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clairedaring · 28 days ago

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Plot Spoilers of GMMTV 2024 - Part 2 Series

So GMMTV accidentally???? intentionally??? spoiled the detailed plots to most of their 2024 part 2 lineup series through their public pamphlet at the Busan International Film Festival. So I'm just making this post to compile them.

WARNING: MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

okay enough warning. now you're on your own.

The Heart Killers

A cool tattooist who works as a spy for the police is assigned to investigate brutal gunman brothers, so he tries to flirt with the younger one to dig up their information. When his attempt is interfered with by the older brother, the tattooist has to find someone to get rid of him, someone to hit on the scary-looking gunman. He then enlists the help of his handsome friend to join in his mission to win the gunman brothers' hearts and start a new life with a clean slate.

This is a story about Kant (First Kanaphan), a handsome and talented tattooist who is part-time a police spy and part-time charming playboy. One day, he meets an attractive man at a bowling alley and has the best one-night stand of his life, only to wake up and find that the guy has disappeared without leaving him his number. All Kant can think about is that passionate night. Later, he gets assigned a new mission to Investigate two killers wanted by the police. Whether it's good or bad luck, one of them turns out to be his hot one-night stand. Kant doesn't want to do it, but the captain makes him an offer he can't say no- to clean up his criminal record of past car theft.

Kant does some research and learns that the two assassins live undercover as hamburger shop owners. He goes to have a meal there and sees Bison (Khaotung Thanawat), the man he has slept with that night. A spark happens between them and Kant starts making a move on Bison to find out who is behind everything. Even though Bison feels something for Kant, they face a big obstacle in the name of Fadel (Joong Archen), Bison's big brother who worries about his safety. Because Fadel doesn't want Bison to bond with anyone and he doesn't trust Kant, he tries to stop the two from getting together. Bison wants to start a relationship with Kant, so he suggests finding Fadel a partner to distract him, but the problem is, who would dare hit on Fadel? Kant thinks of his gorgeous and charming best friend named Style (Dunk Natachai) who is a real pain in the neck and not afraid of anything. Style is a car mechanic who has once rear-ended Fadel's car and gotten into a fight with him. Kant promises Style his car that the latter has eyes on if he can win Fadel's heart. Style says yes to the deal and begins pursuing Fadel immediately with the knowledge of Fadel's daily routines that Kant receives from Bison and forwards to him. Style persistently chases after Fadel, doing everything he can to insert himself into his life. Fadel is annoyed but secretly likes that Style is not afraid of him like the others.

While his fake relationship is going well, Kant has to finish his mission of spying on the killers. He discovers that the mastermind is Madam Lily, mother of Fadel and Bison who has adopted the two from an orphanage and trained them to be killers. Later when the two brothers make mistakes in their mission and cause some information to leak out, Bison starts doubting Kant and finds out that he's a police spy. Bison tells Fadel what he learns and the big brother is furious because he has fallen in love with Style. Bison himself also feels so angry and betrayed that he takes Kant away to kill him. Meanwhile, Fadel has to search for his younger brother as both of them are being hunted by Keen (Pepper Phanuroj), Madam Lily's other adopted child who has been jealous that the two get big assignments. Now he gets an order to kill them because they have screwed up. Fadel threatens Style to follow him and help him look for Bison. The two run for their lives and get closer, feeling both love and hatred for each other. In the end, Bison can't bring himself to kill Kant so he lets him go. However, Kant has real feelings for Bison so he refuses to leave and wants to help him get a normal life. When Fadel and Style find Bison and Kant, they tell them the truth about Madam Lily. The two brothers want revenge, but Kant and Style don't want them to kill anyone anymore, worrying something bad might happen to them. Kant and Style propose that the four of them steal Madam Lily's money and run away together. They kickstart the stealing plan by having Kant and Style enter an event by disguising themselves as waiters and escorts. They find their way to Madam Lily, catch her, demand her to open her safe, and then take something important from her. The whole gang manages to steal big cash and runs away together without killing a single soul.

Ultimately, Kant fails to clear his criminal record but he doesn't care anymore. Now he shares a new dream with Bison. The two run away to another country together while Fadel and Style decide to stay and continue running the restaurant. They're not afraid of the big boss' influence because they have taken records of Madam Lily's illegal activities to ensure that they will be able to live a normal life without anyone bothering them ever again.

Ossan's Love Thailand

The messy love story begins when Heng, a bachelor working in a real estate company whose love life is as hopeless as his work life, stumbles upon his own photos on the phone and computer of branch manager Kongdech, aka his boss. Heng certainly finds this behavior strange, and all the stranger considering that his boss has been married for 30 years.

Meanwhile, Kongdech's daughter has been trying to set her single father up for a match for years after her mother died. She finds out that her father might be in love with someone, and a little investigation leads her to believe that it is someone from the company. She then asks Heng to help her find out who the lucky girl is, only to learn that it is Heng himself who has stolen her father's heart! She is definitely taken aback at first, but after gaining her composure, she puts her whole heart into rooting for her father and hoping for the best for his new love.

When Kongdech finally confesses his love, it sends shock through Heng's world who has never liked men before, and it doesn't help either that this confession comes from none other than his amazing boss. As if things aren't confusing enough as it is, his new colleague and roommate, Mo, also falls in love with him. Heng finds himself in a messy situation, with two men fighting to win his heart. But after living together under the same roof, proximity makes him choose Mo and decides to live together as lovers.

The two men start dating, and all the while Mo realizes that Heng has never had a lover before, let alone a male one at that. But while things are looking up, Chicha, Heng's female childhood friend, confesses her love to him. Mo, who happens to hear the conversation, resolves to himself that maybe Heng actually wants to date women and have the perfect family he has always dreamed of, Mo decides to break up with him and leaves the house, ending their relationship. But instead of a new girlfriend, Heng finds comfort in none other than Kongdech, his own boss, who has slowly taken Mo's place at home, never letting Heng lift a finger around the house. They may be dating now, but Kongdech knows deep down that Heng still has feelings for Mo. On the eve of their wedding, Kongdech finally makes Heng realize just whom his heart actually belongs to. Heng leaves the wedding immediately, running to find Mo who he truly falls for.

Us The Series

Dokrak is an 18-year-old who decides to take a gap year after finishing high school to find herself. She has a part-time job at a coworking space coffee shop called "Cuf & Co." It's here that she crosses paths with Pam, a 22-year-old dentistry student, who is a regular at this cafe to hit the books. Dokrak gets to know Pam and develops a secret crush on her, until Kawee, her 24-year-old biological brother and a medical student, meets Pam by chance and falls for her at first sight. Kawee turns to Dokrak, asking her to play matchmaker. Because Dokrak really loves her brother and wants to see him happy, she agrees to help. Dokrak begins the mission of helping her brother to hit on a beautiful woman like Pam. She coaches him on wooing Pam with different techniques, including taking care of her, flirting with romantic words, and writing a love letter, but as time passes, she finds herself unable to ignore her growing feelings for Pam because of their intimacy. Even Dokrak realizes it, she has already fallen for Pam. Eventually, Pam agrees to date Kawee, so Dokrak must keep her feelings hidden, knowing she can't fall for her "brother's girlfriend."

