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buckets-and-trees · 3 months ago

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Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#ari levinson #chris evans characters #curtis everett smut #curtis everett #ari levinson smut #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #female reader #tw: dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #happy birthday siri 2024 #aspen wrote something #obsidian stain and sin

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loganhowlettshousewife · 1 month ago

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animal

chapter 1

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: non-sexual nudity, swearing, some sexual-ish thoughts

series masterlist │my masterlist

you had been baking a pie, rolling out the homemade dough for the crust, humming along with the soft music playing through the house, when through the open window you’d seen him. a large man, as naked as the day he was born, running towards your farm. you could only watch in numb shock as he went into your barn, now hidden from view.

what the fuck.

you haven’t been inside that barn in over a year. the farm belonged to your grandparents, and you’d inherited the property after they died. while you love the peace and quiet that came from living in the middle of nowhere, you aren’t a farm girl, so the barn went largely unused.

you think about just leaving the man alone, hoping that he’ll leave eventually.

you keep rolling out the dough, soothing repetitive motions, while you stare at the barn, expecting something else to happen. but nothing does. you almost think you made the man up in a moment of insanity.

it’s this that gets you to finally exit the house, anxiously heading towards the old barn with its creaking wood and chipped paint. you take a deep breath to prepare yourself before stepping inside, every nerve in your body screaming at you that this is a very bad idea.

you’re both relieved and not when you see the man curled up in a corner. relieved, because you weren’t going insane, and not because, well, now you’re going to have to deal with this strange situation.

you take a step closer when he doesn’t lunge at you to attack, then immediately jump back at the gleaming metal claws that appear from between his knuckles. one second he seems mostly harmless - or at least as harmless as a buff, six foot tall man could be - and the next he’s growling at you, face twisted into a snarl, body tense and ready to pounce at the slightest wrong move.

“hi,” you say, softly, the way you were taught to speak to distressed animals. the man cocks his head to the side but doesn’t lunge at you, which you take as a good sign. “i won’t hurt you, promise. but i am curious to know what led you here.”

by here, you mean both the physical location of your house in the middle of nowhere but also whatever reason he has for running through said middle of nowhere naked. there’s some kind of story there, likely not a good one judging by the way he watches you distrustfully. you have a feeling he hasn’t had a good or easy life.

the man doesn’t answer, not that you really expected him to, but slowly his claws retreat back into his skin. he’s marginally less threatening like this, though you know the smallest thing could bring the sharp blades back out.

despite this, you don’t believe he’s a danger to you. he just seems scared and confused.

“are you hungry?” you ask him. again, he doesn’t answer, and you wonder if he’s able to speak. “okay, how about this, i’ll bring you food and you don’t have to eat it but you can. i’ll be right back.”

you don’t turn your back on the barn, on him, as you jog back into your house. it’s much warmer inside than it is in the barn - you were so distracted that you hadn’t been feeling the full effect of the early winter cold. you think of the man, he must be freezing, but you hadn’t seen any sign of it, no shivering, not even goosebumps raising on his skin.

one thing at a time, you tell yourself.

your half-finished pie is sitting discarded on the kitchen counter and you look at it mournfully. you’ll finish it later, and maybe you’ll actually have someone to enjoy it with you.

(it gets lonely sometimes, so far from any cities or towns. usually, you don’t mind it, but apparently there’s some small part of you that still desperately craves human contact and interaction, since you’re jumping at the chance to take care of a random stranger.)

you have leftovers in the fridge that you suppose will have to do, since making him a fresh, home-cooked meal would take time, and you’d promised to return hastily. you heat it up quickly, the warmth emanating from the food another reminder of the frigid temperature outside as you bring the plate into the barn.

he looks up when you enter, sniffing the air like a dog. it’s cute, and you smile as you put the plate down, careful not to get too close to him, letting him make the first move.

whether he trusts you or he’s just starving you don’t know, but he rushes to your side and starts eating like he hasn’t had food in a month. with him distracted and closer to you, you can get a better look at him.

he doesn’t look malnourished. he’s buff, muscular and hairy, and you have to stop your eyes from going lower as you stare at his chest.

you look away despite the man being too distracted to notice your shameless ogling. he might be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life - or you’ve just been away from men for too long and have become pathetic.

he eats quickly, and looks up expectantly at you when he finishes, like a dog at their owner. you giggle at the comparison you’ve made in your head - it’s quite accurate, you find, with the way he immediately seems to trust you now that you’ve fed him.

“do you wanna go inside? it’s pretty cold out here, and inside i have more food.” you say, and when you go to stand up so does he. you explicitly do not look down.

he follows you into your house, and you’re so glad you live alone so there’s no one to question whatever is happening.

it’s easy to find extra clothes in the guest room, less easy to find any that you think will fit him. eventually, you give up, hoping the sweatpants you found will do for now, and grab one of your own shirts, thankful for your habit of buying oversized men’s t-shirts. it goes down to your thighs, surely it’ll fit him.

you turn to head back into the living room where you left him, and your soul nearly leaves your body when you spot him standing at the door. you yelp, your hand flying to your chest and the clothes falling to the ground.

he startles at the noise, tensing and looking around like he expects danger.

“shit,” you swear, “how are you so quiet?”

he frowns, and you could swear that he seems apologetic, though you aren’t sure how accurate your interpretations of his facial expressions are given that you’ve only known him for about an hour. it makes you feel a little guilty, though really you shouldn’t be since he snuck up on you.

you’re about to offer him the clothes when you pause, gaze locked on his chest. “you should shower.”

he follows you when you lead him to the bathroom, which you take as agreement on his part. he’s dirty, covered everywhere by a thin layer of dirt. a shower will feel good. it would also give you time to process this without him watching you. his eyes are quite intense, and he keeps them directed at you. you need the privacy to freak out.

it’s only after you place the clothes down on the countertop and show him how the knobs in your shower work that you realise he’s not making any moves to enter the shower. you start to leave the bathroom and he takes a step to follow you.

you stop, thinking about how he doesn’t seem to know how to speak, how he looked so scared and confused when you’d found him, and you sigh when you realise it’s likely he doesn’t know how to use a shower either.

what is your story? you think to yourself.

“do you want help?” is what you ask instead.

he nods slowly, which is the closest you’ve gotten to a response from him so far. you look up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply and bracing yourself when you realise this means you’re going to have to touch the hot, naked man.

you turn on the shower, waiting for it to warm up before you motion for the man to get in. you are absolutely not willing to get naked in the shower with a stranger whose name you don’t even know, so you step in fully clothed, already regretting it when you feel the fabric growing wet and sticking to your skin.

it’s as you’re helping rinse the dirt off him that you spot the writing on his dog tags. you’d noticed them previously but hadn’t been able to get a good look.

you take the metal chain in your hand, turning it to read the name stamped into the metal.

“logan,” you read, and the man in front of you purrs, a low rumble in his throat. you smile. “i’m going to guess that’s your name. logan.”

this seems to relax the last dredges of tension that he holds. he practically melts into you, and the feeling of being trusted so fully by someone who seems so broken warms your heart in a way that you haven’t felt in years.

you finish washing him up in silence, only interrupted by occasional soft purrs and hums from logan. he quite enjoys it when you wash his hair, hands reaching up to scrub shampoo into the strands, nails scratching at his scalp. you switch your earlier comparison from a dog to a cat, the purring reminding you of the kitten you had growing up.

he shakes his head when he gets out of the shower, water flying everywhere, and you laugh as you hand him a towel. you once again have to help him when he just stares at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

he gets dressed on his own, thankfully, since you already feel like you might implode from being in such close quarters with an extremely attractive, wet, nude man for so long.

you leave him for a minute to dry yourself off and change into dry clothes. it’s nice to have a moment of reprieve, where you can simply breathe and process and question what the fuck you just got yourself into. you finally allow yourself to freak out a tiny bit, muttering to yourself in the mirror, tugging at your hair.

you just manage to pull a shirt over your head when you hear quiet whimpering at the door and the sound of loud banging against it.

your heart breaks at the sound, reminded of the wounded animals your grandparents would nurse back to health, and you rush to pull some pants on so you can open the door. logan looks at you with the most devastated eyes and then falls into you, face nudging into your neck, inhaling deeply. you stumble back, thankful for the wall that catches you. he’s heavier than he looks, which is saying something, given his size.

you’re shocked for a moment, frozen, but quickly come back to yourself and place your hands on his firm back.

“i’m sorry,” you say, “i didn’t mean to scare you. i wasn’t going to leave you, i just needed privacy for a moment.”

you don’t know if he understands anything you’re saying but it makes you feel better to explain yourself. you’re shocked that this is the same man who was snarling at you, claws out and ready to rip your throat out not so long ago, shocked at how quickly he’s grown attached to you.

shocked at how quickly you’ve grown attached to him, too. then again, you’ve always been this way. you like to help people, and logan seems like a man who needs a lot of help.

“i was baking a pie, when i saw you,” you tell him, “how about we go finish that? you don’t have to leave my side. you can watch me and i’ll teach you all my secrets.”

and as you expected, he follows you into the kitchen, trailing after you like a lost puppy. normally, you hate having anyone else in the kitchen with you, getting in your way when you’re in the zone, but his presence is nice. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t distract you or get in your way, just stands and watches you intently.

you’re already used to having him here with you, comfortable enough to turn your back to him. it’s crazy, and a (big) part of you knows that this isn’t exactly a smart thing to do, but you’re already planning on letting him stay for as long as he needs, maybe even forever.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams

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nightmareweaverz · 5 days ago

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What is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader) Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

CW: Mild gore/injury, a bit of violence but nothing extreme

Word count: 2536

Since people enjoyed it and I had some ideas, I decided to continue this! We meet someone new in this chapter. Keep in mind it's not gonna turn into a love triangle, tho. The new character serves a different purpose. Enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Another book falls shut with a loud thump next to the armchair that's held you for the past two days. A large stack rests beside it. You've been leafing through many of them lately, especially romance books. Not all of them fit your taste, some you would even call boring. Reading wasn't a hobby of yours when you were in the human world, but here, you've found this more enjoyable than walking around with no real purpose. Even the boring ones become less boring eventually. It’s nice to pretend you are a character in a story, with a different life, one that has purpose. Unlike your current reality.

Until you run out of books. Then you have to go out searching for more. This is one of those times. You've read everything from your last find. It was mostly magazines and newspapers, save for one or two novels, some of them half shredded. But their job is done now.

Crowbar in hand and hood drawn over your head, you detach yourself from the armchair and set out on your little mission. Your previous haul is left behind. There is no point in trying to keep any of the things you've finished reading. They'd only slow you down in this ever shifting maze.

The hallways are as creepy and hard to navigate as usual. A locked door here, imminent danger there, some horrific friendly residents and other equally horrific non friendly residents. The usual.

While you're peering inside a vent in an attempt to see if you can use it to get past a wall, Mr. Gap pays you a visit.

“Hello,” he greets you.

“Hello. Can take other room?” You point at the wall.

“Can take.”

“Danger there?”

“No danger. Lots of object.”

That's exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“You take me?”

“Take, take.”

He grabs your arm. Your vision goes black for a moment, as it always does when Mr. Gap moves you from one place to another. Everything goes quiet and you briefly feel a chill envelop you. Then you're in a new place, the room he promised to take you to.

“Thank you.”

Lately, he's been doing a mix of asking for body parts and doing things without wanting anything in return. Whether he’s trying to be nicer or he plans on asking for something later, is unknown to you. The occasionally friendly company is still appreciated.

You turn to the piles of random objects fallen from the human world. A far larger pile than usual. With a little bit of luck, it won’t all be full of worthless junk. You get to sorting through them before an earthquake can do it all in.

“What you search?” Mr. Gap's face peeks out from beneath a toppled over armchair.

“Lots of paper.”

Old dirty clothes, a couple abandoned toys, a lamp, a bike wheel, they all get thrown around in your search. You let out a triumphant “Yes!” when you stumble upon a copy of Frankenstein. It's not romance, but it'll keep you busy nonetheless. You shove it beneath your underarm before resuming the search.

“You like paper? Me like paper,” Mr. Gap comments as he reappears in another nook between two wooden planks.

“Okay,” you say dismissively. Normally, you'd humor him, but this world is unpredictable and you want fuel for your newly acquired pastime before it decide to bury everything beneath a pile of rubble.

You turn over a seat pillow and his face suddenly pops up in the space beneath. He holds out a magazine.

“Oh, thank-”

“Me want your finger.”

This slimy gremlin. You flash him your middle finger, only for a moment, before he can misunderstand and rip it off. The gesture confuses him, but the following grumbles must mean it didn't fly over his head entirely.

“Stop take my paper. Me not give,” you warn that you won't exchange any body parts for magazines he finds before you do.

But he knows this by now. It must simply delight him to see the furrow in your brow and hear you huff in irritation. You return to your task, refusing to grant him anymore satisfaction.

One pile of random objects later, he pops up again, this time with another book. This one is small, made of thick cardboard. The brightly colored cover suggests that it's for children.

“Me give, you teach me,” he says this time.

“Teach what?” He better not be about to ask you to sing itsy bitsy spider.

Mr. Gap opens up the book on a page where a cartoon little boy is offering a flower to a little girl. “What this?”

Where did he find that? Has he been trying to learn more about love? Is that why he's curious about such a gesture? The idea makes you find him kind of cute if it's true. Have you both just been reading romance related material, fumbling like idiots to figure out how it works?

As for explaining it, first, you point at the flower and say the word for it in English, since you're not sure there's a term for it here.

“This flower. Human give flower to person they like. Flower nice, pretty.”

Mr. Gap attempts to speak the new word. “Flower?” He stares at the illustration for another moment, then smiles creepily, the way he always does. “Thank you.”

In exchange, he gives you the magazine he'd tempted you with earlier. It’s a paranormal one. Knowing him, he’s already read through it. Read… Can Mr. Gap read? He doesn’t understand your language when you speak it, but he seems particularly fond of magazines. Is it all for the pictures? Maybe you’ll ask him next time.

You tuck the magazine next to the book and continue through the pile.

Once your left arm is satisfyingly full, you leave the room, now in search of a safe place to sit and read.

The sound of footsteps suddenly approaching nails you to the spot for a moment. Your hand instinctively grips the crowbar tighter, preparing for the worst. Whatever is coming, it better not force you to drop your books and flee. Because then you will be pissed. And you tend to lose control when you are pissed.

Fortunately, what walks in does not prove to be threatening. In fact, it's not even a resident. A young man with messy red hair cautiously steps in, then immediately freezes when he spots you. The sight of him nearly knocks all the air out of you. There is another human in the Other World. A living, breathing human, something you thought you'd never see again.

You are aware of how frightening you look. The bloodied raincoat, the silver hair, the bandages on your face and your blotchy, dark reddish skin. You often turn away quickly when faced with smooth metal, glass and, god forbid, mirrors. It's hard to believe the image you see is you. So his fear of you comes as no surprise. It serves as a grim reminder of what you've become.

“Hello.” When you speak, you use your native language.

“You speak English?!” the young man sounds startled and relieved at the same time.

“Yes… What are you doing here?”

Speaking complex sentences feels far better than you expected. It brings you a type of joy and nostalgia that startles you. Had you been missing it that much?

“I… I don't remember how I got here. Or what I was doing before. I'm just looking for the exit. Can you help me?”

This sounds painfully familiar. You remember when that used to be you. When you still had hope. And that memory tugs at something in your chest and urges you to make sure this man finds that exit. Before it's too late.

“I can help. What's your name?”

Such a human question to ask. The idea of using someone's proper name also makes you happy. When exactly have you become the type of person excited about complex sentences and names?

“I'm Robin. And you?”

You give him your name and he nods uneasily. Perhaps he hasn't been here long enough to be unphased by residents. That's good. It means there's still time.

“Mr. Gap?” you call out as you turn to the nearest crevice you can find. He appears as he always does. “Can take person exit?”

He glances at the human behind you, who is now observing warily. Then he shoots you that annoying grin of his. “Me want your heart.”

“Uh! Not give heart! Lead exit!”

“Not give? Goodbye.” And then he disappears.

You feel a strong urge to smack that grin right off his face. But he's gone and it seems like it's up to you to help this man find his way out.

“What did you talk about?” the man in question asks.

“I thought he'd help, but I overestimated his kindness… Come on, we need to find an elevator. It will take you out of here.”

“Alright… Um, thank you!”

His thanks is met with a dismissive little wave from you. Begrudgingly, the books have to be left here. The chances of finding them again are very slim, but you'll be less efficient with one arm entirely full.

The two of you set out to search for the exit.

The first rooms you pass through are an empty blessing. Robin isn't very talkative. Despite his wide shoulders and tall build, he appears quite timid and frightened. Every time you enter a new room, he first pokes his head in cautiously, then he dares to advance once he knows the coast is clear.

Is this how you used to be? Frightfully wandering the Other World, aided by Mr. Crawling, scared of your own shadow? It's a stark contrast to the apathetic stride you've developed since your return.

“How long have you been down here?” Robin asks after a prolonged silence.

“A while. It's hard to keep track of time here.”

“Is there… no way to turn you back?”

“I had a friend who was searching for a cure. But we got separated…”

You don't want to think about Mr. Silvair or the rest right now. You'd rather just focus on the task of finding the elevator.

“Is your friend like the guy in the hole?”

“Uh, no! That guy is an annoying little jerk who only does as he pleases.” Your face twists in annoyance just thinking about Mr. Gap. He could've effortlessly helped out, but he chose to be a pain instead.

“Oh, sorry.”

The hallway ends with two identical doors. Doors. They're so annoying in this world. Immediate death, sudden threat or a boring room could be waiting behind one and usually there's no way to tell them apart unless you open it.

“Stay back,” you instruct the human as you cautiously turn the doorknob.

Through the crack you've opened, you see a large, mostly empty room apart from a shelf with various toys on it. There are no signs of enemies for now.

“Okay, we can go.”

You step inside, you first and Robin cowering behind you. Everything seems fine as you head towards the doorless exit on the other side of the room. Until the door suddenly shuts and locks behind you.

“Who did that?!” Robin exclaims, startled.

You clutch your crowbar tighter, eyes darting around the room. One of the stuffed animals on the shelf suddenly lunges at you. However, you've spent long enough down here to parry such an attack easily. Swiftly, you swing your crowbar and knock it against the wall. Something shatters inside it. It stops moving.

But you have no time to relax. Robin lets out a startled scream. When you turn his way, several other toys are trying to climb him. One of them has sharp teeth and is biting into his arm.

“Get off him, you pests!” you yell out as you knock them off one by one, always followed by that shattering sound.

When he's freed, Robin quickly backs into a corner, cradling his bleeding arm. He's hurt. That's not good. He hasn't begun to transform at all. So his healing is that of a normal person.

“How deep is it? Let me see.”

“What were those things?! They- they bit me!” He’s panicking.

“Robin, you have to calm down and let me see your injury. It's gonna be okay. I'll get you out. But I need to see your arm first.” You try to be gentle. At least that's not something you've forgotten how to do yet.

He stares with wide eyes full of terror at first. But with each new reassurance, his breathing slowly relaxes and his trembling seizes. He offers you the arm. Gently, you roll up the torn sleeve of his shirt. Nine deep little cuts in a semicircle ooze blood on his forearm. It's not fatal, but leaving it untreated would be unwise.

You quickly glance around the room until you spot the dark void beneath the bottom of the shelf. You hurry to it at once.

“Mr. Gap! We need medicine! Person hurt. Blood,” you announce in the other language.

Mr. Gap does appear. He throws one look Robin's way, then grins at you. “Medicine? Can bring. Me want their finger.”

“Oh, for the love of- Give you my finger!” you try to bargain, not in the mood to explain that giving him a human's finger would defeat the purpose of asking for medicine.

Mr. Gap looks almost offended. Perhaps because you usually never say yes to his demands when he asks for your body parts. “Why?”

“Need medicine! Hurt! If outsider give finger, lots of hurt!” you explain, exasperated.

His face twists in displeasure. When he looks at Robin again, his eyes narrow, like he suddenly can't stand him. “Me not want your finger. Me want their finger.”

“Uh! You slimy little sewer rat!” you insult him, fully aware he hasn't a clue what you're saying, but probably able to tell from your tone it isn't nice. Then you turn away indignantly.

