#and he is quiet indeed but because of anxiety

[urspiritualnurse]

▪︎ Pick a pile reading. (Left to right )

If I ever met you in person, what will be my perception of you?

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

(Pick a picture that calls your attention, logic is not superior to intuition, and intuition is not superior to logic, do not assume your head cannot pick a pile that speaks for you, if intuition is quiet, use your mind to choose.)

Pile 1.

I'm hearing the word, Saturn. Over and over again.

Saturn's beloved mortal, you might be.

I think when I meet you guys, I would notice your attention to details and certain obsessive perfectionist tendencies, the bowl has to be placed a certain way, the belt has to go a certain way, the hair, the nails, etc.

Even the writings, I hear.

If Saturn came alive one day and decided he would choose a mortal from earth to do his task, he would knock at your door for assistance.

You know when you have this exact plan in head and with it an exact way of doing methods, and you see people who are assisting you, going about their ways, graying your hair with worries and dread, as you sweat buckets of anxiety, not necessarily because those who are assisting you are incompetent, but because they do not uphold to your way of standard, methods, etc.

I would perceive you as someone....at first....a bit uptight.

I'm a person who indeed am fond of structure but upon meeting you I might get a bit agitated.... but you'd be the most responsible person within my vicinity.

You know when people are considered to be materialistic, we often assume they are very much stuck in the matrix and excessively grounded to the point of no faith, but I think you are the kind of person, who even when charmed by material things will not fickle their way around, there are two types of greed in people when it comes to materialistic ambition, there are people who will want something and go for it with no stops or turn taken in the middle, hyper fixated and grounded and the other type being someone who starts by wanting something and while they are moving towards it, something else catches their eyes, repeating such patterns and never completing any ambition in return.....

I think you are the grounded type, could be your downfall too. If you do not let yourself breath once in a while.

A funny example comes to mind, you know when you are cooking something and you hold the cooked supper up to the dining table but it is far from the kitchen and very hot to hold onto, I'm for certain, someone who will stop and cool my burning hands on the way, but I think you'd be the type to stubbornly not rest until you put that supper down the table.....will it burn your fingers? Yes. Will you find it terrible? Yes.

But you are stubborn like that.

Nomatter what burns or scars you collect on your way to what you want, your eyes that are devoted to your aim, does not falter.

I think I would respect that about you.

You are as though aware that one look away from your desired want, into your surrounding struggles, your attention will be spilt into many....

You would be a fantastic lover....

Very aware of what a wandering gaze could cause both in ambition and in love.

Wonderful pile 1.

I would find you righteous and stern, very serious.

Someone I wouldn't want to joke around at the first meeting.

But you know you could be both, since there are two types of serious people.

One, a pain in the butt, the other, endearing to look at.

You could dance around these two types.

Somedays you could be a huge downer and the other days, you could be endearing in your unwavering focus.

Very resourceful and frugal.

If I ever went shopping with you, I would feel ashamed of my money managing skills..even though I'm myself very resourceful but you're something else.

I think all in all, I would want to be soft with you.

You'd be to me, a standing stem, stern and tall, covered in righteous thorns, and I would want to become a flower on top~

And the picture here is speaking intuitively, I find it as though saturn is unrobing itself from its structural circle....

I would find you someone tempting to unravel.

I'm wicked like that, I love softening mountains and hardening the tender sea.

Pile 2.

In this pile, I'm getting a young and very delightful energy.

You guys could literally be younger than me or have a very youthful nature.

If I met you guys in person, the first thing I would notice about you is your curious nature and the enthusiasm to learn.

I think in the past, you have struggled with vanity, a decorated image of self that you believed needed no guidance or help from above, but now I see you are growing from a place of community as well.

Growth has two takes, one that you do all on your own.

And the other, where you need a push from someone else.

I think, the "on your own" part, you did very well for years and years, but somehow that part of you, where self-sufficiency began to turn into pride, that's when you couldn't bear the thought of getting help from someone else.

You could have grown up without a reliable figure, and I would notice in you an innocence where you could only find in someone who is in need of a reliable figure.

The way you communicate with someone high, elder, more experienced than you, I would notice it all, the way there would be a longing in your eyes, the enthusiastic nod to your superior, the happy admiration towards the elder who just spoke about his early life, I would see it all, and perceive in you, a delicate need for someone in your life.

It is very complicated, isn't it? How we can find pride out of any and everything.

Especially when you've grown up too humble for your own good, humility out of lack...when you believe in you there is no special trait to boast about, one little aspect that shines, whether it be self sufficiency or independence....you hold it tightly.....as your one and only medal....that tells the onlookers you are too, worth being praised.

But hey, you are very magnificent.

I would find you to be, if we were colleagues, the best.

You know there are the type of colleagues who seem too uptight and literally feels like task themselves, you would be the type I would giggle gaggle through my shift with...I would always check our schedules and hope...to have you in my little work hours.

Someone inspiring.

A veteran, experienced and through, indeed sparks in us inspiration...

But something about a novice, amateur, newly beginning, youthful little soul, tumbling and getting around nomatter their previous fall......awakens something so primal inside, as though the imperfect side of us, who had no God to find inspiration from.....finally found one...

Our perfect selves, has a perfect god, veterans, absolutes, and experienced.

And the imperfect selves that is in need of also that very god, cannot find inspiration through......following a perfect god.

You are to all of us, who are indeed imperfect, flawed and amateurs in certain subjects and matter, an inspiration.

Keep going.

I would find you to be an absolute delight to be around.

I would find my maternal instinct howl and growl around you like a mother wolf.

An image is being shown, of lot of sparkling bubbles floating around the space.

The universe that has rigid laws and planets, firm and hard to move, the way the little bubbles swing around every directions and corners freely, reminds me of you.

You are the little twinkling bubbles, unserious and delightful, floating in the universe, full of serious regimes, positions, structure....

The planets you pass by, in your little bubbly figure, waves you in delight.

Keep going my little brother or sister.💛

Pile 3.

In this pile, I'm getting that you are a perfect mess.

You could be a bit ditzy or lost in your own little head.

If I met you guys in person, I would first notice your unabashed imperfections, maybe bedhead, wrinkled shirt, open-mouthed zipper door, two different socks, misplaced shoes, etc.

I think, you are someone who is a different breed, you know what matters and what doesn't. And your version is, different than others, you do not care to ruminate about perfection, but what you care about, you are head over heels for it.

You are like the very example of a person who cooks a perfect meal, so yummy and so worth a chew, you end up happy as you devour the last bite but the moment you look up to the kitchen, you are instantly struck by a heavy heart attack.....

You could literally be messy while you do something but what you were doing, always ends up in perfection.

But I would not lend you my kitchen or things......

I would be impressed by your surprising charms, your nonchalant nature that seems apathetic and bored yet, endearing to look at.

But I am also seeing you could have been fighting a habit of yours, a messy tendency to express your anger or frustration.

Maybe you are the type to punch a wall, break the whole computer if it messed your mood, the image that comes to mind is someone blowing air into the burning flames, instead of pouring the water next to him.

The way of dealing with things or tasks, is not so impacted if in the end the results came out well.

But people and relationships are different, how you respond to circumstances that involves a crowd or two, you need to be very mindful of that, little one.

There are many people who find you endearing, and understand your little mishaps, and I would be one of them too but, you must understand, when someone is lenient to you, it is not an opportunity for you to keep continuing the problematic thing, but a generous chance to do better the next try.

I think you are well loved, people who are tired of the status quo, the perfectionist tendencies, the uptight regimes and routines, will find you to be a breath of fresh air.

You are inspiring to those who believe only uptight path leads to a better result....

You are easy going and comforting to be around, but remember to stop in your mid tracks to appreciate those who give space for your mishaps to happen.

The patience from your surrounding is worth appreciating.

You would be the perfect innovater, someone who thinks outside the box. I would find your babbling, entertaining to listen, your ideas are refreshing and humorous.

I would watch you from afar and admire your audacious and bold, imperfections.

And I would think in my head, "wow....that person truly doesn't give a flying f."

But you could be someone who has a hard time maintaining relationship or conversations, you are either very good at winging the last remaining penny in your pocket or you could be someone not so good at managing your pockets.

The last message to you child is this,

You are forever accompanied, your besides are never empty,

And your nature is unaware, your hands fast paced, your temperament fixated,

When you are swinging in speed an axe full of tasks and emotions, be mindful dear.

For you are always accompanied, and your besides are never empty....someone might get hurt by your apathetic strike.....so be careful.

Pile 4.

The first message I got here was,

This pile being very fair minded, passionately even.

Your temperament might be sweet and polite, but for a cause regarding equality, you are fiery.

The masculine and feminine energy both seems very relaxed and balanced in you, if not already you are about to be in this energy very soon.

If I ever met you in person,I would first notice your way of speaking, the well painted vowels, the brilliantly structured tone and pitch, the way you communicate would be something I would love observing either to learn or just....witness.

You could smile pretty easily, someone who doesn't hesitate to smile to strangers or service staffs doing their jobs, but I think the more time If I am to spend with you, I would start picking up a certain restlessness within you....

As if you were being followed by someone with a forever plastered camera in their hands taking shots after shots of you, and you as though dreading the idea of coming in those stolen shots, imperfect......flawed......

I would notice in you the restless pursuit of perfection...

As though the mirrors you look at everyday, had come alive when you were a child, and followed you around everywhere, reminding you of your posture, position, image...

I'm also getting you might have witnessed when young, mistreatment towards an unexpected gender....the societal roles of dominance that men are put under....I feel like you witnessed that dominance in a woman....maybe a mother figure.

Maybe the father figure remained in a demure position, and when i say this, do not interpret it as the flaw of your father's masculinity.

It's as if, a father figure was in a pleaser mode, trying to appease the mother figure his entire time.....power is not always red and violent, power is sometimes violet and cold.

Someone can assert authority by either using brute force, or using silence....cold shoulder......both leading to fears.....where one who is in a vulnerable position....will eventually find themselves, in a pleaser state of mind.

I think, you would be to me a spectacular evidence of a living star amongst the earth.

As though the earth who envied the skies gifted with infinite stars, longed and longed for a star of its own.....had one day discovered you.....a little shining ember, twinkling amidst the darkened crowd.....the earth in her high consciousness appreciated your birth but her lower frequency that is in form of the mundane world, decided out of fear, to swallow you within, hiding you away from the sky, swirling out circumstances after circumstances that would lead you to fear, opening up to the open sky.......or ever taking a flight, to be finally seen up above, shining as the star...

This earth, metaphorically could be speaking about someone in your life.

A lonely figure, who really had prayed for a shining miracle, once granted couldn't get themselves to let you go....

In the very picture you can see, the star looks like it is being swallowed by the earth....the first thought that had came to my mind was just that.

What is a star doing in the earth's ground? And why is the earth pulling it in ?

I think you would be someone I would look at, look in and look upto,

someone who is very aware of how they affect the entire circle, someone so thoughtful and concerned about their image, that would even go far as to, warn me of consequences that you personally fear.....

Sometimes it's annoying to be warned, when what they are warning you about is not something you fear but my annoyance would melt away it's hostility when in your eyes, I would catch a glimpse of the restlessness you hide.

The way you run away from the consequences you never want to live through, such raw and intense fear....you cared enough not to want another go through that...?

It's wonderful.......doesn't matter if it's your projection.

I would appreciate your concern......

My little one, I think you and I, would become a silent bystander in each other's life......your fear that drips out of your concern filled warnings......I would collect all of it to know you better.....a you that you do not dare show.....a fearful, worried, vulnerable, restless, not so poised and charmingly certain.....self,

I will absolutely cherish those gathered sides of you, in a very beautiful treasure box.

If I met you, I would see only the things you show me.....but I will dare be nosy and dare be......observant....

Because to see you, one must numb their vision, become impaired in sight.

Only then can I finally look at your covered self, beneath all the cherry picked adornments.

You are like a brilliant sapphire, being taught to believe is in need of hiding......

You are this one lost little gem who thinks, adorning itself with jewels is the only way to be granted value.

If only you knew, that a rare sapphire like you, doesn't need, adornment.

One look at you and your shine is apparent, passing even through the empty sockets of a blind man, your worth is sharp and something that is universally known.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞

MDNI

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread

WC: 7.1k (yeah...)

« part two // 🎄 special »

Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.

You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.

You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.

But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.

And that's when you saw it.

“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?

You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.

“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.

“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.

“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.

You were fucking shaking.

It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.

Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.

You just turned 21, recently.

‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.

He wasn't that old himself, barely 30

He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.

He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.

Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.

She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.

But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.

He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.

His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.

But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.

Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.

When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.

You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.

“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.

Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.

“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.

He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.

“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.

He was fucking lying.

But you didn't know that.

The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.

“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.

“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.

And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.

Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.

And with a handshake, he accepted you.

You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.

It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.

It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.

You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.

“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.

He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.

Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question

“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly

“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.

“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.

Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.

“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.

It was fucking big.

Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.

You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.

He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.

“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.

“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.

“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.

Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.

And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.

You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.

You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes

“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.

He was crying in his sleep.

Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.

He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.

“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.

Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.

“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.

You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done

But you were only trying to comfort him.

Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.

“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.

“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.

“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.

“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.

“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.

“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.

“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.

“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.

It was a spam call.

But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.

But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.

The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.

It was so perfect.

Almost as if you were made for that.

Aemond felt his heart flutter.

For the first time in years.

He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.

Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.

You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.

You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.

You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.

“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.

You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.

Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.

You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.

Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.

Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge

And soon it would push him off it.

Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.

“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.

“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.

“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.

“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.

Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.

And Aemond had lost his resolve.

He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.

Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.

“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”

“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.

“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.

The water heater wasn't broken.

He was lying.

And you believed him.

He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.

He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.

He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.

And then you opened it.

His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.

He snapped.

He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.

He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.

You should refuse this.

You should push him away.

But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.

He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.

He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.

One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.

He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.

And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.

He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.

Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.

He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.

He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.

He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.

Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.

Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.

“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.

You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.

“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.

You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.

He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.

He was still hard.

So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.

He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.

“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.

“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.

He clicks his tongue

“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.

He finishes too, inside you again.

You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.

“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.

“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.

“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.

“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.

Silence falls between you two.

A comfortable silence.

He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.

You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.

“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.

“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.

You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.

You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.

He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.

You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.

He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.

You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.

You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.

“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.

“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.

“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.

You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.

“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.

Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.

Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.

There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.

“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs

Oh gods.

Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.

“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.

You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.

He smirks.

Oh fuck.

You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.

“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.

“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.

He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.

His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.

“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.

“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.

You nod and follow him to the front door.

“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.

“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.

He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.

And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.

Oh seven hells.

———

[noosayog]

gravitate ft. miya atsumu

wc: 2.2k part 2 of 2

part 1

contents/warnings: fwb dynamic, a lil bit of jealousyyy <3, angst to fluff, suggestive but sfw, she/her! reader, referred to as girlfriend, wife, reader has minor social anxiety

Atsumu thinks he did the right thing. 

It’s the truth after all, that even if he got a committed partner now, he wouldn’t be able to give them the time and attention they deserve. 

It’s the responsible thing to do. 

Never mind the fact that he’s fallen absolutely head over heels for you. It’s okay, though, because you had always seemed so on board with casual. At the end of the day, he’d only be hurting himself by getting more involved with you; you were the better one at drawing boundaries and saying goodbye.

Yet, after that night, he’s never been more grateful for a lull in the season, a brief break before the games begin again. He could dedicate time to practicing and conditioning and more importantly, no games meant no afterparties for him to give himself the wrong idea.

The idea that you might also have feelings for him. 

It’s wishful thinking right? He’s reading into the fact that you asked if he could wear his jersey right? Logically, he couldn’t stop you from wearing it, so why did you ask? Some roundabout way of asking if that would give all your friends the wrong idea? Of course it would. They would never miss out on a chance to clown him. 

All to say, the break in the season gives him some time away from you.

It’s all completely ironic though because all it does is gives him nothing but more time to think about you. The longer his runs are, the more time his brain has to drift to thoughts of you. At the gym, every rest interval between sets is spent remembering your smell, taste, sounds. And rest days, rest days were the worst. 

The time passes excruciatingly slowly and quickly at the same time until the season picks up and your unsaid meeting time comes around again. 

– 

A part of him had expected that you might not show up to the after-game party after what had gone down between the two of you. 

That’s if you even see what happened as note-worthy. 

So when you show up, laughing it up and enjoying yourself like nothing happened, he’s convinced that he did indeed make the right decision. This is and always has been casual to you, like what was agreed upon. It’s like a stab in the chest, but a foolish part of him thinks that means maybe the two of you will casually be drawn together at some point tonight and he’d be able to take you home and get the small piece of you he sees as his. 

But, damn, he had missed you. He can’t help the way his eyes drift to you every 5 minutes to see when he’ll finally be able to catch you alone. 

Typically, it wouldn’t take long, since he knows you tend to run low on social battery within a couple minutes of mingling. But tonight, you’re like a different person, talking and drinking all night. Every time he looks over at you, you’re a part of some circle of friends laughing like you’ve been friends forever. 

As the night drags on, Atsumu gets antsy, glancing over every other minute. He finally catches you when you break away from your group. 

“Hey,” he says, hoping he sounds significantly less – just less – than how he actually feels. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you all night, miss Popular.” 

You raise a brow at him. 

“I haven’t seen you talk to this many people ever,” he jokes. 

You give him a weak smile at that. “So you think catching me during my one and only break is gonna win you any favors?” 

He relaxes a bit at the quip. “My company should count as a break.” 

You laugh and he grins back. At long last, the sound he’d been wanting to hear all night. Not aimed at some stranger, not the forced robotic sounds he knows you offer out of politeness. He’s about to throw his arm around you and lead you to someplace quiet when you seem to catch the eye of someone you know. You wave them over and he suppresses a groan. 

How many more minutes until he can have you to himself? 

A girl he dimly recognizes from some other gatherings wanders over to the two of you and Atsumu’s eyes narrow a fraction when you take half a step back to let her get closer to him. 

“Atsumu, this is Yukie. Yuki, this is Atsumu.” 

“Hi! Nice to meet you!” She comes in for a hug and almost instinctively, Atsumu shifts his body to turn it into a side hug. He pats once at her shoulder before pulling away but she keeps her hold around his side for one second too long to be friendly. 

“Well then,” he hears you say. His gaze whips to you, like knows what you’re about to do and can’t believe you’re doing it. “I’ll leave you kids to talk alone. I need to take a bathroom break. Don’t have too much fun!” 

Don’t have too much fun? He mocks you in his mind. Could you make it any more obvious? 

Atsumu pries the hand from his side off, intent on chasing you but Yukie steps in his path, starting to chat up a storm, leaving Atsumu frustrated but trying not to be rude. Something akin to rage starts to fill up in his gut, clouding his brain with impatience to end this conversation already and find you to figure out the what fuck your intentions are here.

He finally got one moment, just one moment alone with you after weeks of nothing and you just pass it off to someone else like you don’t give a damn. 

It takes several reassurances that he’d be seeing her again at other mutual friends’ gatherings to break away, and he immediately weaves through the crowd to find you. Fuck subtlety and whatever cat-and-mouse bullshit the two of you used to play.