But as Pam and Kawee's relationship progresses, they encounter challenges due to Pam's reluctance to engage in physical intimacy, such as touching, kissing, and making love. This is stemming from her past trauma as her high school ex-boyfriend once harassed her. This trauma is the reason Pam doesn't like physical touch. One day, Pam discovers that Kawee sleeps with another woman. In the end, Dokrak advises her to break up with Kawee.

Kawee explains that it's just physical cheating, which results from Pam refusing physical intimacy with him. Despite his insistence that Pam is the only one he loves, Pam is deeply disappointed in him. Pam turns to Dokrak for some advice, asking how she should handle it and whether she should give Kawee another chance. On the one hand, Dokrak doesn't want Pam to break up with her brother, but, on the other hand, she feels a good person like Pam deserves better.

Dokrak regrets giving her that advice because after Pam asks for a break up, she disappears from both Kawee and Dorrak's lives. Kawee feels really heartbroken, remaining unable to move on and desperately wanting Pam back. Meanwhile, Dokrak misses Pam, her favorite sister, a lot, hoping for a future reunion with her one day.

After several months, Pam reappears at Cuf & Co, providing Dokrak an opportunity to reconnect after having lost touch for so long. They become close again as Pam generously offers to tutor Dokrak, who plans to take a university entrance exam the following year. Meanwhile, Eak, the 27- year-old owner of Cuf & Co, who has had a crush on Pam all along, notices a close relationship between Dokrak and Pam, so he asks her to act as a matchmaker between him and Pam. Simultaneously, Peem, a 23-year-old barista known for his kindness and good looks, confesses his feelings to Dokrak.

Dokrak and Pam both have feelings for each other, but Dokrak chooses to keep them hidden because she doesn't dare to and is, deep inside, burdened by guilt over his brother's situation. Meanwhile, Pam is confused about her actual feelings for Dokrak. In the midst of her confusion, Pam decides to embark on a relationship with a tomboy named Oat, who is about the same age, hoping to clarify her feelings towards women. However, Pam eventually realizes that she has no feelings for Oat, but her affections lie solely with...Dokrak.

Acknowledging her feelings, Pam straightforwardly confesses to Dokrak, leading them to start a romantic relationship together. Pam and Dokrak both enjoy a period of happiness until Kawee discovers their relationship. Kawee seems very hurt and disappointed. Stricken with guilt and remorse for causing her brother pain, Dokrak decides to end her relationship with Pam.

Following Dokrak's decision to end their relationship, Pam disappears from her life again, leaving Dokrak seriously in pain. Witnessing his sister in misery, Kawee is filled with guilt, recognizing he's the one causing her sorrow. Eventually, Kawee manages to get over Pam. He urges Dokrak to follow what her heart desires, telling her that he supports her love because he wants his sister to be happy with the person she loves. Dokrak tries her best to win Pam's heart again, and, finally, their love is fulfilled. Pam and Dokrak now have courage to love each other.

Perfect 10 Liners

The chaotic university saga kicks off as Arm (Book Kasidet) realizes his lifelong dream of being accepted into the Faculty of Engineering. However, his moment of triumph is quickly overshadowed by mayhem. As part of a customary ritual, first-year students draw lots to determine their higher-year peer mentors. By a stroke of fate, Arm lands himself into the exclusive circle of the 'Divine Peers,' a group comprising extraordinary students from various years, with Yeepun, a captivating female student, as his second-year peer mentor. To further complicate matters, Yeepun entrusts him with the formidable task of managing the Engineer Cute Boy page, a widely popular online platform.

Despite his reluctance, Arm performs admirably as the page administrator. In response to many fans' requests, he uploads a photo of 'Ark' (Force Jiratchapong), a third-year Civil Engineering student, unaware of the prohibition against doing so, as Ark vehemently objects to such actions. Not knowing the admin's identity, Ark sends a harsh message demanding the photo be deleted. Arm immediately detests Ark's rudeness and develops a dislike for the man. Little does he know, Ark is one of the 'Divine Peers, and to make matters worse, his third-year peer mentor. Despite his reservations, Arm finds himself occasionally Interacting with Ark, not only because of their mentorship but also because many people seek Arm's assistance to connect with the blunt and private Ark.

What Arm does not know is that he is in Ark's inner circle because Ark wants him to. Ark, smitten with Arm at first sight, secretly cares for him and endeavors to better himself to become a suitable match for Arm. Despite his typically hot-headed nature and penchant for risk-taking, Ark restrains himself out of fear of endangering Arm. Meanwhile, Arm remains oblivious to Ark's feelings, Amidst the chaos and many headaches, Arm gradually begins to understand his own heart. Before they realize it, their relationship evolves from peer mentor and peer mentee to boyfriends.

On the first day of university life, disaster strikes hard for Gun (Chimon Wachirawit (t/n: Chimon has now been replaced with Santa Pongsapak). As hapless as he is, Gun accidentally breaks a bathroom faucet and finds himself soaked like a puppy. With a stroke of luck, one classmate comes to his rescue. However, amidst the chaos, Gun is too preoccupied to get a good look at the person's face, only catching a glimpse of their shoes. As he tries to navigate his new surroundings and classmates, Gun is determined to find the one who saved him from the bathroom mishap. Eventually, he tracks down Faifa (Junior Panachai) and expresses his gratitude, unaware that Faifa knows nothing of the incident. As they get to know each other, Gun realizes that it was actually Yotha (Perth Tanapon), Faifa's older Irish twin, who wears identical shoes, that he should be thanking. Despite being siblings, their personalities couldn't be more different. Faifa is friendly and approachable, while Yotha exudes an air of mystery, as if harboring secrets.

Gun suffers from a health issue: he can't sleep in darkness due to an unfortunate childhood incident. This becomes problematic when he shares an on-campus dorm with a roommate who can't tolerate sleeping with the lights on. Yotha, however, has no such issue and offers to switch places with Gun's roommate, as he rarely returns to the dorm at night. Yotha keeps his promise, disappearing after dark and returning in the morning. Gun is suspicious of Yotha's nocturnal activities; rumors swirl, suggesting he's mingling with girls or involved in illicit activities. Gun attempts to confront Yotha about it, but Yotha always avoids the subject.

Yotha is fearful of love, disappointment, and loss. He does not want to lose his mother, as he did with his father. He does not want to be abandoned as his ex-lover did to him. He does not want to see anyone betrayed by their love. So he chooses to become a third wheel in people's relationships, encouraging one party to cheat in the hopes that his actions help the person being cheated on recognize the truth sooner. He frequently gets into disputes and is beaten up by the boyfriends of the girls he charms.

As Gun and Yotha grow closer, they gradually learn more about each other. Yet, when Yotha realizes he's on the brink of falling in love, fear of loss resurfaces, prompting him to withdraw. However, with time, Yotha learns that love isn't always cruel, and Gunyukol is a risk worth taking again.

Wine (Mark Jiruntanin) becomes the latest member of the 'Divine Peers' through the lucky draw. Yotha, Wine's second-year peer mentor, is preoccupied with his boyfriend, leaving him with little time for his mentee. Stepping in, Faifa (Junior Panachai), a remarkably friendly second-year student, takes over the role and looks after his older brother's mentee.

Faifa learns that Wine recently ended his relationship with Toey, his girlfriend from before university, after developing feelings for Tor, Toey's older brother. To avoid further guilt towards Toey, Wine opted for an amicable breakup. Now with Tor's recent coming out as a man attracted to men, Wine feels hopeful but unsure about approaching him. Faifa offers his assistance, volunteering to serve as Wine's practice ground, allowing Wine to hone his approach before making a move on Tor.

