto you for dear life.
Until finally, you scream his name. Finally, he’s able to let it all go.
“(y/n)!”
He collapses on top of you, his weight leaving you dizzy and unable to move. None of you dares to make a move, the only thing that’s filling the room being your shaky and sharp breaths.
“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally mutters, his hand caressing your cheek oh so gently.
“I love you too-“
“Mission report, mission report! Kagaya-sama requires a mission re- AH!”
“Get out of here right now!”, Sanemi barks at the crow that casually entered the room.
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?”
“Get out!”, Sanemi screams on top of his lungs before yanking up and hunting the crow butt-naked through the room
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
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pholla-jm · 6 months
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My Wife is Real
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IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 
Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 
It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 
Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 
“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 
Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 
Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 
Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 
Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 
Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 
Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 
Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 
Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 
“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 
Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 
“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 
“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 
Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 
Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 
“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 
Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 
He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 
You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 
Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 
“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 
You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 
“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 
“Hello.” 
“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 
“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 
“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 
“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 
You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 
“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 
“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 
You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 
Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 
“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 
You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 
Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.
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evilminji · 6 months
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Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?
They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?
And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?
Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.
Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.
He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.
But it's not.
His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".
......guys?
His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.
*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*
Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.
And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?
Are DIFFERENT.
They're all of um!
It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.
There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!
No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!
Sad. We miss it.
But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?
Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!
Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?
Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*
Clearly a demon!
He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.
Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.
Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)
Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.
People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.
Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!
Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.
So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.
Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.
He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.
Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes
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asumi2020202 · 20 days
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Only if you're the mother ey?
Pairing: Kinich x Reader
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Summary: You and your lover were on a walk. Upon returning home, a little someone follows.
A/n: Natlan is out people. I suddenly got the idea to write this. Thank you for reading!
Note: Kinich - • , Ajaw - •
___________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ______
"Well she's lucky the injury wasn't grave. Otherwise her sister would've swallowed her whole."
"Chasca can sometimes be pretty reckless."
"Hmm. What did you and Ajaw do today?"
"Nothing much for me. Just helped around the village. He bothered as usual."
You and Kinich walked around some more, Ajaw complaining about Kinich ignoring him.
The three of you didn't know when it has gotten so late. Upon realisation, the three of you made your way back to your shared home.
_________________________________________
Kinich was finding the key to open the door of your and Kinich's house, when you felt a little paw on your shin muscles and heard a soft mewl.
You turned around to see a little baby yumkasaur. It had a sad expression on its face, probably because it went unnoticed by you both all the way here.
You crouched down and the little one went between your legs and snuggled to you, his expression changing in an instant.
By this time Kinich had opened the door and turned around, only to find your back facing him and you crouching down.
When he came to you, thinking you were hurt or sick, he saw you look up at him with a baby yumkasaur coddled up on your chest.
"I think he followed us all the way here." You spoke, turning your gaze back at the yumkasaur and gently soothing its back.
"That is unusual for a yumkasaur. Unless..." Kinich spoke the last word with suspense.
"Unless what?" You asked, looking at his face.
"Unless he thinks of you as his mother, which in this case, fits perfectly." Kinich spoke, letting out a small laugh at your surprised expression.
Your turned you gaze back at the yumkasaur and stood up with him, still in your hands, coddled up.
"Well.. I guess you're the father then?" You spoke and smirked at him.
"Only if you're the mother." Kinich replied and kissed your cheek while getting you all inside the house.
You settled on the couch with the little one, a blanket draped over you both.
You fell asleep soon enough. The little yumkasaur was staring at Kinich, who was sitting on the same couch, and occasionally let out some noises to him.
"You've got some rizz! Haha!" Ajaw spoke as Kinich asked him to quite down. But the Almighty Dragonlord went on and on.
"Only if you're the mother ey?"
-Lillian
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emberwhite · 8 months
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 23: Regrets
Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 9,940
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst
A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. 
They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.
You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation. 
You are. 
“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.” 
You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”
Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.” 
Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you. 
“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes. 
You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.
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It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now. 
The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away. 
“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.” 
He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him. 
He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away. 
He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job. 
It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you. 
“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him. 
“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.” 
“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta. 
“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.
“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back. 
“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.” 
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The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready. 
John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?” 
There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.
“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not. 
It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours. 
There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.  Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it. 
They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now. 
He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way. 
All because Simon is gone. 
How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them. 
How silly that idea had been. 
It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack? 
Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills. 
John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision. 
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John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. 
“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.” 
“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. 
“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.” 
“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling. 
“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?” 
“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. . 
“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously. 
“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again. 
Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you. 
“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.” 
“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly. 
“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.” 
Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him. 