He half expects you to have gone home; he could feel the social exhaustion oozing out of you in waves even in the couple of minutes he did manage to get with you. So imagine Atsumu’s surprise when he does indeed find you still present, chatting up Tobio-kun of all people. Sure, being high school friends with Shoyo-kun means you had the same relationship with Tobio, but why the fuck do you have a hand on his shoulder, doubling over with laughter as if listening to Tobio’s jokes made your whole night of small talk worth it. 

The red hot feeling bubbles over, and before he knows what he’s doing, he stomps over to rip your arm off Tobio’s shoulder. 

“What? You just pawn me off to some other girl so you can go off and find someone else for tonight?” 

Tobio, bless his heart, with all his social ineptitude picks up the cues and makes himself scarce. 

You shake Atsumu’s searing grip from your wrist and put some space between you two, but he’s not having it. He steps even closer, backing you up until you hit the wall. Suddenly, the hallway seems too empty, too quiet. Atsumu doesn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears anyway. 

You only look at him for a moment before closing your eyes and turning away. “What are you talking about, Atsumu? It's not that seri-” 

“It is and you fuckin’ know it.” 

“Atsumu, I don’t think this is the place to talk about this– ” 

“So come over to mine. Let’s talk.” 

“Atsumu…” 

“Please,” he’s damn near begging, one degree from being on his knees.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

He grabs your chin and forces you to look right into his eyes. “And why not? I think we both know something happened tonight that we need to talk about.” 

“Tonight?” you echo. You slap his hands away and shove at his chest, forcing him half a step back. “Something happened last time too and you didn’t seem to wanna talk about it then. Well, now it’s my turn to tell you. Nothing happened tonight, so there’s nothing to talk about.” 

His chest aches, so much so that he can’t get any words out as he processes what you’ve just said. So he didn’t do the right thing after all. 

The aching intensifies hearing you refer to whatever went down tonight between you two as “nothing.” 

He takes a deep, heavy inhale before eking out, “don’t say that, baby. I’m sorry. Can we please talk about this?” 

“I don’t want to. In fact, Atsumu, I don’t think we should-” see each other anymore. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “Whatever it is you’re about to say, my answer is no and that’s final.” 

“And what I want doesn’t matter?”

“It does! But I won't allow you to make that decision for us until we talk properly.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Just-” 

What should he say? What can he say? He’s running out of words to convince you and you’re not budging. It’s pure panic that arises in his throat when he watches you desperately try to pry his fingers off your wrist. 

He grips tighter. He has a feeling that if he gives up now, it would be that easy for you to venture beyond his reach. You’d never come to another one of these gatherings. Maybe he’d get a glimpse of you at a game against Tobio, you wearing an Adlers jersey with a #20 printed in the back and fuck- 

That’s such a terrible image, he almost feels like physically doubling over to soothe the stabbing jealousy in his chest. 

“I love you,” he utters out. 

“What?” 

His forehead comes down to rest on yours, pouring out his entire being into those three words again. “I love you.” 

“Atsumu! That is not casual!” you whisper urgently. 

He can’t help but laugh. It’s a mixture of relief that the confession has finally freed itself from the confines of his ribcage and at your alarmed but adorably frank comment. 

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” 

“So then… why did you… that night…” 

“That night, I was an idiot that didn’t realize how much I felt for you. I took for granted that I’d always be able to see you again like this and have you like I always have. But I don’t wanna live on hope or ‘next time’ anymore. I wanna know that I can and when I will see you again.” 

Foreheads still pressed against another, he leaves you with nowhere to run. You close your eyes. He does too. 

“So will you please come home with me so we can figure this out together?” 

Much like that very first night at the bar, you waver between going back out to the party or staying with him. He sees the indecision in your eyes and for those few moments, he walks on a tightrope and you hold the scissors. 

“Okay,” you whisper, so quiet it barely makes a sound. 

–

“Missed you so damn much.” 

“Atsumu, wait-” 

It’s immediate when his door swings open. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall and the door slams shut. Atsumu pushes closer one leg forcefully opening yours up and picking you up by the thighs. With nowhere to run, you wrap your legs around his waist and open up for Atumu to deepen the kiss. 

“Thought we were gonna talk,” he hears you say between breaths. 

“Later,” he rasps, kissing you harder and starting to rock his hips against you. “Missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

“Me too,” you admit quietly and that’s all you get to say before you succumb to his desperation. 

– 

“You know,” you say, much later that night as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You still owe me an explanation. Just ‘cause we slept together doesn’t mean I totally forgive you.” 

Atsumu considers making a quip about how you being here with him, drawing indiscernible patterns on his torso with your finger, wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, smelling like him is making it look pretty good for him, but he figures he flew way to close to the sun for today. 

“I know. And I promise we’ll talk more. No more dinin’ and dashin’ in the mornin’, yeah?” 

You consider this for a moment, before propping both arms on his chest and resting your head on your fists thoughtfully. 

He thinks it's the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Just so I don’t misunderstand anything again-”

“You’re not misunderstanding anything, I promise.”

“I know, but I have to hear it.” 

“Will you be my wife?” 

“Atsumu!” 

“Okay, okay sorry. We’ll do that later then. Can we start with girlfriend?” 

“Hmm… I’ll need to think about it. Not sure how I feel about a guy who goes straight to home plate before he even takes me out to dinner.” 

“Y’know what, now that you mention it, I don’t know how I feel about a girl who goes home with a guy she just met-” 

“Shut up.” you snort and something’s definitely not right because every sound you make is the most adorable thing. He swears he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“And ‘Tsumu?” 

Lovestruck, he croons, “yeah, darlin’?” 

“I’d love to be your fiance.” 

“That’s my girl.”

[art-missy]

Cheng Xiaoshi often described himself as a cuddly individual. You, you preffered using the term 'clingy'. It was a fact barely acknowledged by himself, sighed by Lu Guang and ridiculed by Qiao Ling. You on the other hand, almost suffered because of it. He had so many ways of being clingy that you were done counting. He always had to have a physical contact with you and for that, he had many techniques.

There was the casual but classic arm around your shoulders when in public, your waist when in private. It was a way to pull you closer, he would also often share a warm smile with you.

There was the arms wrapped around your waist followed by his chin on your shoulder or the top of your head. He often did that when he felt sulky, when he was trying to convince you or when he felt like watching whatever you were doing over your shoulder.

There was the lovely head on your shoulder when he felt slightly tired or on your lap when he was sleepy. He kept saying that you were his best pillow. There were also times when he pulled you on top of him for a nap. In these moments, he called you his comforter or his Teddy Bear.

So many different ways to have you in his arms.

You were used to his touch, to his arms circling your body and his excuses for more contact. Yet, you couldn't understand what idea emerged in his mind for you to be cradled in his arms like a baby while he was sat on the studio's couch. Your head literally was cradled in the pit of his elbow, and he was rocking you from side to side.

"Cheng Xiaoshi, what are you doing ?"

"Shhh," he hushed you softly. "Don't worry, I got you."

You looked at him as if a second head grew on his shoulder and he just started singing a lullaby. You threw a begging look at Lu Guang who just walked out of the room, leaving you at your fate. The traitor.

"Cheng Xiaoshi !" you pinched his lips, quieting him. "Did you knock your head or something ?"

The light pout that appeared on his face would have make you melt if your cheek wasn't squished against his chest.

"I didn't."

"Then what's going on ?" you groaned, trying to pull away but he kept you firmly in his arms.

"You were sick and anxious all week !"

"And...?"

"And I've read somewhere that being cradled in someone's arms could lessen your anxiety," he explained, shrugging. "It relaxes me when you do it."

Your eyebrow raised at his explanation. As adorable as he might be in your eyes, his actions often met your skepticism. You were indeed very tensed these past few days. Attentive and worried, he didn't let you leave his sight and took great care of you.

"Are you sure it's not another excuse for cuddles ?" you sighed.

"Of course it is !" he exclaimed but lowered his voice when he felt you flinching. "But it's also necessary. I'll be your service dog, today."

And he rocked you gently from side to side again, his warm chest still pressed against your cheek. And you let him do. Cheng Xiaoshi was like that, taking great care of people he loved with a sunny enthusiasm.

[bellaxgiornata]

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Four|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 4.1k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

a/n: Saint Matthew strikes again in this fluffy-ish(?) chapter that has been my favorite to write so far. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz @loves0phelia @withasideofmeg @mattmurdock-wife24 @sarraa-26 @mylastarrival @mdanon027 @kmc1989 @abiisscared

“Dinner?”

“We'll see what we've got, cricket.”

The sound of voices in the hallway broke through Matt’s sleeping mind, pulling him back to consciousness. Groggily stirring on his couch, Matt tried to focus his senses around him as he rubbed a hand across his forehead. Waking from sleep always left him a bit disoriented, especially the rare times he allowed himself a short nap.

“Chicken nuggets?”

“You know I'm–I'm not too sure if we have any left, but we can look when we get inside.”

Pushing himself slowly upright on the couch with a hand, the leather groaned beneath his weight. As he continued to listen to the voices outside of his apartment, Matt quickly realized he was overhearing you and your daughter in the hallway. Leaning forward and resting his elbows along his thighs, he tilted his head towards the wall where the pair of you were now standing in front of your own apartment door.

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure we have something I can make for dinner tonight, Evie.”

A frown settled on Matt’s mouth, his tired eyes narrowing as he focused closer on your body out in the hall. It sounded sluggish, as if you were exhausted and low on energy, and if he concentrated really hard, he could hear the faint rumblings of your stomach. You were both hungry. And with the hesitant way you’d just responded to your daughter along with the burst of anxiety inside of you at your last statement, he’d begun to wonder how true it actually had been.

Shifting on the couch, Matt did what he’d told himself he wouldn’t continue to do. He focused on you as you made your way into your apartment. He found it odd how your young daughter didn’t seem to say much, even now when it was just the pair of you alone in your own place. Something about that unsettled him. A child so young shouldn’t constantly be so timid and quiet.

He heard you set something down on your kitchen counter–a purse most likely. He listened as you took four steps before you opened what sounded like your refrigerator door. There was a soft, quiet sigh that even he’d barely caught as you closed that door seconds later and opened the other. A few items faintly shifted around on the shelf as you clearly searched for something in your fridge. 

“Sorry, cricket, there’s no chicken nuggets. I’ll have to add them to the grocery list for this weekend. But I can make us peanut butter and jelly for dinner. How does that sound?”

“No bread.”

“Oh,” Matt heard you reply, your cheerful tone instantly shifting to something disheartened. “You’re right. I uhm, I guess we might need to–to make a trip to the store before dinner then. Maybe we can find something to make for tonight.”

Your heart rate had accelerated as you spoke, the sound piquing Matt’s curiosity. Why had you suddenly become so nervous at the prospect of going shopping? But then he heard you picking up the object you’d set on your counter, the soft noise of a zipper confirming that it had indeed been your purse. That’s when he understood–you were looking for your wallet. Probably to see what cash you had on you in order to find groceries for tonight. You were probably nervous because you knew how little you’d find to help you.

Eyes closing, Matt blew out a deep breath as he buried his face in his hands. So his suspicions had been correct, you were struggling financially. Even with being able to afford to feed your daughter. He felt sick to his stomach listening to your growing panic in the apartment across the hall in what was clearly a very vulnerable moment for you.

Desperately Matt wished he could head over to your place right now, knock on your door, and offer you that job that Foggy and Karen had agreed upon letting you have earlier this week. Except there was absolutely no way Matt could realistically do that without making you entirely uncomfortable and possibly scaring you further away from him. Because he’d barely ever spoken to you, there was no realistic reason that he should’ve known about the situation you’d found yourself in or for him to offer you a job. 

But he also couldn’t just sit here in his apartment and let you both continue to go hungry. 

Pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, he tried hard to think of how he could help you. Chewing the inside of his cheek, his mind ran over countless different ideas before it finally settled on one realistic one. Lowering his hands from his face, a small smile slipped onto his mouth. While he may not have had an excuse to go over to your place and offer you that part-time position just yet, there was something else he could do to immediately help the pair of you and possibly open the door to communication between you both.

Getting up from his couch, Matt began to make his way into the kitchen and over towards his fridge. Mentally he was already trying to prepare himself for what he would say to you when you opened the door for him because he needed to make this interaction count. He couldn’t afford to have you slam the door on his face–or worse, completely refuse to answer.

“Thank you, Mrs. Amato,” he whispered under his breath as he pulled a dish out of his fridge.

Pulling your wallet out of your purse, you tried to calm the sick feeling in your stomach. You already knew how much cash you had in there. A single twenty dollar bill. And that was all you had until you got paid again next Friday.

Plastering a smile onto your face, you glanced up at Evie. She was standing at the edge of the kitchen, the glaringly empty living room behind her only cementing your feelings of inadequacy. But now wasn’t the time for focusing on that–you needed to find a way to stretch twenty dollars and fast.

“Hey, how about you go put your backpack away in your room while I try to figure something out for dinner?” you suggested. 

Silently Evie turned and headed over to her bedroom. Pressing your lips together, you watched her until she disappeared from your sight. Once she had, you focused back down on the wallet in your hands, spotting the lone twenty dollar bill sitting in your otherwise empty wallet. Shoulders dropping in defeat, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it last all of next week now.

Two soft knocks came from the door behind you, the unexpected sound startling you so much that you dropped your wallet back inside of your purse. Your heart jumped into your throat just as Evie poked her head out of her bedroom, her eyes growing wide and terrified. Yet again you did your best to plaster a calm smile on your face, not wanting to worry her further. Because while you didn’t know who was at your door, and while you were almost positive it wasn’t your ex-fiance, your fear had still sky-rocketted at the sound. The fact that someone was here when you didn't expect company was enough to put you on edge.

“It’s alright, I got it, cricket,” you told her.

Mouth going dry, you stepped out of your kitchen and nervously made your way towards the door. You weren't sure who you’d find on the other side because it had barely been a week since you'd moved in. You'd intentionally gone out of your way not to speak to anyone in the building, so there was no reason someone should've been trying to visit you right now.

Placing both of your hands very carefully against the door, you leaned forward and peered through the peephole. Sucking in a sharp breath, you were shocked to see your neighbor standing in the hallway. The same man from across the hall who you just couldn’t seem to get away from this week. You were about to lock the deadbolt and tell him to leave until he shifted his weight on his feet and you caught sight of what looked like a glass dish covered in tinfoil in his hands.

Was he bringing you food? Because that was…odd. You were in the middle of New York City, why the hell would your neighbor be bringing you food? Even where you’d lived previously just outside of the city, no one had been that friendly. Had he somehow overheard you and Evelyn talking about dinner in the hall? But even then, as you replayed the short conversation in your mind, nothing you’d said had implied that you were both in need of anything.

You’d truly contemplated telling this man to go away as you stood there watching him through the peephole. It was strange that he kept randomly appearing around you this week. But as you stood there chewing your bottom lip, you knew that if he was bringing you food–for whatever reason that he was–you weren’t entirely in the position to turn it down. Because a stranger’s kindness, however unexplainable, would certainly help you make it to your next paycheck.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried hard to calm your nerves as you began to unlock your door. After all, he was only carrying a dish of food, not some sort of weapon, and when you’d very briefly encountered him on the roof a few nights ago he’d sounded friendly at least. Though there was still a part of you that internally screamed danger whenever you saw him, and you’d yet to put your finger on why.

Opening your door only halfway, your trembling right hand still gripping it in case you needed to slam it shut, you took in the sight of your neighbor. He was standing there in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a crumpled olive green tee-shirt–a vast difference from the nicer suit you’d first spotted him in at the beginning of the week. There was a bright smile on his face beneath the red-tinted glasses sitting atop his nose. Your eyes didn’t fail to miss the small cut along his chin behind his stubble though, your gaze lingering along it as you nervously licked your lips.

“Can I help you?” you asked after a moment.

“Hey, I’m your neighbor across the hall,” the man greeted, his voice like honey to your ears as he spoke. “6A?” 

One of his hands briefly released the bottom of the dish he was holding to gesture at the door behind himself. Your eyes followed the movement before coming back to land on the dish in his hands. It looked like a glass dish filled with lasagna and your stomach gave a faint rumble. Your hand nervously gripped your door tighter, hoping he hadn’t caught the sound as your attention returned to his smiling face.

“Hi,” you replied awkwardly. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” he continued, clearly unphased by the tone of your voice. “My name is Matthew Murdock. I’m a lawyer over at Nelson, Murdock, and Page. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of us before, but we're known for helping out many folks in the Hell’s Kitchen area.”

“I haven’t,” you stated simply.

The man’s smile wavered for the briefest of seconds, but it didn’t completely disappear from his face. It was true, though. You hadn’t been in the city long enough to have become familiar with much in it yet. While you’d been at Hope Haven, you’d been more focused on getting you and Evie set up to make a life in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t exactly have a need to go searching for lawyers–not unless Daniel found you. But even then, you weren’t sure there was a single lawyer that you could afford who could save you and Evelyn from him.

“Well, we often tend to do a lot of pro bono work for clients in the area who understandably can’t afford a lawyer,” he continued, almost as if he’d read your mind. “And they tend to show their appreciation for our help with meals and baked goods–and sometimes far too much fruit.” 

He chuckled good-naturedly as he held up the lasagna in his hands. Your eyes once more dropped down to the dish and you swore you could smell the delicious red sauce through the tinfoil. 

“I just thought I’d bring over some food to welcome you to the building,” Matthew continued. “I know with a big move sometimes it's hard to find the time to cook or even pick up groceries, so I thought this might help give you a little break this week.” His charming smile grew even wider, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes behind his red lenses. “But I’ll be honest and admit upfront that I did not make this lasagna, so I can't exactly take credit for it. One of our clients made it as a thank you for dealing with some issues with her landlord.”

You eyed Matthew curiously as he stood in the hallway just in front of your door, examining his friendly and charming smile beneath those red glasses. While there was a part of you that still felt an unexplainable sense of danger from him–the hair on your forearm having prickled beneath his unseeing gaze–there was a smaller part of you that felt his sincerity. After all, how often did you hear about lawyers who handled pro bono cases happily getting paid in lasagna and fruit? 

Still, you found him incredibly strange and you planned to remain on your guard with him. 

“And why exactly is it that you're giving away a lasagna to a neighbor you don’t even know?” you asked cautiously.

He shrugged lightly in response. “I certainly don’t need an entire lasagna for myself. I’m just one man, there’s only so much I can eat.” He paused, a soft, disarming chuckle falling past his lips again. “I’m still trying to make my way through the soup I was generously gifted the other day. But if I’m also being honest–”

He leaned forward towards you but the unexpected proximity had you startle backwards a step, your hand squeezing your door in response. Strangely it almost seemed like he’d hesitated, as if he’d somehow known you’d moved despite being unable to see you.

“I don’t want the food to go to waste and I’d much prefer to drop it by your place than over at Mrs. Henderson’s in 6C,” he finished conspiratorially. “She frightens me a little. Very big flirt, that one. Doesn’t matter if she’s in her late sixties and widowed.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly as he leaned away from you once more. Curiously you thought you saw him even shuffle a step backwards into the hallway.

“Right,” you said, uncertain how to respond to that.

“But I’m sure you’re busy this evening and I'd hate to take up any more of your time,” Matthew continued, extending the lasagna out towards you. “I was told the instructions to heat this up were on a post-it note on top, but considering that I can’t see it, I’m certainly hoping that’s true.”