From their close interaction, feelings unexpectedly blossom. Faifa finds himself genuinely falling for Wine but hesitates to reveal the emotions, fearing it might disrupt his role as Wine's coach in pursuing Tor. Meanwhile, Wine also develops affection for Faifa, though Faifa's naturally over-friendly demeanor leaves him uncertain about his own significance to Faifa.

Faifa nearly loses Wine before they both muster the courage to confess their feelings. In a bold move, Faifa, who has never been truly committed to anyone, changes his approach for Wine, abandoning his flirtatious ways and prioritizing Wine above all else. In turn, Wine becomes Faifa's singular focus, capturing Faifa's heart like no one else ever has.

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist

Sont is a marketing student who has been single for far too long. One day, per the recommendation of his student mentor, Sont goes on a date with Jamie or Jay, an older dentistry student. But no matter how impressed Sont is by their first meeting, he can't bring himself to like some aspect of Jay's personality, especially his tendency to be a little bit narcissistic. Sont decides to not take this relationship further, and the two have been apart ever since.

Two years later, Sont is now studying in his third year and working his butt off to make his TikTok account go viral. "Sleepy Eater, Hungry Sleeper" is a two-year-old channel of his with barely more than 600 followers. His main content is food ASMR that stems from his love of desserts and snacks. Whatever dessert it is he's eating in the stream, Sont will gulp it down within minutes. He even gets snacks from his sponsors sometimes.

One day, while Sont is streaming, his toothache gets so bad that he has to stop. His best friend/roomate like Guck then has to urge him to see a dentist since this isn't the first time it happens, and not likely the last. Pestered by the pain in his tooth, Sont finally has to go to a dentist, and finds out that his mouth is no better than a dental battlefield that needs teeth cleaning, filling, and even some root canal treatment that would cost him quite a fortune. Being nearly broke as he is, Sont clearly can't afford it. That's when his dentist recommends being a case study patient for dentistry students, where they treat his dental problems for free.

The next month, Sont has become a complete case for Dr. Ming, a fifth year dentistry student. This brings him face- to-face with Ming's assistant dentist, Jay, who Sont hasn't seen since their last date. The two years have changed Jay in some ways, but Sont notices that his narcissistic tendency remains intact. Sont thinks he will never see Jay again after the treatment, but as fate would have it, Jay's family happens to own the building Sont lives in, and since the convenience store downstairs is short-staffed, Jay is now filling in as a part-timer. Now every time Sont wants to buy the snacks he craves, he has a dentist-in- training stopping him from ruining his teeth further. Jay truly is the destroyer of joy to Sont now.

Even though he's making some money from his ASMR channel, it still isn't enough to make ends meet. Sont decides to get a job at Craft Cake where he meets his new boss, Captain, an old friend of Jay who has quit his job and opened his own business. Sont has come at the right time and helped the business gain some recognition. All this while, Sont keeps running into his boss' friends like Ming and Jay who somehow always show up at the place much more often than Sont would like.

What amazes Sont is that, the more he gets to spend time with Jay, the more he sees who Jay really is. Now someone he once discarded has taken a special place in his heart. Even the narcissistic tendency now seems like a cute and silly streak. Meanwhile, Jay seems to be very private with his feelings to Sont, unlike Captain, who has been more and more obvious that he's into Sont. And as Sont moves closer to Captain, a part of him wonders if Jay still has feelings for him like two years before. He doesn't want to risk what they have now by asking, and in the end just waits for someone to be the braver person and finally asks if what they are is more than just friends.

The Ex-Morning

Pathaphee or Phee is a famous news anchor of Good Day Thailand. He is a rising star in journalism. With his bright and lively personality, he is beloved by the public. But his life turns upside down when the video of his abusive behaviors towards his co-anchor is leaked to the public. His co-anchor is injured in the incident. From a rising star, he turns into a falling star.

Pathaphee is suspended from work. He has to sell his luxurious car. He tries to get a job at other news agencies but no one wants to work with him. Due to a trauma, he has a panic attack and is unable to do a live news report from the field. Luckily, he still has Young, an exclusive news editor who has adored and been close with him since he was an intern. Young gives Pathaphee a chance to work with a talented producer who holds an overseas degree on a new show. Pathaphee feels blessed for the second chance that he gets. He is relieved that at least a good thing comes out of this turmoil. But as soon as he meets the producer, he is not sure if this chance is really a blessing. The producer is Tamtawan, his ex-boyfriend. Their breakup was so terrible that Pathaphee developed an anxiety disorder after that. He still suffers from it even now. He knows that the person who is supposed to be his savior can end his career for good.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan were dating when they were in college. Tamtawan was his senior at the faculty of journalism. They were competing in everything they did. However, they had a promise that Tamtawan would support Pathaphee's dream to be a news reporter. On the day that Pathaphee had an audition for a news reporter position at a major news agency. In the audition, he needed to give a live field report and the judges would watch it. While he was reporting news, Tamtawan's breakup message was among the keywords for the news report that the creative sent him. Moreover, his news reporting was interrupted by a group of local mafia. His news reporting ended in a disaster. He was eliminated.

Pathaphee wanted to know the reason why Tamtawan broke up with him. But the truth he found out that he stole his critique of journalism and used it to apply for a scholarship at an overseas university. He was accepted to the university because of his work. He decided to dump him.

Pathaphee worked hard and achieved his dream of being a news reporter. He loathes Tamtawan more than anything in this world. But now he is so desperate that he has no other choice but to work with Tamtawan under one condition. Tamtawan needs to help him regain his followers. He must have ten million followers in the next three months. If he fails, he needs to resign from the news agency. If he refuses his offer, he will expose that he stole his work which helped him get his scholarship.

Tamtawan dislikes Pathaphee but he thinks his offer is challenging and interesting. He accepts his offer but he also has a condition. If he successfully helps him regain his followers, he needs to apologize to him and call him "Master" for three months.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan work together as a news reporter and a producer. Their past has a major influence on the dynamic of their current relationship. Though they always a way to tease each other, flirting can also be seen between them. As they are chasing the truth, they become close. Physical touches, that accidentally occur while they are working together, reignite the spark between them. Their relationship is like unpredictable weather. It's confusing but also intriguing.

Tamtawan does not come back for his work. He has a hidden mission to help the man he cares for. He comes back to find the mafia who exposed the video that destroyed Pathaphee's reputation and put his life in danger. The ex-lovers need to work together to find the real criminal behind their case and their true feelings for each other. Will the flame in their hearts change them? Will they learn about the change together?

Revamp: The Undead Story

Punn (Prem Warut), a 24-year-old antique shop owner, is enlisted by his gallery-owning friend to restore a painting vandalized under mysterious circumstances one night. During the restoration process, Punn accidentally injures himself on a shard of mirror, inadvertently staining the artwork with his blood. This act awakens Ramil (Boun Noppanut), the last descendant of a vampire lineage, trapped within the painting for over a century. However, Ramil emerges powerless and becomes the target of relentless pursuit by the "Hunters." Tasked with aiding Ramil in reclaiming his lost powers, Punn embarks on a journey to locate Ramil's former servants, now living discreetly among humans. As they collaborate, a deep bond forms between Punn and Ramil, blossoming into love and trust. Yet, their relationship is tested when Ramil's enigmatic past becomes intertwined with Punn's own mysterious background, seemingly orchestrated by an external force. Together, they confront their doubts and fears, striving to overcome adversities before reaching their ultimate destinies.