“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful. 
He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection. 
“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. 
He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega. 
He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited. 
What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that. 
“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”
“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated. 
“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.” 
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 
“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.” 
You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.” 
“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself. 
“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.” 
“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave. 
He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”
A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”
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You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon? 
Or is he coming back already? 
You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open. 
Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him. 
“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you. 
“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. 
“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.” 
It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source. 
You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop. 
“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...” 
He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job. 
Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own. 
Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed. 
You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably. 
Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while. 
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It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly. 
They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room. 
He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent. 
“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you. 
You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold. 
It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out. 
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A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else. 
You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something. 
You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual. 
They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything. 
Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t. 
You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care. 
You just want Simon back. 
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“I’m worried.” 
“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.” 
He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents. 
“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”
He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity. 
“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear. 
“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.” 
John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are. 
“How do we teach her?” He asks. 
“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.” 
“Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together. 
“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.” 
He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.” 
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He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either. 
Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack. 
He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now. 
Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was. 
He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack. 
He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha. 
He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you. 
He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp. 
“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands. 
“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it. 
He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear. 
“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension. 
“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear. 
He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.” 
You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way. 
Things have changed. 
“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.” 
“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly. 
“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?” 
“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.” 
He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives. 
“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind. 
He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again. 
There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence. 
“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 
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John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at. 
His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?” 
It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying. 
“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again. 
Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint. 
“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”
You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again. 
There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.” 
You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out. 
“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles. 
“When will you be back?” You ask. 
“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says. 
“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid. 
“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.” 
“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John. 
He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back. 
A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head. 
“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile. 
“He's never called me that before.” You say. 
“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says. 
You sure hope so. 
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It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left. 
You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders. 
You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back. 
He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with. 
You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body. 
You're not prepared for what he does next. 
One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips. 
You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. 
It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real. 
He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you. 
The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.  
He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks. 
“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember. 
Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left. 
“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly. 
“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it. 
“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.
“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back. 
“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear. 
You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream. 
He's really back. 
You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special. 
Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others. 
“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm. 
“Hurry back?” You stare up at him. 
“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 
You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart. 
You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like. 
Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb. 
Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head. 
You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then. 
Always the job first. 
Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming. 
“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.
“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.” 
You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 
“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall. 
“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest. 
He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?” 
“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make. 
Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”
You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”
Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”
“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.” 
Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”
You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room. 
Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass. 
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Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time. 
Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject? 
“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?” 
“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”
“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”
You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to. 
Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier. 
You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face? 
You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn? 
It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again. 
You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway. 
You’ll have to make the first move. 
Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway. 
One step at a time. One step at a time. 
You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it. 
The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely. 
You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone. 
“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you. 
“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment. 
You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real. 
You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired. 
“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs. 
“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven. 
“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face. 
You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.” 
He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”
Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions? 
You might never know, just another secret hidden between you. 
A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try. 
Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to. 
“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation. 
He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it. 
You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.” 
He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before. 
He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him. 
There’s no going back. 
Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while. 
You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge. 
How silly that thought had been. 
His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space. 
He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”
NEXT ->
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neverendingford · 1 year
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#I had a dream that the ladder of scars up my side un-faded and was visible again#unfortunately it was just a dream#they get visible when the temperature is just right and my skin coloration shifts a little bit with blood flow#but frankly quite sad that something that took so much work and hurt like hell didn't turn out how I wanted#I don't remember if it's 13 or 23 rungs. but either way.. over the ribs hurt like hell#maybe one day if I really really really feel like it I'll redo them. probably not. but who knows#it'll be midnight and the mood will hit me or something. you know how it is.#probably not though. I've grown enough that I'll just go eat some food and make a very messy painting instead#one of these days I should paint over my whole body. that would be cool#a big time investment and a lot of cleanup work but it would be fun#I've always had the idea to do some sort of art project where I paint/highlight my scars on some thematically appropriate day#if I ever do get any tattoos it's 100% gonna be visually collaborative with my scarring. that would be neat#it's not my fault scars and body injury have been a massive part of my identity since I was two years old#that's what you get for making a huge part of your monthly newsletter “the burned child is recovering well. here's several pictures of him”#that's what you get for making it into a story every time you meet old friends.#what you get for making me take off my shirt to show off “wow it's healed so well!” like I'm an attraction or experiment#anyway I should go back and write more stuff for my self insert oc who made me realize all this shit#because damn turns out I relate to the “child influencer has no privacy and grows up feeling like a spectacle” thing a little too hard#tag talk
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rinsoap · 2 months
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best friend! suna who makes you new playlists all the time. the names are inside jokes with you, little things he whispers in your ear late at night. the description always says, "for y/n". sometimes it has a little message explaining why he made it alongside the dedication, but he never fails to remind you, it was made for you and only you.