You glanced down at the yellow post-it note on the tinfoil. It did in fact have the reheating instructions noted. But instead of reaching out and taking the dish from him, you awkwardly stood there, your right hand still firmly grasping your door. Matthew’s smile finally fell at your hesitation.

“I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable in any way. I can leave,” he said. “I was hoping this would be a friendly gesture. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know that if you ever needed something, I’m just across the hall.”

“Why?” you blurted.

His dark brows furrowed beneath his glasses, his head tilting just a bit to the side. “Why what?” he asked.

“Why’re you coming across the hall to welcome a neighbor to the building?” you questioned. “That seems quite uncharacteristic of someone in the city. At least, from the time I’ve been here so far. People are not generally this friendly unless they want something in return. And I'm not looking to owe anyone any favors.”

The charming smile returned to his mouth as he shrugged once more. “Maybe it’s my Catholic upbringing,” he told you, “but I prefer to be kind whenever the opportunity presents itself. But I assure you that I absolutely do not want anything in return. I promise.”

Your eyes dropped back down to the dish in his extended hands. You did, in fact, want to accept it, but you still felt uncomfortable at the idea of it. 

“I…don't really know what to say,” you awkwardly confessed. 

“You don't need to say anything at all,” he assured you.

Cautiously releasing the firm hold you had on your door, you slowly reached out and accepted the dish from his outstretched hands. You eyed him curiously as the smile on his face somehow grew wider when you did.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You're welcome,” he replied. “I hope you and your daughter enjoy it. And if you're a fan of baked goods, I know for a fact that we're receiving far too many peanut butter cookies on Monday. I'd be happy to drop some off because I certainly don't need them all.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, clutching the heavy glass dish in your hands, “that's alright. Really. We don't–”

You stopped short when something tugged at your dress slacks. Glancing down beside your leg you spotted Evie with one of her small fists curled around the dark fabric. She looked up at you and then over at your neighbor.

“Cookies?” she asked.

Matthew's head turned towards the sound of your daughter’s voice. The softening of his expression somehow almost completely eased that feeling of danger you often felt around him with the way he was now smiling down at Evie. He almost looked trustworthy. Safe.

Almost . Which made you even further suspicious of him.

“Hello there,” he greeted gently. “I'm–”

“Mr. Murdock,” Evie said. 

Shifting the heavy casserole dish over to your left arm and cradling it against your chest, your other hand landed protectively along her back and held her close to you. You were surprised she'd even come over and spoken to him because she usually disliked strangers and kept quiet. She must have sensed something else in him than you initially had.

“That’s right,” he said, still warmly smiling in her direction. “We're always getting sent so many baked goods. And it's up to your mother, but I could certainly bring you some cookies next Monday after work if you'd like?”

Evie's attention shifted to you, her wide hopeful eyes silently pleading with you. She didn't often get sweets anymore because they weren't a priority when you were budgeting groceries for the week, so you knew exactly what that look meant. She wanted you to accept the offer of cookies. But that also meant another inevitable interaction with your neighbor and this one was already one too many for your liking. 

But it was Evie and you’d do just about anything to make her happy.

With a sigh, you nodded at her before focusing back on Matthew. “If it's not too much trouble, I think Evie would like that,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“No trouble at all Ms….?”

Your lips pressed together for a moment, your initial instincts fighting you to give away your name and briefly causing you to hold your tongue. Though you had just given him Evie’s name and he already knew where you lived. What more harm was there if he knew your name, too?

Quietly you gave it to him, your stomach twisting into nervous knots. He repeated it softly, somehow the sound further calming you as he did. 

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, already taking a step backwards towards his door. “And I meant what I said. If you ever need anything, I'm just across the hall.”

A tight smile settled onto your lips even though you knew he couldn't see it as you nodded. “Thank you,” you replied, full well planning not to ask him for anything more. “I'll keep that in mind.”

You watched as he finally turned before you shut the door one-handed, the dish of lasagna still cradled against your chest. As weird as that whole interaction had been, at least you didn't have to worry about dinner for the next few nights. 

“I guess we're having lasagna tonight, cricket,” you said, carrying the dish over to your kitchen counter. “Sound good?”

Glancing over your shoulder at Evie, you saw the expression brighten her face. She nodded enthusiastically in response and the sight managed to put a smile on your own face.

Whoever that Mr. Murdock was, he'd at least put a smile on your daughter’s face tonight with his kindness.

“Mama!!”

Eyes flying wide open at the unexpected scream that ripped you from a dead sleep, you felt your heart nearly jolt out of your chest. By the time you heard your daughter shout for you a second time, you were already scrambling out of your blanket and rising to your feet.

“I'm coming, Evie!” you yelled back.

This was why you slept in front of your daughter’s door. Because it took you a matter of seconds to throw it wide open. 

Rushing inside her bedroom, you found Evie out of her sleeping bag and standing by the window across the room. You dropped down to your knees once you reached her, immediately beginning to inspect her with your hands for any sign of injury.

“What is it?” you asked her in a panic. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, your eyes drawn back up to her face. Despite her having shouted for you, she didn't look terrified. She appeared startled and a little surprised, but not scared.

“I saw him,” she told you.

Hands making their way back up to her shoulders, your brows furrowed at her words. “Who?” you asked her slowly. “You saw who?”

“The man,” she answered, turning at the waist and pointing to her window. “Outside.”

Your eyes flew to the window, scanning the rooftops beyond the fire escape outside of her room. There was nothing to see though. And with how bright the billboard across the street was, you would have been able to see if someone was there. 

This wasn't the first time this week Evie had told you she'd been seeing a masked man outside her window out on the rooftops. At first when she had told you about seeing someone, you'd let your fear take hold of you, worried it was somehow Daniel out there trying to torment you. But then when she hadn't been afraid of the man, you'd begun to worry that her fear of her father had led her to conjure up some masked imaginary figure that she kept seeing at nighttime when she was supposed to be asleep. 

“Cricket,” you said softly, your attention returning to her, “I've told you already. There's no masked man on the roof.” You reached a hand up, gently cupping her cheek. “Sweetheart, you're just dreaming. Okay? No one is out there. We're safe here, remember?”

“ He keeps us safe.”

Her strange comment gave you pause, your lips parting as you wondered what that even meant. Shaking your head a second later, you rose back up to your feet. At least this masked man wasn't giving her nightmares. 

“Let's get you back to bed, alright?” you suggested.

With a hand on her shoulder, you guided her across the room and back over to her sleeping bag. Despite being grateful that everything was alright after how terrified her screaming had made you, you really weren't a fan of her constantly waking at night because of this imaginary man. 

“He is real,” she whispered.

Expelling a soft sigh, you helped your daughter get back into her sleeping bag, tucking her in as you smiled down at her. If she wanted to believe some man on the roof was keeping you safe, you weren’t about to tell her that she was wrong.

“Alright, Evie,” you replied. “But it's late. You should get back to sleep. You can tell me all about it in the morning. Okay?”

You leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek before gently smoothing her hair. Telling her goodnight one more time, you got up and made your way back out of the room. But before you shut the door after yourself, you caught her quiet voice once more behind you. 

“He is real.”

[reveryfics]

not scott this time. waaa

bucky x reader with a prosthetic ?

any reason why reader would have it is fine (born without said limb, military service?, or reader is a type of supersoldier aswell).

just fluff,, bonding because of it. maybe angst ? insecurities would definitely play in it. aaa

🪲 anon

Connections

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: You knew Sam from your military service, a connection that persisted even after your discharge due to the loss of your arm. Now, he'd somehow persuaded you to meet his friend, convinced the introduction would be beneficial.

A/N: How petty is it for me to get a little frustrated my Marvel fics do so much better then fics I put effort into? Anyway more dialog then planned, but enjoy.

TW: Fluff - Soft angst

The late afternoon hum within the coffee shop was a low, comforting drone, a stark contrast to the usual lunchtime rush. Sunlight slanted through the large front windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, thick with the rich, grounding aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet, buttery scent of pastries just pulled from the oven. You had chosen a booth tucked away near the entrance, a strategic vantage point that allowed you to keep an eye on the door. The worn vinyl of the seat conformed to your posture as you cradled a lukewarm mug, the ceramic warming your hands. Your gaze, however, was fixed on the glowing screen of your phone, your thumb tracing and retracing the lines of Sam’s last text, a digital reassurance that his friend was indeed on his way.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a quiet exhale of the anxiety that had been tightening its grip all afternoon. Almost unconsciously, your other hand tugged at the cuff of your jacket, smoothing the fabric down to completely conceal the cool, matte finish of the metal and composite of your prosthetic arm. A prickling sensation crawled across your skin, the unwelcome feeling of phantom eyes boring into you, of hushed whispers dissecting your difference. You shifted uncomfortably, the silence amplifying your self-consciousness, until the gentle chime of the bell above the door announced a new arrival.

Your head snapped up, a genuine, albeit small, smile blossoming on your face. There, framed in the doorway, was Bucky Barnes. He was instantly recognizable from Sam’s description – the broad shoulders, the intense gaze – though his hair was shorter than you’d pictured. A pleasant surprise, you thought, the neat cut suiting his strong features. You pushed yourself up from the booth, the lingering tension in your shoulders easing slightly as Bucky’s eyes scanned the room, finally locking onto yours. He offered a warm smile in return as he navigated the few steps towards your table.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a low, steady rumble, extending a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” you echoed, your own hand reaching out to meet his. The moment your hands met, a subtle awareness shifted in his eyes. His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to the smooth, cool surface of your prosthetic where it met his palm. Understanding dawned in his expression, a quiet acknowledgment of something Sam had perhaps intentionally left unsaid. It clicked – the reason for this somewhat unconventional setup.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you offered, the words tumbling out a little faster than intended, a nervous energy propelling you. “My treat.”

“Oh, no, I can grab something,” Bucky replied, a polite refusal in his tone.

“It’s really no problem,” you insisted, needing the small task, the brief reprieve from the intensity of the initial meeting. He seemed to sense your underlying unease, the subtle tremor in your voice. Instead of arguing, a knowing look crossed his face.

“Alright,” he conceded gently. “I’ll take a coffee then. Black, if they have it.”

“Perfect,” you said, already turning towards the counter, the movement a welcome distraction. As you walked away, Bucky pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen in a quick text to Sam: You uh… forgot to mention the arm.

The line at the counter was mercifully short. You ordered Bucky’s black coffee and impulsively asked for a refill of your own, the need for something to occupy your hands and calm the persistent flutter in your stomach overriding any concern about caffeine intake. Balancing the two steaming cups, you made your way back to the booth. You placed Bucky’s coffee in front of him and carefully set your fresh mug beside the nearly empty one you’d been nursing.

Bucky’s gaze fell on the discarded cup. “Sorry if I took too long,” he said, a hint of apology in his voice.

You waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, not at all. I was actually… incredibly early. Needed the caffeine to try and talk myself out of bolting.” A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped you.

Bucky let out a soft breath, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly. “That… that makes a lot more sense now. Sam can be… subtle. Look, I’m not going to force you to stay, or even talk about… anything you don’t want to.”

You hummed in response, leaning back against the worn upholstery of the booth. “I appreciate that,” you said, meeting his gaze briefly before looking down at your new cup. “Honestly? If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind just… sitting in silence for a bit. Enjoying the company, so to speak.”

Bucky didn’t reply verbally, but the faint, reassuring smile that touched his lips spoke volumes. The comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle clatter of mugs and the low murmur of conversations around you.

Eventually, Bucky’s voice, a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through the quiet hum of the coffee shop, cut through the stillness. “You were military?” he asked, his tone neutral, almost hesitant.

You looked up from the swirling dark liquid in your mug, surprised by the question. You hadn’t expected him to broach the topic, especially not so directly. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little rougher than you intended. “Yeah, I uh… I was.” It felt strange to say it aloud to a stranger, your military service a chapter you mostly kept closed, the focus having been on moving forward, on adapting to a life that was irrevocably changed. Only Sam knew the details, the stories you’d shared in the quiet intimacy of your friendship.

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to his own cup. “I… I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

You shook your head, your hands coming up to rest on the tabletop, the cool ceramic a grounding presence beneath your fingertips. “It’s okay,” you said, meeting his eyes again. “I’m sure you had it way worse anyhow.” The words were out before you could fully process them, a reflexive attempt to deflect, to minimize your own experience in the face of his unspoken history.

A thoughtful silence fell between you. Bucky’s gaze was steady now, a quiet curiosity mingled with something akin to understanding. “The forties were… different,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “No comparison to… whenever you served.”

You nodded, a small smile touching your lips as you thought back to your own boot camp experience. “Yeah, I can imagine. Though, some things are universal, I think. Like the sheer exhaustion. I remember meeting Sam… he was throwing up next to my bunk after our first full day of running in the desert heat. Looked like he was about to swear off physical activity for life.”

A genuine laugh rumbled in Bucky’s chest, a warm, unexpected sound that eased some of the remaining tension in the air. “Sounds about right,” he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. The shared moment of levity seemed to bridge a small gap between you.

The atmosphere shifted, becoming a little more comfortable, a little more open. Bucky’s expression turned slightly more serious. “Would you… would you be okay sharing what happened with your arm?” he asked, his voice gentle, respectful. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question hanging in the air. It was still a raw subject, a constant reminder of a life irrevocably altered. But something about Bucky’s quiet sincerity, the unspoken understanding you sensed in him, made you nod. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah, I can talk about it.”

You took a slow breath, the memory still vivid, still sharp despite the passage of time. “It was… deployment,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. The coffee shop noise seemed to fade into the background as the memory took hold. “We were on patrol, just outside the wire. Routine. That’s what they always said. Routine. And then… there was this deafening sound, a flash of light… and then… nothing. Just… pain. So much pain. When I woke up… it was gone.” Your voice cracked, the carefully constructed wall of composure momentarily crumbling. You could still feel the phantom ache, the ghost of a limb that was no longer there. The sterile white of the medical tent, the hollow, pitying stares of the medics, the crushing weight of the realization – it all flooded back. You swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in your throat, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Just… gone.”

Bucky’s gaze was unwavering, filled with a profound empathy that mirrored the pain in your own heart. He knew that hollowness, that sudden, brutal absence. “I’m… I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I understand… more than you know.”

You managed a weak smile, a watery acknowledgment of his words. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah, I figured. I think… I think that’s why Sam set this up. We both… felt a little alone in it, you know?” A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “But… talking to you… it actually… it helps. It’s like… a weight has lifted, just a little.”

A genuine smile spread across Bucky’s face, softening the hard lines of his jaw. “I feel the same way,” he admitted, his eyes warm. He paused for a moment, a hopeful glint in his gaze. “Hey… would you maybe want to… go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”

A chuckle bubbled up from your chest, a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. “Yeah,” you said, pushing yourself up from the booth. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The autumn air was crisp and cool against your skin as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. The late afternoon sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows that stretched and danced with each step. Leaves, in hues of fiery red, burnt orange, and golden yellow, crunched softly under your shoes as you and Bucky walked, an unspoken understanding guiding your aimless path. The sounds of the small town – the distant hum of traffic, the laughter of children playing in a nearby park – faded into a comfortable background noise. As dusk began to settle, painting the sky in shades of lavender and deep blue, you continued walking, the silence no longer charged with nervousness but filled with a quiet camaraderie.

Finally, Bucky broke the comfortable stillness. “I really enjoyed talking with you,” he said, turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. “Would you… would you want to do this again sometime?”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face. You turned to fully face him, the faint glow from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the warmth in your eyes. “I would love to,” you replied, the words honest and heartfelt.

A mutual smile lingered in the twilight between you, a silent agreement hanging in the cool evening air. The streetlights flickered to life, casting a soft, yellow glow on the sidewalk ahead. You fell back into a comfortable silence, the earlier anxieties replaced by a sense of unexpected ease. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet became the soundtrack to your shared walk, each step in sync without conscious effort.

As you rounded a corner, the scent of woodsmoke hung faintly in the air, a nostalgic aroma that spoke of cozy evenings and crackling fireplaces. A gentle breeze rustled the remaining leaves on the trees, creating a soft, whispering sound. Bucky tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze drifting towards the darkened windows of the houses you passed.

"It's beautiful here," he commented quietly, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of the evening. "The colors of the leaves... it reminds me of a time I almost forgot."

You glanced at him, intrigued. "A good memory, I hope?"

A faint, melancholic smile touched his lips. "Complicated," he admitted. "But… yeah. There was a certain beauty to it, even then." He didn't elaborate, and you sensed it wasn't a story he was ready to share, and you respected that unspoken boundary. You knew what it was like to hold stories close, guarding them against the casual curiosity of the world.

You shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Autumn has always been my favorite," you said, your gaze drawn to the vibrant hues that still clung to some of the branches. "It feels like… a letting go, but also a promise of something new. A quiet kind of strength."

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. "I can see that," he murmured.

You walked on in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the rhythm of your steps a soothing presence. You noticed a small park ahead, the swings swaying gently in the breeze, the slide gleaming faintly under the streetlight.

"Do you want to maybe… sit for a bit?" you suggested, gesturing towards a nearby bench.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Bucky agreed.

You settled onto the cool metal of the bench, the night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the coffee shop. The park was deserted, lending a sense of peaceful solitude to the moment. The only sounds were the gentle creaking of the swings and the distant hum of the city.

Bucky leaned back against the bench, his gaze fixed on the star-dusted sky that was beginning to deepen into a velvety black. "You know," he said after a while, his voice soft, "Sam… he's a good friend."

"He is," you agreed, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of your steadfast companion. "Sometimes… a little too… enthusiastically helpful." A small smile played on your lips. "But always with the best intentions."

Bucky chuckled softly. "Yeah, I've gathered that. He can be… persistent."

"That's one word for it," you laughed quietly. "But I wouldn't trade him."

Another comfortable silence settled between you, this one feeling even more natural, more connected than before. You both seemed content to simply exist in each other's presence, sharing the quiet beauty of the autumn night.

After a while, Bucky turned to you, his expression earnest. "So," he began, a hint of a smile in his eyes, "about doing this again… are you thinking… coffee again? Or maybe something… less caffeinated?"

You met his gaze, a genuine warmth blossoming in your chest. "I'm open to suggestions," you replied, your smile mirroring his. "Though, I have to admit, your company was far more stimulating than the coffee."

A soft laugh escaped him, a genuine, unguarded sound that made your heart do a little flutter. "Well then," he said, his eyes twinkling slightly in the dim light, "how about we skip the coffee altogether next time? Maybe… dinner? If you're up for it."

The suggestion hung in the air, a tangible possibility that felt both exciting and surprisingly natural. You didn't hesitate.

"I'd like that very much, Bucky," you said, your voice sincere.

He smiled, a genuine, open smile that reached his eyes. "Great," he said, a sense of anticipation in his tone. "How about… Friday?"

"Friday sounds perfect," you agreed, a feeling of lightness washing over you. The loneliness that had been a constant companion for so long seemed to have receded, replaced by a flicker of something hopeful, something new. As you stood up from the bench, the cool night air no longer felt isolating, but rather, a shared space under the vast, star-filled sky. You walked back towards the main street with Bucky, the crunch of leaves under your feet a gentle reminder of the unexpected beauty that could be found in the quiet moments of connection.