Thame - Po (เธม-โป้) HEART THAT SKIPS A BEAT

In need of a job, 'Po' finds himself accepting an offer to make a documentary about a boy band "Mars" to make ends meet. Only he doesn't know he's not making a documentary about their success, but their disbanding, due to the leader of the band 'Thame' on the verge of signing a new contract in South Korea.

Filming Mars makes Po realize that, even with all the internal conflicts, Thame never wants to leave. And the only way to save this band is for Po to smooth out any misunderstandings between the members and Thame.

This mission to make all five members of Mars stay together has now become the backdrop of the beginning of love between Thame and Po. And Po will have to realize that dating an idol is no child play at all!

Hide & Sis

Chatfah, the youngest sister of the Buppajinda family, has just received the most share of the inheritance from her father and is about to get married. Unfortunately, Chatfah falls from the highest floor of a vacation home to her three older sisters' shocked eyes before her body disappears. The three sisters namely Baibua, Chompoo, and Picha become suspects in Chatfah's disappearance.

Baibua Boontharika is the eldest sister who is composed, wise, and has always sacrificed for her family. Chompoo Chompoonuch, the second sister, is a beautiful and confident model whose boyfriend Chatfah has stolen to get married to. The third sister, Putpichaya is a jewelry designer who is the closest to Chatfah. The three girls try to find Chatfah while a lot of mysterious things happen after their youngest sister goes missing. Putpichaya gets so violently ambushed that she almost dies. Chompoonuch falls from grace due to a rumor that she has killed her sister out of anger after she has stolen her lover to marry him. Boontharika struggles with managing her company because of the gossip and accusation that the flowers there have a curse of death!

When no one else can be trusted, the three sisters must try to trust each other. They move back to live in Buppajinda Mansion like in their childhood days to find out who is behind Chatfah's disappearance, which could very well be one of them. But what's waiting for them at the mysterious mansion is not only the truth about Chatfah's disappearance but also stories that have been hidden since the past - the rift between siblings caused by dishonesty and deceit in their parents' generation leading the girls to turn enemies and hurt each other. Eventually, the three girls discover the truth of more than one real culprit in the Buppajinda Mansion. The red color of the flowers is then no longer the color of blood, death, or curse.

Leap Day

Legend has it that male infants who are born at noon and at midnight on February 29 of a leap are destined to bring misfortune upon each other.

On February 29, 2000, at 00.00 AM, a baby boy called Midnight comes into the world, losing his mother due to a hemorrhage. This similar incident occurs again at 12.00 PM on the same day when another baby boy called Day is born.

Four years later, Day unexpectedly loses his dad in an accident, while Night's dad passes away because of cancer. Since then, their lives encounter recurring losses every four years. These losses take different forms, ranging from one losing the relative, whom he has taken care of as a result of a major car crash on the highway to the other losing the person who has taken care of him after being caught in the crossfire in the frightening shooting rampage, and so on. Every loss they endure occurs on February 29!!

Those around them start to feel scared and try to push Day and Night away because they don't want to be victims of the supposed curse. Night and Day grow up in isolation without bonding with or loving anyone until Night meets Dream, the girl who steps into his life and brings light into it. Dream turns into the only happiness he has in life.

Meanwhile, Day finds himself suddenly tasked with caring for Ozone, an autistic boy, who is the son of his elder sister, a distant relative of his. She dies in a tour bus overturned accident. At first, Ozone doesn't approve of him and doesn't open up to him because he believes Day is the reason for his mom's death. However, with effort and dedication in taking care of him, Ozone finally accepts him and starts to bond. At the same time, the relationship between Night and Dream keeps growing stronger.

As their 20th birthdays approach, both Day and Night fear of losing their loved ones. Night tries to break up with Dream, but she refuses to, while Day follows Ozone everywhere. Finally, their birthdays arrive. Ozone feels uncomfortable because Day keeps following him everywhere, so he tries to run away, crossing the road while Dream and Night's car is rushing in fast. Dream still doesn't understand why Night wants to break up with her. They are busily arguing, so they fail to notice Ozone. It's too late when they see him. Ozone is hit by their car and is so severely injured that he falls to the ground. The car then crashes into an electric post. Dream immediately passes out. Their injuries are both so severe that it seems they won't survive, but that year, it turns out they are safe. Nobody dies.

Friendshit Forever

"You're like a sister to me. You're my best friend," is what Baikhao says to Tulip not long after they first met, before both of their worlds turn upside down.

Tulip and Baikhao are supposed to be the best of friends. Their friendship looks beautiful from afar, but up close, it's ridden with envy and the tight grip of past grudges that won't let them go.

Parents make mistakes just like any other human being. It is only too bad that children must inherit those sins.

Baikhao befriends Tulip with the intention to take revenge for what Tulip's father did to her. She won't stop until justice is served for her father who killed himself and her mother who went insane after losing her younger sibling in a miscarriage. And for this sole purpose, Tulip will be used as a tool to destroy her own family.

Baikhao has help in the form of high school friend Tao, who has had a crush on her all these years and will do anything for her, including killing.

While Tulip has Namo, a classmate in the same major she mistakes for being gay, but is actually in love with her. Namo sticks around to protect her from harm. He may not be a match for her in terms of social standing, but whatever concerns Tulip, Namo is willing to put his life on the line for, and he must save Tulip from Baikhao's vile plan.

But revenge never ends well, if not straight up tragic, especially between two "best friends."

The Dark Dice

Samut, a senior in high school, is an academic achiever. He is a representative of his school competing in academic contests. But his bright future vanishes after he is involved in an altercation. He is expelled from school. He is transferred to a new school. Because of the trauma, he loses his passion for school.

Samut finds an ancient dice which brings him and seven other students into a mysterious board game. The eight students are competing, outsmarting, and backstabbing each other to stay alive in this mysterious game. Their lives are at stake. The only way to get out of the game is by defeating other contestants.

Break Up Service

Boss is a man who is destined to ruin other people's relationships. He works for Break-Up Service, a company that helps people break up with their partners. Boss meets Juet, a penniless woman who comes to apply for a job at his company. She is assigned to be his work partner. Boss prefers to go solo when he works. He keeps picking on Juet in hopes that she will resign. No matter how Boss tries to provoke her, she endures them all. She proves her worth again and again by successfully completing her tasks to break up couples.

The rookie and the veteran are working together to destroy other people's romance. Before Boss realizes, he has fallen in love with his partner.

Scarlet Heart Thailand

Nabun is a hair stylist who's on her luck slump. She's just lost her job, her life is ruined and her boyfriend cheated on her. Nabun needed an escape to Chiangmai to put her heart back together. While in the hot spring, Nabun has an intrusive thought that life can't simply be altered. Suddenly, Nabun drowns in the hot spring. After struggling against death, saved by miracle or destiny, Nabun rises in the middle of a private hot spring with naked princes who are enjoying their hot spring as well. The princes jolt to find a strange woman popping up from the hot spring. Nabun runs for her life and is shocked to find herself in the body of Chao Laila, a sickly young lady of Chiang Rung, a mysterious Lanna Kingdom dating back 300 years ago.