“Did your friend not want to help?” Robin asks timidly when you return to him.

“He thinks everything needs to be a transaction. It's fine, we'll manage without him.”

You lift up a part of your raincoat and rip off a piece of the white garment beneath it. Robin holds out his arm once again and allows you to bandage it.

“Why are you going to such lengths to help me?” he murmurs.

Why? You ask yourself that in turn. Perhaps because you didn't make it out. Perhaps you don't want another person to step outside and feel like a shark in the middle of a city, scary yet powerless and out of place.

“I just want somebody else to make it home after I couldn't.”

“I'm sorry…”

“It's fine. I don't need you to pity me. Just try to stay alive. Come on, let's go.”

You tilt your head towards the doorless opening. Begrudgingly, Robin pushes himself away from the corner and follows you out.

You both fail to notice the small roll of bandages that rolls out from beneath the shelf just as you pass it.

#homicipher #mr gap #fanfiction #homicipher x reader #mr gap x reader #reader insert #gn reader

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sunny44 · 7 months ago

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Stubborn

Paring: Carlos Sainz x Leclerc!reader

Warnings: mentions of surgery, appendix removed, sickness and maybe other things

Summary: Carlos insists on going to the race even after just having surgery.

This story is the second part of Secret Love, but if you haven't read the first part you'll understand this chapter here without any problem. But I would recommend you read it.

Today was race day and we were getting ready to leave the hospital. Since the surgery went well, they discharged Carlos.

“Honey, I’ve finished packing your things. Can we go to the hotel and…” At that moment, he emerged from the bathroom wearing the Ferrari shirt. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“We’re heading to the Paddock,” he said. I looked at him in disbelief.

“Of course not, are you crazy? You just had surgery and you already want to go back there?”

“Honey, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You have stitches in your stomach and you already want to go there? You’re not even going to race.”

“Babe.”

“No, listen, if you want to go, fine.” I angrily threw the rest of his things into the backpack. “But I’m not going with you.”

“Y/n.”

“No, I went through hell yesterday fearing something might happen to you, only for you to tell me you want to go there to watch the race.” I zipped up the backpack. “I hate this, you and Charles are just the same.”

“What does your brother have to do with this?”

“That you both have this reckless tendency to put your lives at risk for stupid things.” I tried to control myself from crying. “I won’t have another one in my life who makes me go through this.”

Before he could say anything, his father entered the room, and I stormed out, heading back to the hotel.

It’s things like this that makes me angry. I already have two brothers who are always putting themselves in danger and often doing unnecessary things. I never used to be so afraid of these things until Jules’ death. It was a dark moment in our lives, and knowing that he died in a way that my two brothers and now my boyfriend could also die leaves me extremely worried and on the verge of having a panic attack.

So the fact that he wants to go to the paddock to watch the race after surgery makes me furious.

When I got to the hotel, I went straight to take a shower, dried my hair, and put on pajamas since I would be here the rest of the day. I ordered room service and turned on the TV to watch the race, and immediately saw Carlos entering the paddock. He was walking slowly because of the surgery, and I just shook my head and settled back into bed.

Midway through the race, I was packing my bags since I would be catching a flight to Monaco early tomorrow morning when the door suddenly opened scaring me and Carlos walked into the room.

“Hey,” he said, closing the door.

“Hey.” I finished packing my suitcase and placed it on the floor.

“Leaving?”

“We have a flight to Monaco tomorrow morning, so…”

“Are you staying at my place or…”

“I’m staying at my mom’s.”

“I thought you were staying with me.”

“That was before this morning.”

“Y/n…”

“I’m not trying to control you or tell you what to do, but you were extremely irresponsible with your health today by going to the race, which could harm your recovery.”

“I know.”

“And yet you went.”

“But I’m here, I came back because I knew you were right and…” He stopped because he winced in pain.

“Lie down.” I took his hand and helped him onto the bed, lifting his shirt. “Did you changed this today?”

“Not yet.” I sighed and got the things I had bought earlier in the morning, starting to clean the wound. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” I said, finishing cleaning and applying a new dressing. “Here are your medications, they might make you a bit drowsy, so you’ll probably fall asleep.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “Charles didn’t explain the reason, but he told me this upsets you.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Do you want to tell me why?” He opened his arms, and I lay down on his chest.

“It’s because Jules died doing what you and my brothers do.” He hugged me tighter. “And I remember vividly the pain I felt when they buried him, leaving only memories and grief.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way and that I contribute to what scares you.”

“I don’t mind your job; I like seeing you do what you love and achieving your dreams. But I can’t help feeling scared every time you, Charles, or Arthur get into those cars.” I sighed and started tracing circles with my fingers on his chest. “It’s just that I don’t know if I could handle it if something happened to any of you. It’s not about the surgery; I just want to prevent anything from happening to you guys over something as trivial as going to watch the race in person after having your appendix removed.”

“I’m sorry for not realizing that and for ignoring your advice to rest.”

“It’s okay, I should have been honest about what was scaring me.”

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“We are.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “But from now on, if you do something like this again, you’ll have to work a lot harder for my forgiveness. I’m just being nice now because you’re recovering.”

“Okay, that’s fair enough for me.” We switched positions, and he lay on my chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bonus scene!

Carlossainz instagram stories

“Thank you all for the love messages you’ve been sending to me, it has certainly helped me a lot. I'm still recovering but with the help of all my team and my wonderful girlfriend I'm getting better every day." Tagged: Y/nleclerc

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speakergame · 9 months ago

Text

Progress Update - 3/4/24

Hello and happy March!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!

I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.

I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞

I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.

Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙

(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)

I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes:

To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.

So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.

Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now.

Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing.

All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.

This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it)

These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.

I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.

Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.

#speaker game #progress update #so happy to finally have some progress to update about XD #maybe I can finally start answering some asks again too and fully resurrect this poor blog

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dreamwritesimagines · 9 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [10] - Family Dinner

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Happy news can make a dinner so much better.

Word Count: 3800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry, did you just say marriage?”

You sipped your coffee before shooting Becca and Sarah a grin, then popped a piece of your croissant in your mouth.

“Mm hm.”

“You’re getting married to-to my—” Becca stammered. “To my brother?”

“Yeah,” you said and looked around. “Do you guys think we should get mimosas?”

“What the fuck?!” Becca exclaimed. “Since when?”

“It’d better be this morning, Y/N,” Sarah said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Technically around 48 hours ago.”

Becca gawked at you. “Y/N, I’m going to kill you.”

“Listen, I didn’t—” you waved your hands in the air. “I figured you’d want to hear it in person! It’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Wait, start from the beginning,” Sarah said. “How did that happen?”

“I had a talk with my dad,” you said, biting inside your cheek. “He’s going to choose Ian.”

Sarah frowned while Becca pulled back slightly.

“He made up his mind?”

“Mm hm.”

“You’re sure you can’t convince him?”

You shook your head.

“No,” you said, your stomach doing a tense flip. “I thought I could but…he was very clear. He will not name me his heir, it’s going to be Ian.”

“That will mess everything up,” Becca said. “Including the truce, because—”

“Bucky won’t do business with him, neither will Sam or Steve,” you finished her sentence for her. “I told my father that but it didn’t even make him think twice.”

“Great,” Sarah muttered, and you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you said. “I’m done waiting around for him to give me a chance. If he doesn’t want to give me power, I’ll take it for myself.”

“And that’s where Bucky enters the picture?”

“Exactly,” you said. “He will give me a way in, and once everything is in place I’ll take over.”

“Before Ian can?”

You nodded your head. “I’ll force my dad’s hand if I have to.”

“He’s not going to like it,” Becca sang in a teasing manner and you scoffed.

“It’s either that or we risk another war between the families,” you said. “To be honest with you, I don’t really care whether he likes it or not anymore. I’m the firstborn and it’s my right, he promised it to me all those years ago.”

“What happens when you take over though?” Sarah asked. “You and Bucky…?”

“We’ll get a divorce.”

Becca arched a brow and suppressed a smile. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “He doesn’t want to stay married to me a minute longer than it’s necessary, and I share the sentiment.”

Becca exchanged a knowing glance with Sarah, her smile widening before she turned to you.

“If you say so,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee and as if on cue, your phone started vibrating on the table. You checked the name on the screen, then answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Hi there, fiancée.”

You could already tell he was smiling from the tone of his voice and you rolled your eyes, then motioned at Becca and Sarah to give you a moment before getting up from your seat to walk out of the restaurant.

“What do you want?” you asked and he tsk tsked.

“Babe…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“My beautiful wife?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

“There’s going to be another last name there as well, don’t forget about that one,” you said. “It’s hyphenated.”

“Yeah, for some reason…” he grumbled and you heaved a sigh.

“Is there a point to this conversation? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Yeah,” he said. “There is actually. Before tonight’s dinner, I just figured you’d want to know that your father knows.”

Your eyes widened. “You told him about the engagement?”

“What? No!” he said quickly. “But he knows we’re together.”

“Except we’re not.”

“Well fine, he knows we’ve been spending time in the honeymoon suit.”

You leaned back to the wall and pinched the bridge of your nose before clearing your throat.

“He called you?”

“Not yet but my parents did.”

“That sounds like a fun conversation,” you said, smiling slightly. “What did they say?”

Bucky chuckled.

“My mom just asked how you were,” he said. “That’s her being subtle. And my dad told me to not fuck it up so, went as expected. Arthur didn’t call you?”

“He did, I just didn’t answer,” you said, pursing your lips together. “I don’t want to talk to him yet, so…”

“But are you going to be okay tonight?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not ask about your wellbeing?”

“No,” your reply came way too fast. “That’s not on the prenup.”

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and you checked your watch, then pushed yourself off the wall.

“So you’re going to the restaurant before me then?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be better if I got on your father’s good side before that conversation,” he said. “Considering I didn’t even give him a heads up—unless you want to go together?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Playing the dumbass in love will be even more difficult if I spend more than an hour with you.”

“I think you like spending time with me,” he said with a teasing tone and you scoffed.

“I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Don’t be late tonight.”

“Of course, wife.”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped and hung up, then let out a breath.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying this asshole…” you murmured to yourself, then made your way back into the restaurant.

Tonight’s dinner was not going to be very easy to handle, you could already tell. Becca had always been too good at reading your mood, so as soon as you two stepped out of the car, she reached out to hold your hand, making you turn your head.

“It’ll be fine,” she said before you could even say anything and you licked your lips.

“It makes it official,” you muttered. “All of it.”

Becca paused for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “If you’re going to get a divorce eventually…”

“Of course we will,” you said. “But it’s not just that, you know? Starting tonight, I’m going against everything my dad wants.”

Becca nodded her head.

“You are,” she said airily. “But if he didn’t want you to take over eventually, he shouldn’t have raised you as his heir to begin with. That shit is not a game, he can’t just change his mind.”

You pursed your lips together, keeping your eyes on the restaurant.

“People won’t be happy about it,” you muttered. “Me being an actual rival, or taking over.”

“You’re the firstborn,” she reminded you. “It’s your right. And that’s what you want, so fuck what everyone else will think. You’re going to do amazing.”

You stole a look at him, fear churning your insides.

“You think so?” you rasped out, desperate to hear it out loud and Becca nodded fervently.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you couldn’t pull it off,” she said. “You’re going to be much better than your father. Trust me.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thanks Becca.”

“Keep in mind how helpful I am when you’re picking your bridesmaid gown colors,” she said, making you let out a laugh. “Friendly reminder, I don’t like lilac.”

“I know, I know…” you told her, throwing an arm over her shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek, then you both walked into the restaurant.

As usual, either your father or Bucky’s father had it closed down for the night so that you all could enjoy your dinner without any strangers around. The hostess greeted you and led you to your usual table which was already occupied by Bucky’s family and yours. Your father stood up as soon as he saw you and made his way to you.

“Good luck,” Becca muttered and smiled at him. “Hi Arthur!”

“Becca my dear, welcome!” your father said as she kissed his cheek.

“I’m starving already,” she said and went to sit down while your father turned to you.

“So?” he said. “You cannot pick up the phone, Y/N?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was busy.”

“Really?” he asked. “Too busy to send a text?”

You shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips together and he heaved a sigh.

“Sweetheart…” he said. “I don’t like this, you know that. I understand that we can have our disagreements but moving out of the house?”

“I didn’t move out of the house,” you said. “My stuff is still there.”

“But you’re not staying there?”

“I felt like a change of scenery.”

“Is that all?” he asked and you cleared your throat.

“Sort of.”

“Because what I’ve been hearing…” he said. “Not to mention, both you and Bucky planning this dinner?”

“I think we should wait for him to have this conversation—where is he anyway?” you asked, looking around the restaurant and your father frowned slightly.

“We thought you two were coming together.”

“He’s late?” you asked, nervousness shooting through you and your father waved a hand in the air.

“There’s a reason for that I’m sure,” he said. “Come on, sit down. We started already.”

“Great,” you muttered to yourself and followed him to the table and waved at Bucky’s parents Winnifred and George.

“Y/N, hello!” Winnifred stood up to hug you and you hugged her back before pulling back to wave at George.

“We were going to wait for you but you know how your father is,” Winnifred said and your father chuckled, gesturing surrender.

“I don’t mind,” you said, sitting down next to Becca as you nodded in Ian’s direction. “Ian.”

“Y/N.”

“So, what is this dinner about?” George asked and Winnifred shot him a look.

“George.”

“What? I’m curious. You would think this is a life-and-death situation the way Bucky talked about it.”

“I think we should uh…we should wait for him for that one,” you said and turned to the waiter who filled your glass.

“The chef is preparing your usual, ma'am."

“Thank you,” you said and sat up straighter while George smiled at Becca.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“Of course,” Becca said with a smile. “But I’m special.”

“Will this dinner take long?” Ian asked you, checking his phone. “I have plans for 10.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” you told him but before he could retort, Becca waved at someone by the entrance and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walk into the restaurant. You cleared your throat, then pushed your seat back.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and made your way to him.

“Charm, hey—”

“With me,” you said without even stopping and he turned around to follow you out of the restaurant, and you whirled around on your heels the moment you stepped outside, raising your brows at him.

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You were supposed to be here before me, that was the plan!”

“Okay, I know I’m late but in my defense—”

“No no, you said—”

“Job got in the way, I didn’t even get the chance to change,” he cut you off and raised his wrist so that you could see the sleeve of his white shirt. “I still have blood on my sleeve, look!”

“Do I look like your drycleaner from where you’re standing?” you snapped back in a whisper. “You said you’d come before me, and considering your relationships I’d say you’re used to that!”

He rolled his eyes. “To repeat, job got in the way.”

“You’re late to dinner because you were too busy punching someone and that’s a good excuse?”

“It was necessary!”

“It was necessary for it to be you punching that person, is that right?”

“Excuse me, lovebirds,” Becca’s voice reached you and you both turned to look at her as she leaned sideways to the entrance. “Have your fight later on, they’re getting restless.”

You ran a hand over your face.

“Alright,” you said. “So okay, when are we telling them?”

“My plate is already there and I’d rather if you did it right away,” Becca said, pointing back with her thumb. “They don’t look like they’ll stop asking what this dinner is about anytime soon.”

“You just don’t want mom to ask you about Leila,” Bucky told her and Becca shrugged her shoulders.

“I mean would it kill you to do something nice for me?” she asked, making him shake his head slightly. You bit back a smile and threw your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension in your body.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered more to yourself and made your way back to the table with Becca and Bucky following you.

“Good evening,” Bucky greeted everyone at the table with a smile. “Sorry I was late, it’s just…work.”

Becca went to sit down on her seat as you eyed your food, but stood beside Bucky, clenching and unclenching your fist just so that you could focus on something else other than the nervousness pulsing in your veins.

“Is everything alright?” Winnifred asked Bucky and he nodded his head.

“Oh yeah, two meetings clashed,” he lied, subtly rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. “There was a moment of chaos but it’s fixed.”

“So can we learn what this whole secrecy and emergency dinner is about now?” George said with a knowing smile and you stole a look at your father who looked almost impatient. Knowing them, every single person at the table except Becca thought Bucky and you were about to tell them you were dating, so you were sure that the news was going to be completely unexpected for all of them.

“Yeah,” you said, reminding yourself to smile as you leaned sideways to Bucky’s arm. “You can. Sorry about the secrecy, we just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Ian scoffed a small laugh.

“You staying in a hotel in his territory might have ruined that surprise,” he said and Bucky’s eyes narrowed but you elbowed him while your father gave Ian a warning glare, making him sit up straighter.

“So uh, it happened very recently,” you said, ignoring Ian. “And normally you would have heard beforehand.”

“For which I take full responsibility,” Bucky added with a smirk. “That’s on me.”

“I mean you know we’ve had this…strange dynamic for a while.”

“Ten years,” Becca muttered into her wine glass. “Not that anyone is counting.”

“But once we actually talked to each other, something happened,” you lied through your teeth, Bucky’s arm snaking around your waist as he nuzzled to the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat but you forced yourself to remember that it was all an act. Winnifred pressed a hand on her chest as if she was lost in her emotions while your father and George exchanged glances, both smiling slightly.

“And I hope that you’ll be happy for us,” you said and waited for a second, then cleared your throat. “Because we’re getting married.”

The impact of your words was immediate and very visible. Ian’s head shot up as Winnifred gasped in shock and your father’s eyes widened while George’s jaw dropped. Becca stifled a laugh, taking another sip of her wine as she leaned back in her seat.

“Married?!” Winnifred exclaimed as she jumped on her feet. “Oh thank God, this is the best news I could ever hope for!”

“Trust me mom, I was as surprised as you are,” Bucky said with a chuckle while Winnifred pulled you into a tight hug and your father tried to pull himself together.

“Married?” he repeated and you nodded when Winnifred pulled back to hug Bucky.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…uh—” your father stammered. “That’s wonderful news honey but you two have been dating for what? Two days?”

“Three days,” you said helpfully and Bucky hissed in a breath.

“I was going to get your permission, Arthur.”

“Why didn’t you?” your father asked him, looking him in the eye but Bucky didn’t look intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh come on Arthur, don’t be so traditional!” George said with a laugh. “They’re in love, and it’s not like they met three days ago. They’ve known each other their whole lives, I for one have been hoping for this to happen for almost ten years!”

“And we already know we want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Speaking of, where’s the ring?” Winnifred asked, making you and Bucky exchange glances before you turned to her.

Shit.

Of course he was supposed to have proposed with a ring.

“The ring!” you said. “Right, uh…Bucky?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and waved a hand in the air.

“The ring, that’s—that’s a funny story actually,” he said. “You see, we um—”

“My overly confident brother didn’t bother asking the best friend,” Becca cut him off airily, pointing at herself. “Surprise surprise; it was the wrong size. We went to the jewelers today to get it fixed, they said it’ll be ready within the week.”

Dear God, you loved Becca.

You subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to her while George stood up to come closer to you.

“Congratulations son,” he said as he pulled him into a hug to slap him on the back. “You sure took your time. And Y/N, welcome to the family sweetheart.”

“Congratulations,” Ian said from where he was sitting and your father sighed, then stood up to hug you.

“We still need to talk about this,” he said. “But I’m very happy for you two.”

“Thanks dad,” you muttered as the waiters brought your food and you all sat down. You took your fork into your hand and George raised his glass.

“To happy couple!”

You and Bucky raised your glasses as well and your father took a sip of his drink, then leaned back in his seat.

“See, Y/N,” he said. “I know you’re still a bit angry at me but I told you. This right here will make you much happier than what we talked about earlier. That’s what matters.”

You arched a brow as Bucky turned to look at you better with a smirk and you stole a glance at him, a sly smile curling your lips as well.

Oh.

Of course your father naively believed that something as trivial as marriage could keep you from what you wanted. It was almost condescending at this point but you managed to hold back the retort, then clicked your tongue.

“Oh yeah,” you said, making Bucky chuckle. “I have a very clear idea of what’s actually important now, and I’ll make sure everyone else sees that as well.”

When it was time to leave the restaurant, everyone was in a wonderful mood. Winnifred had so many ideas about the wedding, and as far as you could tell, your father had gotten over the annoyance of Bucky not having asked for his permission.

“So, are you coming home?” he asked you as George and Winnifred’s car drove off and you looked at Bucky who was talking to Becca by her car.