"for y/n. songs that remind me that time at the park." "for y/n. just songs that reminded me of your face. "for y/n. songs for when you're sad. hope it cheers you up."
best friend! suna who always know when something is off with you. he can tell from just the shaky delivery of a sentence or the small tremble of your lip, he knows. he hates seeing you like this, he'll do anything to see your pretty smile. words aren't his thing, he'd rather listen to you for hours, even if you're just venting the whole time. anything to make you feel a little better.
"what was that?" "what was what?" "you know. you did a weird nervous laugh when you said that." "stop that's just how i laugh don't make fun of me" "no you laugh completely different don't lie. come on, tell me what's wrong. i'm here, i got you."
best friend! suna who's favourite thing is your movie nights. your legs draped over his thighs with his arm around your shoulder. you glance over at him, and he's already staring, glow of the tv flickering on his face as he studies your face back. his eyes keep dropping to your lips, so when you give him a smile and a slight quirk of your eyebrow, he cocks his head before turning back to the movie. the next morning, you wake up on his couch and in his arms.
"what are you staring at, huh?" "what? nothing. just... it's nothing. i, um, i like how you did your makeup today. looks nice." "oh, i did it differently today! thank you!!! how'd you even notice that? it's so dark!" "just got sharp vision, i don't know damn. now pay attention to the movie. don't even know what's going on." "you're the one who was staring at me???"
best friend! suna who playfully calls you princess whenever he does you a favour. despite his frequent complaints, he secretly loves treating you like a princess. he knows you deserve it. so when you ask him to pick you up from a party you don't want to be at, he grabs his keys as soon as soon he sees the text, like he always does, no matter how late it is. he'll tease you, telling you he's not coming as he's starting the car. he just likes toying with you. when he picks you up, you slide into the passenger's seat with a sigh, expressing how hungry you are and begging him to take you to the nearest drive thru. he protests, but he drives you to a burger king trying to suppress a smile.
"really now? what am i? a personal butler?" "i was thinking more like righthand man. like smee from peter pan." "i'm definitely the captain hook out of the two of us but okay whatever. are burger kings even open this late?" "well can't we see? pleeeeease rinnie i'm so hungry i'll eat a whole cow" "fine okay, whatever you want princess. just to save the hypothetical cow though."
best friend! suna who doesn't drive you home quite yet. he pulls into a spot by the beach, a cliff overlooking the water sparkling under the moonlight. a playlist of love songs he made you plays as background to your conversation as he looks out on the view while you aid the song in filling his silence. you're hardly eating the burger he bought for you, so caught up in speaking. he looks to you, leaning in to listen more intently and you instinctively match him and close the distance between you. he nods in agreement to a long rant you've been going on about, stumbling over your words when you realize how close he is.
"you're giving me that look." "what look?" "i don't know. the one from the other night. when we were watching howl's moving castle." "oh. right." "does my makeup looks good again?" "yeah, i mean... it always look good, you know. you always look good." "oh, well, thank you rin you're sweet" "only to you, princess."
best friend! suna who hooks his finger under your chin to lift your head to his, bringing you into a gentle kiss. his other hand finds yours resting on the centre compartment to carress your skin with his thumb. when you pull apart, both of you don't say anything. you smile at each other, forehead to forehead, and there is a silent agreement that words could never be enough.
ᵎᵎᵎ ִֶ ࣪ ⊹ ֶָ ، 𓂅 the song playing in the car: infrunami by steve lacy
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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 3 months
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The Dragon and the Dragon-less
Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader
Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)
Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha
AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!
PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!
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It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–
In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 
“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 
Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 
Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.
“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 
“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 
With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 
You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 
“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.
“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 
“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”
With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.
“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 
“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”
“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 
“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 
“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 
— — — — — — —
The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.
Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–
Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.
“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 
Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 
The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 
“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.
“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 
“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 
The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 
— — — — — — —
The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 
“And she is a–”
“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 
“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 
“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 
As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 
“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 
“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 
“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.
A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 
You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 
— — — — — — —
You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 
The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 
“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.
“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”
“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.
“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 
“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 
Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 
The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 
Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…
“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 
Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…
Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 
Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 
“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 
“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 
Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 
Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.
He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.
Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 
“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 
“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.
“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 
“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.
“My apologies, I should not have–” 
“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 
“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 
His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 
Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 
“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 
“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 
“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.
“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.
“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.
“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.
“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 
“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 
“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.
“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 
“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.
“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 
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