Nabun in Princess Laila's body has to adapt to survive in the ancient regime days. She finds herself struggling both in survival and love. Nabun meets Chao Saen Thep, her sister's fiance. Chao Saen Thep is kind to Nabun which is the opposite of Chao Mueang Fah who's stern. Nabun also meets Chao Chai Kaew, Chao Kong Thai, Chao Chom Harn, and Chao Fah Kram who all find Nabun mesmerizing as she dares think and speak differently from the other girls. Nabun brings new colors to Chiang Rung.

In the regime's grand ceremony, the crown prince is the target of assassination but Chao Mueang Fah plots a switch up and gets himself hurt as a result. Chao Mueang Fah investigates the case and finds that his mother and older brother are part of the assassination plot as Chao Chai Kaew has been aiming for the crown prince post. Naboon knows that Chao Mueang Fah is the parasite of the family as his hair has turned white ever since he was young. Everyone despises Chao Mueang Fah except Chao Hong Kham, the beautiful princess who secretly has a crush on Chao Mueang Fah but never dares reveal her heart.

Nabun becomes the center of attention of all the princes. Chao Saen Thep falls for Nabun even when he has a fiance. Chao Mueang Fah knows that Chao Saen Thep will bring troubles for Nabun so Chao Mueang Fah challenges his sibling for a boxing match to announce that Princess Laila is his. Nabun argues that she has her own life, this is because she doesn't know that Chao Mueang Fah is trying to protest her from getting bullied by Chao Hong Kham. Chao Mueang Fah is hoping to pull Nabun out of Chao Saen Thep's forbidden love.

Naboon owes her life to Chao Mueang Fah, has Chao Saen Thep as the owner of her heart, Chao Kong Thai as her advisor, Chao Chom Harn as a brother who can risk his life for her, and Chao Fah Kram as her best friend. Nabun is secretly rooting for Bua Sai, a royal dancer to win over Chao Fah Kram's heart. Chao Fah Kram whose love cuts the social hierarchy has to hide his relationship as Bua Sai could die if anyone finds out. The war of love situates itself amid the war of power. In the oath-giving ceremony, the king is poisoned and Nabun is held into custody as she works in the food preparation part for the king. Chao Saen Thep investigates and finds out that this is a conspiracy between Chao Hong Kham and Maha Dhevi (the queen). Nabun is sentenced to death while Chao Mueang Fah is trying to confirm her innocence and help Nabun out in all the ways he can. Chao Saen Thep decides to keep quiet instead of fighting for the one he loves. Nabun slips out of death when someone decides to give themselves in. Chao Mueang Fah takes Nabun to a house on the mountain to escape the chaos. Nabun gets closer to Chao Mueang Fah and realizes that behind his stern exterior is love and unconditional care.

In the ceremony to beg the gods for rain, everyone is surprised to find the black-haired Chao Mueng Fah as the one who conducts the ceremony until the rain comes. No one knows that Nabun helps Chao Mueng Fah to achieve slick black hair as well as calculate the date and time rain would come. Chao Mueng Fah becomes a rival that Chao Chai Kaew deems to get rid of regardless that he's his family. Chao Saen Thep is also hiding the rivalry against Chao Mueng Fah under the cover of a good guy. Chao Mueang Fah is sent on a diplomatic mission at Wiang Merng Marng to have Chao Pha Wiang, a cousin, kill him.

Chao Chai Kaew stirs up a rebellion but Chao Mueang Fah stops him. Chao Meung Fah stabs his brother and Chao Chai Kaew falls off the cliff. Not long after Chao Yod Lah steps up as a king, Chao Chai Kaew is not dead yet and he comes back for the throne. Chao Chai Kaew takes Nabun as hostage which forces Chao Mueang Fah to give in to save his lover's life. He reluctantly accepts when his brother steps up as the next king.

Nabun has a nightmare of Chao Mueng Fah killing Chao Kong Thai. She fears that there will be a blood bath among siblings. The king, Chai Kaew fears being dethroned to the extent that he goes crazy. He orders to have Nam Nang, a daughter of an army leader and the lover of Chao Kong Thai killed. Chao Kong Thai begs Chao Mueang Fe to kill him for he wants to die with his wife. Chao Mueang Fah has to kill his younger brother in tears. Nabun is shocked to see Chao Mueng Fah's body soaked with blood just like in her nightmare and there are lots of people who have to die because of him.

Chao Chai Kaew, as the king, rules the regime with terror to the extent that he is drugged to death in front of Chao Mueang Fah. Chao Mueang Fah ascends to the throne as the king and Nabun is the only person who knows this secret. Chao Mueang Fah speeds up his marriage with Nabun which gives Chao Saen Thep an excuse to get in the way. He holds it against them that it is against the royal family's conduct as Chao Laila does not hold the direct royal bloodline. Chao Saen Thep appoints Chao Hong Kham as the queen instead.

Chao Chom Harn couldn't stand seeing Nabun being devastated so he shows the paper from the previous king which states that he is allowed to marry Chao Laila. Chao Mueang Fah refuses to let Chao Chom Harn take Nabun away from the royal palace but Chao Chom Harn uses his power as the army leader to hide Nabun far away from King Mueang Fah.

Chao Fah Kram decides the give up his posts to live a simple life with his true love, Bua Sai. Nabun gets sick from Chao Laila's existing chronic illness, she's waiting for Chao Mueang Fah with depleting breaths. Chao Mueang Fah appears in front of her and Nabun wonders "Is this the truth... or a dream?". Nabun passes away in the arms of the man she loves with all her life. The sound of Chao Mueang Fah crying echoes in her mind.

In Chiangmai, Nabun miraculously wakes up. She became a famous influencer from her content about the Chiang Rung regime in an exhibition called "Chiang Rung, a mysterious regime waiting to be discovered". Nabun's heart beats fast when her eyes meet with a royal family descendant who's the owner of the exhibition, Mueang Fah, who's wearing a suit. He pulls Nabun in for a kiss and asks her, "Do you remember? You once said that lives can't be changed that simply except for dying and being rebom." Nabun hugs Mueang Fah and she realizes that everything isn't a dream but the destiny's twist of fate, one where they are ready to hold hands and embark on it together once again and forever.

#ossan's love thailand #the heart killers #the ex morning #us the series #sweet tooth good dentist #scarlet heart thailand #thame po #the dark dice #perfect 10 liners #leap day #friendshit forever #gmmtv 2024 #hide & sis #revamp the series #gmmtv 2025 #gmmtv 2024 part 2 #gmmtv #break up service

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daycourtofficial · 5 months ago

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Blood moon in Autumn

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of violence

Summary: fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series, however this can be read as a standalone. @writingcroissant actually gave me the idea for this so everyone say thanks Tori 🥰

Death was imminent, you were sure of it. Every fiber of your being ached, the pain emanating from your lower abdomen through the rest of your body. It felt like someone was stabbing you with a rusted, dull knife, the blade carving out your insides slowly at their leisure.

You heard your bedroom door open and close, footsteps coming towards the bed. You groan in greeting as the steps get closer.

“Just leave me here to die, Er.”

A soft chuckle makes its way to your ears, despite the layers of blankets you are burrowed beneath, the blankets not offering you the comfort you so desperately crave.

“You’ll be remembered for even in death, your flare for the dramatics never faltered.”