“Maybe later,” you said with a shake of your head. “Me and Bucky have things to talk about, so…”

Your father hummed.

“Alright,” he said. “What do you say we grab lunch tomorrow then?”

You thought for a moment, then shifted your weight.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good,” he said and hugged you. “You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

You pursed your lips together. “I know, I know...”

“I’ll see you tomorrow honey, please be careful,” he said and got in the car while Ian seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ryan. Ryan’s gaze found you over Ian’s shoulder and you offered him a small smile, then turned your head when you heard Becca say your name.

“Y/N are we meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah after lunch,” you answered. “I’ve just promised my dad I’d have lunch with him, so…”

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll text you then?”

“Sounds great!” you said as she got into her car and the driver closed her door before getting into the driver’s seat. You looked into your purse, then let out a groan when you couldn’t find your phone.

“Great,” you muttered and made your way into the restaurant, the waiter stopping in his tracks the moment he saw you.

“Ma’am?”

“Hi again, I left my phone at the table,” you told him with a small laugh and he nodded.

“I’ll get it for you right away,” he said and went inside, then in a minute he was back with your phone. “Here.”

“Thank you so much,” you said. “Have a nice night!”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you left the restaurant again, then frowned as soon as you saw Ian talking to Bucky by his car while Ryan waited with Ian’s other bodyguards close by. You took a step towards them but neither of them seemed to notice you, and judging by the stern look in Bucky’s eyes, it wasn’t because they were having a fun conversation.

“…And that’s what she wants in case she didn’t tell you,” Ian said and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

“I know that.”

Ian shook his head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, but—”

“Let me stop you right there Ian,” Bucky said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re not going to say anything that I might get wrong about the woman I love.”

Your stomach did a happy flip but you quickly frowned at yourself. It was just Bucky selling this whole idea that you were in love; it wasn’t as if you and he could ever fall in love or anything.

Even the thought of it was absolutely absurd.

You cleared your throat to announce you were there and they both turned to look at you.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you said without even sparing a glance at Ian as the driver opened the car door for you and you got in with Bucky following you suit. You massaged your temples, then leaned your head back when the driver started the car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked and you gritted your teeth, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The way my dad talks to me…” you muttered and Bucky scoffed a dry laugh.

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” you rasped out. “George never underestimated you or replaced you with another heir.”

That made him pause for a moment, a dark shadow crossing his eyes before he took a deep breath.

“No worries Charm,” he said. “He won’t get to underestimate you again once you get that crown.”

You felt a small smile curl your lips as you turned your gaze to the city lights outside, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 11

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob! bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob!au #mob au

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borathae · 10 months ago

Text

“You and your friends celebrate girl’s night at the penthouse. This however, isn’t an excuse for Jungkook not to receive his welcome home kisses. You won’t complain, he’s your cutie after all.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, casual BDSM

Warnings: just girlies being best friends <3, they talk very freely about kink, she shows off her playroom, mentions of sex work & BDSM events, mommy kink, Kookie being her cute Bunnybaby <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i reread the caravan chapter of aaol and in it, Koo mentions that she can bring her girl friends over for girl's night whenever she wants to. so i wrote something about that feat. Koo being a cutie. have fun besties 🤎

You had your girls over tonight. It has been ages since you last saw them and it couldn’t be any more exciting to have them stay at your place. You call it your Paradis Girls’ Sleepover. Hyejin brings the snacks, Byulyi the drinks, Yongsun is responsible for the face masks and Wheein brings candles. You offer them your guestrooms to sleep in, comfy pajamas to wear and fluffy socks to show off.

The sleepover started at four. Hyejin and Wheein were the first to arrive. Like always. Yongsun was next and Byulyi came last. You all greeted each other with happy squeals and tight hugs, falling into excited conversation instantly. Your voices overlapped, everyone had something to tell and unsurprisingly, nobody was heard. You giggled about it and then agreed on taking turns telling your stories.

Yongsun and her now-fiancé are currently trying for a baby and are moving apartments. She stopped working at Paradis four months ago. You knew of the last fact of course because you and the others were her emotional support cheerleader in the group chat during the process. She doesn’t miss the work and says that sex with her partner feels so much better all of a sudden.

“That’s what I’m always saying. Sex hits so good when you’re only doing it with your love”, you say, snacking on some salted pretzels.

“Yeah I agree, it hits hard. You’re especially lucky though. Kook’s kinky as fuck”, Yongsun says as she sips on her makgeolli.

“Is Shiwon vanilla?” Wheein asks, “that’s news to me.”

“Oh hell no, not vanilla. Just not as kinky as Kook. You guys have a playroom. That’s so hot.”

“Oh, yes right!” you exclaim, clapping into your hands, “Yongsun, do you still wanna tell us more? Because I just remembered that we redid the toy shelves and you didn’t even see them yet.”

“Okay slay. Please show us”, Hyejin says, “unless you still want to talk, Yongsun. We don’t wanna cut your time short.”

“No, I can still talk during the house tour. I need to see the new shelves.”

“Slay. Let’s do that”, Hyejin says and gets up from the couch.

You and the other girls follow.

“Did you realise that you’ve started saying slay all the time?” Byulyi asks.

“Yes god so annoying”, Hyejin groans, “I’m watching this streamer and she keeps saying slay all the time. I can’t stop doing it because of her. Last night, I literally told one of my customers slay after we finished”, she whines, making your little group chuckle.

“Did he say something?”

“Yeah, he asked me what it meant and I had to explain to him. He said that he didn’t get it and then left. Weirdo, it’s not like he wanted to lick cheese sauce outta my belly button before that.”

Wheein cracks up, you and the others laugh as well. You can clearly imagine how weird that customer was. You had so many of those during your time at Paradis.

You chat about the streamer on the way to the playroom. Hyejin tells you that she really likes her streams and that she always watches them in the evening during dinner and her night routine. She then proceeded to gush about this new rice water moisturiser she is trying, which in return made Byulyi think of how she got a new favourite brand of rice. Conversation shifted to Byulyi and her favourite brand of rice and how she thought of so many recipes already. Wheein asked for them and Byulyi gladly shared them.

You keep the door to the playroom open, turning on the lights.

Your girls gasp and coo in unison, looking around the playroom with sparkling eyes.

“This won’t ever lose its spark”, Yongsun gushes, “it’s so hot. Seriously I’m getting all wet just being here.”

“Totally understand you”, Wheein agrees.

“Wait till you see the upgraded toy drawers. That’ll make your clits throb”, you tell them, leading them to the drawers with a happy skip in your steps.

The ladies follow you happily, looking left and right to really take in everything.

“Is that swing new?”Hyejin asks.

“Mhm? That?” you look at the black leather sex swing, “I think you girls haven’t seen it yet, but we’ve had it for like seven months.”

“Slay. Did you use it already?”

“What do you think?” you say and grin mischievously.

“Huge slay.”

Byulyi laughs because of Hyejin, patting her back sisterly.

“It’s sturdy. Also it gives me a good grip on Kook. I can really go to town on him when he’s in there”, you say.

“I can imagine”, Yongsun says, “pegging in a swing just hits so much harder”

“Yeah definitely”, Wheein agrees.

You nod your head and turn to the drawers, “now look at those drawers.”

You and your girls gather in front of them as you open them and reveal your vibrator collection to them.

“Woow so cool”, they gasp.

“Right? Right? Check out the lighting in there. Helloo? We have drawer lights”, you gush, waving your hands around in the drawer.

“That’s genuinely so fucking cool. And the pillowing too. It makes the toys look so expensive”, Byulyi gushes, poking her finger into the velvety pillowing.

“And now check this out”, you say, pushing the drawer closed. It slides closed carefully, slowing down on the last few inches before closing silently, “they have a fucking automatic break in them. Remember the stupid ass drawers in Room 14?”

“They are still getting stuck each time you close them. Trust me, I’m still struggling”, Wheein says.

“I know right. God”, you groan and open the drawer again just to show off its closing mechanism to them, “look at how smooth that is.”

“This is so cool, seriously. Now stop closing the damn drawers I wanna see the collection”, Byulyi says, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay fine. A girl can’t do anything here”, you joke.

Byulyi chuckles deeply, looking into the drawer with a lopsided smirk on her lips.

And so you show them your new toys and give them a few details about how it is to play with them. You show them your pegging dildo collection and Wheein asks about Jungkook’s progress, which you proudly show them. They react in coos and honest praise and you felt so proud of your husband. There is no better feeling in the world than being able to show off with him.

And there are also no better people to do it to than your friends. You share everything about your sex lives. No topic, kink or fetish is taboo. Conversations about them are normal to you and them and part of the bond you share. You honestly think that if you suddenly stopped being so open with each other, the friendship would feel weird. Sex was what brought you five together, it is what you first bonded over as you had to talk shit about weird customers and even now, when two of your little group stopped working at the club, sex will still be a topic keeping you together. After all, there are many kink events where the five of you and your partners go to together. The shared love for kink and fetish is just part of your identities and a big reason why you loved to be friends.

It is obvious how normal kink conversations are in your friendship, when in the middle of you showing off the sturdiness of your flogging post, Byulyi begins talking about her rice again and you all exchange recipes.

By the time the clock showed eight, Jungkook comes home from work. You and your girls were back in the living room again, but still haven’t started the movie you actually wanted to watch. Conversation was just too good to interrupt it with movies.

Jungkook is a welcome interruption however. You look at the elevator until its doors open and reveal Jungkook in his business attire.

“Hey there!”

“Yuhuu!”

“Welcome home, Kook!”

“Helloo!”

Your girls greet your husband happily, giving him enthusiastic waves.

His eyes light up instantly.

“Hey there, girls”, he greets them, stepping out of the elevator, “hey, my love”. he tells you.

“Hey, Bunny. How was work?”

“Okay. I’ll just quickly take off my outside clothes and then I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jungkook disappears in the dressing room for a moment.

“He worked later today, didn’t he?”

“No, he went for dinner with a friend. I told him to take his time. I’m surprised he’s home already.”

Jungkook reappears again, making his way to you. He looks so handsome in his grey suit that you can’t stop making heart eyes at him.

“___ says that you went for dinner with a friend?” Wheein asks him.

“Yeah, Tae. We had pork ribs. It was so yummy and I ate way too much. My pants are uncomfy now”, he says, tugging on the hem of them to give his tummy a well-deserved break, “I had to drive home with my pants undone”, he says and makes you laugh.

“I understand you so well”, Wheein says, “it’s kinda nice too though. I like being so full with food ‘cause it means that the food was yummy.”

“Yeah definitely.”

“So why are you home already?” Hyejin asks.

“Actually, funny story. Tae had to hurry home because his daughter suddenly got explosive diarrhea and his wife begged him to help her with it.”

“Eew really?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook laughs, “apparently it went all over the walls?”

“Eeew that’s so nasty eeww”, Hyejin says jokingly, “you sure you wanna get knocked up, unnie?” she teases Yongsun.

“Haha, very funny.”

“You and Shiwon are trying for a baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Yup, at least we’re trying for one. I can’t say that I’m hating the process.”

Jungkook laughs, “I can imagine.”

He finally reaches the couch, scanning his eyes over the snacks and drinks.

“Don’t look at the drinks”, Byulyi says, covering the glasses of makgeolli with her hands.

Jungkook chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t mind looking at alcohol. You girls enjoy”, he says and closes in on you.

He gets on your lap and hugs you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You hug him back instantly, smiling dreamily.

“Hey, Mommy”, he says.

“Hey there, Bunny.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. And yours?”

“Okay. I had too many meetings”, he huffs out air, “so annoying.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry Bunnybaby. But you did it, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mommy”, he giggles happily, “I thought of you during the meetings.”

“You did?”

He nods his head and lifts it so he gazes into your eyes.

“I also have to fly to Shanghai for two nights. I gotta meet with a few business partners”, he says and pouts.

“When are you leaving?”

“Wednesday. I should be home by Friday night again”, he sacks his shoulders, “I’m sorry. I know this is really last-minute, but I only learned about it today.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know”, you assure him and squeeze his dainty waist, “gosh Bunny, I’ll miss you so much. Like damn.”

“I know. Me too, Mommy”, he whines and hugs you tightly, “we gotta call each night.”

“Of course we gotta”, you say, making him giggle and lift his head so he could look at you again.

He caresses the sides of your neck, scrunching his nose cutely.

“You’re so pretty, Mommy."

“Mhm, Bunny you’re so cute. Come closer and let Mommy have her kisses.”

Jungkook leans in gladly, kissing you deeply and with his hips squirming on your lap unapologetically. You and he only act this way in front of your girls. No one else in your lives, not even family, knows this side of you. There would simply be too many awkward follow up questions and quite frankly, it was more comfortable to keep this part of your relationship private. But not in front of your girls. They know you for who you truly are. Jungkook was shy about it at first, because he never experienced sharing his kinks with people before. But once he realised that he won’t find judgment with your friends – and he visited enough kink events with you and your friends to know they are just as kinky as you – he began opening up more and more. These days, he is not ashamed of acting like Mommy’s best Bunny in front of them and he is most definitely not ashamed to show how much he likes your kisses. Everyone should know that he is Mommy’s happy Bunny when he gets your kisses.

You break the kiss because you didn’t want it to deepen too much. Jungkook will get horny again and you can’t be with him for at least a few more hours.

He smiles at you, licking his lips afterwards. You retort the smile, squeezing his hips.

“That was nice”, he says.

“Yeah, it was so nice.”

“I think I’ll go to my room then. I bet you girls have so much to talk about”, he says, looking at the others.

“It’s okay. We don’t mind the distraction”, Byulyi assures him.

“We saw the size you can take these days. That’s impressive”, Wheein adds.

Jungkook’s face is beet red in an instant. He gawks at you with big eyes.

“You showed them?”

“Of course I did. I gotta show off with my Bunny.”

Jungkook blushes even harder, hiding his face in his own hands as cute giggles leave him.

“Mommy, you’re so mean. Don’t show off with that”, he whines, making you and your girls chuckle fondly.

“Mhm no. I’ll keep showing off with my Bunny.”

“God”, he falls against you, hugging you tightly as he giggles, “this is so embarrassing. You’re so mean, Mommy.”

“Sorry Bunny. You know that I’m proud of you, yeah?” you say, patting his butt gently.

“Yeah, I guess. Hmpf so mean”, he says and straightens up. You give him a little smooch on his cheek and then it is already time for Jungkook to get up from your lap.

He looks at the snacks.

“Mhm snackies. Don’t mind me stealing some”, he says and grabs a handful of salted pretzels. He snacks on them as he leaves the living room, chewing happily, “will you girls stay the night?”

“Yup, we wanna watch a movie later.”

“Uuh movie. Which one?”

“Hereditary.”

“Isn’t that the movie with the car scene?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook cringes, “well good luck to you girls. ___ showed me the scene and I’m still traumatized”, he says, making your little group laugh.

“Thanks Kook.”

“I’ll be in the gym if you need me. I gotta work off the calories I ate. Mhm those are good pretzels. Damn”, he says and officially disappears out of sight.

You release a dreamy sigh.

“He’s so perfect, you guys. I’m so lucky”, you gush.

“Wah she’s so in love”, Hyejin teases lovingly, making you chuckle.

“I am. It’s getting stronger each day”, you say proudly, sighing adoringly.

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lady-pug · 29 days ago

Text

Written Between the Lines

Chapter VI - One Flesh, One Heart, One Soul

Summary: After marrying in the Faith of the Seven, you and Aemond are ready to consummate your marriage. But something has been troubling him about it and you are determined to get to the bottom of this before finally giving in to your desires.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 10k (on the dot!)

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece); smut, so minors DNI; oral sex (female receiving); p in v sex; hand job; fingering; switch!Aemond (leaning more towards sub!Aemond); jealousy; referenced past SA (Aemond talks about the time Aegon took him to the Street of Silk) and it's consequences to oneself (please please read carefully)

Notes: Hello everyone! You thought this story was over, didn’t you? Well, it is not. I just took a really long time writing this chapter. Because of this, the first thing I’d like to do is apologize. I’m sorry for taking so long, I got caught up in some college work and this huge event I help organize, and it took me quite a while to finish that (and not only that, as you can see by the word count, this chapter is one chonky boi, for the more I wrote the more I wanted to write and I just couldn’t stop.) Anyway, here it is and I’m sorry once again.

TW: Please please read the warnings, this one does talk about SA and it’s repercussions and consequences to oneself, (it doesn’t happen during the story, it’s only mentions of past events). If this is something you are uncomfortable with feel free to skip this one, put yourself and your own comfort first, only read it if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Stay safe!

This story will have more parts to it, but like I said, I’ve been having a lot of work to do (a shame I can’t just write all day, but meh, c'est la vie) so I won’t be able to update weekly like with the previous chapters and updates will take a little while longer.

Also, I used an online translator (I don’t know if it’s grammatically correct, I’ll just roll with it, if someone spots any mistakes please let me know and I’ll correct it right away), translations are in the end notes.

I am really proud of how this one turned out, really, I’d even dare say (throwing modesty out the window entirely) it’s one of my favorite works of mine so far. So I really hope you enjoy this one as much as I did! Thank you so so much for reading!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Your feet were killing you. There was no other way to describe it. You yearned to finally retire to your marital chambers and take off these dreaded shoes, but alas you had to entertain the guests for a little while longer at least.

“What troubles you, ābrazȳrys?” your husband asked from beside you.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, valzȳrys.” you smiled softly at him, your heart clenching at his concern.

Husband.

After four whole moons you could finally call Aemond your husband. Twice over in fact. Not only were you married in the Faith of the Seven, as per his mother’s and grandsire’s wishes, but Daemon and your mother had organized a ceremony for you to be wed in the ways of Old Valyria (after which your step-father had jested, asking if you were to consummate the marriage already or wait until after the second ceremony at the sept, earning a slap on the shoulder from Rhaenyra and a chuckle from Laenor. Aemond had in turn blushed profusely, and you thought the pink hue that dusted his cheeks suited him, wanting to see it more often).

Laenor had stayed with you in your chambers, running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep. He had woken you by dawn, reluctantly saying he had to go, for Daemon had arranged a ship to take him back, but he needed to leave as early as possible as to not risk being seen by anyone. You said your goodbyes with tears rolling down your cheeks, for you felt this was the last time you’d ever see him again, though he did tell you to pay him a visit in Qarth should you ever find your way to Essos before disappearing through the secret tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast.

You barely managed to fall back asleep after that, too eager to start the day already. Both Rhaenyra and Alicent insisted on helping you get ready, you and your mother sharing complicit smiles every time your good mother referred to her son as your ‘soon to be’ husband. The ceremony itself went by without a hitch, with Aemond placing his cloak, in a mixture of both green and black colors, over your shoulders and kissing you tenderly afterwards.

The feast was grand, with almost every major house having been invited. You had saved your first dance for Aemond, but quickly switched partners and danced with Helaena, then with Baela, Jace, Luke and even with Aegon, though the last one was short lived for Aemond, not at all enjoying the sight of his brother’s grubby hands all over you, not so gently pushed him aside and resumed as your partner once more. You felt happy, happier than you had been in several years. Your family, or most of it, was reunited again, celebrating love and not fighting a senseless war like you feared they would.

And now, even though you were having a splendid time, you were counting the minutes until you could finally retire and spend some time alone with your husband.

“I cannot believe you are going to forego the bedding.” Aegon groaned from next to you “It is tradition.” to which you had to hold Aemond back from reaching across from you and strangling his brother as the latter cackled.

In the moons that followed your betrothal you had noticed that, whenever someone who wasn’t you made any reference to anything involving your marital bed or your marital duties, Aemond would tense up. Anyone else would think the way his shoulders straightened was a demonstration of pride, a man who couldn’t wait to bed his future wife, but you had come to know him better than that. While you had no doubt he was eager to lay with you, you knew his stiffness stemmed from somewhere else, somewhere he had yet to disclose. Where most saw him preening with pride you noticed him shrinking back in on himself.

So you requested, more, begged your mother to forbid the bedding ceremony, much to Aegon’s dismay, claiming you weren’t comfortable with the situation and you were the one who wanted privacy. It wasn’t technically a lie, for you truly wanted to share this moment with your husband only, but you wanted to get to the bottom of the issue first. She was quick to agree, and anyone who complained that it entailed breaking tradition got a scorn filled glare from her and a reminder that, as Queen, her word was final. The only condition, set by some of the men in the Small Council, was that you deliver the linens to one of the maesters in the morrow as proof of your virtue.