[darlingdekarios]

prūmia hen zaldrīzes.

"heart of the dragon."

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 8,317 content: Prince Aemond Targaryen x f!Lannister!reader, reader is a Lannister but is not given a specific description, Aemond is so salty and petty, arranged marriage, infidelity, smut [v fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v, creampie], kinks [biting, scratching, breeding]

when he is forced to watch his twin flame marry his brother, Aemond finds a solution for coping other than burning it all to the ground.

King’s Landing, 120 AC

“I’m sorry for your eye, Prince Aemond,” you whispered, your voice quiet and sincere as the boy you’d spent so many years of your childhood with avoided your gaze with the perfect eye he still had. “I came as soon as I was told what happened.”

All he could muster was a firm nod, the sweet boy you often encountered now tucked away inside crushing self-consciousness as he sat before you. Still, despite his unease at his bandaged face, he found it within himself to remark the pride he felt for himself. “I lost an eye but gained a dragon. I would make the trade again.”

You had to smile at his subtle insistence to impress you, to cover the aura of dread he seemed to be exuding. “A worthy trade indeed, my prince.”

His good eye finally found your face, his harsh resolve fading at the softness that covered your features. Only months younger than Aemond and the sole daughter of Lord Lannister, you had spent much of your childhood in the Red Keep beside the Targaryen children. With your father’s place at Viserys’ Court, you spent more time at the Capital than within the walls of Casterly Rock, and while Helaena had always been a wonderful friend, it was Aemond you often found yourself beside. Now, at the darkest night in his life, it would be no different, and the gratitude shown through his features. He could never hide his truest self from you. 

“My face doesn’t make you want to scream?” he questioned, the anger at his own mutilation doing wonders at hiding the genuine concern he felt at how you’d respond to his new appearance – even as a child, Aemond always basked in your approval. 

“Only because you must be in pain,” you reassured, your soft voice sincere in ways no one else ever was with him. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for you to laugh, so used to being on the receiving end of a joke these days but was met only with your kindness as your warm hand covered his own. With the subtlest of squeezes, you quieted your voice to barely above a whisper. “I shall put out Lucerys’ eye for your next name day.”

For the first time since the incident Aemond felt his lips curve into a light smile, anxiety’s grasp on his heart lightening. “Viserys says Lord Strong is not to be hurt,” he remarked, the distaste for his father’s decision and forsaking of his own son shining through his voice. “It is an embarrassment. It is shameful. I will have to sit here and have my bandages changed daily by…”

“Me,” you offered, your voice earnest and hopeful. If it would not cause him pain his eyebrows would have pulled together in visible bewilderment – why anyone would offer to see him in the state he was in was beyond him. You offered a gentle smile and gave his hand another squeeze, repeating your offer to help him understand. “I will have the Maester teach me the proper way tomorrow, and then I will do it for you, Aemond.”

It would both confuse and comfort Aemond every day for the coming months when you found your way to his door promptly, gentle hands providing a better, more caring bandaging than anyone else had offered. 

King’s Landing, 123 AC

“He is insufferable,” Aemond gritted through his teeth, his jaw popping in irritation as he fought to remain composed before you. You had seen him in much worse states than this in your younger years when he had less of a cool control over his emotions, but it had been quite some time since you had heard this tone behind his words. “Laughing at me because I don’t wish to bed whores like he does.”

“He is only jealous because he has to pay people to like him, my Prince,” you spoke, coming to sit beside him before his fireplace. His good eye met your gaze, the smallest bit of his frustration dissipating under your gentle expression. 

The years that had passed since he had lost his eye had only pulled the two of you closer together, your own mother having passed due to fever. Pained by the resemblance you bore to your mother, your father had all but abandoned you at the Red Keep – any time apart from one another was due to Aemond’s absence, not your own. In a world where both of you found backs turned to you, you always found one another – the familiarity so comforting it was impossible to give up. 

“Even still, my lady – his words have point,” he spoke, falling into the sweetness you presented him with. Resting your hand on top of his between the two of you, you held onto his every word – ever the one to make him feel important and desired. “I am thirteen and, according to Aegon, I’m hardly even a man because I won’t let one of his whores kiss me.”

The silence lingered as you soaked in his words, the crackling of the fireplace lulling you into a comfortable state. With his hand beneath yours you were once again reminded how warm Aemond was, and how it always seemed to invite you closer whether you were conscious of it or not. “Is it truly so important to have been kissed?”

“I care more for other things,” he stated simply, while inside his mind he found no calm. “But I do wish to have a reason to quiet him.”

A nod confirmed your understanding, a quiet hum leaving your lips in approval. Without much more than a minute of thought you leaned across to him, pressing your lips to his in a chaste, delicate and inexperienced kiss. Aemond, always quick to action, found for the first time in a long time he was caught off guard, frozen to his place as you gifted him (and yourself) his first kiss.

The next time Aegon taunted his younger brother for having not been kissed over dinner, Aemond was proud to report that he had, in fact. Despite the queen turning her head to analyze her son’s proud expression, she hadn’t missed the redness to your cheeks or the quick giggle you had to silence. Though she very easily could have, Alicent Hightower kept the kiss a shared secret – even from the two of you. 

King’s Landing, Winter 128 AC

Lowering your cloak’s hood and taking a step into the darkness you found yourself being pushed toward the stone wall, familiar hands grasping your shoulders. As you turned your gaze upward to take in the sight of his shining blue eye and eye patch you found the harshness of his expression. 

“What are you doing? Have you lost all sanity?” he questioned, leaning his face closer to yours. Now that he was a teenager, he had begun to tower over you, his height serving an obvious intimidation advantage. 

“I wanted to see you so I…I snuck through the castle and the city to here, and I thought…I’d find you down here,” you explained, your rationale doing nothing to soothe his pounding heart. “I’ve often wondered what the lower parts of the dragon pit were like.”

“I have heard curiosity often kills the cat,” he replied, one of his hands leaving your shoulder to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against the expanse of your cheek. “Dovodedha kēlītsos…this is no place for you.”

It was impossible not to lean into his hand more, embracing the warmth you so often craved these days. As Aemond grew older and responsibility loomed on his head, his hours training and hunting and flying grew, time away from you being a cruel result of that. And for your part, you had been returned to Casterly Rock a year prior due to your father wishing to keep you closer again, wishing to fend off those who sought betrothal to you, remarking often that none of them were good enough for his daughter. The most contact you’d received from your closest companion was through raven or middleman, the occasional visit atop Vhagar from him – when he had the time.

The moment you’d arrived in King’s Landing you’d wanted to see Aemond. And truth be told, if he had known of your arrival beforehand, there would have been nothing to keep him from greeting you. Your intention to surprise him by not giving warning of your visit had backfired, but Helaena had rescued the day by telling you where to find her brother. This close you could see the slick sweat to his brow, the subtle flare to his nostrils that signified his annoyance. 

It was a secondary feeling – what he truly felt was concern. 

“And yet I am still alive before you, unharmed, my Prince,” you taunted, your voice low and smooth and brimming with joy at being so near to him again. His hand on your cheek slid further, fingers entangling in your hair gently to refamiliarize himself with the texture. 

“Only because I found you first, kēlītsos.”

“I wanted to be found.”

The smallest smile formed on his lips, a gentle shake to his head further proving his amusement. “I have missed you and your recklessness. You truly have the bravery of a lion, though I doubt you have the nine lives.”

His smile was returned by your own, your hands finding way to either side of his neck delicately. “I have missed you as well, Aemond,” you spoke quietly, fingernails grazing his skin lightly on the back of his neck and creating goosebumps across his skin. 

Strong emotions rushing through him paired with the hormones of a teenager had him claiming your lips in a bruising kiss next, critical words lost to him as he lost himself in your features. This time, neither of you were caught off guard, the kiss returned immediately and met with a hum of approval. His grip on your hair tightened slightly as his tongue sought a taste of your lips, his own hum vibrating in his chest as your fingers found way to his hair as well. 

As you allowed your jaw to relax and his tongue to enter your mouth his free hand grasped your hip, pulling your waist forward and into his, so he could grind his hardening cock into you, greedily swallowing the moan it pulled from you. Recognizing the danger that going further posed he was the one to reluctantly break the hungry kiss, and he who resisted kissing you again as he escorted you to the Red Keep. 

If he had known taking you back to those who awaited you meant hearing his mother announce you were to marry Aegon, he would have fled with you atop Vhagar. Despite his best efforts, his family was still finding new ways to play jokes on him. This was the cruelest yet.

King’s Landing, Spring 129 AC

The months that followed were a harsh realization of your new reality. 

Ever since, that day had been the first thought to your mind in the morning and the thing that you cried yourself to sleep over every night. Though Alicent Hightower’s announcement that the King had decided to honor tradition and name his eldest son the true heir to the crown (something you felt had to do with how heavily sedated and agreeable he was, not that you’d voice that opinion to any other than Aemond), it was the second part of her speech that ripped your heart from your chest. You would wed her eldest son and unify the crown and the Lannisters, a truly monumental occasion for the realm. 

The words were those of two fathers – hers and your own – plotted with only greed in their hearts. Alicent did not relish in passing the news, and dreaded what it would do to her son, and yet that did not stop her from doing so. While you had attempted to make your objection to the match known, your words had no weight, and your future was decided behind your back. Aemond had returned to the Dragon Pit and did not return to the Red Keep for days. Even when he had returned, he would avoid you for the first time in your lives. 

It took only months for the betrothal to move forward. With King Viserys the Peaceful dead by Spring and the Conqueror’s crown placed upon Aegon’s head, it become imperative to demonstrate to the people of Westeros that their new King was worthy of the throne his father had bestowed on him. This of course meant marrying a woman from a highly regarded family and bringing children into his bloodline (not that he hadn’t already). 

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wi-“

The septon’s words were cut short by the familiar bellow of a creature far older than any other present, the familiar flap of impossibly large wings shooting a gust of wind directly over your wedding ceremony. The Queen of All Dragons landed with a harsh quake to the ground, your hand shooting out to the archway over you to steady yourself, Helaena rushing forward to assist you. 

“You’re late to your own brother’s wedding, Aemond,” Alicent Hightower hissed through her teeth, attempting to maintain the smile she had plastered on her face as she watched her eldest son ignore the opportunity to assist his betrothed.

“Truthfully, mother, you should be lucky I am here at all,” the one-eyed prince replied, the sincerity behind his words unsurprising. “It is blasphemous. The one person in this world I truly care for, that I have no obligation to do so, and you stick her with my cunt of a brother.”

“Your words are treason, Aemond. Aegon is your king now,” she chastised, her glare fixating on him momentarily with the brief turn of her head. 

“Apologies, mother – my cunt of a king,” he replied, stepping backward and away from further ridicule. His step was matched by his mother – one of two people he could never seem to hide from.

“Aemond…I know this is difficult for you, my sweet boy,” she began, her voice soft and diplomatic. A couple of years younger and he may have faltered, but not now. Not when he faced a waking nightmare before him. “I do hope that one day when you find a suitable wife for yourself, you will understand the decision we’ve made.”

“I will not find a suitable wife and I will not marry,” came his reply, voice unwavering and absolute. “If I am not to marry her, I am not to marry at all.”

“I have faith that you will see reason and change your mind.”

Aemond turned his face back to his mother, jaw popping in frustration as he did so. It was subtle, anyone unfamiliar with the prince would not notice the movement – his own mother did, of course. “The woman standing across from Aegon sat beside me while every stitch on my face was opened, the hole where my eye used to be pried apart, and a sapphire inserted into it. She never released my hand, she never looked away. And now you marry her to someone who can’t tell his own hand from a whore.”

“Be that as it may, it is done,” the former queen continued, the remorse in her voice showing itself slightly. She knew, all too well, what it was like to lose love because of duty. “We may talk about this more later, sweet boy.”

“There is no need, mother. As you say,” he continued, placing his arms behind his back carefully. “It is done.”

The remainder of the ceremony went without additional surprise. Aemond desperately wished to be free of this obligation, his annoyance showcased on his face regardless of whose eyes may have caught glimpse of him. His only comfort came from the look that remained on your face – solemn, unimpressed, unchanging; even when Aegon had kissed you. It was the first time Aemond had seen so very little of a reaction to one of his brother’s kisses, and the display of indifference both satisfied something deep with Aemond and caused his stomach to churn. Your wedding day should have been so much better than this – you deserved so much better than this, than Aegon. 

It was a relief to his unsettled stomach when he saw you alone on a balcony during the feast to celebrate you – to celebrate the marriage and the new queen. Still, even with the food, the wine, and the gifts, Aemond had not seen your lips curl to a smile once the entire day. Though he wasn’t entirely certain he could contain himself from doing something foolish by claiming this moment of your attention, he opted to throw that caution to the wind. You were his to be foolish with.

He sauntered toward you with hands behind his back still, pleased when you turned as he approached within an arm’s length of you. For the first time all day he watched as you rivaled the full moon behind you with a smile.

“My Prince,” you greeted, eyes flashing up at him in profound appreciation. 

“Your Grace,” he bowed his head slightly in return, a small smirk flashing on his features as he peered up at you between his lashes. He’d worn the eye patch you’d specifically had crafted for him in Lannisport – you had to wonder if it was an intentional show of your bond or not. He caught the way your eyes lingered, filled with uncertainty. Aemond was the first to put his swarming thoughts to spoken word.

“This should be our wedding day, kēlītsos,” he began, his eye burning into yours as he took a step closer – another and it may be considered indecent. “I wonder if that fact haunts you as it does me.”

Being this close to him always set your body alight, the heat blazing beneath every inch of your skin and begging for the coolness that accompanied his lips. “Every moment,” you replied, your voice quiet and so intentionally only for him. “You should have taken me across the sea on Vhagar where no one would follow or find us.”

The corners of his mouth barely twitched upward in a smile – the first you’d seen from him in months – your words almost pulling a growl from his chest. One of his gloved hands twitched toward yours, his fingers lightly grazing against your wrist, tempting him to pull you closer and closer until no one, not even his brother, could take you away from him. It was foolish to speak this way so openly with so many potential listeners nearby, but neither of you truly cared. “It may happen still.”

“Is this your way of telling me you love me, Prince Aemond? It is not immensely traditional, I’m afraid,” you taunted, eyes finding his face again and appreciating his features. “Though, I suppose it is your rebellious heart that has won my love, as well.”

“Sister,” Helaena greeted as she interrupted the moment between the two of you, his expression immediately hardening as he withdrew his hand from your wrist again. “I wish to walk in the garden with you before you retire to bed. Would you join me?”

With a final longing glance you departed, joining your sister-in-law for one of her nightly walks, growing ever-more dread-filled as the time passed and your return to your wedding duties continued. Soon enough, you thought, Aegon would be crawling between your legs, no doubt smelling like wine and dirt and dragons in the least endearing of ways. The thought made your stomach twist into knots more and more until the Princess had walked you back to your bedchamber, entering the warm room with you. 

“The dragon sings at the moon’s brightest hour.”

She departed then, leaving you alone with a puzzled look on your face as multiple handmaidens joined you to remove the elegant gown that weighed you down, allow you to bathe, and help you into night clothes, removing your hair from the intricate style to lay loose. They put more wood on the fire and withdrew, remarking that one of the girls, Marleya, would be around should you need her. It was ironic to know that your husband regularly found himself buried in her, when he was failing to fulfill his obligation to you on your wedding night. Between the walk and the routine the handmaidens had carried out, hours had passed, and while you still felt the looming dread that Aegon may call on you, it had twisted into something far more pathetic. Soon you were sat on the open window overlooking the city, fixing your eyes to the sky with a forlorn expression covering your face as you envied what it would feel like to be able to fly away at any moment.

You were not the only one in the Red Keep troubled by your thoughts, as Aemond found himself wandering the halls since you had departed from him. Though he tried to think of something else, anything else, he could not prevent his thoughts from wandering back to his brother likely consummating his marriage, claiming something from you he had no right possessing. It made him sick to think of the way Aegon would treat you for the first time, almost sick enough to manifest fully. 

He hadn’t planned to walk past Aegon’s room, and yet that’s exactly where his feet carried him shortly after 11, the familiar halls as he approached causing him to draw in deeper, steadier breaths, preparing himself for whatever he may hear. As he rounded the final corner he was greeted with the sight of his stumbling, drunken older brother holding the door to his bedchamber open for one…two…three…four…working women from King’s Landing, their quiet giggles being shushed by him until they were all nestled inside with him close behind. When the door closed with a heavy thud, Aemond released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. 

If Aegon was partaking in his usual activities, that meant you were alone. And while it pleased him to know his brother had not pulled you into his bed just yet, it also made the anger burn inside of him. This was, after all, your wedding night and you had looked so beautiful in his house colors – and now you were alone. 

It was approaching the middle of the night when your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Your Grace,” came the voice of Marleya. She was quiet, timid – not wanting to interrupt the state she knew you were in but unable to refuse what had been asked of her. “Apologies for the interruption. Prince Aemond has come to request a word with you, my Queen.”

When you heard the light fall of his boots against the stone floor you inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady your breathing so you could talk without giving away your emotional state. Although you wanted to seek the comfort you had so often found in his face you kept your eyes forward, back to him as you continued to look at the night sky. When his footsteps silenced relatively close behind your position you inhaled another deep breath to prepare yourself for whatever additional torment was fated for your night. 

“Your Grace,” came his quiet timbre, the moniker pulling a sigh from you. Hearing anything but your name from him sounded so foreign – so wrong. 

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” you managed in response, mentally thanking yourself for the composure you kept over your words. 

“I have come to pass news of your…good husband,” he began, his words laced with venom and disgust. Judging by his words, your handmaiden had lingered in the bedchamber, so you were not alone with another man – improper indeed on your wedding night. “I feel it best if the information is delivered between family.”

You briefly turned your head to direct a glance at the girl, who was not much younger than you, offering a light smile. “Thank you, Marleya. I am in safe hands with my…brother. You may retire for the night.”

The girl nodded before exiting, closing the door to the bedchamber as she went. Aemond watched her go, confirmed the door was closed with a lingering glance before turning his eyes to the back of your head. You had returned your gaze to the stars twinkling above the sky, wondering how it would feel to be there – to be so very far away. 

“I thought that your Grace should be informed that I have witnessed our King entering his own bedchamber not long ago,” he started, almost expecting you to turn to watch him speak. It was curious when you did not look in his face when he spoke. “He seemed to be quite full of alcohol. Not to worry, though, he had escorts to ensure his…satisfactory retirement for the night. You need not wait for his arrival here.” He watched as your shoulders lowered with the release of a shaky breath, the visible signification of your faltering anxiety. 

“Is this all, Prince Aemond? You’ve come to remind me my good husband is a drunken whoremonger?” you questioned; harsh words softened by the meekness in your voice. Despite your insistence to keep your face from him and hide your tears, your voice had begun to shake – as had your shoulders. Aemond was familiar with both. 

He stepped forward, the sound of his boots drawing nearer both sending your body alight and filling it with dread. When he stood just behind you his arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he had done so many times. You wondered if this would be the last. “What troubles you? I should think it is a comfort my brother will not summon you tonight,” he spoke lightly, lowering his head down to rest his chin atop your head. 