You push your face from the blankets, allowing your face to be seen. You scowl towards your mate, his smirk making you want to push him from the window. You take in the sight of him - he had changed into more relaxed clothes since you saw him last. Gone is his formal jacket, a deep red velvet with golden leaf embroidery. The garment would make anyone look like court royalty, but on Eris it made him look positively radiant, as if the fires of Autumn truly originated from him, as if the apple orchards and the crops found their nutrients from him. You loved when he wore it, your fingers tracing the fine embroidery along the lapel as you would straddle his lap, grinding softly-

You groaned, the idea of moving so much making you nauseous and slightly dizzy.

Now he wore a loose, billowy shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual brown trousers covering his toned legs. If it were any other day, you’d devour him. Any other day, you’d pull him directly into bed, pushing his clothes off of him, neither of you leaving bed until you slipped his shirt on to grab the two of you some pastries.

Instead, the sight of him made you slightly annoyed - he seemed fine as he set down a tray on the table next to you. He was fine this morning when he rose, having to tend to some things before returning. You were dying, and he was perfectly fine. You groaned, shifting to sit up on your elbows. “What’s this?”

“I believe those of us who leave our beds call it ‘food’.”

His smirk disappears at the pillow that hits his feet. He sends you a withering glare that just makes you scoff. “That could have hit the tray of coffee I made for you.”

You perked up at the sound of coffee - you were sure the warm liquid would at least distract your insides. Or at least provide you some comfort.

You’d take anything at this point.

“Did you make the coffee? Or did you just prepare the tray?”

“What difference does it make? Coffee is coffee.”

“Well, if Jora made it, then I aimed perfectly for your feet.”

“What if it was my coffee?”

“Then I would have aimed for the tray.”

He gives you a withering stare, his fingers halting their movements. “Now that’s no way to treat your mate who lovingly made you coffee.”

You squint your eyes, “if it’s my mate that’s making the coffee, it’s more of an assassination attempt than love.”

“You wound me, my love.” Despite your grievances, he continues preparing your cup exactly as you like it.

“Is the wound fatal?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall pay my respects at your funeral, then. With my next husband.”

His eyebrow quirks as he rests the cup on your side table before he rounds the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets on top of you. He crawls in behind you, his body heat causing you to melt.

“Next husband?”

“I will get lonely. Besides, the hounds need a male’s touch. They’ll grow soft under me.”

“And who is this next husband? Is he capable of this?”

Before you can ask what ‘this’ is, he slides his arm around your waist, his palm lying flat over your lower abdomen, his fingers spreading across your skin. Your skin began heating under his touch, and you moaned at the relief he provided you.

“If he’s not, he’s not worth it. Perhaps one of your brothers will be capable. Lu, maybe?”

Eris growled at the teasing, your friendship with Lucien a constant sore spot for him amidst his rekindling relationship with his youngest brother. He hated to admit it, but he seethed with jealousy watching you interact with Lucien, the way your conversation would flow easily.

A life of regrets and Lucien takes several of the top five spots.

“Lucien would make a terrible husband. You’d never see him - he spends all day brushing his hair.”

“I like a well-groomed male.”

“The noises his eye makes would keep you up all night.”

“I think you’re getting us confused. The whirring would soothe me to sleep.”

He buries his face into your neck, mumbling, “you are not marrying Lucien.”

“Alastor, perhaps?”

You clutched onto Eris’s arm, the heat providing you some relief. You nuzzle your head into his bicep, and he blows out a hot breath, “if I die, and you are unable to continue alone, marry outside of my family, leave my brothers out of your marriage pool.”

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off.

“Not Azriel.”

You huff, “well if I can’t have a Vanserra or Azriel, I’ll stay alone forever.”

“I prefer that alternative.”

“I will rule Autumn alone. Just as Beron would have liked.”

You spin in his arms, pushing his shoulder down so he’d lay on his back. You crawl on top of him, laying so every inch of you is touching him in some way. Not an inch of space exists between your bodies. You poke his ribs, urging him to start heating up. He ignores you, so you start tugging on the bond between you two.

“Patience is a virtue, don’t they teach that in the war camps they call villages?”

“I’m dying, I think the Mother can forgive my lack of virtues.”

He huffs, but starts warming his skin to better provide comfort. You groan, laying in silence with him for several moments, the heat a comfort to the constant pain.

A few moments later you roll, your back laying across his chest.

“Ah,” you sigh, the pain in your lower back lessening at his touch.

“You’re spinning like game over a campfire.”

He rests his hands on your lower abdomen, the warmth making the stabbing pain into a dull ache.

You sigh at the contact, practically melting at how he soothes your muscles.

“I want to go bathe but that requires movement and leaving this bed.”

Eris laughs into your hair, but you hear the water running in the bathroom. You groan just thinking about how soothing the water would feel on your joints. You breathed out slowly through your nose, preparing yourself for the trek across the room.

You rolled off of Eris, and before you could get off the bed, Eris moved from behind to in front of you, his feet landing softly on the floor.

“Care for a ride?”

You nod, and his arms sweep you up.

“I think this is my preferred method of travel.”

“Perhaps this is how you will tour Autumn, hm? I shall carry you throughout the lands.”

You laugh as he sets you down, helping you remove your clothes. He must be warming the air somehow, because you don’t feel the chill of the air when your clothes are completely off. He helps you into the water, which you melt into immediately. You close your eyes, laying back in the tub, the porcelain a nice surface to lean against.

You’ve completely forgotten about Eris’ presence until you feel him nudge your shoulders forward, his lean body slipping behind you into the tub. His legs stretch besides yours, and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s no way my next husband will be as helpful as you are.”

He breathes out through his nose, “I fear you can only marry down from here. A pity, truly.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader

Thanks for reading 💕

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #acotar writing #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

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thewidowsledger · 3 months ago

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The Call

Chapter 1: First Day | 3.9k

Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, angst angst angst, violence, triggering Natasha’s trauma if you squint because that's what we do for a living

Author's Note: You are Fury’s adoptive daughter in this series and I wrote Yelena as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, not a Black Widow. So basically Natasha and Yelena doesn't know each other. I tried doing my best researching about Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. so please spare me with my mistakes.

I dedicate this chapter to @a-spes and @notlhecxzsa because they’ve been nothing but very supportive of this series🤲💗

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova”

“Natasha Romanoff”

“Red Room”

“Black Widow”

Your eyes hurt as you look at the screen fiercely, having to put your eyeglasses on your head. Your eyes run over every word and detail gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D. on the assassin's life. You’ve read and reviewed all of this, you’ve studied her for almost half of your life.

She was supposed to be taken out by Clint, a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent like you. The difference between you and Clint is that Clint is a level 6 agent and you are a level 8 agent who has more access to information and works as a mission controller. While Clint’s level specialized in espionage and combat.

You and Clint have earned your positions through years of service and exceptional performance. In S.H.I.E.L.D., agent rankings ranged from entry-level recruits to senior positions such as Director and Deputy Directors. In the field, agents were typically divided into levels based on their experience and mission success rates, with higher levels earning more autonomy and responsibility. You and Clint were both considered to be in the upper echelons of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s field agent ranks, respected and entrusted with important missions.

You studied Clint's mission report from Budapest as well.

“I made a different call.” You read to yourself.