Aemond must have noticed you slumping in your chair, tiredness seeping into your bones from hours upon hours of celebration, for he stood from his seat and extended a hand to you.

“Shall we retire for the evening, my love?”

My love.

The moniker set your cheeks aflame as you smiled softly at him, glancing briefly at your mother, seeking her permission to be excused. She nodded softly, mentioning something about retiring as well to check on Visenya. You accepted his hand and both of you left the great hall amidst praises and cheers from the guests.

As you approached his, now yours as well, chambers you could see him getting progressively more fidgety. If it was due to nerves or anticipation you could not tell. He opened the door for you, allowing you to step inside and take in the room, the things you had requested the servants to move from your previous quarters already in place.

“I have something for you.” he spoke hurriedly, almost as soon as the door was closed “A wedding gift, if you will.”

“What is it?” you watched him cross the space towards a chest nestled against the wall, rummaging inside. When he turned back to you in his hands laid a sheathed sword, a large sapphire resting on the top of the handle, almost where it met the blade, catching your eye.

“I had a little help from my uncle to get the measurements correct for you.” he extended the sword to you which you took from him almost reverently, running your fingers delicately over the intricate golden designs of the sheath.

Your eyes were filled with wonder as you pulled the blade out of the sheath, noticing how smooth and shiny the metal was. There was something different about the steel, it was more vibrant than what you were used to seeing, softer, yet somehow almost… sharper.

Aemond must have seen your questioning gaze aimed at the sword for he smiled, an almost proud smirk adorning his features as he explained.

“Valyrian steel.” you whipped your head to stare at him, astonished “Jewelry from all over the realm made of valyrian steel was melted and added to the steel alloy.”

This was a lot. It was such a thoughtful gift, made just for you by your husband that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

“I know it is not the same as an actual valyrian steel sword, like Dark Sister, but those are even harder to come by.” he started rambling, taking your silence as a sign you didn’t enjoy the gift “And it is not made with the same technique, as it was lost after the Doom-”

“It is perfect.” you cut him off, gazing at him with eyes full of emotion “It is absolutely perfect, valzȳrys, thank you. How did you manage to find the jewelry?”

“I have my ways.” he shrugged, as if unbothered.

He hummed in contentment, his face softening as he took a step closer to you.

“I also had a belt made just for you.” he stepped even closer, his gaze turning slightly darker, as if he was a predator stalking its prey “So you can wear your sword around court. All day, every day.” his finger stroked the sapphire on the handle as his lips grazed your ear “I want all to know how fierce of a woman my lady wife is.”

He closed the gap between your mouths, claiming your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss. It was over all too soon as he pulled away from you, but thankfully he didn’t go far. He took the sword from your hands, resheathing it and placing the gift on a nearby table, before kissing you again.

His arms circled around your waist and clung to your back as he kissed you hungrily, like if he didn’t get a taste of your lips he would die of starvation. His kisses left you burning from the inside, wishing, craving more.

Yet, as you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself you noticed how tense he was. You couldn’t help but take in the way his hands trembled as he started unlacing the back of your gown.

“Aemond.” you tried pulling away, to look at him properly, but he chased after you, not wanting to be parted from your lips. He only stopped when you gently grabbed his cheeks and had to physically pry himself from you “Husband, I think we ought to talk.”

He recoiled and was out of your arms and across the room in an instant, moving so fast you barely had any time to react.

“Do you not wish to consummate our marriage?” he looked so heartbreakingly hurt for only a moment but then he steeled himself and you could sense the mask of indifference he often wore around court starting to slip back on.

“No, my love, of course not.” you rushed to his side, once again cupping his jaw urging him to look at you “I am just worried for you, is all.”

“Why should you be worried about me, ābrazȳrys?” he spoke, his tone clipped and cold, more so than it had been in a really long time. If he noticed how much his question offended you he didn’t let it show.

“Why should I not worry about you, husband?” you emphasized the last word, taking a long deep breath to steady yourself and let go of your exasperation “I just wish to know why the thought of consummating our marriage worries you so.”

It was Aemond’s turn to stare at you in confusion.

“I believe I have made it quite clear the depths of my desire for you.”

“I know, I know. And I desire you greatly as well, never doubt that even for a moment.” you sighed, worried he’d shut you out or push you away if you prodded any further, but decided to push forward regardless “It is just that, in the past few moons, whenever anyone else mentioned or even hinted at our marital duties to one another you became tense, withdrawn even.”

He looked taken aback at your words, as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing such a thing in the first place.

“I just wish to understand what ails you, my love.”

My love.

Those two words once again seemed to be what chirped at his resolve. He averted his eye, almost in shame, and turned his back to you. For a moment you feared he was going to walk out the door and leave your shared chambers altogether but he did no such thing. Instead he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. You wondered if you should approach him or give him space, worried he’d flinch from your touch like a frightened animal, but even if he didn’t meet your gaze his body was turned towards you, open and inviting. So you took slow and deliberate steps towards him, taking your place besides him.

He stayed silent for a moment, clenching his fists as they rested on his thighs. You took one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze in hopes of calming his nerves. You raised your free hand towards the side of his face but stopped before you could touch him.

“May I?” you asked, and you didn’t need to say the words for him to know what you meant. Only after he nodded almost imperceptibly did you remove his eyepatch, revealing the alluring sapphire that matched the one placed on the gift he had given you.

“Aemond.” he glanced at you, something akin to guilt clear upon his features “Remember what we told each other earlier? I am yours and you are mine. Whatever it is, your burdens are now mine to carry as well.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, caressing the edge of his scarred flesh.

“Let me help you relieve some of that burden, please.” you practically whispered, almost begging.

For a moment he said nothing. Then he turned his head slightly, placing a kiss upon your palm.

“I have something I need to tell you.” he spoke, fear clinging to his voice.

“What is it?”

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, wondering what could possibly be afflicting him so badly as to react like this, but nothing came to mind. So you settled on waiting for him to speak, not wanting to rush to conclusions.

“I have laid with a woman before.”

That… is not what you were expecting.

“When?” you did not know what else to say, so you settled for asking that.

“Years ago.” he shook his head, as if trying to forget “You were in Dragonstone at the time.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. You didn’t wish to dismiss his feelings, but you couldn’t seem to understand what the big deal was.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he pulled back, almost offended

“Yeah.” you shrugged “I fail to see what the problem is.”

“How could you say that?” he stood up, pacing back and forth in front of you in frustration.

“We were not yet involved with one another, so you were not technically bound to anyone.”

“You waited around for me-”

“I did not remain a maiden specifically for you.” you reminded him “If I were a man I, too, would probably have indulged in the pleasures of the flesh.”

“Still. I should not have sullied myself like that, it was unbecoming of someone of my position and a disrespect to you, to my future wife.”

You wanted to argue further, to make him see reason, but the disproportionate reaction to something that, to you, seemed so trivial clued you in that his troubles ran deeper than you first thought. So you stopped talking, choosing to just annalyse his mannerisms. His movements were erratic, his fingers clawing at its nail beds almost to the point of breaking the skin, a habit inherited from his mother which he almost never indulged in.

He halted when he felt your hand wrapping around his arm, the leather of the doublet cold against your skin.

“You do not have to explain yourself to me. But I feel like there is something you are not telling me.” you grabbed both of his hands in your own, kissing his knuckles tenderly “I completely understand if you do not wish to share it. We can just forget this conversation ever happened and I shall not press any further, but, husband, please, I only wish to help ease your troubles.”

Aemond paused, exhaling shakily, before averting his eyes once more. Shame and guilt emanated from him in waves as he sat back down on top of the linens. You waited for his next move, smiling softly when his arms circled around your waist and brought you closer to him, standing between his parted legs.

“On my thirteenth name day,” he shuddered softly when he felt your fingers running through his scalp, his cheek resting in your stomach as he spoke “Aegon took me to the Street of Silk, as his gift to me. I did not know where we were going, ‘a surprise’ he said.”

It was your turn to shudder, your stomach churning as you felt where his tale was headed.

“He said… he said it was time for me to become a man. To become as well versed as he was, ‘a scholar in the ways of life’. I did not understand what he meant at first, but it was clear to me soon enough.”

He turned his head, hiding his face in your stomach as his hold on you tightened. The scene reminded you so much of the last time you saw him before your years-long distance, on that fateful night on Driftmark. Looking at him now you realized that, deep down, he was still that scared little boy, hiding behind the image of the fierce, impassive warrior he had created for himself over the years.

“Aemond, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whispered “I get it. You do not need to continue if you wish to stop.”

He shook his head in response, desperate to get it all out now that he had already started. You supposed this was the first time he was speaking these words out loud, never having dared to utter it to a single soul before. So you tried to soothe him as best as you could, pulling the band that held his hair up in its usual half updo and letting it down, giving you more room to run your fingers through his locks, untangling the silver strands. This seemed to give him enough strength to continue, shifting his head so only his forehead was in contact with you and his words were directed to the ground below him, as if he couldn’t dare to look up at you.

“He arranged for a… a w-whore” he spit the word out like it was poison on his tongue “to take care of me in exchange for a bag of gold, and when the woman tried to give him back the excess amount, claiming it was too much, he told her to keep it. ‘For your trouble’ he told her.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest at his words. You were never too fond of Aegon, especially for the way he treated both Aemond and Helaena, but this… this was vile even for him.

“He wanted to watch.” he propped his chin on your stomach, peering up at you with a round, frightened eye that was steadily brimming with tears “I did not want him to watch. The madam tried to send him away, but he insisted, saying that he was the prince and he commanded it. Thankfully he got distracted by some other woman there and left.”

“A-and how did-” you swallowed thickly, trying to stay strong for him even though your own heart shattered for the boy he once was, the boy who shaped the man he was now “how did that make you feel?”

He shook his head once more, his gaze becoming distant, as if he was now looking through you rather than at you.

“I do not remember much.” he whispered “I just remember the stench. The whole place stunk. It reeked of sweat and wine and something… something so sickeningly sweet it was foul. Once I left I could still feel the smell clinging to me.”

One lone tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another, and then another. You cupped his cheek, your thumb catching the tears that refused to stop as he hiccuped.

“I tried washing it off. Scrubbed at my skin until it was raw and tender, but it would not go away.” his voice started to get tight “After a few days and several baths later it was still there, still lingering. I tried asking mother and even Helaena if they could feel it in me but they lied. They lied and said I smelled fine but I could feel it.” he choked back on a sob “I could feel it in me still, like it had seeped into my very bones. Sometimes when I think too hard about that night I can still feel it in my skin, like it never even left.”

His arms brought you even closer to him, almost to the point of pain, as if he was trying to completely merge his very being into you.

“I know I shouldn’t have.” his gaze focused on you once more, eye pleading for you, his tone bordering on desperation “Forgive me, please, mandianna! I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place, I shouldn’t have-”

“Qȳbor, stop.” you whispered softly, not wanting to aggravate him when he was this vulnerable “You have nothing to apologize for. You were only a child.”

“Still, I should have known better than-” he started shaking his head again, the look in his eye almost crazed, like he wanted so desperately for you to see him the way he saw himself.

“Aemond.” you spoke firmly, gripping his chin to force him to look at you “You were a child.”

A moment of silence passed, only his heavy breathing to be heard. Then something dawned on him, for he pressed his face against your stomach once more and started sobbing uncontrollably. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his wails, your arms coming around his frame to hold him against you, one hand gripping the back of his head and the other stroking his back. He cried and cried and cried. It seemed like he finally understood, after all these years, what truly happened that night. He realized his own brother sold his innocence, something that was his to freely give to whomever he chose, for some coin. His brother and, by extension, the madam forcefully took from him something that was inherently his, that should have remained his, something he would never get back and would never not miss. It was his, it should have been him to choose what to do with it, and they took it from him.

His loathing shifted then. What was once aimed at himself, the hatred he felt for the stench that never truly went away, shifted in turn to Aegon. He slowly, very slowly, started to forgive that thirteen year old boy, the one that never left either, for the things that happened to him that night. He now realized you could not forgive him for what he had done, for the one whose forgiveness he really needed was himself. It would take him a long time, he knew, to accept his own absolution, and perhaps he never would, not fully anyway, but he could certainly try.

Once he calmed down enough, his sobs turning to mere sniffles, he raised his head to glance at you once more. You were smiling softly at him, eyes so filled with love and compassion he felt almost undeserving of it. Your fingers in his hair helped to ground him, to bring him back to this moment in your arms. Realizing what had just transpired he tried to turn his head away in embarrassment but you wouldn’t let him.

“I am glad I have earned your trust enough for you to share this with me.” you spoke with reverence, earning a shy smile in return.

He then dried the remaining tears from his face and tried to stand up, but you were quicker, pressing onto his shoulders so he would remain seated.

“We do not have to do anything tonight.” you brushed a strand of hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear “I can just prick a finger and smear some blood on the linens.”

“But I want to.” he almost whined, not wishing for you to part from him “I want to do this with you. With you I do not feel that stench, I-” he took a steadying breath before whispering “I just feel you.”

In that very moment you felt like your heart would burst from how much love you held for this man.

“Okay.”

He smiled brightly then, nuzzling his nose against you.

“But…” you pulled back from him, commanding his full attention “we will do only what you wish, nothing more. Whatever you want, tell me and it is yours. And if you wish to stop, at any moment, you tell me, alright?”

“Alright.” he nodded, quite enthusiastic.

“You have to promise me you will tell me if you want to stop.” you reiterated “Promise me.”

He stared up at you with so much adoration you felt like the Mother brought to land.

“I promise.”

You smiled, satisfied that he would follow through should he need to.

“Well, how do you want to start then?”

His gaze turned to one of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we cannot just jump right into it.” you jested.

“We can’t?” he looked so preoccupied at that, and your heart broke all over again. By the Gods, what had they done to this boy in that brothel?

You crouched down so your face was level with his, your noses almost touching as you whispered into his lips.

“Tell me what you want, valzȳrys.”

Aemond was at a loss for words, a world of endless possibilities presented itself to him and he didn’t know where to begin. But he supposed there was one thing he knew could be a good place to start.

“Can you kiss me?” he pleaded.

You sat down next to him on the bed, your body turned towards him, your knees bumping against his.

“You want me to kiss you?” you spoke softly, deciding to tease him for a bit by pulling one of his hands to your lips and kissing his knuckles “Is this where you want me to kiss you?”

“No,” he shook his head “not there.”

You hummed as if confused and let your lips graze his cheek.

“What about here?”

“No.”

Your lips traveled lower, placing a gentle kiss against his jaw.

“Here?” to which he shook his head.

Going lower, your lips traced the column of his throat, earning a soft gasp from him.

“N-not there either.” he whimpered as your teeth nipped against his skin gently.

“Then where do you want me to kiss you?” you pulled back, staring at his eye “I need you to tell me.”

His cheeks lit up bright pink, embarrassment coursing through him at the thought of speaking his thoughts out loud. But he had come to learn that if there was one person in his life that he could trust, that person was you.

“On the lips.”

You relented then, chasing his lips with your own. They were soft, only a trace of salt left behind by his tears previously shed. You kissed him gently, hands cupping his jaw as his own settled on your waist. It was tender, almost chaste, and you tried pouring all the love you felt for him into the kiss.

“I like it when you kiss me.” he whispered when you pulled back “No one else has ever done that for me.”

It was your turn to look confused, staring at him wide eyed.

“You have never been kissed before?” you questioned “By anyone other than me?”

He shook his head. That explained why he seemed so inexperienced the first few times around, because he truly was inexperienced.

“Not even…?” you didn’t want to say it, but he understood what you meant.

“No.” he denied again “It felt too intimate.”

More intimate than sex? you thought.

“After that night in the tub, before Driftmark,” you recalled that night, the night you shared your very first kiss. It was a peck more than anything, a childish attempt mostly, but it had meant the world to you “whenever I thought about doing it with someone else it did not feel right. Yours were the only lips I ever wanted to taste.”

You couldn’t help yourself, surging forward to capture his lips with your own in a heated kiss. The quiet whimper that escaped his mouth only spurred you on, seeking his touch. Your tongue eagerly tangled with his, tasting the sweet Dornish Red he had been sipping on before and something that was so inherently him.

He pulled back then, breathing heavily against your lips, a sheen line of saliva connecting both your mouths before dissipating.

“What about you?” he questioned, still trying to regain his breath.

“What about me?”

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, averting his gaze shyly “Before me, I mean? You are quite good at it, I believe.”

“Well, I have had some practice.” it was your turn to feel embarrassed, quickly glancing away from him “For a while Jace and I believed mother would eventually marry us to one another after we left for Dragonstone. We decided to get used to each other before the inevitable happened.”

Something twisted painfully in Aemond’s chest at the thought of you, a younger you, locking lips with his damned nephew. It was almost primal, this rage he felt. You were his and his alone. You have always been his from the very moment you had come into this world, and you’d continue to be his until the Stranger came to collect your soul.

“It was gross, really. Happened only a handful of times before we gave up trying to pretend we were not disgusted by the idea.”

Your words did little to quell his unsettling feelings. Was this what jealousy felt like? Not envy, actual jealousy? Envy was something he was familiar with, for he had felt it pretty much all his life. He envied Aegon the most, but he also envied Rhaenyra a lot as well, your brothers and hells, even Helaena sometimes even though he loathed it. This was different.

“And I may or may not have gotten a bit too tipsy while staying on Winterfell during my travels and shared a kiss or two with the Warden of the North.”

“Cregan Stark?” he scoffed. While the thought of you swapping spit with a boresome and self-righteous northerner was a little less rage inducing in comparison to Jacaerys, that simmering jealousy was still present.

That all dissipated though at the feeling of your fingers gently brushing his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear.

“But none of them hold a candle to you.” his heart skipped a beat at your words, your hand reaching to do the same to the other side of his hair “Especially when you blush so prettily.”

Heat spread all over his face, as he stammered.

“I-I do no such thing!” he tried sounding offended, but all he did was make you giggle, as he proved your words right.

“Yes, you do.” you hooked a finger under his chin, forcing him to keep his gaze on you “You turn all red at a mere brush of my fingers, at the slightest of compliments. Like a maiden.”

He felt the warmth spreading to the tip of his ears, the back of his neck and even down his chest.

“How red do you think you would blush if I touched you some more, hm?”

Your fingers gently traced down his throat, feeling when he gulped harshly.

“Would you like that, husband?” you trailed down his soft skin, reaching the spot where his collarbone met the leather coat he still wore “For me to touch you?”

He nodded, somewhat shyly, but very much eager for you to make due on your word.

“Can I take this off?” you tugged at his doublet, almost startling at the speed at which he stood up and took it off for you. The linen chemise he wore underneath it quickly followed and he was left shirtless in front of you. You’d never get tired of looking at him, bare or otherwise. He was beautiful, all valyrian and almost none of the Hightower blood from his mother. You believed if the god Balerion ever had a physical body it would definitely look like Aemond.

You stood up as well, facing him as your fingers traced his features. You started by tracing his nose, following the curve of it down to his mouth, his lips twitching upon your touch as he puckered them, placing a soft kiss on the pads of your fingers. You traced along the column of his throat, your fingers tangling softly on the strands at the nape of his neck and tugging gently, earning a whimper from him. Then you kept going, fingers sliding against the planes of his chest and tracing the taunt lines of muscle in his abdomen. As you reached the hem of his breeches you snaked your arm around his slim waist, sprawling your hand against the slope of his lower back and pushing him towards you. The little ‘hmph’ sound that escaped him at the impact of your bodies was quickly drowned by your lips as they claimed his own in another fierce kiss.

Your fingers started their exploration all over again, starting once more at the back of his neck and slowly following down the length of his spine, feeling each and every ridge and bump under his skin, as he shuddered with every brush of your digits.

“P-Please,” Aemond mumbled as you nipped at his bottom lip “ābrazȳrys, please.”

“Please what?” you kissed his jaw, then down his neck, then at the juncture where his neck met his shoulder.

“Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you, valzȳrys.” you smirked against him, your teeth nibbling gently on his skin.

“J-just please…” he moaned softly as your tongue soothed the spot you had bitten “touch me, please.”