“A woman’s wedding is supposed to be the greatest day of her life,” you began, forsaking strength in his arms and relying on him to support you. “And yet I feel like my life has been ripped away from me.”

“It is unfair, your Grace,” he began, his warmth radiating through you and settling into a familiar comfort deep within you that only he could bring. His voice was so soft, so sincere, so unlike it had been each time you had heard him speak in the last few months. “My brother is a fool to ignore such a beautiful bride. You were art brought to life in our house colors.”

You released another deep breath you didn’t fully realize you were holding, the relaxation in your torso allowing him to wrap his arms around you tighter. Even now you wore the Targaryen colors – a thin black night dress and an even longer, lighter red robe. Aemond wanted nothing more than to pin you against the wall like the art he viewed you as – even more now with your face free of additions and hair left loose. You raised onto your knees, turning simultaneously to plant yourself in his arms fully, chest pressed to his in an inherently indecent manner consider your new titles. Neither of you had ever cared for such.

You titled your head back to allow him a true look at your face – cheeks streaked with tear trails, bottom lip red and swollen from your incessant biting, and eyes red, glossy and puffy from undoubted hours of crying. Even under the despair in your eyes he could see the lingering hope, the love that burned for him hiding in the depths and screaming to break free. He raised one hand to cup your cheek in it, the cool leather coming against your warm cheek cueing a shiver up your spine. 

Without giving you a chance to stop them more tears spilled over your cheeks, his glove soaking up the tears on one of your cheeks. Having spent so much time around Aemond in your life you knew what the subtle looks behind his remaining eye meant. That fact was doing nothing to help sedate the burning you felt for him as you met his gaze, facing the concern, the care and the longing he was harboring directly. The intensity caused your breath to catch in your throat.

“Īlē ñuhon, kēlītsos, [You were mine, little cat]” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eye. His perfect nose lightly brushed against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist tighter. He reveled in the way you melted to him, joining your form to his in a way that was so unique to the two of you. “I should have claimed you long ago.”

His thumb began to brush lightly against your cheek, the desire to free himself of his gloves and feel you again growing stronger. Your breath caught in your throat briefly before you found the word you sought in a language so different from your own, albeit hardly above a whisper. “Ñuhon.”

“Kessa, kēlītsos, [Yes, little cat]” he breathed, the tip of his nose kissing yours lightly. “Lions, like dragons, do not belong to people. We belong to ourselves. But you have always been mine, and I have always been yours.” He brushed your cheek again gently, his fingertips so uncharacteristically light as the fire behind his eyes burned into yours. “You may be his wife to the kingdom, but the gods know you are mine.”

You felt more tears spill over your lashes, a sigh falling from your lips as Aemond twisted his head barely, pressing his lips to one of your cheeks to kiss the tear away. You only melted into him further, nuzzling your face into his hand that still rested on your cheek. It was a crime to be certain, his next move – and yet there was nothing truly wrong with the way he turned his head again, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so soft it was nostalgic of the first you’d shared years ago now. Although you should have pulled away, or at the very least hesitated, you returned his kiss without second thought. When he spoke next his words were muffled by your lips.

“I came to do what my brother will not and give you a proper wedding night,” he began, pressing another kiss to your lips when his thought was complete. “If it is not your wish, stop me now. I will listen to your command – I will leave these walls and not speak of this again if you ask it.”

You almost hesitated, almost took a moment to consider your answer, but threw any caution to the wind by granting him another kiss – rougher, needier, more desperate and yet still softer than Aemond felt he’d ever deserve. He grasped you tighter, his fingertips indenting into the soft skin on your cheek as his other hand clutched the fine fabric on your lower back, holding you closer to him. 

“I do love you, kēlītsos [little cat],” he muttered against your lips, unwilling to pull away but needing to say the words aloud nonetheless. “I have thought the words so many times now and never found it in myself to say them, though I should have before now.”

His hands left you to work on his own tunic, content with baring himself in some way to you first as he awaited your response. Your lips claimed his in another kiss before you found quiet words to whisper to him. “I have loved you for so long, Aemond, but he…he would kill me for this.”

“He wouldn’t dream of ordering harm to you with me to face.”

How long had he been thinking about this? Had he wanted to do this for years? Had he been considering taking you for months before Aegon could leading up to your wedding, or had something finally snapped in his mind today? Regardless of when it had happened – his mind was made up, and there was nothing that could be said to change his mind. 

He discarded the thick black fabric from his torso to the floor, uncaring where it landed before he claimed your lips in another full kiss, his hands making busy with the thin tie around your waist. Craving the way he’d kissed you in the dragon pit only months ago you parted your lips for him, his tongue immediately staking claim on the warmth of your mouth. As he pushed the robe from your shoulders, he carefully placed the clothing on a surface close by, taking much more care in your belongings than his own. There was nothing worth doing so fast he couldn’t show you that he cared for you – deeply. The extra time would never be a bother with you.

He was thankful your night dress was thin and loose enough to slide down your shoulders carefully, his head bowing to press kisses down the top of one of your shoulders as he pushed the straps free, hands grasping your hips to pull you close. When the bare skin of your torsos met both of you released a sigh, Aemond tucking his head into your neck and holding you close for a moment, relishing in the warmth passing between the two of you. This close you could feel his heartbeat, and the raised skin of whatever wounds he’d found himself on the receiving end of already, so young in many ways and old in several more. 

His lips started trailing up your neck, pulling a quiet gasp from you as your hands grasped his shoulders. He slid his hands to your lower back again to hold you as close as possible as his lips trailed lower, brushing over your collarbone. Aemond had been patient, and he could be for a while longer – as long as he got to feel as much of you as possible beneath his fingertips and lips.

He held you against him tightly, moving the two of you in front of the fireplace so he could see your body under the warm glow of the flames. As you followed his silent instruction your hands slid down his torso, eyes running over every inch of him hungrily as your fingers traced over the old scars you’d felt against you moments ago. He grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head backward so you would gaze up at him, and with your attention where he wanted it, he reached his other hand to cup one of your breasts, rubbing his thumb over your already hardened nipple gently. He sank to his knees in front of you slowly, covering you with feather-light kisses as he went, his every movement laced with intent as his kisses trailed to your hips. 

Though the heat that spread throughout your body had created a fog that shrouded your mind, you found a moment of clarity. Reaching your hands to hold the sides of his face carefully and applying just enough pressure for him to respond you lifted him back up to you, sliding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder. You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before trailing them up the side of his face gently before brushing them, impossibly light and so full of love, across the lower part of the old scar that still brought him pain. The hand that still rested on his cheek slid to the back of his head, fingers dancing over the strap that secured the covering to his face. 

“Kostilus [please],” you whispered gently, your quiet request filling his ears and pulling a gentle sigh from his lips. “I don’t wish for you to be hidden from me, Aemond.” It was the only time you were assertive with him, running your nose along his cheek to press a kiss beneath his ear. His breath caught in his throat, hands grasping at your waist as a quiet groan rumbled in his chest. He gave a firm nod, and you immediately pulled the patch free from his head, lying it carefully on the lounge next to you before whispering a quiet thank you. 

“I see my sister has been teaching you to mind your manners in our ancestral tongue,” he purred, sliding one of his hands up your back to run his hand over your hair, encouraging you to look at him. The moment you tilted your head back for him he claimed your lips, only momentarily before he withdrew to give you a moment to run your eyes over his face appreciatively. 

“Vhagar is the most fearsome dragon alive, and she wears many scars,” you cooed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the upper half of the scar on his face, your hand resting on his cheek to allow your thumb to brush over the bottom half. “The strongest dragons always do.”

While he wanted to claim your lips again in a kiss, he couldn’t hold himself back any further, lifting you into his arms to carry you to the bed as he gazed down into your face with an expression that melted further into love the longer it went on. He laid you in the bed with your head against the pillow before he crawled between your legs, encouraging your legs apart with the gentle caress of his hands. His lips followed his fingers on their path, soaking in the quiet mewls that he was already pulling from you. With your sex bared to him he could see your wet arousal leaking from your entrance, your thighs slick with the arousal he’d brought on.

He slid one of his hands higher up your thigh, a singular finger gathering some of the slick before he brought it to his face, popping the digit into his mouth with an appreciative hum. A wave of heat crashed through you accompanied by a gasp as your mouth fell open, the expression pulling a quiet chuckle from him as he lowered his head down, licking a stripe up the inside of your thigh with another low hum.

“Every inch of you is more beautiful than my mind could have done imagined,” he whispered into your skin before pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh. With one last glance to your face, he moved forward, running his tongue between your folds and grasping your thighs, holding you down slightly as you moaned for him. Wanton and greedy, he ran his tongue through your folds several more times before he could speak again. “I should throw you atop Vhagar now and flee so my brother may never taste you.”

With those final parting words, he dove into your awaiting sex, his tongue devouring you hungrily as the knowingly quiet symphony of your moans filled the bedchamber. He flicked the muscle over your swollen bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck up slightly which only resulted in him grabbing you tighter, holding you against his face. Running his tongue downward again he dipped it inside your awaiting heat, groaning at the feeling. 

Alternating between licks and sucks against your sensitive clit and fucking his tongue into you hastened the pressure building inside your lower half, your breaths becoming desperate as your thighs shook against his head. Feeling your walls flutter around his tongue he finally connected a thumb to your clit, rubbing it with the gentlest of circles as white-hot euphoria blinded your vision, his other hand reaching to clamp down over your mouth to stifle the scream that left your chest. Disconnecting his mouth from you, he continued his gentle movements with his thumb, his eyes gazing up to your face like he’d just discovered some fabled hidden treasure.

“I could stay here for hours feasting on you, beloved,” he cooed, leaning forward to lap up more of your nectar with a low groan in his chest. 

“Please, Aemond…” you whined, already sensitive and satisfied and yet desperate for more. 

“You want me to keep my head between your thighs, my Queen?” he pondered with that cocky, overly smug tone that always made you squeeze your thighs together. Another quiet whimper fell from your lips as you shook your head, breaths still desperate and mind still hazy from your orgasm.

“No, Aemond, I need you…please,” you began, shifting your hips against his hand to attempt for more pressure as his lips began to trail back up your body. He flattened his hand against your mound, allowing you to rub yourself on him – your desperation doing nothing to sedate his smirk. “Kostilus [please]. Don’t be cruel to me.”

His lips reached yours then, a gentle kiss carefully tucked into the corner of your mouth before he settled himself between your legs, leaning back on his haunches carefully. “Daor sir, gevie mēre [not yet, beautiful one],” he began, raking his eyes over your flushed figure beneath him in appreciation. “I have to open you up for me first.”

The hand that was still settled at your core dipped lower, one of his fingers teasing at your entrance in slow, tantalizing circles. When he’d pulled another moan from you and watched your face falter as you did, he slipped his index finger into your awaiting velvet channel. He felt your body tense at the intrusion, your walls clenching around his finger immediately. He wiggled it slightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth – more-so in concentration rather than disappointment. 

“Lykirī,” he cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I cannot make you feel good if you don’t relax yourself for me, beloved.” You could only lean your forehead to his as you nodded, closing your eyes and inhaling in a deep breath. He withdrew the digit from you before thrusting it back in again slowly, the edges of his lips ticking upward as you released a quiet whimper. “That’s better.”

Within minutes he had relaxed you, his finger circling and wiggling inside of you with each thrust, pulling more moans from you as your body became accustomed to his movements. He added a second finger soon after, causing a gasp to fall from your lips and your hips to buck forward against his hand. Pressing another kiss to your lips he then trailed them lower again, sucking your swollen clit between his lips gently as he curled his fingers inside to rub against the rough patch behind your clit. 

“A-Aemond…” you moaned, earning a groan from him as he then flicked his tongue against your clit, massaging it gently as he continued to wiggle his fingers against the spot deep within you that was causing your thighs to begin to shake again. When he began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves again a second wave of euphoria washed over you, a rush of wetness covering his hand as he pleasured you through the orgasm. 

Removing his fingers from you and chuckling quietly and the whimper you released from the loss, Aemond moved to stand beside the bed, working himself free of his pants which had begun to painfully restrict his throbbing cock. Once his member was free, he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking himself as he watched your breathing return to somewhat of a normal state, eyes roaming over your body appreciatively and the wetness that already covered your bed clothes. 

When you opened your eyes again and turned your head to gaze up at him you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. His free hand grasped one of yours gently, guiding it upward toward his cock in silent suggestion. When you wrapped your lithe fingers around his member he threw his head back in a moan, the noise turning to a low, rumbling growl in his chest as you mirrored his stroking movements from moments before.

Unable to deny his needs any longer he climbed back onto the bed between your legs, sighing at the loss when you removed your hand from him but appeasing himself by rubbing his cock against your core. Wrapping his own hand around himself again, he rubbed his leaking head between your folds to gather some slick against it. “Beg me again, my love. You sound so gorgeous when you beg for me.”

“Please, Aemond,” you breathed out, wrapping your legs around his waist in knowing anticipation. “Kostilus [please].”

He pushed into you slowly then, his thick cock sliding into your entrance and pulling an almost too loud cry from your lips, the protest silenced by his lips soon. His lips molded to yours as your hot channel took inch by inch of him, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he finally felt your tight walls embrace him. When he was fully sheathed inside you, he licked across the seam of your lips, stilling his waist as he kissed you deeply for several moments. 

When your legs around his waist started to relax just a bit and your walls fluttered around him, he slowly withdrew from you before pushing his cock back in to the hilt, pulling away from the kiss to hear the moan that left your lips. 

“So tight,” he breathed against your mouth quietly, beginning to repeat his slow and intentional thrusts. “I should have been enjoying your little cunt for years now.”

You could only whine at his words, too overstimulated and focused on how full you felt and the lingering pain of being stretched this way for the first time to form coherent words. His hair fell beautifully over his shoulders and brushed against your torso with his movements, a piece covering his eye from your view. When you lifted a hand to move the piece away from his face he smiled, turning his head to press his lips into your fingers before moving his kisses to your neck.

“Oh, the way you feel around me…” he groaned before pressing a kiss beneath your ear, his pace already picking up slightly. You were so tight and warm around him and he had wanted you for so long, the sheer feeling of finally being inside of you was not going to allow him a long session with you. There would, of course, be others, likely even in the same night – but for now he could only give in to the pleasure filling every cell in his body. “I’m going to come back here every night until I have filled your womb with my babe.”

You nearly moaned too loud again, your walls fluttering around him at his brazen, forbidden words. He lifted his head to gaze into your eyes again, leaning to press a kiss against your lips to assist you with muffling your cries as he picked up his pace more, grinding his hips into yours each time he’d gone as far as he could go. Though you were already feeling weak you managed to nod enough for him to register, your confirmation pulling a smile across his face. 

“Oh, you like that, kēlītsos?” he questioned, giving another particularly slow and intentional thrust to massage his velvety head against the spot deep within you. You moaned his name quietly, a worthy award for his efforts. “You want me to empty my seed into you? Speak it.”

“Yes, Aemond,” you whimpered immediately, knowing he would require an answer, knowing he needed to feel that power over you. His pace picked up again as another growl ripped through his chest, the lewd sounds of your bodies joining together creating a dizzying symphony in the room that he would gladly listen to forever.

“We will create the perfect dragon,” he replied, letting his intentions be fully known on the chance you hadn’t understood yet. “Strong, and smart, and beautiful, and powerful…much better children than Aegon could hope to give you.”

You nodded your agreement, moving your lips against his slowly, almost cautiously in a kiss to silence another loud cry that came from his lips as he rocked against your cervix. One of his hands reached to grasp yours, lifting it above your head as he lowered his own to connect his mouth to one of your budded nipples, suckling at it with fervor in the hopes it would push you closer to the edge. 

Your breaths soon became more desperate, legs shaking around his waist as the hand that wasn’t being held in his found way to the back of his head, your fingers lacing into his hair. He disconnected his mouth from your tit with a gentle bite to your nipple, an almost sinister smirk covering his features as you cried out for him again. “Will you release for me again, beloved? Find euphoria with me,” he almost begged, quickly adjusting his words to a simple instruction. 

You nodded, vision going white again as he reconnected his mouth to yours, kissing you with more passion than he had thus far. With your walls clenching him tightly he found his own release, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls as a loud cry of his own ripped through his chest, thankful once again that your mouth swallowed most of the volume. 

At the same time Aemond’s sound of pleasure filled the bedchamber the familiar cry of Sunfyre was heard above the castle, an interruption in the night sky no doubt caused by the new king taken a drunken flight to impress his chosen whores for the night. As Aemond released your mouth from his when his orgasm had finished, he leaned his head against your shoulder to speak through bated breaths. 

“Perhaps he will fall from his dragon and become so injured I must rule in his stead.”

masterlist.

[vanteguccir]

Hey guys! I actually spent long minutes staring at these reblogs and debating whether it was worth responding and talking about or not. But as I'm not the type to take hate and keep quiet, I decided to talk about it.

First of all, Reia, you really seem like a person who doesn't read many fanfics for the way you put it in your text, so I'll explain the meaning of the word. Fanfic, short for "fan fiction", is a story written by a fan based on characters, universes, or real people (like the triplets). Fans create their own narratives, expanding or reimagining everything, creating their own version, which in real life does not exist OR, as writers, we often draw inspiration from real-life events too.

And yes, you and Evangeline are trying to be "fanfic police" and even "sturniolo police", if you scroll through the thousands of Sturniolo Triplets fanfics, you will come across A LOT where Matt, Nick or Chris go through situations of anxiety attack, panic attack, OR where the "reader" herself goes through this, sometimes even involving situations way worse than that. Furthermore, there's thousands of fanfics describing explicit sex scenes with them, the famous smuts, does that bother you too? Because in the world of someone who writes a FANFIC in here, it doesn't.

And yes, I was indeed writing about the meet and greet situation, and this was nothing new to ANYONE in the fandom WHO READS THE FANFICS HERE. I even made a post the day before ASKING who would like to read the idea, and you want to know the news? All 200 people who voted wanted it.

I understand that you feel this story is disrespectful FOR YOU, especially because it touches on a real-life situation that may be sensitive or painful for some people. I want to assure you that it was never my intention to cause harm or disrespect anyone involved in that situation.

I myself am diagnosed with chronic anxiety, and even so, I didn't feel affected by the way I wrote. In fact, I described how I feel during MY anxiety attacks.

In no way did I make fun of the situation Matt went through, in fact, my intention in writing this story was to explore Matt's complexity and show how he deals with real problems, such as anxiety. It was a way to give more depth to his situation during the tour and highlight the importance of the emotional support he receives from "Y/N". It was not my intention to mock him, but rather to explore his humanity and the challenges he faced, and I know with all the certainty in the world that I did not mock him, much less affect the people who read the story.

Please, I ask you to reevaluate the need to throw hate at a person who has nothing to do with your outside the box opinions of what WRITERS ON THE STURNIOLO'S TUMBLR should or shouldn't write about.