You remembered that day, your father, the director, Nick Fury, accepted that call without hesitation. However, you found yourself unable to accept it as easily as he did. You knew that Natasha's past made her dangerous and unpredictable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the assassin had her own agenda. Your concerns were real, but you knew that your father, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. trusted Clint's judgment, and you had no choice but to accept that call.

You turned your attention to the screen of your computer scrolling through the series of surveillance photos, eventually pausing at one particular image that caught your eye. It was a picture of Natasha, her face and arms bloodied. She’s wearing a tight-fitting black tank top that emphasized her toned abs. You’re fixated on the image, your eyes tracing the curve of Natasha's biceps.

“Y/N?”

You jumped in surprise and quickly closed the tabs on your computer. You composed yourself before calling out, “Come in.”

“Deputy Hill.” You nodded, Maria intently eyed you before the both of you bursted into laughter. “What's up, Ri? I missed you.” You immediately circled over your desk and gave her a big hug.

“Fine and you? How's the vacation?” She asked, squeezing your left hand. “Great, so, so great that I wanna sneak out and ditch missions just to go back to Fiji and lay there while I keep my tan up by the beach.”

“That sounds really great, Y/N.”

“Oh yeah, it is.” You replied with a smirk as you walked back towards your desk. “And then I’ll get a call that Hawkie made a “different call” with his last mission.” You raised a hand, gesturing with your two fingers to make an apostrophe sign in the air as you said, “different call.”

Maria just chuckled, her gaze landing on the stack of paper you're fixing on your desk. “I know what those are.” She said, before eyeing you softly.

Of course she does, everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. knows what it is, who’s behind all those thick papers.

It's all about the shot Clint couldn't take, Natasha Romanoff A.K.A. the Black Widow.

You let out a deep sigh as you looked up at Maria, gathering the papers on your desk. "She's coming today, right?"

“Actually Y/N, I’m here to say that they're all in the meeting room now. Clint, your dad and her.”

“Oh.”

⧗

There was a charged energy in the air, the assassin's senses something intimidating coming in, she braced herself and leaned her back straight at her seat—and then here you are, entering the meeting room.

Natasha's eyes widened as she took in your appearance, drinking in every detail. Her gaze slid down on your body, taking in the way your skirt and heels accentuated your legs and the way your cleavage peeked on your top…

“That's my daughter, finally.” Fury said, smiling at you, you peck a kiss on his cheek before standing beside him.

As soon as Fury spoke the word “daughter” Natasha cursed under her breath, realizing that she had just been checking out the director’s daughter. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, embarrassed at her own behavior.

“Agent Y/N Fury.” Fury introduced. You scanned the room taking in the presence of Clint and the infamous Black Widow. You smiled politely at Clint, acknowledging his comeback.

“Barton.”

“Y/N.”

Your gaze swept over the assassin, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. She quickly averted her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the direct eye contact. You couldn't help but smirk slightly at her reaction, finding it amusing.

You took your seat in front of Clint, eyeing her once again before the meeting began.

You glance at the assassin every now and then and the assassin is very aware of it, you made it obvious that you're staring at her even Clint knows but he did nothing about it.

If looks could kill this assassin would be dead on the spot. Your gaze fixed on every detail that you’ve seen on the tabs of your computer, your eyes finally landed on her arms—they're much bigger in person you thought but you quickly erased the stupid thought when the main topic of discussion was finally brought up.

“Natasha Romanoff will now be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.” The deputy director, Maria announced.

There was a moment of silence as everyone digested this information. You know this is going to happen, you saw it coming. You huffed trying to keep your expression neutral but it didn't go unnoticed by the people in the room.

Fury leaned forward in his seat, his gaze focused on you as if he's expecting you to show your disagreement to this decision. “If you have any issues with the situation, just report it,” he said firmly.

You tried to downplay your concerns and annoyance, giving a small shrug in response, but you couldn't hide the tension that had settled in the room. You know damn well that the entire team, including the assassin herself, could sense your disagreement and disapproval but of course you didn't give them the satisfaction of having their thoughts right about you.

Their eyes shifted between you and Fury, watching carefully for your reaction. But the assassin kept her head down.

“If that would be all, I'd like to excuse myself.” You quickly stood from your chair without giving anyone a chance to respond and you made your way towards the door.

Just as you reached for the handle, Fury's voice called out to you, stopping you in your tracks. You shut your eyes before turning to face him, your expression emotionless.

“Sir?” You said, acknowledging his authority, he’s still the director after all…and not to mention that he’s also your father who you always had dinner with every weekend.

“Romanoff will be under your wing.” Before you could even react, he spoke again. “You will be responsible for overseeing her in missions, training, and other SHIELD operations, including both field work and theoretical training. You need to evaluate her progress and provide feedback and guidance as necessary.”

Your eyes scanned the room and landed on Natasha, who sat quietly in her seat.

“Doesn't seem like I have a choice, do I?”

Clint pinched his nose to your reply, he already expected this attitude from you. You saw him squeeze the hand of the assassin.

But the assassin once again tried to avoid your gaze, you couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at her reaction once again. It was clear that your presence and authority intimidated her, which was a good start.

As you turned to leave, you called out to the assassin, “Tomorrow 0800, in my office.”

Before Natasha could even reply, you’re already gone.

“Yes ma’am.” She muttered in the air.

⧗

You were surprised to see the redhead standing in front of your office. You walked past her as if you saw nothing and immediately placed your bag to your desk, you sat back down and saw her figure still standing outside the glassed windows of your office.

You let out an annoyed sigh and stared at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes. It was still ten minutes before your scheduled meeting time.

You fidgeted with your foot, tapping it against the floor. The seconds seemed to tick by slower than normal, and you just wanted the clock to reach exactly 8 o'clock so you could call the assassin.

“Come in.”

Before she could even close the door you fired off a series of questions.

“Did you report to Deputy Director Hill? Before you come waiting outside my office for what seems like hours?” You asked, cocking your brow at her.

She answered quickly, “Yes.”

You continued, "Did you complete your assigned training?"

Again, her reply was prompt, “Yes.”

Impressed but not fully satisfied, you pressed on, “Weapons training?”

“I thin—”

As soon as Natasha began to respond again, you cut her off. “What? You think you don't need them?” You demanded, your voice sharp as if you know what she's going to say.

Natasha's head jerked back, clearly not expecting the abrupt interruption. She looked up at you, her eyes wide, and replied softly, “No, ma'am.”

You tilt your head, “Then go, meet me after.”

“Deputy Hill told me that I might need some guidance in the traini—”

“Guidance?” You shot back with your shocked mocking tone not letting her finish once again, “With a trained assassin like you? You need my guidance?” You chuckled in irritation and disbelief as you slowly shook your head side by side.

“You’ve got so much red on your ledger, I don't think you need my guidance.”

The assassin flinched at your words, it clearly touched a nerve and you knew you had hit that sensitive spot. In that way you wanted her to know that you weren't going to go easy on her.

But only if you knew how much your words affected her.

⧗

“Clint, what's up? Are you supposed to be here? I thought you're still on leave?” Clint brought Natasha in a big hug that she really needs right now after your shoot-to-kill words.

“Nah, not if my best friend is at her first day of work,” he replied, patting her shoulder reassuringly. They continued walking together and Clint asked, “How was it?”

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly, “It's okay.”