You decided to have mercy on him, moving your hand to the front of his trousers, stopping short at the laces.

“May I?” he nodded his head desperately.

Untying his breeches you let them slide down his body, pooling at his feet, as he finally revealed himself to you. He was already hard, almost painfully so, weeping at the tip and awaiting your touch.

And then… you hesitated, unsure how to proceed. While you felt satisfaction at teasing him, you were the maiden in this situation. No amount of hushed, almost shameful lessons from your septa, no amount of embarrassing tips and advice from your mother could prepare you for the actual thing. You may have practiced your kissing skills with Jace and, briefly, with Cregan, but you had never gone any further, knowing what the realm regretfully thought of women of your station indulging before being wed and refusing to let your virtue be made a spectacle of. So while you may have talked a big game before, as if you held all the knowledge, it was all purely theoretical.

Aemond, sensing your apprehension, searched your gaze with his.

“What is it?” he asked, voice laced with quiet concern.

“Nothing much.” you chuckled, although it sounded mirthless to your ears, conveying your embarrassment “I am merely assessing the best way to approach the situation at hand.”

While you had chosen not to be direct about your troubles, opting instead to jest about it, he had understood you clearly, for you had become so intune with one another the past few moons. With deliberate movements he delicately held your wrist, never breaking eye contact, as he brought your hand over to him slowly, very slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him if you wished. But you didn’t want to. You let him guide you, his large hand settling over yours as you gathered some of the pearlescent wetness dripping from his tip in your palm before guiding you to encircle his cock, his fingers around yours as he shuddered at the first contact of your skin against his.

He was hot and heavy in your hand as he directed your movements with precision, stroking his cock up and down, pumping him, slowing or speeding up your motions to his liking. Slowly but surely you started to take control, following his lead and mimicking his actions. He groaned encouragingly, letting go of your fingers, his hands settling on your waist as you continued to stroke him up and down and up and down, speeding up or slowing down, gathering some more wetness under your thumb and stroking his cock with it. His groans and grunts emboldened you, trying to gauge his reactions.

And then you tightened your hold on him, squeezing his cock just a bit tighter under your grip, and he almost tumbled to the ground, his knees nearly buckling in reaction. His own grip on you grew tighter, as if supporting his weight on you, head tilted forward and face hiding in the crook of your neck as he moaned.

He was loud.

Even muffled against your skin, his moans and whines resonated throughout the bedchambers as you continued your ministrations, increasing in pitch with each tilt or flick of your wrist, with each squeeze and stroke of your hand. You were tugging him faster now, your grip firm and deliberate as his cock twitched in your hold and his whole body trembled against you.

“Wait.” he mumbled, his voice strained “P-please, just wait.”

You ripped yourself away from him then, a sudden surge of guilt blooming in your chest.

“Forgive me.” you glanced at him, averting your gaze in shame as you wondered if you had made him too uncomfortable “I got carried away. I apologize.”

“You misunderstand me, wife.” he tried to slow his erratic breathing “I do not wish for you to stop. But if you continued as you were I would surely spill my seed against your hand. We should not let any of my spend go to waste on a night as important as this one.”

What?

Your confusion must have been reflected on your features for he continued his explanation, his voice carrying a teasing tone to it.

“It is expected of us to produce an heir tonight. We wouldn’t want to fail our duties now, would we?” he gripped your chin, placing a chaste kiss against your lips “The first time I spill my seed I want it to be inside your cunt.”

Had it been anyone else, had you been married to anyone else, you would have assumed they meant it as a command, solely means to an end, as producing heirs was indeed part of your duty. But this, you noticed in his eye, was his way of showcasing his true intentions without actually saying it, hiding behind some mere jesting: he wanted this. He wanted to give you an heir, for his seed to take root in your womb and for you to carry his child. The thought elicited warmth in your chest, feeling giddy at the idea.

“Can I touch you now?” he asked, his plea bordering on desperation as he gave a quick peck to your lips.

You pulled back then, staring deeply at him.

“Do you believe you deserve to touch me?” you whispered against his lips.

He faltered then, unsure what you wanted from him. A shake of his head had you scoffing softly.

“Try again.” you nuzzled your nose against his, trying to coax him out of his self made shell “Do you deserve this?”

The glint he noticed in your eyes gave away what you wanted from him, so he nodded, his movement curt and shaky.

“I want to hear you say it.” your voice made it sound like a request, but he knew it was anything but.

“Yes.” he whispered back, his breath fanning your lips.

“Yes what?”

“I deserve it.” as the words left his lips, for the first time in a long time, he started to actually believe them.

You nodded, satisfied with him.

“Yes, you do.” you cooed, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging “You do deserve this.”

As your lips settled on his jaw, he caught onto every hidden meaning of your words, affection swarming in his chest.

You deserve to be loved.

He claimed your lips in a soft kiss once more, his fingers resuming their task of untying the laces in your beautiful wedding gown, letting it slip down your arms and pool in a heap on the floor. He made quick work of your smallclothes as well, leaving you bare before him. He hurriedly stepped out of his discarded breeches, carefully helping out of your dress and closer towards the bed.

Aemond’s fingers danced across your skin, caressing you with such reverence it almost brought tears to your eyes again. His fingers crawled down your spine, sliding between your shoulder blades, like you had done for him, his lips trailing down your neck with soft kisses. Goosebumps formed on your skin as his fingers traced your ribcage, his touch so close yet not close enough to your breasts. He nipped at your collarbone, his hand finally closing around one of your breasts, gentle, like he was weighing it in his hand, his lips following down and nibbling at the skin of the other breast. A loud, strangled whine left escaped you as he pinched your nipple, rolling the bud between two fingers, growing louder as his lips closed around the other nipple.

You could feel the walls of your cunt pulsing as his tongue worked your breasts, your heartbeat increasing as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. The noise that left your lips seemed to spur him on even further, as he sucked with more intensity and he groped your other breast more firmly, his entire hand surrounding the skin.

His fingers trailed even further down, passing your navel and slipping between your folds. His touch was featherlight against your dripping cunt, gathering some wetness and circling your entrance, without ever dipping inside

“P-please, husband.” you whined, your back arching in pleasure at his teasing, pushing your breast even more into his face.

He relented then, pushing his finger inside your cunt, slipping in easily with how soaked you already were. His moan echoed your own as your walls fluttered around his digit. He let you get used to the intrusion for a moment before starting to move his finger inside you, his movements tentative as he explored your walls, almost like he was searching for something, for what you didn’t know.

Though you’d never admit this to anyone, you were acutely aware of his fingers, having paid close attention to them when you watched him train. They were long and slender as they gripped the handle of his sword, but at the same time they were strong and thick and, as he added a second one, you could feel how perfectly well he filled you. As he explored your cunt, you could feel every movement of his fingers brushing against your walls, that familiar coil of pleasure slowly but steadily building in your core. It only intensified as the heel of his hand pressed against your clit as he tried to reach even further inside you, the molten heat pooling in your core and starting to spread through your whole body, so much so you barely noticed when his mouth had moved to your other breast.

Then his fingertips brushed against one spot inside your cunt that almost made you see stars, your legs wobbling as pleasure shot up your spine and assaulted all your senses. You could feel him smirk against your skin as you moaned loudly, brushing against the same spot again as you mewled and whined, trying to move away from him but the arm snaked around your back prevented you from doing so. His fingers seemed to reach places inside you didn’t know existed as he clawed and scissored inside your cunt, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It was almost too much and barely enough at the same time; you wanted him like you had never wanted anything else in your entire life.

He let go of your nipple with a wet smack of his lips, his mouth settling on that spot behind your ear and pressing soft kisses against your skin. It was such a contrast from the way his fingers were working inside your cunt, his words gentle and sweet, mumbling caring words in high valyrian as he mouthed and nibbled on your skin, but the pleasure was clouding your thoughts, the words getting fogged up in your mind. But something caught your attention, and as you tuned into the words, they were your undoing.

“Avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrītsos.” he whispered against the shell of your ear, laying a soft kiss on the skin “Va moriot emagon se va moriot kessa.”

With a stutter of your heart the coil in your core snapped, hot, molten pleasure washing over you and spreading throughout your whole body, tingling with dozens of goosebumps that formed on your skin. It left you breathless, sluggish and warm as you tried to regain your bearings.

“Aem…-” you tried calling out to him, voice hoarse from the intensity of your moans, but you couldn’t seem to find your voice just yet.

But he heard you. And something in him snapped.

In an instant you were lying on your back against the soft linens, barely having time to react as he pushed you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. His lips claimed yours in a hungry, almost desperate kiss, you were sure your mouth would be sporting bruises on the morrow such was its intensity. He settled in between your spread thighs, his hard length nestling between your folds as he nipped on your jaw, kissing a line down your neck.

“Say it again, please.” he begged “Say my name again.”

“A-Aemond?”

“No, no, not that.” he admonished softly, kissing your mouth once again.

You searched your mind for what he could possibly be referring to. That was his name, was it not? What you’d always referred to him as, if you weren’t calling him by his familial ties to you, in common tongue or high valyrian alike?

Except it wasn’t.

It had been years, well over a decade even since you referred to him as something else entirely. Barely a toddler, Jace only a babe and Luke still in your mother’s womb, you followed Aemond around the Keep like a lost puppy all day, for he seemed to be the only one willing to entertain you. It was only natural then for you to worship the ground he walked on, basking in his attention for as long as he was willing to give it to you. But as such a young child you couldn’t properly speak such a complicated name in conversation, settling on calling him for a shortened sobriquet. You didn’t think much of it, and he never opposed such a nickname, until Aegon caught you calling him by the moniker and instantly started teasing the both of you relentlessly because of it. It earned him a swift kick to the shin and three days without speaking to either of them, but as it often is with small children, your grudge was quickly forgotten, going back to trailing after Aemond. However, to save both him and yourself from further humiliation, you settled for referring to him only as ‘uncle’ until you could utter his full name, never again daring to use the nickname.

It was so meaningless to you, back then. And you were both so young, he couldn’t possibly remember that, could he?

“Aem?” you spoke tentatively, not sure if this is what he wished for.

The loud whine that escaped his lips, breathed against your cheek, and the way his cock twitched were all the answer you needed.

“Please, little niece, byka mandianna,” he rasped, desperation dripping from his tone as he started gently rocking his hips against yours “Please say that again.”

“Aem…” you said with more confidence, breaking off into a moan at the end as the head of his cock brushed against your clit.

He shifted his body on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“Again, please.”

“A-Aem?” even though you wanted this, truly and wholeheartedly, now that you were about to consummate your marriage for real you were suddenly filled with a twinge of apprehension. While you were certain Aemond wasn’t like most men, you had heard stories from women at court about how their husbands treated them in the throes of passion.

Sensing your quiet distress, Aemond lifted his head to stare at you, sapphire eye glinting under the soft glow of the candles and silver strands cascading around you.

“We can stop if you wish.” he spoke quietly.

“No, no please, I want to. I am just…”

Even if you couldn’t quite explain it he seemed to understand, for he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I promise to be gentle.”

In his eye you saw nothing but truth, the sincerity of his words easing your nerves.

“I trust you.”

He nodded and started ever so slowly pushing inside you, inch by inch, pulling back and thrusting inside again, a little deeper than before. It was a lot for the both of you, your combined moans echoing through the chambers; even though he wanted to look upon your eyes as you shared this moment he couldn’t, his head falling against your shoulder as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. His cock was met with little resistance, your cunt still soaked. The pain you were previously expecting came in the form of an acute pinch as your cunt stretched to accommodate him, your breath hitching and a whimper passing through your lips. Aemond shushed and cooed against your ear, little whispers of ‘I’ve got you’ spoken against your ear as he stalled his movements, only resuming them when he felt you relax in his arms once more.

When he finally settled, his hips flush against yours and his cock inside your cunt to the hilt, you released your breath, not even realizing you had been holding it. You felt like you were burning from within where your bodies were connected, yet it was a comforting kind of heat, not at all like dragonfire. At least not yet. You could feel every ridge of his cock, every twitch that made the walls of your cunt clench in response. It was so intimate, you had never been closer to a person in your life, and you felt like the longer you stayed like this you were being perfectly molded to one another, as if you weren’t already a permanent fixture in each other’s hearts. You felt complete.

As your discomfort subsided, the pain slowly turning to a sense of fullness, you tangled your fingers in his hair, turning your head to the side to breathe upon his ear.

“I am alright now, husband. You can move.”

Regardless of your request he stood still for a moment longer, breathing heavily and erratically against your skin.

“Aem?” you spoke softly, worried it might be too much for him.

That seemed to do the trick, as Aemond slowly started to roll his hips against yours, pulling his cock almost all the way out and thrusting back in, filling you to the brim once more. Every time he would thrust back in the head of his cock would brush against that spot inside your cunt that had your eyes rolling back, shooting little bolts of pleasure up your spine and filling your core with fire once more.

His hips picked up pace, then, his thrusts far faster and more powerful than before. He let go, fully dropping his weight on top of you, pressing you against the mattress as your legs framed his hips, your hands gripping at his shoulder blades.

It was intense and blazing and comforting and overwhelming and caring and sultry and loving and oh, so good, all at the same time this push and pull and shove and tug and you couldn’t think straight yet your focus was sharp and you could feel everything and it was absolutely, downright perfect.

The stretch of your cunt wrapped tightly around his cock was no longer painful, giving away to unimaginable pleasure like you had never felt before. You were acutely aware of the way Aemond mouthed at your shoulder, mumbling barely coherent words against your skin.

“Ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria.” he grunted against your skin, groaning as the words made you clench tightly around him “Dōna zaldrītsos, jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys.”

He was rambling, almost irrationally, too far gone in his own pleasure. That and the way his thrusts were becoming sloppy, now more of a rut of his hips against yours, indicated that he was close.

Enamored with the way he moaned your name and your title and your future title and sweet monikers, in high valyrian mostly, you couldn’t help but want to see how far he would go.

“Husband, valzȳrys,” you tangled your fingers in his hair once more, giving the locks a gentle tug, earning a whine in response “Avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrīzes. Avy jorrāelan tolī hae olvie hae konīr issi qēlossās isse se jēdar, Aem.”

It was enough to send him off the edge, his hips stuttering and cock twitching violently, painting your walls with warm ropes of his seed. He practically sobbed in your arms between clenched teeth, his arms squeezing you tightly against him as he gave a few more weak thrusts, his breath fanning the skin of your neck still. The scorching pressure that had been building in your stomach seemed to fade slightly as Aemond slowed to a stop, his softening cock still nestled inside you as he stilled completely on top of you, trembling in your arms. His hair was sticking to his head, damp with sweat, the rest of his body also drenched and clammy from the exertion, much like your own. He stood still for a moment, trying to catch his breath and recover.

“F-Forgive me, ābrazȳrys.” he raised his head and it was then you could see the remnant of tears in his eyes, from your words or the intensity of his peak, you couldn’t tell.

“What for?” you smiled brightly at him, pushing a strand of silvery hair behind his ear, making him shiver as your fingers brushed against his cheek.

“Y-you did-” he finally seemed to recollect his thoughts as he pushed himself on his forearms above you “You did not peak.”

“That is quite alright.” you shrugged, not at all bothered by that “I did so earlier, from your fingers.”

He shook his head, a determined look in his face as if to say that that wouldn’t do.

“No wife of mine will be left unsatisfied.” he was already pulling out of you with a soft hiss and maneuvering on the bed despite your protests, coming to settle on his stomach at the edge of the mattress.

“Aemond what are you-” you yelped as he grabbed both your legs and yanked you towards himself, his face level with your cunt. He placed your thighs over his shoulders and placed one arm over your stomach “Aemond, you do not have to.” you tried once more.

“I want to.” he said, his eyes never straying from where his spend started leaking from your cunt “Can a man not enjoy the taste of his wife on their wedding night?”

“Of course you can, it is just that-” he didn’t let you finish, pulling another broken, choked moan from you as he licked a broad stripe over your folds.

Aemond feasted upon your cunt like a man starved, drinking down your juices mixed with his own spend, but that didn’t seem to deter him, oh no, if anything the salty taste of himself against your own tangy one only seemed to spur him on.

It didn’t take long to get you back to where you were moments before, that burning pressure still lingering in the back of your mind. You knew Aemond was talented with his tongue, hells, he was known for his silver tongue that could cut down even the most fearless in court. Moreover, he was fluent in the language of your ancestors, his tongue rolling around the letters as he almost purred the words into the world, a language just for your own. And yet, he never ceased to surprise you with how good he could make you feel with his tongue alone.

Clenching the sheets under your palms, you almost sobbed as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. He rolled it around his lips, his tongue peaking out to give your clit a few small licks as he extended one of his arms to, prying your fingers from the linens and threading them with his own, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, his other arm draped across your stomach, holding your hips down as you started canting them against his face.

You weakly raised yourself on your forearms to be able to look at him properly, peering at him through heavy lidded eyes, and were surprised to notice him already looking at you, gazing at you with so much adoration in his eye as his hips rutted against the bed. You realized, not for the first time, that bringing you pleasure brought him pleasure in return. He hummed as he noticed you staring at him, the vibrations sending jolts of unbridled pleasure up your spine and down again. His eyes twinkled and curled up, little crinkled lines adorning the corners, and you recognized that the smug bastard was smirking, self-satisfied at having you reduced to such a moaning mess before him.

The coil of pleasure in the form of a pool of liquid heat was steadily building up again with each stroke of his tongue over your folds, each flick of his lips over your clit stoking that fire growing and expanding inside you. His grip on your hips tightened as his other hand moved down to your cunt and shoved two fingers inside you, pulling back a bit to address you quietly.

“Let go, wife. I know you want to. You can let go for me.”

And then his fingers curled upwards, brushing against that spongy spot once more and you were done for. The bliss that washed over you, tangling with the burning love you held for this man, was so intense it sent waves through your whole body. Stars danced behind your eyelids, your eyes having closed on their own accord some time before, as the pleasure rolled and stretched to all of your extremities, making your fingertips tingle and your toes curl, knocking the breath from your lungs. Although you knew your jaw was hanging open you couldn’t hear yourself, but you couldn’t discern if it was due to the ringing in your ears or if you had already screamed yourself hoarse.

As your perception of the world around you slowly returned once you came down from your high, the pleasure subsiding and leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling in its wake, you felt Aemond’s thumb gently stroking your knuckles, having removed his hand from inside you, his other palm spread over your stomach as he helped you coax you back down and when you gazed at him you were met with his gentle smile

“T-thank you, husband.” you said a few moments later after catching your breath, exhaustion starting to settle in your bones as you relaxed over the linens, your head falling back on the bed.

“Oh, you thought I was done with you?” he asked, almost mockingly. Raising your head again you noticed his prior smile had given way to a menacing smirk as he started crawling over you slowly, looking predatory. He covered your body with his once more, and you felt his hardened cock against your thigh, having stimulated himself back to full hardness.

“I don’t intend on letting you leave this bed until I have filled you with my seed over and over and over,” he punctuated each pause with a kiss to your lips as he whispered “that I have made sure it has taken root inside you. We need to produce an heir after all, dear wife.”

High Valyrian translations: - ābrazȳrys - wife - valzȳrys - husband - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - ñuha jorrāelagon - my love or my dear - avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrītsos - I love you, my little dragon - va moriot emagon se va moriot kessa - always have and always will - byka mandianna - little niece - ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria - my wife, my queen - dōna zaldrītsos, jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys - sweet little dragon, dear wife - avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrīzes - I love you, my dragon - avy jorrāelan tolī hae olvie hae konīr issi qēlossās isse se jēdar - I love you as much as there are stars in the sky

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@garden-in-the-rain

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x niece!reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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ginnyruin · 2 months ago

Text

Altered State by ginnyruin announcement:

TL;DR: I’m rewriting my fic and will be posting two chapters a week until we reach the new update, Chapter 55. I’m excited to share the changes, including new characterizations and scenes, and new artwork by Nurchie.

long message:

Hi everyone,

I’ve been working on a rewrite on and off since I took a break last year. There were times when I wasn’t sure I’d continue — burnout can be tough— but revisiting the old chapters slowly drew me back in. What started as fixing a few things I wasn’t happy with eventually turned into a full rewrite.