There are thousands of posts on Instagram and TikTok from "fans" really mocking Matt and throwing hate at him about "their bad experiences" during one of the shows, these are the people you should be giving a piece of your mind to, not me. 🩷

[minswriting]

hi dear, I just saw that you sre taking requests and just ran here 🥹🥹🙏🏻 could you maybe do a aaron hotchner x reader, where he just confesses his love for her? maybe in a tense situation or something? thanks 🥹🥹🩵

note: this may be really bad because i’m not good with non smut related things lol. but i tried my best pookie

warnings: hostage situation (unsub kidnapped hotch and reader), love confessions, emotions, angst, general criminal minds related issues, etc.

you woke up with a throbbing pain in your head as you opened your eyes to a dark room. your eyesight was blurry, probably from a concussion you likely had. you could feel it. as you tried to move your wrists, you realized they were bound.

the last thing you remembered was walking into the abandoned storage house with hotch and next thing you knew, you were waking up in a dark room. and then it clicked that you had been kidnapped. you looked around, desperately trying to see if aaron was in the room as well. and that’s when you felt movement against your back.

the two of you were tied up together, your backs against one another.

“hotch-“ you whispered only to be shushed by him.

“be very quiet,” he whispered back. “we’ve been taken. i’m not sure how long it’ll be until the others find us.”

you nodded your head though you knew he couldn’t see it. how you saw it was that this was a highly dangerous situation. the unsub you guys were close to catching was a man who wanted to make a name for himself, having a personal vendetta against the BAU and causing the most gruesome murders. to be tied up in his warehouse, well it wasn’t a positive situation. and you knew aaron was scared too.

“what do we do?” you whispered. your hands were tied behind your back but you tried your best to reach for aaron’s fingers, seeking to comfort him and yourself.

“there isn’t much we can do,” aaron said, squeezing your fingers. “except try to talk him down. but we profiled that he wouldn’t go down easily and that he would likely go down with suicide by cop. he will not listen to reason.”

you bit your lip, swallowing. the situation didn’t seem to have a positive outcome regardless of how you looked at it. either you and aaron were dying or the unsub will die trying. to say you weren’t ready was an understatement.

and without thinking, you simply said “i love you,” very quietly. thinking that you were going to die really puts a stop to anxieties towards admitting your feelings. perhaps that’s why a lot of people admit to things when on their deathbeds.

aaron tensed for a moment before swallowing. your words had made him tear up as he heard the rawness in your tone. “i love you too,” he said back to you.

those words alone provided a comfort to you. that even if you were to die, you’d die knowing the man you loved indeed loved you back. and that’s all we need right? to know that we are loved in death just as much as we are in life.

[bosbas]

Epilogue: quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

series masterlist previous part || alt ending

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 2.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (except not really anymore), alluding to sex, benedict being so down bad for this woman (like down horrendous), this woman being so down bad for benedict, pregnancy and discussions around pregnancy

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: i am so sad to let these bbs go i love them so much!! i will simply have to write drabbles because they are so dear to me oh my

January 3, 1819 – Y/N

A happy new year indeed! I missed you all terribly during the holiday season this year, but John and I had a wonderful time here in Scotland with Michael. It snowed beautifully on Christmas Day, and it made me think of all of you and our often violent snowball fights on your birthday.

In fact, I believe this letter should reach you at around that time, so I am sending you the brightest of birthday wishes as well! While I won’t be able to attend your celebration this year, seeing how we’ll still be at Kilmartin House, I am sending you a wonderfully tight hug and hoping your day is incredibly special. Hit one of my siblings with a snowball for me, please! Preferably one of the boys, but really anyone will do. 

Love from your sister, Francesca

You squinted your eyes in your dimly candlelit bedroom, unsuccessfully attempting to undo the tiny buttons on your dress. Perhaps it was the undercurrent of nervousness that had been moving through you the whole day, but you found your fingers were shaking so much that you couldn’t hold them still for long enough to unclasp the buttons on your back. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you accepted that you were simply not going to be able to do this by yourself, and you gripped the edge of the chest of drawers in front of you as you willed your voice to come out sounding more carefree than you were feeling at the moment.

“Ben, darling, are you still upset about earlier?” you called across the room.

A small huff escaped his lips as he shifted on an armchair in the corner, murmuring something about betrayal and honor without looking up from his book. You smiled and held back a laugh, anxieties momentarily soothed. Per Francesca’s request, you had hit Benedict less-than-gently in the chest with a tightly packed snowball during your annual snowball fight earlier today, and he had taken it quite to heart. Well, that and the fact that you had sneakily teamed up with Hyacinth and Gregory without telling him. It really wasn’t your fault, you reasoned. Benedict had thought you would go easy on him simply because you were married to him, which, of course, was a foolish thing to think. Though he wasn’t as competitive as you were, evident in your much more successful Pall Mall record, you knew today’s loss still stung.

“Well, do you think could find it in you to help me with my dress?” you raised your eyebrows pointedly. “Or are you still feeling too betrayed?”

He immediately looked to meet your eyes, grudge completely forgotten as he nodded excitedly and rushed over to you from the armchair he had previously been sitting in. It was rather endearing that Ben was still giddy every time you asked for his help undressing, even after four years of marriage. 

After a few moments of Benedict concentrating intensely on the buttons on your back, you teased, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He hummed in assent and smiled at you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, immensely. It certainly makes up for earlier, I think,” he winked as he fiddled with the buttons. 

Honestly, you were inclined to think that Benedict had been secretly asking your seamstress to make the buttons smaller on each new dress she made you so you would have no option but to ask for his help. Even so, you wouldn’t have minded. You, too, enjoyed his sturdy hands on your back, his deft fingers fiddling with your dress and his lips softly kissing your shoulders as you told him about your day.

“A well-deserved win today, Mrs Bridgerton,” he said, never quite growing tired of how sweet the title sounded coming from his mouth. “And on your birthday no less. A stellar performance. I suppose I’ll have to start recruiting Simon and Daphne’s children to help me against the lot of you from now on. And then when we have ones of our own I can form a small army and I will never lose again.”

Your heartbeat sped up a fraction, but you were saved from having to answer when he undid the last button and your dress fell to the floor. Benedict placed his hands on your shoulders and gingerly turned you around to face him, drawing in a sharp breath as he took in your figure covered by nothing but your chemise, completely mesmerized by you. But he was quickly drawn out of his awe when he noticed your nervous eyes shifting around the room. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on your elbow and drawing you closer. “I wasn’t truly upset about today, I promise. I rather enjoyed seeing you, Gregory, and Hyacinth absolutely obliterate everyone else. It was only a slight inconvenience that I was one of the people you were obliterating.”

You shook your head, sending him a small smile. “No, no don’t worry, Ben. It’s not that at all,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder tiredly, an entire day of worrying having taken a toll on you.

“But it is something, then,” he prodded, desperate to find out what was making you so anxious. 

You said nothing, fiddling nervously with the hem of his waistcoat instead. Benedict, on his part, was growing increasingly alarmed. Usually, he could instantly tell exactly what was plaguing you, but you were being oddly evasive, and he was at a loss. Perhaps the best thing to do was to let you rest and broach the subject tomorrow morning, so he tugged on your hand and sat you down on the bed.

“It’s alright, darling,” he said, softly kissing your forehead. “I’ll ring for some tea, and we can get ready for bed.”

“I think I’m pregnant,” you blurted out before he could let go of your hand to go ask for some tea from the kitchen. Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you immediately felt a weight lifted off your shoulders as you said the words aloud.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Pregnant. With child.” 

“With my child?”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” you responded, laughing.

He instantly relaxed, rolling his eyes and engulfing you in a tight hug. “Oh, shut up, woman! I was merely trying to process the news,” he laughed, ecstatic that there would soon be a tiny version of one of you running around the house. He looked at you, eyes shining, and shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. 

“So, you’re happy?” you asked, anxiety still lingering in the back of your mind. It had been four years, after all. Your marriage had happened rather hastily, considering the years the two of you had spent pining after one another, and you had decided to revel in your romance for a while before having children. And eventually, you had wanted them. It was just slightly frightening to know that the time had actually come. You were excited, of course. You couldn’t imagine a better life than one where you raised children alongside your best friend, but you couldn’t help the nervousness you felt as you locked eyes with Ben.

“Happy? I’m over the moon, darling,” he said giddily and pushed you back on the bed so he could plant kisses all over your face. 

“If I knew it would be like this I would’ve gotten pregnant earlier,” you joked as Benedict moved on to kiss your neck and your breathing got heavier. 

---

You awoke quite suddenly, sitting up in bed so abruptly that Ben’s arm, which had previously been wrapped around you with his hand placed on your stomach, fell away from your body entirely.

Benedict grumbled in protest, noticing your absence even in his sleep. Typically, you slept on your side, with Benedict wrapped around you until the moment you woke up. Despite your racing heart, you smiled down at him, placing a soft kiss on his temple and sliding yourself back into his arms. 

But your attempts to fall back asleep were futile. You had stopped tossing and turning but found yourself lying on your side, staring at the wall opposite you while you felt Benedict’s chest rising and falling against your back as he breathed. 

“S’wrong?” Benedict asked sleepily, sensing that you were still awake.

Not wanting to disturb his sleep more than you had already, you whispered, “No, it’s nothing, Ben. You can go back to sleep.”

But Benedict was having none of it. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, turning you around to face him. “That’s alright. I was awake anyway,” he lied, voice husky with sleep. “What’s wrong? I’m incredibly awake. Awake. I am awake.” 

“Sounds like it,” you said, laughing at him softly. You leaned up and pecked him on the lips, secretly thankful for his unrelenting line of questioning. 

Blinking the sleep from his eyes and leaning on his arm to face you, Ben looked at you and smiled fondly. “I am! Promise.” Then, tracing his fingertips on your arm, he pressed you a bit more. “It’s just me, darling. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m a bit scared,” you whispered. “Actually, I’m terrified. Terrified of becoming a mother, and of having to take care of an entire other human being, and of what it might change between us. Is this what you really want? Having a child?”

Benedict’s fingers never stopped moving as he thought of how to best address your fears, knowing the motion calmed you down. “Having a child with you,” he corrected. “Of course it’s what I want! I get to see a little bit of you in an entirely different person. And you’re my favorite person. So, I don’t really see a downside.”

You hummed thoughtfully, feeling slightly calmer. “But what if I’m a bad mother? What if our child is unhappy?” you cried, tears brimming your eyes as you thought of the endless scenarios in which you failed as a mother.

“What if you’re a great mother? And our child is happy?” Ben countered. “Look at how you are with Gregory and Hyacinth. How you’ve always been with them. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Y/N. Besides, we’ll learn how to be parents at the same time and it’ll be something we do together.”

Nodding thoughtfully, you interlocked your fingers with Benedict’s. “I suppose you’re right,” you conceded. “It will certainly be a hell of an adventure.”

Sensing that you had calmed down significantly, Ben added cheekily, “Don’t forget you’ll finally have someone else you can force to listen to your ramblings about literature.”

You smacked Benedict playfully. “You enjoy the ramblings, might I remind you,” you replied airily. 

Kissing the top of your nose, he tucked your hair behind your ear and winked. ”Mm, I believe I did admit to this, yes.” Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke up gently, “What about you?”

“What about me?” you asked.

“Is having a child what you really want?”

Your heart melted a bit. Even after he woke up in the middle of the night to have a chat with you and was clearly exhausted, he was still making sure you were alright. “Well, obviously. I’m thrilled! Especially now you’ve brought up the fact that I can have a book club of my own. If it’s a boy, I bet he’ll be just like you. A tiny Benedict running around the house ruining our expensive furniture with acrylic paint.”

“And if it’s a girl we’ll name her Daisy, right? Flower names and all that,” he replied sleepily, relieved you were finally easing into the idea of motherhood. “She’ll be just as smart as you are, I bet. I’ll give her the flower encyclopedia as well so she can know where her name came from. I think the one I gave you is still at Bridgerton House. I’m sure we could find it if we look.”

You gasped, having forgotten about your childhood plans to name your daughter after a flower. “Oh, that would be so darling!”

Benedict laughed softly, kissing you and pulling you back into his arms. “It would, wouldn’t it? Do you want to go back to sleep?” he asked, burying his nose in your hair as his eyes fluttered shut. You nodded, squeezing the hand that was nearest to you and interlocking your fingers. 

Ben was fast asleep soon after, but you spent a few moments looking at his sleeping form, chest rising and falling as his breathing deepened. Your heart swelled with love for this silly boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was your husband now! Even after four years, you couldn’t quite believe how lucky you’d gotten. And you would get to raise a child together now. You really couldn't imagine anything better.

—

previous part || alt ending || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirlloriannaa @loliakeoghan23 @cierrajhilll @sadprose-auroras @merlieve @khaylin27 @cherrytop02 @little-duck @angerpearl @shondlenoodle @lyssamay52 @bags10 @angerpearl

[sansaorgana]

Hi! Please take your time with everything's that's going on for you at the moment and if you don't want to write this that's absolutely fine!!

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of me getting out of an abusive relationship that lasted 6 years so it's been ups and downs today with celebrating and grief. If it's okay, can you maybe write a Buck fic where he's there for the reader (his girlfriend) whose in a similar situation? I've spent the day binge watching MOTA and I just want a cuddle from Buck aha

I completely get it if you don't want to write this because I know its pretty heavy stuff and I hope everything gets better for you soon! Enjoy that bottle of wine!!!

hi, darling! thank you for your request and I'm terribly sorry you had to wait so long because I have just checked and you sent it to me in the beginning of April 🤧 it is a quite heavy topic indeed and I hope I did it justice... Buck and Reader are married here but she had a husband before – I thought this sort of situation would suit this time period the most 💝

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Buck’s day started as usual – getting ready for work in the morning as he shaved his face, combed his hair and put the clothes on that you had ironed for him on the evening before. He walked downstairs to have breakfast and spotted a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and a toast already waiting for him with a cup of coffee. He smiled to himself and approached you standing by the window to give you a kiss on the cheek before sitting down by the table to eat. From the corner of his eye he noticed that you were quite nostalgic and sad this morning but he didn’t want to push you into telling him what was wrong because perhaps the answer was “nothing” and you were just tired.

However, you were unusually quiet, staring out of the window with a cup of your own coffee in your hand as you watched the birds outside on the tree’s benches but the beverage was long forgotten in your hand. Buck hadn’t seen you sipping on it at all and he was sure it was cold now.

“Is everything alright, love?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded your head with a shy smile but the look you gave him was brief and unusually unfocused as if you were trying to avoid his gaze.

Buck decided not to push you, especially now when he was before work. He decided to ask you more in the evening if your mood would still be so odd. However, when he was finishing his scrambled eggs, you suddenly opened your mouth again.

“You know, today’s the day… It’s the anniversary of my divorce with… With him,” you sighed and finally took a sip of your cold coffee.

Buck’s shoulders stiffened at those words. He had no idea about the anniversary taking place today out of all days and every mention of your ex-husband felt like a punch in the guts. Not because he was jealous or something – he had no reasons to be and he knew that – but because he was aware what that man had been like and how he had been treating you.

You had been already divorced when you had met Buck and some people had been warning him about getting into a relationship with a woman “with the past” but Buck had known better. He had known you and he had known “your past” from you. He couldn’t blame you for falling in love and he couldn’t blame you for leaving a man like that son of a bitch. He hadn’t known how to appreciate a woman like you, he had been taking advantage of your love and devotion.

Buck was not like that. He was patient with you, he was understanding, he was protective. He had promised to take care of you, to help you heal as you were helping him to heal after the war. It was a peaceful and cosy marriage that had lasted about a year now but he knew that the demons of your past would sometimes show up. Just like his did – they liked to come back in sudden anxiety attacks or unreasonable fear of loud things like the fireworks on the Fourth of July. They liked to come back in dreams, too – nightmares, actually.

You always knew how to comfort him, how to calm him down, to make him feel safe again. But now he felt awkward and helpless when it was his time to do the same for you. He didn’t know how to react properly. Should he congratulate you? Or tell you to forget about it? Both options seemed kind of wrong.

“I see,” he only cleared his throat awkwardly before taking the last sip of coffee and standing up to approach you. He kissed your cheek again and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. “I gotta go now… Do you want to go out somewhere nice in the evening?” He furrowed his brow. “Like a restaurant? You wouldn’t have to cook today.”

“I…” You hesitated. “I don’t know. It would feel like celebrating and even though I have reasons to… I don’t want to think of him at all. I want this day to be normal,” you looked at him and he nodded before pecking your lips and wishing you a good day as he left for work.

However, he knew that it was easier said than done. You would still think of your ex-husband all day long. It was inevitable and only natural. Buck felt bad for you and on his way back from work he stopped by the store and contemplated on getting you flowers. Once again he had a dilemma because it would be a nice gesture that would make you smile but on the other hand it would feel like a symbol of congratulations and a celebration. You wanted this day to be usual but you were unusually sad and quiet so he wanted to bring a smile to your face…

Walking back to the store’s entrance door, frustrated, he walked past the alley with the toys and then he stopped at the sight of an adorable teddy bear as he suddenly got an idea. He bought it and took it home, a little nervous of how you would react.

In the meantime, you were growing impatient because he was late and the dinner was getting cold. Staring out of the window, you finally spotted your husband’s car and you went to the hall to greet him.

“You’re late!” You pointed out and Buck smiled at you.

“I’m sorry. I stopped by the store,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek and handed you a teddy bear.

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows at the soft toy in your hands. “It’s adorable but… Why?”

“I was thinking… I mean, it reminded me of you because it’s adorable, let’s start with that,” Buck chuckled. “But also, I thought… I want you to have it so he’s watching over you when I’m out at work or something, you know. And when you’re sad, you can look at him and smile, yeah?” He scratched himself behind his neck awkwardly.

Your heart swelled in your chest at his words as the corners of your eyes pricked with tears. Despite your words from the morning that you didn’t want to think of your abusive ex-husband, he had been occupying your thoughts all day long. And you wished you had asked Buck to call his work and tell them he was sick, just to stay with you. But you would feel guilty if you did that. So, you spent most of the day dwelling on the past and trying to fight back the bad memories. And now, your husband’s sweet gesture meant the world to you.

You wiped your wet cheeks and threw your arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Thank you…” You whispered. “Thank you so much, I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. The most in the whole world,” Buck rubbed your back and kissed your temple.

“Go wash your hands and eat dinner now because it’s getting cold,” you took a step back and caressed his hair to fix the reckless hair strand.

You went to the kitchen, too and you sat the teddy bear on the window sill by the kitchen sink. He would watch over you every day as you cooked, baked or washed the dishes. You couldn’t stop smiling widely at it and Buck’s heart was growing in his chest out of happiness at the sight.

Sometimes he fantasised about finding your ex-husband – wherever he was now – and teaching him a lesson or two. Not even about killing him, no; dying would be too easy for that bastard. But he knew it was not worth it. He knew you wanted to let go of the past and your ex-husband was not worth going to jail for either. But seeing you, Buck couldn’t believe that someone had wanted to hurt something so lovely and pure. He just couldn’t comprehend how anyone could want to cause pain to his wife.

When he was done with his dinner, he washed the dishes in silence, not even letting you know that he had already finished because you’d insist on cleaning since he was “tired after work”. He didn’t want to interrupt you reading a magazine in the living room, so he washed the dishes himself and only then he joined you on the sofa.

“You’re done now, baby?” You looked up at him and put the magazine away to stand up.