I initially intended to release Chapter 55 without sharing the rewrite first, especially since I know some readers have been waiting for a continuation of the story. I really didn’t want to disappoint. However, I realized that wouldn’t do the story justice.

I thought it might be best to release two chapters a week until we reach the new content with Chapter 55.

Subscribers on Ao3 won’t be getting any emails about these updates.

Just one email when the fic is first taken out of the collection because Ao3 does that automatically, and another when Chapter 55 goes live. I’ll be updating the date of the fic whenever a new chapter of the rewrite is posted, so it may appear in the tags for anyone who’s looking for it.

I might post update news here... but I really don't want to annoy people.

I won’t be deleting the original chapter webpages (since I deeply treasure your comments), but for now, they’ll serve as temporary pages even if it's empty. I know the word count and chapter count might look odd, but I hope you all understand.

I’ve deleted and rewritten entire chapters, reworked characterizations (Abraxas Malfoy for one, is so much more the original Death Eater you expect him to be). The atmosphere has become a little darker, everyone is slightly more miserable, but there will be some more humor too. While the essence of the story and most of the narrative progression remains the same, it feels like a deeper, more complete version now.

I’m also incredibly excited to share that Nurchie has repainted some of the older artwork, adding new details that reflect how her art and the story have evolved together. She’s also painted some jaw-droppingly gorgeous, brand-new pieces for the rewrite scenes, which I can’t wait for you to see. I’ve been eagerly following her progress with each new piece, and her work never fails to inspire me. She’s also my beta reader and has been such a huge source of encouragement and joy, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Nurchie and I are both doing this purely for the joy of it in our free time. It’s a passion project for us, and we’re genuinely excited to share it with you. We’re not active on social media and aren’t making any money from this. It’s just something we love to create.

Thanks so much for your ongoing support—whether you choose to revisit the rewrite or wait until it’s all finished, or not read the rewrite at all, I truly appreciate every bit of engagement. Your comments and thoughts here and on Ao3 have motivated me more than you know, and I’m excited to share this updated version with you.

#tomione #altered state news

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messedupfan · 2 months ago

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Chapter 23

Summary: In order to have a dating life without the pressure of friends and family knowing, Wanda and Reader plan dates to meet at each other's places for romantic dinners. They tend to dance a lot.

A/n: Sorry y'all meant to post earlier today but had to walk Brady then had to make my food. I apologize for any and all errors, I haven't really been editing the chapters since I've gotten so busy but I LOVE this story sooooo much! I hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alarm on your phone wakes you. It’s early on a Monday morning. The sun isn’t up yet but you have to be in order to make it to the job site at your scheduled time. You wish you could sleep in, but unfortunately you won’t get to do that for the next four mornings. As you yawn and stretch, you feel a hand pull you down. “No,” she groans, making you laugh as you continue to stretch.

“I have work,” you remind her as you fall against her. Feeling your normally tense body relax into her warm embrace. Your muscles feel like jelly and you want to close your eyes for just five more minutes. But you don’t. You just know that those five minutes could be ten, twenty, an hour, or worse.

“No,” she repeats as she snuggles closer, her eyes remaining closed as she does.

“And what do I tell your brother when he calls asking me why I’m not at work?” You ask as you adjust to look at her. Wanda’s hair is a mess, her face is a little puffier than usual, she looks serene. You cup her cheek with your hand and lightly rub your thumb back and forth.

Wanda leans into your touch and a content sigh escapes her lips. “Easy, you don’t answer,” she smirks as she presses her lips to the palm of your jaw. You shake your head with a soft laugh.

“So I shouldn’t tell him that his twin is refusing to let me leave her bed?” you tease and Wanda scrunches her face. She pushes you back and you grin.

“Gross, he’ll think we’re doing a lot more than snuggling and sleeping,” she covers her face as she shakes her head. Then she finally opens her eyes. “Besides, I think that goes against that whole keeping this between us thing.”

You lean in and kiss her cheek, “Exactly, I’m going. Have a good day,” you swiftly move out of the warmth of the cozy bed and her arms and Wanda pouts as you do but she doesn’t put up more of a resistance. She sighs with a slight disappointment this time as the bed grows cool in your absence. She climbs out and stretches as she wakes her body up.

“Are you going to come back tonight?” She asks as she shamelessly watches you undress. The two of you are still waiting to be physically intimate as the two of you continue to develop the emotional intimacy of the relationship in order to build a strong foundation. But as her eyes roam your body, she is beginning to forget why the two of you need to wait in the first place.

You are lost in thought as you change and consider your answer. Uncertain if today is the day you had to pick up Rachel and Jean from the airport. It has been two weeks since the disastrous first date. You and Wanda had your second date on Wednesday of that week then your third and fourth that weekend. The week she had her boys, you needed to work on finishing orders for your side business and Wanda would sneak in from time to time to chat and maybe the two of you even made out a couple of times.

Last night wasn’t a date outside of the house. It wasn’t even meant to be a date. It was a last minute invite and you weren’t up for much because you were working all Saturday and most of yesterday working for a delivery service to help catch up on the bills. “Um, let me check my,” you pick up your phone and look up the flight itinerary for Rachel and Jean. “Yeah, I can come back tonight. I don’t pick up the girls until Thursday… morning? Ugh, that’s going to be brutal. I need to warn your brother.”

Wanda shakes her head with a disgusted expression. “Please, just say boss. It’s hurting my brain how much you have to run by my brother.”

You smile and nod as you pull your work polo over your head and arms and straighten yourself out. “Alright, that’s not a problem,” you walk across the room towards her and wrap your arms around her and give her a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you,” you say.

Wanda scrunches her nose as she catches a whiff of your sour morning breath, but she kisses you again anyway. “I love you and your stinky breath.”

You wink at her with a wide grin before walking to her bathroom to use the toothbrush that you left here the last time. You start brushing your teeth and she follows to brush her teeth at the sink next to the one you’re standing in front of. When the two of you exchange a glance, you wink at her and she shakes her head.

~~~~

Wanda looks at her phone as she receives the last message you’ll be sending her for the rest of the week. Even though it’s the middle of the summer, you are finally taking Rachel on the annual camping trip. “Why do you look upset?” Pietro asks as he tries to look over her shoulder to get a glance at her screen just in case it’s a message from Vision.

Wanda is quick to hide her phone. “Dude! Mind your business!” She says with the screen of her phone pressed against her chest.

“Dude? Really? What are we, twelve?” He shakes his head and grabs a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, when you’re trying to look at my phone and you’re eating like that!” Wanda doubles down and Pietro slows down his chewing but his mouth is still full of chips, giving him chipmunk cheeks.

“What?” He asks dumbly. Wanda shakes her head and looks back at her phone as she tries to think of a response to your message before it’s too late. “This is my house, you know?” Pietro states as he adds the rest of the fist full of chips into his mouth.

Wanda is visiting to finally meet her new niece. She has spent a couple hours doting over the baby while she anxiously checked her phone for messages from you. Now her boys are with their aunt, she is watching them as they each take turns holding the baby in the rocking chair in the nursery. Pietro told her that you had gifted it and Wanda recalls watching you make pieces of the chair but she doesn’t remember seeing you take it out. But it was a sturdy and comfortable chair. She had to hide how proud it made her feel to see the chair you made actually being used and shown off.

“It still amazes me that you ever found someone to love all of this,” Wanda gestures with her hand waving it in a circle of her brother's face and body.

“Whatever, you’re just jealous that I found someone I can be myself with,” he says as he puts his boots on top of the coffee table while crossing his legs.

“Pietro! Get your shoes off of my coffee table!” Crystalia shouts from the other room. “And wipe it down!” She orders.

Pietro quickly drops his feet to the ground and sits up. “Yes dear!” He shouts back as he gets up from the couch. Wanda watches with amusement and Pietro looks at his twin once he’s standing. “Not a word,” he warns. Wanda, unable to help herself, makes a whip sound as she flicks her wrist with a smirk. “I’m going to remember that,” he says as he walks away.

~~~~

The day you come back from the camping trip with Rachel, you're happy to find that Jean has moved out of your apartment. You find your room clean and without a bunch of overflowing luggages scattered on the floors. The bed is made with clean sheets. Your bathroom is clean with no evidence of makeup or used feminine products. The apartment no longer smells like Jean’s perfume. That was the best part. It almost felt like she was spraying it around as a substitute for an air freshener. So to have the apartment smelling like anything but her is a real relief. Rachel is happy to have a clean room to return to as well. The apartment doesn't feel as cramped with the bed in the living room finally folded away.

You call Jean to find out if you should drop Rachel off at her house. But she doesn't pick up the first couple of times. When she finally does, she is irritated and breathless. “Hey, we're back. Do you want me to bring Rach over to you?” You ask, keeping your voice low in case Jean doesn't want Rachel at her house yet.

“Oh shit what day is it?” Jean says and you can hear Anna giggle in the back stating that she doesn't know and doesn't care. You pinch the bridge of your nose as you let her know that it's Sunday. “Right, right, it's my week now. Okay. Yeah, give me…” she mutes herself for a couple of minutes. “Okay, okay, give us a couple of hours. I'll, we'll, the house will be ready. We need to clean up.” She is panting between words and you have to refrain from groaning out of disgust. But it's better off that she's jumping into bed with her wife instead of trying to seduce you.

The night she kissed you wasn't the only time she made a pass at you. She tried a few nights later, while you were asleep. She crawled into the uncomfortable sofa bed with you and snuggled up against you. Her touch woke you up almost instantly and not in the way she preferred. You were repulsed by the idea of ever being with her ever again. You had to explain that to her in detail a couple of times before she finally understood to leave you alone.

You shudder at the memory once you hang up the phone. You tell Rachel to take a nap but you don't tell her that you'll be taking her to her mom's house. You don't want to excite her, she needs to be resting. You step out to your balcony to call Wanda.

“Hello?” Wanda sounds a little out of breath herself.

“Hey,” you say as you try to figure out what she could be doing.

“Y/n! Oh my goodness! You're back earlier than I thought you'd be!” She says excitedly. “Sorry, I'm on my treadmill. I didn't check to see who was calling.” You can hear her press a couple of buttons and the soft hum of the machine in the background slowly comes to an end. “Hey you, how are you doing?” She asks as she is catching her breath. You wish that you could be the reason she is breathless. You wish you were the one entangled with Wanda warning Jean that you need some time before she can drop off Rachel.

“I'm doing good, it was a long drive. I can't wait to see you,” you say as you lean against the railing of the balcony. You look out to the busy view that the location of your apartment building provides you.

“That's sweet,” Wanda sighs and you can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you think you'll get to?”

“Jean moved out when I was gone so I was thinking,” you check over your shoulder to be certain that Rachel isn't within ear shot. “After I drop Rachel off with her mom, maybe I can stop by and see you?”

Wanda takes a moment to answer, you can hear her swallowing her water for a moment. You wait kind of nervously before but maintaining patience. “Just stop by or do you think you can spend the night too?”

Your smile widens. “I could be convinced but I don't know.”

“I missed you,” she says softly. “Come on,” her volume lifts slightly as she pleads with you. “Spend the night with me. Hell, spend the week with me.”

“That's a little fast, don't you think?” The words fall out of you before you could stop them. You're a little surprised that you're thinking about slowing things down between the two of you. All week, the only thing you could think about was being in her bed with her. Laughing with her. Crying with her. Playfully arguing with her. You laugh a little to try and play it off as a joke but you aren't certain if you meant the statement or not.

“Well, considering that we're still waiting,” Wanda speaks slowly, dragging out her words. “I mean, I suppose it's a little fast to have you move in for a week,” she goes quiet for a moment. You are biting your nail on your thumb as you wait for her to continue. “But you know what? I don't care,” her voice sounds more certain, more confident. “I want you here. I want you to go to work and come back here. I want to make dinners with you. I want you here as much as possible.”

You chuckle softly as you think about it. But then decide not to overthink it. You've spent too much time thinking. You want to take this small leap with Wanda. “Alright, I'll pack my bags then,” you state calmly and confidently.

“Wait, are you serious?” She sounds slightly surprised but mostly excited.

“Yeah, I'm serious,” you confirm. “I need to go if I'm going to sneak my bags inside the truck before Rachel can ask me about anything. I'll see you soon. I love you,” you say as you hold the handle of the door so you can enter the bedroom.

“Okay, yeah, I'll see you soon. I love you,” her excitement is contagious as you feel a rush of energy and joy. You can't rid yourself of your wide grin as you hang up and start to get ready for your week with Wanda.

~~~~

“...’Cause you feel like home. You’re like a dream come true,” you hold Wanda close with your eyes closed as the two of you dance to the song. The two of you were enjoying dinner together at her home. She hasn’t let you take her out since you talked to her about your financial situation in depth. Wanda refused to let you do anything to spoil her, especially after how much you spent on her for the first date. You tried to assure her that you budgeted for it but she was adamant that the dates be affordable and that they didn’t need to be of any extravagance.

“Expensive dates aren’t what makes a relationship great anyway. I think we both know that by now. I just want to be able to spend time with you,” she assured you when you were trying to assure her that you don't mind spending money on her.

As the two of you continue to dance around the living room you can't help but think of the first time you and Wanda danced together. In the backyard with the sun setting and a bottle and a half of wine in your systems. Or was it two bottles? You don't remember, but it was a minor detail. What you do remember in detail was how much you wanted to kiss her. How much you wanted to feel connected to her. How much you wanted to be her partner. Now here you are, dancing with her once again. You still feel that way except now, you can kiss her when you want. And you do. Now you feel more connected to her than ever. Now you consider yourself her partner.

“Can you believe it? Our kids are starting middle school soon?” Wanda whispers as her eyes fall on a framed baby photo of her boys as she looks over your shoulder.

You shake your head as you continue to sway with her. “No, I can't believe it. I still keep thinking that Rachel is too young to be moving on to middle school. But she won't stop reminding me with how excited she is about it.”

Wanda takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I keep eavesdropping on the boys because Tommy is constantly talking to Billy about all of the hot girls that are going to be at their middle school.”

You scrunch your face, “Please, he hangs out with my daughter. I need to be able to sleep at night. I beg you, tell me you're lying.”

“Oh come on. They made an entire plan to become siblings. I doubt Tommy or Billy will be looking at Rachel in that way,” Wanda says in a reassuring tone. But there's a hint of doubt in her words because she can't be certain of something like that until you and her reveal the relationship to the kids.

“Oh I'm not worried about Billy. But now I'm going to keep a close eye on Tommy,” you say jokingly and Wanda stops moving with you.

“What?” She steps back slightly. “What do you mean you're not worried about Billy?”

You shrug and shake your head. “No particular reason.”

“Come on,” she presses.

“No, it's nothing. It's just, I don't think Rachel would be his type,” you say as you try to steer away from the conversation. “It's getting late, we should get ready for bed.” You say as you step away and check your watch then find the remote to shut off the music.

“Why wouldn't Rachel be his type?” She doesn’t want to let this go because lately she’s been feeling a little disconnected from her sons. A comment like that gives her the impression that you know something she doesn’t. “What do you know?” Wanda says as she follows closely behind.

“Nothing, I don't know anything,” you say as you shut off lights on the way towards the stairs.

“The way you're saying that makes me feel like you know something,” Wanda continues to pester you for information all the way to the bedroom. You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. Wanda stands in front of you as she waits to hear the answers she's looking for, not allowing you to dismiss the topic of conversation.

“Remember when we sat the kids down and explained my pronouns and what being non-binary means to me?” You ask as you take Wanda’s hands into each of yours. She nods as her eyebrows start to crease. “Well, Billy has had some…” you trail off as you try to search through your vocabulary that will best describe your recent conversations with Billy. “Curiosities lately. I don't know anything for certain. I'm not saying that he is anything. I'm not outting him because he hasn't confirmed anything. The questions could mean absolutely nothing. Just, prepare yourself. Billy might not be… I don't know how to put it. He might not be like Tommy.”

Wanda pulls your interlocked hands up to cover her face. You're a little confused by her exasperated reaction. She’s dating you. She’s been with women in the past. Why would something like her son potentially being queer be upsetting to her. “He is going to have such a hard time at his father's house soon,” she mutters and that's when it clicks for you. She's not upset about her son's sexuality because she wants him to be heterosexual. She's concerned for his well-being in his father's home.

“Did he know that you were queer?” You ask, curious of how they got married if Vision wasn’t as open minded as Wanda.

“Yeah,” she sighs as she drops your laced hands down to her sides. “Don't judge me,” she starts as she keeps her head down, “in my defense I was in my early twenties.” She takes a deep breath and bites her lips. “But he's… he liked that about me because he thinks it's okay for women to be a little more sexually open because he finds it hot. And I didn’t realize how misogynistic and homophobic he was until we found out that we were having two boys.”

You nod slowly as you start to grow worried for Billy as well. You remember how unaccepting your father was of the way you acted while you were growing up. You even remember the advice he'd given you when you told him about getting Jean pregnant. That he wanted you to quit being so “frilly” and to start acting like the child he wanted. That life is already confusing enough for a child, they don’t need to have a parent that lives a confusing lifestyle.

He's only now starting to come around to the idea of you not being the gender conforming person he always wanted you to be. But you could handle his criticisms and his comments about you. Billy is a sweet and sensitive boy and Vision is a lot tougher on his boys than your father ever was.

“What do you think we should do?” You ask Wanda as you let go of her hands and stand up to wrap your arms around her and pull her body close. Wanda melts in your arms and with her eyes closed she leans her forehead against your shoulder. She breathes you in as your words hit her. Just the simple way you asked the question made her feel more supported than years in her marriage did.

You rub her back as you wait for her answer. Your mind races with solutions but none of them being helpful or worth suggesting. “I don't know,” Wanda finally says. “I guess it's just…” she shakes her head and leans back to look at you. “It's just one of those things that's out of my hands. I can't keep Billy away from his father. And I hardly know what's going on at that house. He's finally convinced them to stop telling me what goes on over there. So, I'm just going to have to be sure that he knows he can be free to be himself here.”

You nod and press your lips to her forehead before leaning your forehead against hers. “He's going to be okay,” you assure her. Wanda’s hands move to your shoulders and gives them a light squeeze.

“I hope you're right,” she says with a lump forming in her throat.

~~~~

You are sitting with Steve and Bucky in Steve's apartment. You have finally forgiven Steve for not talking to you about his relationship with Peggy and Bucky and Natasha. After starting your private relationship with Wanda, you could understand why he was private with the development in his life.

Steve was going through a lot that he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be public. First, he and Peggy had given up on the relationship. But they were sticking together for appearances but they were miserable around each other. You weren't the best at giving relationship advice and completely missed that Steve wanted out of the relationship whenever he tried to talk to you about it.

Then he met Bucky and felt an attraction that he'd never felt before towards a man. It confused him and while he dealt with those feelings, Peggy could feel him pulling away and eventually she got tired of fooling herself. They were private people as it was so there wasn't a big announcement of their split of any kind. That's where you thought that your friend had been cheating on his partner of several years.

You felt like a shit when you realized that you weren't there for your friends as they navigated new feelings towards one another. But Steve and Bucky assured you that they didn't bring it up to you because of the problems you were facing at the time. And that they preferred to talk about it with each other. Then Darcy caught on and it was easier to come out to her since she didn't make a big deal out of it.

Then you asked about Bucky’s girlfriend because he was also in a relationship with a woman by the time he met Steve. That's when he revealed that they were still figuring that out because Steve also had feelings towards Natasha. But they all felt weird about the “throuple” label. Steve especially wasn't prepared to deal with the backlash of coming out as possibly bi-sexual and then add being possibly polyamorous to that. He was already disowned from the majority of his family for dropping out of the military. He couldn't risk losing the family he had left. So, officially, he is single. But unofficially, he is seeing both Bucky and Natasha. Sometimes separately and sometimes together.

“No way, Nat and Wanda?” You ask as you pop another beer open. You are shocked to hear about the relationship from someone other than Wanda. But you knew she felt some shame over the amount of people she was hooking up with. You try to tell her that it doesn't bother you but she still feels a type of way about the behavior. You hope that when you're finally able to be physically intimate with her that you'll be able to help her see that it wasn't wrong for her to explore her sexuality the way she had.

Bucky nods, “Oh yeah, she told me everything. I couldn't believe it either. I mean, I've only met Wanda less than a handful of times but I never thought she was the type. She broke poor Nat’s heart.”