“Stay,” Buck put his hand on your thigh. “I’ve already washed the dishes.”

“Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have! You’re so tired after work,” you pointed out with a pout.

“I’m completely fine,” he chuckled. “Come here,” he invited you to sit on his lap, so you happily did as you crossed your hands behind his neck and he pulled you closer. “Are you happy, darling?” He asked, more seriously now.

The question left you speechless for a moment but you knew where he was coming from. The bittersweet anniversary of your divorce had been occupying his mind as well for the whole day – not only yours.

“I am,” you nodded your head and bit on your lower lip. “The happiest,” you assured him. “Being your wife makes me feel happy, safe, proud and fulfilled. And I would tell you if something was wrong. Like we have promised each other to be honest and open,” you caressed his hair and leaned in to rub your nose with his. “And one day I’m going to have more wedding anniversaries with you than I have ever had with him and I’m going to forget his face and his voice completely and I can’t wait for that day. But perhaps I had to survive him to be able to meet you,” you shrugged your arms. “And just because of that, I can’t regret anything from my past because everything has been leading me to you.”

Buck only nodded at that before joining your lips together in a sweet kiss. He knew what you were talking about because he would go to ten more wars and survive ten more captive camps if it meant that he would end up as your husband.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[vegan-peppermint]

A snippet of life

In which the reader is a med student/ doctor who talked herself out of her death by conving the proxies they need her skills. Now this is her life.

Genre: just plot?

Word count: 1.6k

CW: blood, violence, swearing

Characters: Masky, Toby, Hoodie

Part 2

Adaptability is the only requirement for survival. The sooner you learn to sail with the tide, the easier it will be to navigate the waters. Their waters.

When you needed to work in order to finance your degree, you adapted. When the people you depended on became abusive, you adapted. It didn't matter what life had thrown at you, trying to derail you from your goal,  you caught it and tossed it right in life's eyes.

Seven months ago when three dickheads broke into your shared apartment and gutted your four roommates, you figured out the best- if not only- way to survive. You adapted, it is what you do.

You excepted to face anxieties and nightmares prompted by survival guilt, however you did not afford to be that vulnerable, not in the presence of those creeps.

"Come on, everyone! Let's keep it moving, we want to get there today, yes?"  Tim commanded promting you to roll your eyes. The rain was drumming steadily on the treetops, its rhythm deep and persistent. With every hurried step you took the mud got closer to grabbing hold of your boots.

"We got a problem, doc?" The same hoarse voice called to you, Tim halted letting the other two overtake him.

You lowered your head, passing him just the same. 

He seemed the worst of the trio, a patronizing control-freak, but in the time you've spent with them you have learned a few things:

1. Tim was undeniably the compasionate leader. He’d yell and push against anyone who dared to think something else than what he was preaching- true. But after every mission, he’d make his way to your room and ask about everyone’s injuries and morale. He pretended to be aloof, scrolling through his phone and lighting a cigarette, yet his attention was razor-sharp, never missing a single word.

"How much l-l-longer do we have to g-go?" Toby groaned, his question ignored. "Hey, assholes! I'm t-tired!"

2. Whenever Tim’s back was turned—whether for two seconds while walking or hours spent in the driver's seat—Toby would raise his middle finger high and proud. His age played a part, of course; the surge of newfound testosterone often drownd any sense of logic. Still, after being forced to sleep outside countless times because of his 'rebellious' tendencies, one might think he’d start to learn. Even dogs  stop barking eventually when they’re not fed.

"Stop whining," Tim responded, speeding up his pace to get to the front of the group once again. "If I knew you'd be acting like such a bitch I'd have left you in the car."

Overtaking you and Brian was easy, but Toby decided to get on his nerves today. He lengthened his strides and quickened his pace. Tim tried closing the gap multiple times, but just as he was right on Toby's heels, Toby would lunge forward, keeping the distance between them.

Tim muttered plenty of curses under his breath before he shoulder-barged Toby, shoving him out of the way. Toby stumbled sideways, nearly losing his balance on the slippery ground, but he caught himself just in time. In the next breath, Brian surged forward from behind, tripping Toby with ease. This time, the boy went down hard, face first, his body hitting the mud with a loud splat.

"That better not be you, Tics!" Tim laughed several steps ahead along side Brian.

3. Brian didn't talk much, not directly to you or Toby at least, but his remarks and complaints always made their ways to your ears through Tim. His face was more often than not hidden behind that creepy hood, leaving any trace of emotion completly unreadable. He spoke to you a total of five words since you've met: stay out of the way. Indeed, a rock was easier to read than he is, but your life experience came in handy: it's the quiet ones you always have to watch.

After thoroughly scouting the area, Brian entered first, moving with the stealth of a shadow. Tim and Toby advanced slowly before bursting through the front door. The unwritten rule was that you were the last to enter and left last, so you followed suit.

The moment you stepped inside, you realized that “overpowered” didn't quite capture the severity of the girls' state. Tim was busy tying up the blonde while Brian dragged the redhead in from another room. Their faces grimaced, twisted with anguish, deep lines etched into their expressions—enough to amplify the shock of the scene. Their body was lean and young but their soggy faces resembled cartoon witches. Toby noticed your curious gaze immediately.

“They’re c-c-c-FUCK-cultists, you know?” he said, strolling around the two girls with exaggerated steps. “That’s why they l-look like t-that! It’s their true face!” He crouched down in front of the blonde, who was undeniably the more threatening of the two, pinching her loose cheeks with mock disdain. “Uuugly,” he sneered. With the same sharp and agile movement a snake takes to bite its pray, the girl bit his hand ready to pull it off. Toby's didn't react, not even noticing any difference, he continued to taunt them.

“Enough!” Tim barked, grabbing her by the nose and forcing her onto her back. Toby’s hand was now a crimson mess, chunks of flesh missing, revealing dull, white tissue beneath.

“Goddamn, idiot…” Tim scoffed, gesturing for Brian to drag the couple to the basement. He wanted a more peaceful environment to work in, and Toby was actively ruinning it.

As the metal door screeched shut, silence enveloped the room. A heavy door and a dozen steps stood between the living room and whatever lay below making it easy to convince yourself that nothing sinister was happening six feet beneath you as you settled onto the couch beside Toby.

“"You really are an idiot," you began.

"You don't get to to call me that."

"When other half your hand is in a cultists stomach I think I get to call you whatever I want," you spoke plainly.

After realizing that the white thing poking from his wound wasn’t a bone, you settled on disinfecting and bandaging him. He was surprisingly easy to tend to, his lack of pain receptors making the process almost blissful.

You tightened the final knot on his bandage with a firm pull. He gave a small nod of gratitude, then stood up and made his way to the couch, settling down. You swiftly gathered the medical supplies you'd used, cleaned them, and returned everything to your bag before finally taking a seat beside him.

Now all you could do was wait. And wait. And—

“How long is this going to take?!”

“Toby, please, shut up.”

So you waited.

The afternoon slipped into evening, the sky transitioning from gold to deep blue. Toby snored through the shared couch, an irritating hum cutting through the quiet. As night deepened, you accepted the reality of leaving the following day, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep, his presence—Toby’s, of all people—offering a measure of comfort.

You jolted awake, the silence of the night shattered by the sound of rushing footsteps, followed by the unmistakable clang of metal. You and Toby shot upright just in time to see the blonde barreling toward the door, her eyes glowing red with fury beneath thick, dark brows. A low, guttural growl rumbled in her throat as she charged forward, Toby’s blood still smeared across her snarling mouth.

You leaped over the couch, using it as a barrier between you and the creature. Toby grabbed his axe and charged at her without hesitation. To your surprise and his horror, she blocked his attack with her forearm, blood bursting violently gushing out in all directions. Toby squeezed his eyes shut, turning away. “EW-EW—Fuck!” His heart raced as he fought to regain his composure. Seizing the moment, the cultist pounced on him, your mind racing between the chaotic struggle before you and the opened basement door.

“AGH—she's a—biter!” Toby groaned, struggling to free his axe. The woman’s face was buried in the crook of his neck, clearly intent on tearing him apart. Yet, Toby held his ground, unfazed by her onslaught.

Your hands trembled as panic consumed you. Pain wasn’t the issue; it was his impending blood loss that truly terrified you. With each agonizing second, no one emerged from the stairs, and the weight of what you might have to do pressed down on you.

You could run for it, you thought, escape into the woods and leave the killers to their fate. But facing that thing in the dark was a nightmare, just as terrifying as confronting her now. What should you do? What should you do?

Fuck’s sake.

“Toby! Toby, turn around!” you shouted, sprinting around the couch, your heart racing as you prayed to every god you could think of that this would work. With steady hands, you reached between Toby’s shoulder and the cultist’s forehead, attempting to mimic Tim’s movements from earlier. You clamped your fingers around her nose and yanked, hoping it would have the same effect.

The woman jerked violently, giving Toby just the opening he needed to shove her against the opposite wall.

[mae-lou-ron]

A Little Kindness, pt. 1

Summary: It’s been a few months since Crosshair and his family returned from Tantiss for the last time. Settling into civilian life hasn’t been easy, but one Pabu resident shows Crosshair some kindness that makes him want to try.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader

Warnings: social anxiety/awkwardness (aka awkward budding friendship between two traumatized puppies), internal berating, grumpy soft crosshair dealing with ptsd-related stuff but nothing specific, non-descript mentions of injuries treated, fanon typical swearing.

Word Count: 2,400

A/N: thank you to everyone who read A Friend Indeed. I really enjoyed writing the brotherly dynamic between Crosshair and Wrecker in that one. It was honestly an outlet for me to process some of my own stuff, and I appreciate all the encouragement and kind comments. I’m continuing Crosshair’s journey in learning how to heal and even maybe enjoy that Pabu life a little. I’m thinking I’ll make a little anthology series of these because I’ve got a lot of Crosshair fluff cooking up in this goblin lair of a brain. Part 2 to currently underway. A song I listened to quite a bit while writing this was State of the Art by Incubus. Proofread by me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crosshair strode down the sandy path, his eyes periodically scanning the star-studded sky. He inhaled the night air, surprisingly crisp for the island now that the sun had set, giving way for the moon to rise. Its blue-tinted glow bathed the island, ushering in the evening sounds that helped quiet his overactive mind. He would often walk these paths at night, aiming for nowhere in particular, just letting his feet decide where he would go.

As he turned down the path that led to the compound of small homes shared with his family, he heard their voices spilling from open windows. They sounded upbeat and cheerful. The sing-song lilt of Omega's voice suggested someone else was there—a visitor. Crosshair inwardly cringed. Still new to civilian life, he wasn't overly fond of visitors—especially those who showed up unannounced, regardless of their self-proclaimed important reasons.

In situations like this, he couldn't help but notice how his siblings were adapting to life on Pabu much more easily than he was. People had a tendency to baffle him. But the others, Wrecker and Omega especially, seemed to really enjoy getting to know anyone and everyone. As Crosshair got closer, he recognized a voice in the mix of conversation, which nearly made him stop in his tracks.

He exhaled softly, a flush creeping up his neck. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears when he heard your laughter ring out. Why does it have to be her? The thought of walking past the compound and continuing down the hill to the beach was very tempting. He wasn't in the mood for other people right now, least of all you.

It definitely had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that he was always putting his foot in his mouth when you were around. You set him on edge like no one he'd met before, though not necessarily in a bad way. He quite liked you actually, but you'd probably never know it from his behavior.

Not to mention your last encounter on his walk a few nights ago. When you called to him from your porch, asking for his help with something out of your reach. He froze, thoughts swirling, and all he could manage to do was scowl despite his desire to assist. He hesitated, realizing it was a task you could likely manage yourself. But you asked, and the look in your eyes had his feet leaving the path and taking the small steps to your patio where you stood on a chair. Though you appeared steady, his hand instinctively hovered near the middle of your back. Maintaining his usual stern expression, he held the awning in place while you secured it.

You thanked him with a warm smile, and without thinking he offered you his arm as you stepped down. You accepted with another gentle smile, your hand resting lightly on his forearm, the warmth from your touch lingering even after you let go. You took a step backwards to admire your work. "That should do," you murmured before turning your attention back to him. "It might be a bit stormy tonight," you added, crossing you arms over your chest. You both glanced up at the clouds that had started filtering into the sky on the horizon. The bright moon made it easy to see them rolling across the water.

"Are you warm enough?" you asked, looking up at him and rubbing your arm as the wind picked up. "I've got some extra tunics or ponchos somewhere in here, if you'd like one… Oh, do you like tea? I just put some on…." You rambled, taking another step back towards your door, offering a welcoming smile. The breeze swirled again and carried the scent of your hair—or perhaps perfume—to Crosshair, and he felt drawn to accept your offer. Yet his apprehension rose, and his "no, thanks" came out quick and terse. He couldn't even recall if you said anything after he retreated, berating himself as he walked away. Before your house disappeared from view, he glanced back over his shoulder, only to find you'd already gone inside, leaving him with another twinge of regret.

But you were here now, and he couldn't really get to his part of their home without being at least noticed by Hunter. Kriff. He swore inwardly and steeled himself for the onslaught of attention that would be cast his way as soon as he crossed the threshold.

"Crosshair! You're back!" Omega rushed over as he appeared in the doorway. His sister beamed up at him, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining with excitement. "How was your walk?"

“It’s too close to bedtime to be getting all wound up, don’t you think?” he said to his sister and glanced at you, who was regarding him warily. Omega rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, pulling him fully into room.

“Nope! But look what we just got!” she smiled, pointing to the table in the near center. You were there standing next to Wrecker with an amused look on your face. Crosshair scowled, gesturing to the pile of neatly folded ponchos on the table before them, one for each of them. "What do we need these for?" He chided himself mentally the moment the words made it past his lips.

"Duh, because it gets cold at night here during some parts of the rotation," Wrecker said matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't something he had just learned a few minutes ago himself. He nudged you gently with his elbow, which made you blush slightly. The exchange made Crosshair's eye twitch. What was wrong with him? He wasn't exactly proud of how your previous encounters had gone, and this one wasn't looking like it would be all that great either, but seeing you react to Wrecker like that… he liked that even less.

"It really does… I… didn't have a whole lot when I came here, but Lyanna brought me a couple of these not too long after. Total lifesaver," you beamed at Omega who was excitedly unfolding one to throw over her head. It had hues of blue and brown fibers threaded together. "They make them right here on the island. It might be a little big on you now but you'll grow into it," you grinned at the young girl as you adjusted the seams at her shoulders, letting the garment fall into place.

"I really like it," Omega smiled, giving a little twirl that made the fabric fan out around her. "Thank you," she added warmly before wrapping one of her arms around you in a half hug.

"Anytime, kiddo," you smiled down at Omega, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before she turned to Wrecker to show him. When you looked up, Crosshair was regarding you with that severe look on his face, like it was actually causing him physical pain to be in your presence. You decided to take your leave, sensing the mood had shifted and not wanting to overstay your welcome.

"Well, I'll leave you all to it, then. I've got an early start tomorrow anyway," you said, your voice light and kind. Their words of thanks met your ears as you retreated towards the door, causing your lips to quirk up in a smile as you walked by Crosshair. However, he swore the spark he saw in your eyes when he first entered the room had dimmed a little. Good job, di'kut.

Crosshair opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but no words came, instead he just gave you a tense nod of his head before looking at the floor.

"Goodnight, everyone," you said softly before closing the door behind you with a gentle click.

“Way to kill the fun, Crosshair,” Wrecker teased after a long moment, roughing his brother’s shoulder as he walked past him into the kitchen, shooting a wink at Omega.

A heavy silence settled over the room. Without looking up, Crosshair knew Omega and Hunter were staring at him, their arms undoubtedly crossed and their faces wearing that annoyingly stern expression. Great. It meant they were about to gang up on him.

"Crosshair..." Omega said with a gentle reproach only she could get away with. He still hated it, though. "The people here are kind. She's just trying to help us feel at home. She understands what it's like, remember?”

Crosshair set his jaw, struggling to untangle the swirl of self-doubt and self-deprecation in his mind. "I know that," he said softly, fully aware that you, too, had sought refuge on Pabu to escape the Empire not all that long ago.

"I also think she likes you,” Omega whispered conspiratorially. “Like actually likes you…"

"I can't imagine why…" Hunter muttered, leaning into the doorframe. Crosshair narrowed his eyes at him in return, taking a wooden pick from his pocket and placing it delicately between his teeth. “You act like she’s a thermal detonator or something,” Hunter rumbled, smirking.

Omega rolled her eyes and glared at Hunter before turning back to Crosshair, whose expression only continued to sour the longer he was being put on the spot. "Don't listen to him," Omega insisted, but Hunter's words gnawed at the part of Crosshair's mind that had already questioned the same thing. Yet, Omega saw through his trademark scowl, regarding him with affection and gentle reproach.

Crosshair sighed, eyes softening as they returned to Omega. He still couldn't pinpoint the exact moment this kid had wrapped him around her finger, but glancing at Hunter's face, he knew his brother shared the same thought. Crosshair rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. Hunter's eyes simply darted between the two of them—no words were necessary.

After a long pause, Crosshair huffed, "Fine—I'll… go talk to her." He winced at the thought. "What do I even say?" he said to the room, his jaw tight, shoulders slumping slightly at the discomforting thought.

"Well—I think you might like her too, Crosshair…" Omega offered gently, "…so maybe start with something simple like 'thank you for the new clothes' or 'I'm sorry for being such a cold wet blanke—'" Hunter coughed to interrupt her, and his chuckling.

"Going," Crosshair held his arms up in surrender, slinking towards the door you had just exited a few moments ago.

"Cross," Hunter said as he followed him to the door, handing him a dark green one from the pile. Silent communication passed between the brothers. Crosshair eventually nodded and slipped the soft material over his head, adjusting it to drape evenly over his shoulders.

It was pretty comfortable, he had to admit.

The scents Crosshair had grown to associate with you still lingered on the fabric—warm and spicy but soft with a hint of something like chamomile. He took a deep breath, allowing it to hang on the end of his senses, pulling up fleeting images of you in his mind that gave him a strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

You were one of the first people here to show him genuine kindness. A series of gestures from you that had actually quite startled him at the time.

He could still recall every detail of that first encounter months ago. The landing pad on Pabu bustled with medically inclined residents and clone troopers as they returned from Tantiss. Your welcoming smile and guarded eyes greeted him as you offered your arm to help him onto an awaiting cot; he didn't take it, but you held it there nonetheless. Panic suddenly rose in his throat at losing sight of his siblings, but it subsided when he spotted Omega and Emerie tending to Wrecker nearby—who was indeed badly injured. Only after Echo lowered Hunter into the adjacent cot did Crosshair warily allow you to examine his injuries. You seemed to understand his hesitance, asked for his name, told him yours, carefully explaining each step and always seeking his permission before proceeding—a gesture that was both deeply appreciated and deeply unfamiliar to him.

Since then, he's been struggling to find a way to show his gratitude for that moment, and all of your unexpected kindness after. Every time he tried, the words caught in his throat—nothing he could think of seemed adequate enough to express it. Parsing through the complexity of his feelings often made it difficult for him to speak. He found himself caught between wanting to open up and his instinct to maintain distance. Crosshair knew he needed to find a way to bridge this gap, but he had no idea how. And the idea of being hit with any sort of rejection from you also gnawed at him.