Your eyes widen, “Really? Wow, I had no idea. I thought they seemed a little weird towards each other at the New Year's Eve party. But honestly, knowing her ex-husband, I thought maybe Nat had been with him and Wanda knew.” You tip the bottle against your lips as you make a mental note to talk to Wanda about Natasha. “It's crazy how much we can miss about each other’s lives if we're not on each other twenty four seven.”

Steve and Bucky share a laugh as they agree and drink their beers. “Yeah, I think Darcy mentioned that Jean was living with you for some time. How was that?” Steve asks, he's never gotten along with Jean and he never bothered to get to know Anna. Although she would try to approach him in conversation at gatherings that you'd host. That's where Peggy would come in and either take over the conversation or come up with an excuse to get him away from her.

You groan at the memory as you nod to confirm. “It was starting to feel like she was never going to leave. It wasn't a fair situation and I was not about to let Anna get the house. If they went through with a divorce. But they seemed to have patched things up and Anna is treating Rachel like she's her daughter again. I don't know. The whole thing has put a bad taste in my mouth but I can't do anything about what they do. I can only do my best to protect Rachel.”

Steve shakes his head and mutters insults about the women to himself. You don't catch half of it and you don't ask him to repeat himself. Bucky shakes his head and scoffs. “I couldn't do it. You're a tough one for putting up with all of that, Y/n,” Bucky commends you as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

You shrug, “It's not easy but that's what you agree to when you have kids. When there was a choice, that is.” All three of you shake your heads and take a sip of beer before you continue. “I don't know that I'd recommend it but Rachel is great. She's far from being the problem. Every family has their issues and I guess that's what makes them family.” You sigh deeply as you look at the screen. The three of you were watching some show on a streaming network that had just released its most recent season. Well, more like it's releasing its most recent season weekly. You don't like that they started to do that but it did help bring you and Steve back together because it's a show that the two of you have watched together since it came out. Now you're here every week on the night the latest episode is uploaded. The three of you pay attention to the rest of the episode as you push away the image of Natasha and Wanda out of your mind.

~~~~

“I just want to know why you didn't tell me it was Nat that you were seeing last summer,” you ask as you follow Wanda to your bedroom. She wanted to see what it would be like to live with you for the week in your space. It's been a few weeks since that night at Steve's apartment. You haven't brought it up to Wanda until now because you were keeping it out of your mind. Then, somehow, you don't really remember how… it got brought up.

“Because, it's embarrassing! Besides, you don't see me asking about everyone you ever slept with!” Wanda says as she waves her hands around.

“That's because you've already met them all,” you remind her with the same energy she was throwing at you.

“So what, are you calling me a whore now?” She asks with a pointed look.

“What?! How the hell did you get that idea?” You are thrown off by the accusation.

“You're not denying it,” Wanda states defensively.

You shake your head. “No, I'm not calling you a whore because I don't think you're a whore. I just…” you take a moment to think before you speak and make things worse. “You don't have to talk about every hook up. I would just like a heads up whenever I meet them. Or at least if I meet them around you. Like what happened with that one waitress. Did I get upset with you and call you a whore then?” You use your first date as an example because you felt like you handled that pretty well.

Wanda looks away and bites her lips in thought. “No, but how do I know that you weren't thinking it?” She asks as crosses her arms over her chest.

“Because, Wanda, you are supposed to trust me when I tell you that I love you and that I don't judge you. Especially for things you did before we started dating.” You step closer in an attempt to disarm her. You gently place both of your hands on her shoulders and gaze into her big green eyes full of insecurities. “I don't judge you, Wanda. I don't think you're a whore, Wanda. I love you, Wanda.” You move your hands up to cup her cheeks and hold her head in your hands.

Wanda melts to your touch and untangles her arms. She puts her hands on your waist and clutches the fabric of your shirt. Tears spring to her eyes as you maintain your eye contact. Your tone not wavering once. She has no choice but to listen and believe you.

“You better mean that,” she says as her tears start to uncontrollably fall. You pull her close in a tight embrace to hold her while she breaks down. Free to cry in front of you and process her emotions in your arms. You love her and show her as much as you continue to listen and try to understand where she was coming from when she got upset.

~~~~

Pietro sits back in his lounge chair as he observes you and Wanda at the grill. It's the end of summer and Wanda thought it would be a good idea to host an end of summer party for the kids. She invited everyone in her inner circle. Agatha and her son Nicholas, Carol and Val, him and his family, and you and your daughter. You and Wanda were chatting quietly to one another while Wanda grilled the meat options. There was something different about the two of you. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Crystalia bounces Emma in her arms as she returns to Pietro's side. “What are you staring at?” She asks her husband as she sits on the chair beside his.

“Do they seem… closer?” He asks his wife. Pietro wasn't typically one to gossip or speculate but he knows he can trust his wife with his thoughts.

Crystalia shakes her head. “Oh no, don't go there again. Come on, it was bad enough you lost money over a stupid bet. Just, leave your sister alone. You know how she can be. Even if there is something to talk about, she's not going to do it if you go badgering her about her personal life.” Then she looks over at you and Wanda and notices the way you're standing close to her in-law. She catches onto the way the two of you smile at each other. How Wanda's eyes flit to your lips and how yours do the same. “Huh, at best they're hooking up,” she says to confirm her husband's suspicions.

Pietro sits up and takes off his sunglasses. “So you see it too?” He looks like he's about to get up and say something to the couple they're spying on. So Crystalia places Emma in Pietro's hands. “Crys, I can't just let this go. Y/n is my friend, yes, but they're also my employee. This… I have to put a stop to this or do something.” He looks down at the little girl in his hands as she giggles and slobbers on herself. He grins at her then gives his wife a pointed look.

“Pietro, Y/n is your employee but Wanda isn't. They're not breaking any rules. Besides, we don't know anything for certain. Just,” she sighs and gets settled into her seat. “Just relax and leave them alone. They're both adults. And it's not like you haven't said before that you would be thrilled if they got together because you like Y/n and think they'd be perfect together. Honestly, if they did get together, it'd probably be your fault to begin with.”

Pietro makes a face at the accusation and Emma giggles as she reaches out to touch her father's face. “What are you talking about?”

Crystalia shrugs, “When Rachel was having problems in school, you suggested that Y/n put her in the same school our nephews attend. And you know how involved that school requires parents to be.”

Pietro shrugs, “It's a really good school. That doesn't mean anything.”

Crystalia doesn't buy it. “Oh yeah? Was it really a coincidence that you started to put together company events right after Wanda and Vision split up? No one invited their siblings to those things unless they work for the company but you were constantly inviting Wanda.”

“She was having a hard time. I thought she could’ve used a reason to get out of the house. She only went to one of those things anyway. And Y/n couldn't even show up to that event,” Pietro defends and his wife scowls.

“You can't remember our anniversary but you can remember that?” Crystalia asks, only to prove her point. Pietro shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “When Wanda needed work to be done on the house, you asked Y/n to help you. I know you keep saying that it's because they're the best worker or whatever, but you literally could've patched up the wall by yourself. And you would've never acted on extending the house without the appropriate permits the way you did.”

Pietro shakes his head as he continues to deny this theory his wife has about him essentially being a puppet master for you and his sister. “Okay, I don't think they're together, you just made me realize how crazy I sounded. Because you sound completely mental.”

“Don't call me mental in front of our daughter,” Crystalia warns.