"You look great," Omega grinned up at him, shaking him from his thoughts. Hunter gave him an encouraging clap on the shoulder before pushing Crosshair back into the crisp evening air.

The air was more comfortable now with the added layer. The gentle breeze that wove its way through the streets and staircases gently tugged on the fabric as he walked. Looking at it more closely, it was different shades of green, and like Omega's, it was woven into a pattern that blurred one color into the next. He trudged the path to your neighborhood—lost in thought, wracking his brain for what he was going to say.

But when he arrived, the house was dark—it seemed you weren’t home.

Crosshair hesitated, contemplating his options. He brought his hand to the door but decided against knocking. He considered leaving a note but dismissed the idea quickly, as he had nothing to write with. He had no idea what he'd put down anyway. With a frustrated sigh, he turned and began walking aimlessly down the winding path.

Reluctant to return home immediately, Crosshair continued to where the houses grew sparse, eventually discovering sprawling patches of wildflowers. He vaulted over a crumbling stone wall and gathered a handful of blooms in various types and colors. As he walked back, he bundled the vibrant flowers as best he could, using his teeth and a loose thread from the poncho's hem. Upon returning to your door, he gently placed the makeshift bouquet on the chair you'd climbed onto the other night.

As he took a few steps back, he could only hope this small gesture might convey his intent better than any fumbling words he could muster right now. With a quiet hum, he finally turned and walked back towards home. Maybe he'd figure out what to say by the time he saw you again.

[illusivedelights]

Call of Neighbors (König & Horangi Neighbors!AU)

Part 1

.....ok this one's really more for me. I just think they're both neat and I like 'em. (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)(⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

They're roommates in this AU! But not in that way y'all. This house is a nightmare LOL.

König

He is either somehow the most unassuming giant of a man or the most unintentionally really awkwardly off-putting guy you're going to meet.

Honestly it's not intentional, he just kind of doesn't know how to act properly/is slightly tone deaf.

He's quiet for odd pauses because he's either trying to practice what he says in his head or he's overthinking it a little.

He honestly hides his social anxiety well if you get him to talk. He'll sound pretty confident when he speaks/can come off a little arrogant (but that's really his way of masking his anxiety. 'If I sound confident enough, they can't tell' mentality.).

It's a hard adjustment and can piss some off, but when you look underneath it, it has sound reasoning and sincerity.

Lot of folks find him either a bit tough to approach or deal because they don't want to go beyond the superficial and he's kind of got a not so good rep, but he's used to it.

Honestly the really old folks are probably the ones who understand him the best/look past all the nonsense. He finds comfort in it and looks after them in his own way.

People always assume the worst in what he's doing, but then they see he's actually just doing normal stuff. It's a bit of a running gag. ("OMG! He's totally getting ready to bury a body!!" Actually he's trying to rake this elderly neighbor's yard because she's in a lot of pain, he just forgot to let her know he was doing it, and also he's a dingus that just makes it look like that).

You're gonna know cause you're gonna see this oaf awkwardly hang around and look like he's trying to do something. (He is trying to approach you, he really just doesn't know how.) He wants to show off to you about all the cool things he knows and can do and will talk to you for what seems like ages. (But it can come off abrasive and strongly opinionated)

It's his way of saying he wants to spend time with you and likes you. (And dear God if you can make it past it, still like him and interact again, he's sold).

Hobbies

Housekeeping (Ok hear me out, he's a pretty clumsily dressed guy and joined the military at stupid young teen age; but I think people would complain and once he moved out, he was like oh.)

Cooking (He's not really happy with the quality of food/lack of food he wants, so he has a "Well I'll make it myself then"/"They can't make it like home")

Antique/ Item Hunting (He likes trying to find things that remind him of home or his childhood or fits a specific niche he enjoys).

Community Service (mostly helping the neighborhood. He likes keeping it nice and safe.......in more ways than one)

Competitive Games (He's kinda garbo though, but trying to get better. But he can't help but get competitive regardless. Heskindaasoreloserthough.)

General Perception

That One Creepy Big Guy Who Doesn't Talk a Whole Lot.

Big Guy

Terminator

Lovely Young Man/Strapping Lad (by the elderly folks he helps)

Horangi

Neighborhood's local really aggressive Korean man. He's not even angry most times, he just talks like that.

He just doesn't like wasting time, and in his mind time is precious for everyone so he just doesn't mince words and just wants to get to the point. ("Tell me what I need to do to fix it and I'll do it.")

This behavior can be misinterpreted, so people assume he's just being insufferable.

I think he's actually really popular with cranky old men because he can keep up with them, throw it back easily and they don't take any offense to it. Do not approach if they're all shooting the shit, the conversation is indeed insufferable. (Good men but Jesus, they can complain).

Didn't want to bother with the pain of fronting the cost of living fully by himself , so he approached König about it because honestly König isn't too much of a hassle to him.

Left to his own devices, he's doing side gigs a lot, so he's in and out a lot of times.

He is a good character foil to König being the way he is and they bring out very honest facets of one another by accident. If you wanna speed run seeing their personality, just hang out with the two of them.

People jokingly wonder if he's a K-Pop idol because he often wears his sunglasses and a face mask. (It actually kind of annoys him because he's trying to keep a low profile and it's also been said mockingly to him too many times.)

Despite not being home a lot, he's actually really tidy and a neat freak. He will get slightly exasperated by uncleanliness or if certain things aren't the way he wants it.

You'll know with him because you make him pause. He's pretty much snappy with everything, so if you actually make him go quiet and think, you got him hooked. This man's tone and actions will be a bit more.....deliberate in between his usual self.

He is actually surprisingly clingy but in the way of "I want to be around you a lot during my few free moments, even if it's not doing anything productive" You make him actually want to waste time.

Hobbies

Cars (I feel like he has a light fascination with cars and mechanics of it, probably a 'I don't have this so it's fascinating' note. He wouldn't want to own one, but he has appreciation for sports cars)

Boxing/Sparring (A way to get out some aggression at times and solitary so he doesn't have to worry about most things. Probably a meditative act)

Cleaning (Probably a habit of covering his tracks, and is just oddly really good at it)

Side Gigs (they're mostly legal, trying to stay on the up and up, old money making day habits die hard, he's the guy who knows a guy from these things)

General Perception

That One Angry Korean Prick

Loud Guy

Angry Idol

Mr. Sensitive (sarcasm)

Bonus: The Roommates' Dynamic

Obviously this one's a bit special because they share space. So, extra HC time!

At a surface level, you'll think they probably actually hate each other because of how aggressive they talk and seem to butt heads.

But in reality, it's just two really nitpicky and straightforward people bantering. Plus working in the line of field they do, they're just both solution oriented and way too comfortable using coarse language with each other. ("Why the HELL is your shit laying around on the floor?" "I literally just put it down, I'm cleaning the tabletops?" "YOU DON'T THROW IT ON THE GROUND." "IT WASN'T THROWN." etc.)

Despite how they are, nothing's ever done in genuine mean spirit. They're just honestly two guys who are bad at talking in different ways but they mean well ......in their own way.

König is definitely more of a homebody and the common areas are more of his style of decorating. They actually have somewhat similar tastes so it works out, but if you look closely you'll see bits of Horangi's flare. ("I'm hardly around. Decorate how you want.")

They're particular about cleanliness in their own different ways, so they clash.

Both are living in a place with no family/have no family, so they're each other's emergency contacts.

It's definitely more of a roommate/coworker you live with situation. They don't actually have many hobbies they share.

They kind of keep each other in check honestly.

OK I FEEL THAT'S ENOUGH FOR THIS POST. IF ANYONE ELSE WANNA KNOW MORE JUST IDK. ASK. OR ILL POST ANOTHER LATER.

[volturissideslut]

Hi darling angel!

So I'm in the mood for some angst!

Could you write about poly! Volturi kings x reader who after an argument with them (why idk) is very quiet, because they told reader that their voice is annoying and complaining how annoying their voice is.

What would they do?

I was thinking a lil sexy time? (about how much they love their voice lol)

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (𝕻𝖔𝖑𝖞)

I love this idea so much, you have no idea. It's not really an argument, just a snide comment confirming a previous insecurity.

All throughout your childhood, you had been told to "be quiet" or "Shut up. Your voice is annoying" and it had taken a lot of time and a lot of self growth to get to the point you were talkative again

All to be shreded to pieces by a singular comment

It was Caius who said it, snappy after a particularly difficult day

All of them were exhausted, which is difficult for a vampire to get to, and you wouldn't stop going on and on about your day. The plot twist in the book you were reading, the new café you went tried out, the cat you saw on the street and-

"For heavens sake, do you ever stop talking?"

Oh

Instant shut down, all those years of work in being comfortable with your own voice beginning to crack,only to be shattered further

"Your voice is particularly grating today and it would serve you well to stop"

Marcus spared you a glance, but nodded in agreement while Aro just sighed and sat still with his head in his hand

They wanted you to be quiet, and so you were. With a simple nod, you turned around to walk out and they seemed appreciative at the time

Hours passed and they had begun to miss you. Well, Marcus had. Aro also wanted that familiar comfort that you bring. Caius still needed to cool off, still slumped in his chair, but knew that he needed you soon too.

And so, one by one, in the space of around an hour, they came looking for you

"Tesoro, there you are. What are you doing?" Marcus asked with a small smile, wanting to join you

And you had wanted to respond,you really did. But your voice felt stuck in your throat.

Unable to speak, you looked at him and gave a weak smile, turning back to what you were doing

And his face falls

"Tesoro?"

No response

"would you like space?"

A nod. And he leaves.

Aro would be next to see you, wanting that love and warmth you bring. Still unaware of your state, he'd ask you to sing for him.

Just a sweet little lullaby like you did so often. So warm, so loving, so comforting

And yet you didn't even open your mouth

Tears came to your eyes, insecurity and anxiety rising, and yet still unable to communicate anything vocally.

"Amore mio, are you alright?" he would ask, stroking your hair so nicely. So lovingly, almost as if he hadn't completely disregarded you, agreeing with your mates and confirming your biggest insecurity

And yet you couldn't even tell him, voice still stuck

You were cursed by your own brain

All you could do is look at him, teary eyed. Unconsciously, you had touched your throat, mout opening and closing yet no words coming out

"Is it your throat? Does it hurt?"

A nod and a shake

His voice is so achingly soft, oozing with care and worry. A very stark contrast indeed.

He'd call the nearest guard to fetch the other kings for him, and they come rushing

I mean, of course they would. You're everything to them

Caius would kiss the back oglf your hand softly, being patient for what seems like the first time in his lifs. Marcus would have his face buried in your neck, breathing you in and keeping you as close as possible. Aro says where he was before, hand on your cheek as you struggle to for words.

Life's a funny thing, isn't it? While it seems you were unable to get a singular word out in front of them earlier, now it seems that you just can't stop. It all comes out in a jumbles mess of nonsense for them to piece together yet they still stay, listening to you intently.

"oh, my love" Aro would say, never looking away as they listened to you

And when i say they listened, I mean they really really listened

Profuse apologies from Caius because he had never meant to hurt you, he was just exhausted and lashing out and unfortunately you were the one in his path

Marcus is silent, just holding your hand and holding you close. It's later when your alone together that he apologises. He wanted it to feel more meaningful, more personal and felt this was the way to do it

They make a conscious effort to not dismiss you now, even though they didn't really do it much before either

And when you sing for Aro as he so often ask you to, you get twice as much praise as usual

[gloriousdreamerland]

Wait for me?

Pairing: George Weasley x Ravenclawn! Fem! Reader

Warning: Bullying (not by George ofc); Insecurities; Bad english and bad writing (really bad);

Words: 1.6K

Autor notes: It's finally happening, it's finally the end!! <3 I loved making this story so much and I love my messy girl so much. If you have any questions or suggestions for new fics, my inbox is open. I don't know if I'll do them all, but I'll definitely read them all.

Synopsis: Angelina and Fred are tying the knot and suddenly Y/N has to face unresolved feelings for George, which is even worse considering she never told him they are soulmates. 9 days of partying are more like 9 days of torture, hopefully she will survive, only if he stops giving her a heart attack every five minutes.

I will - Epilogue

“I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love.” -The vow

   “Careful with your head!” 

   “Dont worry!-” Y/N didn't even have time to respond because she hit her head. “Ouch”

   “You really should start listening to me! If you listened to me back in Hogwarts, you two would be married maybe even before me and Fred” Angie laughed as she helped her best friend get up.

   “I know…but you’ll have all the time to brag about it after the wedding, now help me!”

   Finally, the day the couple was waiting for finally came: The wedding. Young Y/N wouldn’t believe it. 

   After Angelina and Fred’s wedding they focused on making up for lost time -with after the wedding i mean almost after they said “i do”- and Y/N moved back in to the wizard world to live with George temporally in the second floor of his shop as Fred would move out to have his own home with Angie.

   Y/N, surprising absolutely no one, was kinda anxious to live with him, some couples do realize they don’t belong together after fighting because one of them didn’t wash the dishes or left wet towels on bed, but after some days, she realised that if you’re with the right person, she would do her best to make their home your home to, and you, naturally, would do the same, and George definitely is the right person.

   So, it wasn’t really a surprise when he proposed a year ago in their home. They were having a quiet and romantic night, he made dinner and for dessert he gave her a pack of jelly beans. Most would think this was kind of off putting, but, they were her favourites and were an important part of their history. So, when she put the first jellybean in her mouth it turned into an engagement ring. He almost killed his wife before even marrying her not gonna lie, but she found it endearing.

   His mother pulled his ear because of that, but those are other details

   Which leads us to today: The big day. Everything was going perfectly…almost. The wedding is being held at her childhood home, a small wedding just like she wanted, with only their close friend and family present, the buffet and decorations also were just like their taste and the wedding dress…oh the wedding dress, absolutely breathtaking. The day was going perfectly fine, only if Y/N could find her damn engagement ring.

   “Are you really sure it’s not in your room? Do you wanna look there again?”

   “I don’t think so, I think it is somewhere around the house because I passed by there doing some housework…but i did go to the garden too, do you think is there?!”

   “I think we need to divide and conquer. You look inside and I'll take a look outside, okay? That way you don't run the risk of getting dirt on yourself”

   “Okay!”

   “So I'll take a look and if I don't find anything there I'll tell you, good luck!” Angie walked fast out of the room, so as not to raise suspicions and not to waste time. And as soon as she walked out, Y/N once again fell into anxiety. Everything was indeed not fine.

   The L/N’s household wasn’t that big, so it shouldn’t be that hard finding it, but there’s a problem: Y/N cannot under any circumstances come face to face with George, and she has a habit of doing that. After so long together she still had put a bell on him, and he mastered the ability in surprising her.

   She has two hours until the ceremony starts and she still has to put her wedding dress on, so finding the ring without being seen by George? Easy peasy... it needs to be easy peasy.

   Without wasting any more time Y/N retraced her steps from earlier today, passed through the kitchen, where she talked to the steak people, passed by her younger brother's room, she tried to convince him to take the rings and it worked, her parents' room, she had an emotional conversation with them in which tears rolled, and the living room, every bride deserves to faint for five minutes on the couch after sorting out so many things, she used this bonus too soon.

   She checked almost all the rooms in her list, all that was left was for her to check was her parent’s room and the living room, with almost only with an hour and a half left for her search, she ran to the nearest room, her parents' room, without worrying too much about looking like a crazy person to the guests, after all she has bigger problems than that. The only thing that made her stop was a red blur passing through the hallway, which stopped as soon as she hid behind the nearest wall.

   “Sweetie, are you okay?” Molly Weasley asked and she finally could breathe again.

   Still dizzy from the fright, she came out of the wall where she was hiding, still catching her breath.

   “Hi! I’m fine. I saw the red hair and for a minute thought it was Geoge!” The older woman laughed, making her smile.

   “It's bad luck for a  spouse to see the other before the wedding, do you want me to keep an eye on him until then, dear? If he's close to you, I'll let you know.”

   “Don’t worry about it, let him be. I’ll soon be back to my room to finish getting dressed up, i just need to find something first”

   “What happened”

   “I just need to lost something, don’t worry about it”

   The woman looked at her with a suspicious expression.

   “If you say so, but if you need anything, especially if you want me to keep an eye on George, tell me. We’re family now”

   It was strange when they got together, It was as if everything and nothing had changed at the same time. His family has always been nice to her, but after they got together it was like they’d go out of their way to be nice to her. It’s a good feeling.

   “Thanks, I'm grateful for being so welcomed in the family. When you marry someone, not only you got to be in your special someone life, but got a whole new family in the package, i’m glad his family is this nice”

   “You’re really sweet, Y/N. We’re glad to have you in the family” Molly gave her a hug “Now, I won't hold you back any longer, I'll see you later”

   Now back to the hunt. There’s only one more place this ring can be or else she’ll have to do the ceremony without it.

   So she ran.

   Without wasting time she reached the living room, where she finally found it! Well, she saw it on the ground a few meters ahead shining on the ground, but before she could reach for it she met with a redhead blur kneeling on the ground and catching it before her, but her last encounter with Molly eased her nerves. 

   Then she actually stopped to realize who it was. Oh no.

   George was in his tux -Y/N tried to not pay attention to it, bad luck and all, but she couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was in it-, now standing and looking at the ring. George noticed her standing there beside him, but before she could really see her, she hid behind the wall, sticking her back to it. George couldn’t help but laugh.

   “Do you wanna tell me about it?” he said in a good-humored tone

   “...No, Babe?” she heard his footsteps approaching and protested “George, you can’t see me before the wedding!”

   “Very unfair of you since I'm sure you saw me, but I'll let you win this one, but don't get used to it”

   “I fear you have a soft spot for me Georgie, i have the theory that you had for a while”

   “Phew I'm glad you noticed, it would have been weird if we had gotten married without you knowing about it.” Y/N laughed out loud “Jokes aside, I just want to be close to my fiance”

   “Fiance…I like the sound of that, but i like wife more””

   “Right? Husband has a ring to it. Especially Y/N’s husband”

   “Ugh you’re such a sap…i love you”

   “I love you too. Now, dear wife-to-be,-” He reached out his hand with the engagement ring through the door without looking at her. “I think you lost this”

   “Thanks, Babe” The ring is finally back in her possession.

   “...Do you wanna run away from this wedding?” Y/N didn’t need to see his face to know he has a grim on his face

   “Hm…We didn’t get the chance at Angie and Fred’s wedding, maybe we should run away now. But only after the vow.”

   “Your request is my command, my love. I'm already fine if I can have your kisses”

   “You say it like you haven't stressed out half the staff over the menu.” She joked making him laugh

   “Only the best for one of the best days of our lives, right? Although every day is the best with you”

   “Own… I really need to upper my flirt game”

   “I can flirt for both of us, Love. You love me so literally that I never questioned it, you swooned me over that way”

   “I was already yours, but i’m really glad i’ll be called your wife, George”

   “No wedding day jitters?”

   “Been ready even before we started dating” Y/N took a look at a nearby cock. She really needs to put her dress on. “I need to go now, i need to finish getting ready”

   “See you at the altar?”

   “I’ll be the one in white.” She smiled “Wait for me there?”

   “I will”