“I'm sorry, you're right. Mommy isn't mental Emma,” he whispers to his daughter. She pats his face and starts to tug on his facial hair. He chuckles as he looks up at his wife. “But you've got to admit, you're giving me a lot more credit than I'm worth. You really think I'm that thoughtful?” Crystalia can't help but agree with that statement and decides to drop the subject altogether.

~~~~

You and Wanda are lounging on her sofa. You are lying vertically on the part of the couch that extends forward. Wanda is lying horizontally along the length of the sofa with her head in your lap. You have your fingers in her hair as you periodically massage her scalp. As the movie begins to lose her attention, she looks up at you and starts to watch you watch the movie. You're zeroed in and completely focused on the plot. She doesn't know how you could find such a movie interesting but she doesn't mind watching you this way instead.

You don't realize that Wanda's focus is on you until you feel something lightly tickling your stomach. You look down and notice that Wanda is trying to lift your shirt up. “What are you doing?” You ask, startling her slightly. She looks up at you with wide eyes from being caught.

“Nothing,” she shrugs as she removes her hand from your shirt and looks up at you.

“You wanted to watch this movie, remember?” You remind her with a teasing tone.

“Yeah, well, I lost interest,” she says as she sits up. She moves so that she's sitting on her knees. Wanda bites her bottom lip as she looks at you. “Besides, we've watched plenty of movies together. I think I'm in the mood for something else.” She says as she inches closer to you. She puts her hand on your chest and you raise your eyebrows at her.

“Do you want to put on some music and dance?” You ask, not wanting to read too much into her touch and actions. But she shakes her head as she maintains eye contact and moves to lock her arms around your neck. “Do you think we're ready for that?” You ask as you catch onto what she's getting at.

“I'm ready,” she says as she kisses your cheek. “Are you?” She says as she crawls onto your lap. You don't have to give her much of a verbal answer because you can feel that burning desire growing in your body. A desire you haven't felt for anyone before. Even the desire you had for Jean when you were a teenager pales in comparison. You kiss Wanda’s lips and place your hands on her hips.

“I'm ready,” you say in a harsh whisper. Wanda giggles as she had already gathered that much. She has her hands on your cheeks to keep you close and pull you in to continue kissing you. As her hands hold you steady, your hands begin to explore her body. Your touch is almost as greedy as a teenager experiencing something like this for the first time. Yes, you've touched her body many times since the two of you have started dating. But not like this. Not without restrictions. You are free to explore her however you want and that notion has you aimless with excitement. You don't know where to start first or where to keep your hands. You have to remind yourself that there is plenty of time to explore every inch of her. If not tonight then another night.

Wanda breaks the kiss and crawls off of your lap and stands up. She looks down at you with a grin. She tips her head towards the stairs. “Come on,” she invites you with her hand out to you.

You shuffle off of the sofa and rise. You take her hand and all her to guide her towards her room to finally cross the line both of you have been painstakingly avoiding until now.

Chapter 24

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lemonlover1110 · 7 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 24] The Truth

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.

“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”

“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.

Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.

“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”

“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”

“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.

“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”

“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”

“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”

“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.

You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.

You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance.

You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.

In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.

Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.

“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.

“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.

“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now.

“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”

And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.

“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?

“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.

“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”

“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.

“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.

“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.

“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.

“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,

“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”

“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”

“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say.

“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.

“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.

“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”

“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”

He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse.

“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time.

“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”

“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.

“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?

“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.

You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.

You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”

“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”

“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,

“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”

You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions.

You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”

“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”

“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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greentrickster · 1 year ago

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Okay, all you aspiring writers out there following my blog listen up, I’m about to lore drop something y’all may need to hear.

Now, I’m a Writer, capital letter and everything. It’s not my profession, it’s just what I am, simple as that. I’m thirty-five as I type this, and I’ve been writing for twenty-three of those years. Made the shift from someone who just does essays and stories and stuff for school to someone who Writes when I was twelve and decided, “I am going to write a Novel.”

Which I did.

Took me four years to finish, a hundred pages on Microsoft Word, single space, because that’s how long I thought it needed to be if it was going to be a novel.

And, y’all.

It’s bad.

Like, so bad.

Like, “I’m not even going to tell you what it’s about, only that it exists, this is a chapter of my life to be mentioned in passing, you will see no more, the way is shut, it was made by the dead and the dead keep it” levels of bad.

While I was doing this, I also wrote a lot of poetry. Some of that was okay. One of my ADHD powers is having a very good ear for both rhyme and rhythm, which is enough to get you labeled as the class poet in 5th grade.

You won’t be seeing any of that either.

It’s not on par with the novel, but like... no one needs to be exposed to my teen-years poetry with the knowledge that that’s what it is.

Being a 1988 model, I didn’t discover fanfiction until about 2006. I was eighteen. The first thing I wrote was an absolute crack!fic that people enjoyed at the time, but which none of you will ever see without accessing the dark web or something similar because I’ve removed it from the legitimate internet. In fact, maybe just kind of treat anything of mine that I wrote before 2010 with extreme caution. And, even then, it’s not until 2014 that we get to my works that are still online which I look back at and go, “That? I’m still really proud of.”

It wasn’t until 2015/2016 that I started seeing myself not as someone who wanted to be a writer, but who already was one.

And it wasn’t until I was a decent start into writing my second mega!fic in 2020 that I looked down and realized that I might be writing something really special. Something that I was so proud of that I didn’t care that it was fanfiction, I was willing to talk to random people about it, because I felt so good and confident about what I was writing.

And that’s actually the point I’m trying to make. When people like me say, “Oh yeah, I’ve been writing for twenty-three years,” it’s not a statement of “Lol, I’m better than you, I’ve been at the top of my game forever, you’ll never catch up.” It’s a statement of, “Writing is a cumulative activity. If I’m good now, it’s because I’ve been doing this for a very long time, maybe longer than you’ve been alive. Look at where twenty-three years of work and practice have gotten me. And, much more importantly... think about where you are right now, and where twenty-three years of work, practice, and life experience will get you.”

Because there are a lot of young writers who I would absolutely consider my equals, don’t think I don’t see you there on AO3 and other places! And that’s what I always wonder when I think of how old you are compared to how old I am. Many of you are so much farther along the path of honing your skills than I was at your age... how much farther along will you be when you’re my age? Keep working at it and you’ll only get better, gain more polish, shine brighter. So many of you are already gems, and it’s my very dear hope that I’ll get to watch you become stars.

#writing stuff #writing advice #writers

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 4 months ago

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OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No…that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp’s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

#one piece #opla #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #monkey d. garp #garp #bogard #red hair pirates #shanks #fan fiction #one piece fan fiction #fanfic #one piece fanfic #flightrisk

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knightyoomyoui · 6 months ago

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[COMMISSION] LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT | TWICE x Male Reader | CHAPTER 1: "A Nightmarish First Encounter"

Welcome to another brand new TWICE fic series of mine! This story will serve both as an adaptation and a soft reboot of the TWICE horror-comedy book titled “Living With Vampires” written by SaiDaChae29 published in 2020 which was sadly left discontinued until this day. For this one, it scrapped some of the parts from the original while others were kept and applied changes which will lead to its direct continuation. Special mention also to @nchris00 who ordered a commission and entrusted me to recreate this interesting story as his request. Hope this one won’t disappoint! Thank you so much again! -> Read the PROLOGUE here <- “LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT” By knightyoomyoui Commissioned by: @nchris00 Part: CHAPTER 1 : "A Nightmarish First Encounter" Word Count: 5,879

2 YEARS AGO

I knocked at the house where there was an old man living in there that I used to help throwing the garbage every night. As he opened the door, he greeted me with a curious gaze as soon as he saw me standing in front of his doorway.

“Jeonghoon? What is it?”

“Uhh hey pops uhm… I was just wondering if you have some extra food left there?” It took some courage to ask that from him, since this is my first time begging from somebody straight into their home for some food to eat. Also, I just did this now from him because he only just know me as a hobo who helps people throw trash in their neighboorhood.

“I already ate the leftovers that I collected few days ago so… if you won’t mind, can I-”

“You came at the right time, Jeonghoon. Ofcourse I will.” He nodded understandably after cutting off my words. I didn’t find it disrespectful at all now that he responded the same thing I was expecting for him to say to me.

He left me in his doorway to grab something from his kitchen. I heard some metal clanging and probably procelains, maybe grabbing something from the plates. I was curious but I remained in his doorway, without any intention to come inside and do something that would break his trust.

Because I will never do that. I may have know how it feels to lose something… but just because it happened worse to me that doesn’t mean I have to make others feel what I felt.

It’s painful, enough to have your life get destroyed in an instant.

Which is what I’ve been going through these days. Imagine I was having these things for me too until that person I thought would be the nicest one among everyone took it all away from me and didn’t spare nothing.

I didn’t noticed I was too occupied at my thoughts when pops here even had to pat my chest twice to steal my attention. “Hey, are you okay young guy? You must be spacing out.”

“Oh u-uhm… I-I’m really sorry pops, I didn’t heard what you said.”

“No don’t worry, I just called your name repeatedly and you can’t hear me, so I checked up on you and I found you hear staring at nothing.” The old man waves it off for me. I looked at his hands and he was carrying a tupperware of the food he cooked for dinner.

“I cooked too much that I wasn’t able to finish it all, that’s why I said that you came here at the right time because I feel a bit dismayed at leaving this extra for tomorrow.” Pops said to me. He handed it to me and I accepted it.

“Do you want to eat here?”

“I would be honored, pops but I think i’m fine out there. I would like to grab some fresh air afterwards.”

He nodded and he took my answer well. “Okay, eat well Jeonghoon.”

“Thanks a lot again, pops. Good night.”

“You too, kid.”

I bowed again to double the respect I have for his kindness and he smiled softly for me because I helped him close the door. I looked at the beef steak he has for me and probably this is the first day since I lost a home that I smiled with pure genuine.

I looked for some spare bench here along the road and thankfully I found one where I can sit and enjoy this meal I have tonight. I opened the container and smelled the food, oh it was surely mouth-watering and fragrant.

I prayed as my gratitude to have this kind of food despite of my poor situation. Without wasting much time, I grabbed the spoon he gave for me and I ate my dinner in less than three minutes, an effect of the hunger I was tried to hold onto since earlier.

After I finished my dinner, I went to my scraps to place this in a plastic so that I can return this to pops tomorrow. Then I went back at the spot where I decided to sleep along with my carton as my sleeping mat to make myself more comfortable.

I laid on the couch and stared at the stars above, deeply wondering what the future still awaits for me even after my life had its rock bottom state. Will I still be able to save myself and get back up to slowly reclaim what I never lost in the first place or… if I will be lucky…

Is there someone else out there who will be willing to lend me a hand and assist me with it?

I don’t know exactly, but not gonna lie I don’t lose hope yet. Well, I just think that’s what I should do while I’m still breathing and living you know? I don’t want to waste this opportunity yet, that’s why i have to find a way to look for something that will add more purpose of why i’m living right now.

I still believe that just because we lost something in our life doesn’t mean we remain worthless forever.

Anyways, enough of these deep thoughts. I just want to relax myself and call this a day. I just hope there’s a karma awaiting for that person who made me like this. There’s no instances that someone can just ran away freely after doing something reckless to others who did nothing wrong to them.

I closed my eyes and breathe deeply before I let my body soak into slumber.

However, few hours later I suppose, well since I don’t have a watch or a clock -I do have my phone with me but it’s still lowbat since I didn’t get to have my charger with me when I got abandoned-, my ears caught something irritating that woke my senses back up even if it doesn’t want to yet since it’s still midnight.

It was gibberish loud and since it’s slightly audible, I can tell that those noises were coming just nearby from me. I slowly opened my eyes and I blinked rapidly as I try to hear the noises again that caused my peaceful sleep to be rudely interrupted.

I groaned as my reaction before I stood back up. The sound became much clearer now, and I grabbed some of the words they’re talking about. Not being overly interested in gossips, but I do caught that they’re talking about ‘paying something because it’s already due’ thingie.

I looked around to find out what it is, and what I saw didn’t gave me a surprise, it just explained why the sound was so close to me.

There are three kids being cornered by a tandem of intimidating guys cornering them from left to right as they ask them about something.

They’re too busy at what they’re talking about so I tried to hid myself from the nearby lamppost to eavesdrop their conversation more.

“That’s a part of our deal, and we told you that each of us would respect our rules and roles here. We let you borrow our money… and you have to pay us back on the due date.” The guy on the right said, and he’s talking directly at that tallest kid who looks like he’s protecting those two little kiddos he has with him from them.

“I’m telling you sir please, I’m going to pay for it I know about that! It’s just that what I’ve been saving as of now isn’t enough yet to reach that amount.” He replied while trembling in fear.

“And do you think it’s a good thing that even if you don’t want your deadline to pass, you have no choice but to let it? Do we look like we are nice enough to give a second chance?” The left guy said, stepping forward to scare the three kids more.

I understood their situation now. So this kid took a loan agreement with them and these guys are the sharks who are trying to collect the money they gave to the kid as per the agreement says. I get it that they’re just following the rules but… does it really have to come this way?

“Look kid, you better do something right now to pay what you requested for us or else… we are the ones who will look for an alternative.”

“And hey man, I think I know what we should took rather.” He grinned evilly at his partner on the right before his sight landed on the kids.

He tried to reach the arm of that little guy but the tallest one sways his hand away to avoid having contact with the kid. “Get your hands off from them!”

Wait… oh no, are they thinking about the kids being the substitute payment for this guy’s balance?

“Then pay us right now or else you won’t be going to see these rats ever again!”

“No please, I’m begging you leave them out of this!” He shook his head and tried to rid them away while pleading for mercy.

“Shut up!” The left dude pulled his wavering hand at them and shoo-ed him away from the kids. My eyes largened and felt nervous for this guy and what these dudes would do to the poor kids who are crying now in fear.

“THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!!”

“WELL THEY ARE NOW, BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT THEM INTO THIS MESS YOU SHOULD’VE AVOIDED IF ONLY YOU COULD’VE PAID US!” The right dude locked his grip on this kid’s slim arm. It tried to force himself out of the hold until this kid tried to bit his knuckle, making the dude scream in pain.

“AAAAISSSHHH, YOU LITTLE DEVIL!” He shook his hand before looking at the kid dangerously and unexpectedly slapped its face.

“No… NO!!!” The guy tried to approach the dude but he only received a huge blow onto his midsection, shutting him off.

I couldn’t take this sight anymore, so I have to do something for these younglings. I know I’m not that much of a skilled person when it comes to self-defense or challenging somebody in a combat but… I can’t just let these kids to end up somewhere with fate unknown in the hands of these bastards.

Stupidly, I quickly went out of my hiding and tensely approached the dudes who are double-teaming the tall guy before they try to bring the kids with them. I noticed also that the black van that is parking on the side of the road belongs to them.

“HEY! Didn’t you heard what he said!” My puny self yelled at them with bent toughness. “He said they have nothing to do with your problem, so leave them alone!” I said while I eyed the kids who are looking at me right now with their pitiful watery eyes.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just a random guy on the streets that you two bitchasses ruined his sleep with your annoying rumblings.” I said with much confidence with them. This is the hilarious thing about me, I’m so brave at trashtalking bullies but when they come at me, I’m like a flower who easily covers itself for protection.

In short, I don’t know how to fight back with fists. Great.

“Well, is that so? We don’t give a shit about your beauty sleep, so turn around now, mind your business and you can get yourself back to your little sleep because we’re almost done here. How about that?” The left dude said as he tugged the hair of the tall guy’s hair, making him yelp at the sting it must have caused on his scalp.

I hissed irritably at the stubbornness of this loser. I sighed deeply then went back to arguing with them when I noticed that the dudes were about to carry the kids with them through the van. The tall guy looked at me, crying and pleaded.

“Please… mister… they can’t get away…”

“TYLER!!!” An old man suddenly shouted this guy’s name. I saw that he just came out of the door from this huge looking place. Then I figured out it’s name plastered on top of the entrance.

“ORPHANAGE”

Wait a minute? Orpha- so these kids are orphans? Now I know why this Tyler guy is so protective with these kids and highly concerned for them. Plus, their home is actually just right in front of them! That means they were about to head home when these bad dudes blocked them off from doing so.

“HEY, W-WHERE ARE THEY TAKING THEM!” The old guy saw the dudes carrying the kids who are crying and trying to wiggle off in their arms to escape.

I looked at them and breathe drelpy before I let my urges control me.

I ran immediately and just before they’re about to open the sliding door of their van, I pushed them both off into the ground, while apologetically involving the kids on the ground. I just thought that it’s the better way to stop them by getting distracted at the kids bodies colliding with them as they fall.

“GO, RUN!” I commanded the kids who were a bit confused at what I just did. I looked at both of them and they got my signal. They stumbled to stand but luckily they are able to ran back from Tyler and the old man.

“You son of a bitch, look what you just did!” The dude who is laying down beneath me suddenly kicked me on the leg, effectively making me kneel on the ground at how painful it is to endure while standing.

As I was busy seething off the pain, the other dude took the advantage by blowing me in the back of the head with his hammered fists. I faceplanted on the ground and then I felt my entire body filled with shots coming from their attacks.

They kicked me with pure despise. It stopped for a while until I felt by body getting rolled and face up, the dude straddled me and gave me repeated punches to the face before my sight went blurred and complete black.

My eyes suddenly sprung up, and what greeted me was a view of a girl who seemed like she flinched a little when my eyes opened. Her head is upside down, so I figured that she’s looking at me from the edge of… wait, am I laying down on a couch?

“Jihyo-unnie! There’s a man sleeping on our couch!!!” The girl suddenly shouted for her Jihyo-unnie. I guess that was her sister or something but hold up, where was I?!

I made the hardest and most painful sat-up I ever did in my entire life, as I feel like my abdomen are tightening while I’m doing it. My head also feels a little dizzy so I groaned and hold it for support before I turned around.

And where the hell was I? Why am I in a very cozy looking room filled with women sitting around in front of me.

What I first noticed was the girl who is staring at me upside down, she is indeed on the edge of the couch on my side looking suspicious at me with her knitted brows.

Then on the other hand was the rest of the girls with her. The first one is wearing a purple T-shirt with a girl character on its chest, she’s watching the TV in the floor along with the pale-looking girl who I can almost compare her similarity to Snow White because of how bright her skin was.

The other ones on the couch were this girl with long legs, wolfcut haired, and in black t-shirt building a Lego figure on a table and the one beside her is a very gorgeous looking one with uhm… enticing thighs, sitting like a ball and very focused on her phone.

I seriously don’t know who are these girls and why did I end up here, but for now I’ll just leave what will happen to me based on their actions… but ofcouse that doesn’t mean I won’t do something about it.

“W-who are you?” I asked the long-hair girl with tattoos. “And how did I end up here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing about you, Mr. Nobody.” She crossed her eyes and popped the bubble gum she was chewing. “We just woke up and I just went down when we found you here laying so comfortably here in our dorm like it’s yours.”

Dorm?

Where in the blue hell am I actually am right now, seriously?

“What did you say? A dorm?” I asked her again.

“Yeah! Are you deaf or something?”

“I seriously don’t know this place. I don’t even have any idea why I’m here!” I felt embarassed when my raising voice accidentally caught the other girl’s attention, and now they’re looking at me with curiousity.

“Oh, he’s awake!” The girl in purple said. She doesn’t seemed to be frightened that a stranger is on a room with her friends, she rather sounds glee about it.

“Look wait, let me explain-”

“Tell that to her instead.” Chaeyoung flicked her head back when she sensed that a footstep is growing near from us. “Jihyo- unnie!!!”

“Yes yes I’m coming Chae, jeez.” This Jihyo said to her, sounding like she’s so done at this girl’s whiny voice. Oh, didn’t I just heard this tattoo girl’s name to be Chae?

While i was awaiting at this Jihyo’s arrival, Chae decided to scare me off with her gesturing me with her index finger that tells me I’m screwed… which was kinda effective and not at the same time because I don’t even know what this Jihyo can do and… her giving death warning isn’t suitable for a short girl like her with cute features.

I gulped but I hid my nervousness by glancing at her cluelessly at her. Then, a figure stood beside Chae, a short-girl one with large round eyes, almost had me questioning if she’s actually Korean or she’s half.

She was about to ask Chae but her eyes landed at me and just like how Chae greeted me when I woke up, she shared the same judgmental look.

“Who are you and what are you doing here in our place?”

“You asked exactly the same thing as this girl right here.” I pointed at Chae. “And I can’t give the answer as for you too, because I don’t even know how did I end up here.” I shrugged.

“Are you sure about that?” She raised her eyebrow to me, unsure if I was speaking the truth.

“She’s probably speaking lies, Jihyo-unnie! Who knows, maybe this idiot is an intruder!”

“Intruder?! I don’t even know how to lockpick or climb walls!” I said to this brat over here as I felt offended.

“Well guessing from that look of yours and how mysterious your identity are, you should be considered as one.” She traced my appearance from head and toe, as if she’s wondering why such a being like me is existing in this world.

“Look, I’m not as dumb as you think I am. I am very aware that such a hobo like me wouldn’t have even a slightest chance to enter or hell, own a dorm such luxurious as this!”

“Both of you, silence your mouths!” Jihyo stops me and Chae from having a war of words. “Chaeyoung is right, you better give us something you know or else we don’t have a choice but to call security and forcefully get you out of here.”

“Wait wait, I don’t know how but I’ll just tell you instead what I know!” I paused her after this irritating Chaeyoung even handed Jihyo her phone. She’s so obvious of making me look like I’m not very welcome here in their territory.

“But first uhm… where is your bathroom?” I said as my expression softened after sheepishly admitting that the nature is calling for my reproductive organs to release something in effect of my hydration.

“And what are you gonna do in there?” Jihyo questions me.

“She’s probably gonna try to run away, Jihyo unnie! Quick girls, block the-”

“I JUST WANT TO HAVE A BATHROOM BREAK, PLEASE.” I said as I hold my kidney spot tight, constricting my legs as I hold on my pee.

“Oh.” Jihyo reacted. “Cmon, Chae as if he’s gonna be out here by his own. Our lock is equipped with passcode remember?” She said as she patted Chaeyoung’s shoulder who seems sulking that she was proven wrong. “Anyways, the bathroom is on the right, you can see the hallway down here.”

“T-thanks”, I immediately stood up and bowed at them thankfully before I went for the location of it.

As I already reached the kitchen which is where the hallway that Jihyo mentioned was near at, I noticed that there’s another girl coming from upstairs coming rushing down and went for the fridge. She even ignored me as she just passed by at me.

I just gave her the same treatment and walked through the bathroom door but just as I was about to grab the knob and opened it, I heard what she said from behind that grabbed my attention.

“Ahhh… oh a fresh blood in the morning after a hangover is incomparably great!”

I turned my body around slowly to look at Nayeon after what she just said, just want to confirm it if she’s joking or something.

But what I found out after was instead something much more serious to be like that.

I saw Nayeon holding a transparent pitchel filled with red substance on it while gulping its content with a glass on her other hand. She was kneeling in front of the open fridge.

It was like in the movies where a protagonist gets a camera shot where his or her figure gets zoomed in while the background shrinks as soon as that character finds something mind-blowing, that’s what it looked like to mr when I felt chills in my body.

“Nayeon, hurry up! I want that blood already!”

How in the fuck can they just pronouce that they are consuming blood so casually?! It’s nit even normal at all?!

Or else…

As Nayeon followed the voice where it came from, she caught my figure standing in the middle of the hallway, watching her in horror at the strange act she’s doing. I wished she didn’t even stopped, because she terrified me further when she leans away the glass from her, revealing her blood stained mouth.

“What the fuck… are you?”

She stood up and left the kitchen as she starts walking towards me. I hurriedly turned the doorknob but it was locked. My heart beats even faster as I got confused and even more desperate to get myself away from this bloodlust woman.

It only stopped when my vision went back to pitch black as I couldn’t control my movement anymore.

I have no idea how long I snapped out, but in an instant i just recovered my consciousness back in this comfy couch again. This time, they aren’t around to be seen in what it seems to be their living room. However, I heard clanging noises from the back, I peeked to see what it is and there they actually are, all seated on their dining table with plates and foods all around their table.

The wolfcut girl was distributing the spoons for her roommates while the short-haired woman was assisting her on scooping up the foods for them. I was just silently watching them when someone caught.

“You’re back.” A girl that I haven’t seen yet spoke me as she faced her sitting posture onto me.

I just stared at us and she probably figured out that I haven’t met or know her yet. She chuckled and smiled as she realized it. “Join us.”

Her soft voice and elegant moves piqued my interest on her. She looks so gentle and very nice to get along with. Out of all the girls who I saw, my attention was pinned sharply at her. She just lets out an unexplainable aura that carries me to her.

I nodded and I stood up, which again caught their focus. Chaeyoung’s bright face turned back into an intense and angsty mood when she noticed me back alive again. Jihyo just looked at me seriously but my eyes averted more at this girl named Nayeon who was somehow avoiding her face at me.

I felt my heartbeat quicken again which caused my head to ache and feel a bit dizzy. I almost stumble but thankfully, the wolfcut girl caught my back. “You okay?”

“My head is a bit spiraling, but I’m good.”

“Yeah it’s better to eat first. I’ll give you a medicine after.”

She was about to direct me to their table but then I refused. “S-sorry, but can I go now? I don’t even have to be here, I’m sorry again for the incovenience that I caused-”

“Don’t disrespect unnie like that, now follow her and sit with us!” I didn’t expected that those inviting words, even though they were sounded a bit rude… came from Chaeyoung herself. I looked at her with shame and I just nodded in defeat. I don’t even want to try making this girl’s blood boil more if I already feeling weak.

Oh, great. Speaking about the blood.

As I slowly make my seat, my eyes are still staring at Nayeon who seems uncomfortable now with my look. I try to stop it but at the same time I’m just completely puzzled and disgusted at what I caught from her earlier.

“You can join us for breakfast, because what we learned about you gave me a bit of an assurance that there’s nothing wrong with you.” Jihyo said as she grabbed her spoon and fork before she nodded at the person in front of her from the distance to proceed as she starts eating her food.

It turns out to be the elegant girl sitting with the wolfcut girl and the one with tattoos beside her. “May we know your name first?” she asked me.

“J-Jeonghoon. Min Jeonghoon.”

“Do you remember how did you end up here in our dorm?”

I stopped for a while as I attempt to recall the last scenarios I’ve gone through, which was from last night… but it was like some sort of a missing puzzle pieces, because I couldn’t remember it entirely.

“A bit. All I know is just I beat up some guys because I caught them trying to abduct the siblings of this kid that they intimidate. I’m pretty sure I got knocked out, but… I really don’t know how am I now here, in this type if place with you all.” I explained.

“Someone brought you here with us. That person found you unconscious outside with a badly beaten body.” Jihyo starts to enlighten out the things I temporarily forgot.

“And you should be thanking right now at her.” She glanced back at the elegant girl who just smiled at me and nodded back. My eyes widened when I understood that she was the one who saved me.

“I’m sorry if you haven’t met me a while ago when you woke up, I just went for some exercise in our gym.” She bowed her head. “My name’s Mina, and I’m the one who brought you here.”

“W-wait, but how…”

“Since you couldn’t remember when you went through last night, I was a friend with the old guy who owns the orphanage and a guardian of those three kids you saved out there.” She started to narrate what previously happened.

“He called me along with the police because well… lets say he knows me as someone he can entrust a lot about.” Mina shrugged. “I volunteered to get you healed here while the old guy reported the incident to the police so… that’s the reason how you end up here in our place.”

I felt relieved and contented that I have an idea now of what I just did, that I was also responsible actually of bringing myself into here, sharing a room with these 9 girls that even though I never met them in my entire life, they seem to be good people and I can somehow try to connect and make myself trustworthy to them… in return of what Mina did to me.

“We learned from Tyler, the kid you saved that they were caught by the loan sharks and you went there to stop them from kidnapping his fellow orphans in exchange of his unpaid balance.” Jihyo said. “And your kind deed was enough to make me convince that maybe you’re not actually what we hope you won’t be. That’s why we talked about even thought Chaeyoung here was… still hesitant-”

“We still don’t know him, unnie! I won’t still trust him around us.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes as she spatted a toxic gaze at her before returning to her food.

“Exactly what I was saying, but she was still right. We may be appreciating what you did for the kids Jeonghoon but… you got to prove us more. We still don’t know much with you yet.”

“But you’re now welcome to interact with us.” The wolfcut haired girl spoke to me with a nice smile. I felt grateful that they gave me a chance somehow even thought I ended up looking weird for them.

“Thank you so much, I will do my best, I promise.” I said to them, bowing respectfully.

I started to eat along with them. While I was savoring how delicious the food was, my eyes caught this girl that I last seen drinking blood. I still can’t get it out of my head. As I get drown fron my curiosity, all of us flinched and got a mini heart attack when she suddenly stood up and slammed her fist on the table, towering at me with her deadly stare.

“CAN YOU STOP LOOKING WITH ME, I COULDN’T EAT PEACEFULLY WITH YOUR STARES! IF YOU WANT TO ASK ME ALREADY ABOUT THE BLOOD I DRANK EARLIER, THEN FREAKING DO IT ALREADY!”

All of us went silent while I found the other girl with bangs slapped her head frustratingly. We locked into a staring contest until Jihyo slids between.

“Nayeon! Calm down!”

“What did you just said, Nayeon unnie?!” Wolfcut asked her older friend which revealed to be her name as Nayeon. Her voice has sn evident disbelief in it.

Nayeon realized what she just accidentally released in her mouth, so she quickly covered it with her palm as she nervously looked around at us especially to Jihyo.

“I-I’m sorry… I-”

“You heard her right.” I said as I still confronted Nayeon. “I caught Nayeon drinking blood from the fridge, even complimenting that it was the best thing to aid hangover.”

All of them gasped and this girl beside me who was using her phone earlier clicked her tongue thrice. Wait, did I mentioned already that she looks like the tallest of them all? Well, excluding me because her head is leveled just right on my shoulder.

“Do you girls know about this? Why is she drinking blood? What are you girls hiding from me?”

They all went suspiciously silent for a moment, my fear and nervousness is increasing my heartbeat’s rate at this point, being beware of their secret that hides their true identity.

“W-wait, Jeonghoon can you give us a minute to t-talk?”

“No more time needed, just tell me right away!” I stood up, feeling alarmed at them. They all posed a taken aback expression at my frightful demeanor.

“Are you girls belong in some crazy ass cult or what? Because you girls didn’t disposed the fact that she drank blood means one thing only that you girls know about this and this just seems normal to yall. Thinking that you girls ain’t normal makes me wanna leave this room already!”

“Jeonghoon, please wait!”

They all stood up at the same time, which even looked like more creepy to me. I stepped backwards, being defensive for myself. “NO! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE ANY MORE STEP COME NEAR ME!”

I looked at the door at the near end of the hallway, which helped me to plan what I have to do after. I gotta get out of this place as they all soon to come after me. I better hurry out and ran as fast as I can.

Just as I had a plan formulated in my mind, the elegant girl took our attention when she suddenly yelled that I couldn’t even consider if she actually yelled because of how light like a feather her voice was.

“W-we are v-vampires, that’s why!”

They all gasped unbelievably at their friend who just exposed and retreated at their guilt.

“MINA! WHY DID YOU SAY IT?!” The bangs girls got infuriated at her.

“I-I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t lie!”

“Shit… you all are…” I looked at them and soon the sight of them looking like these precious set of women goes shifting into this unimaginable monsters that I never wanted to come across with.

“Oh god… so that’s probably why you all took me, to feed me to become more healthy… so that later tonight you all can eat me and have my blood huh! You girls like the dark and a fresh blood, like what that girl said!” I hauntingly said while pointing at Nayeon who lowered her head, probably felt pain at my accusation.

“Guess what, you all can’t have it. Because I’M GETTING OUT OF HERE!”

“GIRLS, GET HIM!

I moved as fast as I can, sprinting to the door and tried to open it. I looked back to see all the girls except Jihyo, the wolfcut one, Nayeon, and the thighs girl not joining the rest who is chasing after me.

I realized that there’s a keypad underneath the knob. I remembered that Chaeyoung told me that I have no chance of getting out of here because their door is secured with a pass code.

OH SHIT!

“HELPPP!!! HELP ME!!!”

I pounded the door as loud as I can before I felt the bangs girls tackled my lower part and pulled my legs, sliding me to the ground with my front colliding on the floor.

Meanwhile, Jihyo and the wolfcut girl was talking about something when I saw the tall girl suddenly speak with them.

“Just tell him the truth, unnie. We can’t do anything about it already. It’s too late.”

“Nowhere to run, Jeonghoon!” Chaeyoung said to me before she maniacally smugs and laughs. I saw a glimpse of her fangs growing wiith her pupils shrinking and eyes glowing into color red.

“GET OFF ME!!! NO, PLEASE!!! SOMEBODY SAVE M-RAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

The three of them just watched the rest pulled my body away from the door as I clawed in the front while screaming in dread and terror, with my fate unknown being at the possession of these girls who turned out to be vampires in disguise.

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