“How's Y/N?” Clint noticed the change in Natasha's mood when he asked about you. She seemed hesitant to talk about you, her answer short and clipped. “She uhm…she's okay.” She spoke again, changing the subject quickly. “I’m heading to the training room right now.”

He picked up on her avoidance and decided to play along, though concern still flickered in his eyes.

“I can see through you, Nat,” he started, “Y/N can be tough, she's not the Furious daughter for nothing.”

Natasha looked at him questioningly, “Furious daughter?”

Clint chuckled, finding the ironic nickname funny. “You know, because she's Fury’s daughter, fe-yu-ri…fe-yu-ri-us—because she can be furious at times,” he explained, adding a little pun to it.

He then grew serious again, looking at the assassin intently. “But seriously, Y/N is not someone to mess around with. She’s tough as nails and can be pretty intense when she wants to be.”

Natasha muttered under her breath, “Yeah, I knew that right after she walked in the meeting room yesterday.”

Clint just chuckled and patted her shoulder reassuringly. He knew that you had made quite an impression on her, and he found it somewhat amusing.

“Seems like she left a lasting impression, huh?” he teased.

Natasha's head dropped slightly as she remembered the words you had shot at her a while ago.

“Guidance?”

“With a trained assassin like you? You need my guidance?”

“You’ve got so much red on your ledger, I don't think you need my guidance.”

“Oh yeah she did.”

⧗

You summoned all the agents under your wing. There are 5, Natasha included.

Natasha intently observed each person in the meeting room, her gaze flitting from one face to another as if trying to glean something from their expressions.

Typical guy with blue eyes and blonde hair, with a muscular body and cocky attitude, but Natasha thought that his muscles were just gym muscles. This one girl who introduced herself to Natasha, her name is Madisynn, though chatty, could sometimes talk a mile a minute. And another girl that had this uncanny ability of appearing lost in her work, her face almost buried in piles of papers and documents as soon as she entered the meeting room.

Natasha, the newbie, of course, had observed each of them closely during the small or almost no interaction at all, making mental notes about their personalities but suddenly a girl with blonde hair entered the room with a big smile and boisterous greeting.

“Hiiiiiiii!” She immediately made her way over to you and enveloped you in a tight hug.

“Hi, Lena.”

Natasha watched this interaction intently. She observed the way your stern demeanor seemed to soften slightly as the small woman embraced you. It piqued her curiosity as she realized it was the first time she had seen you even crack a smile.

Just as Yelena was settling into conversation mode with you, she suddenly turned her attention to the team and started greeting them individually, her cheerful persona on full display. When she got to Natasha, Yelena's eyes widened in recognition.

“You're...the Black Widow?” she exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice. “I’m Yelena! I'm such a huge fan!"

Natasha looked slightly uncomfortable, wincing at the sudden attention. She saw how you glared at Yelena but of course Yelena didn't see. But before she could even respond, Yelena quickly turned her focus back to you.

Yelena bounded over to stand in front of you, her face lit up with her signature grin. You couldn't help but chuckle lightly at her infectious energy.

"Seriously, what are you doing here, Lena?" you asked, your voice laced with both fondness and a little bit of annoyance.

With a shrug, Yelena replied, "I'm a part of your unit, right?"

You chuckled again and clarified, crossing your arms together. "You're in the process of becoming a senior agent."

Not missing a beat, Yelena dropped her smile and adopted a playful pout, giving you a puppy-dog look. "But I still need your guidance. I'm still your baby, right?" she whined, her bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated manner.

You looked at her now with a serious expression, your gaze narrowing as you asked your question.

"Did Maria ask you to be here?"

The agent shook her head innocently.

You pressed on, your voice was soothing as if you're trying to talk to a kid to have them say the truth. "Did the director ask you to come?"

Again, Yelena replied with a simple, "Nope." Her answer was so childlike popping the p and carefree that it left you no closer to understanding why she was here.

You hummed as you guessed again, “Clint?”

Now she did not reply or give any hint of response, she just fidgeted with her hands.

You sighed, now serious and knowing you were finally getting to the bottom of it. "Did Kate...?"

Yelena's response, "Yeah," was delivered like a kid caught red-handed. Seeing the change in your expression, the agent looked up at you, her eyes widening with realization as she saw just how seriously you were taking this.

"Okay, okay!" she pouted, her mood shifting quickly to defensiveness.

"Well, I guess Clint told her," she muttered, still trying to justify her actions.

You couldn't help but give her a stern look, silently waiting for her to get to the point.

Realizing she was in trouble, Yelena quickly continued, “And you know how Kate is! She told me you're being a 'meanie' to the newbie.”

Yelena's explanation had left you a little taken aback, but you're actually satisfied at the thought of being perceived as mean…to the newbie.

That call hadn't been an easy one for you, so might as well don't go easy on her.

“I'm not being mean,” you denied calmly, immediately defending yourself as you glance towards the direction of the newbie.

Yelena quickly countered, her pout and the respectful tone in her voice contrasting with her defiance, “You did not make me come at 0800 at your office and expect everything done by that time.”

You chuckled at her audacity, a little amused. Just by making her come to your office early everyday made you mean already? How is she supposed to handle all the things you’re about to unleash to her?

“And they thought sending you here will stop me from being mean to the newbie?” you asked, raising your brows at her.

“Nope, they sent me so the newbie will have a frennie.”

“Frennie, huh?” You replied with a huff. “Great, two pains in my ass.”

Yelena shot back, offended at your words, “See? You're being a meanie!”

Hearing her fiery and child-like reply, you couldn't help but chuckle softly, unable to maintain being serious in the face of her petulant pout and defiant attitude.

With a smirk, you gestured ever so slightly with your chin towards the direction of the newbie who has been patiently sitting alone in the meeting room.

“Shoo, go to your frennie now. It seems like she's waiting for you.”

“Now you're being a bully.” Yelena crossed her arms across her chest, her pouty expression never leaving her face.

You tilt your head, slightly leaning towards the agent, “Go now, before I show you how meanie I can be.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

⧗

“Y/N go easy on her.”

“You're the second person to tell me that today,” you replied coldly to your father, a touch of defensiveness in your voice. “What did I do now? Make her come to the office on weekends when the others don't?” you huffed.

Your father just hummed and you immediately snapped back to reality after you just exposed yourself.

“I heard you never let her out of your office. Never sent her to missions, you know she actually can be the same level as Clint.” Your father noted making you bite your inner lip in frustration. She just got in the agency and the thought of her being on the same level as Clint that quickly made you feel threatened. Are you? No. But that's not fair, you spent years getting onto your level.

“Can we just eat, ‘pa? Let's just leave work behind for just one night?” you asked curtly despite the tension growing between you and your father.

“I’m starting to think you might actually be obsessed with her.” Your father casually said, chuckling slightly thinking you wouldn't take it seriously.

But something just snapped in you.

“Shut up!” Your response came out sharper than intended, your frustration seeping into your tone.

Your father flinched slightly as he was shocked by the suddenness of your outburst making him stop cutting the steak he was eating. The sound of the fork and knife rattling against his porcelain plate echoed in the brief and awkward moment of silence that followed.

You breathe heavily, “I studied her for almost half of my life! I was the one who tracked her down!” Your voice started to rise, and you gesticulated wildly as you spoke, feeling the heat of anger rising. He thinks this is funny?You wished he understood how excruciating this is for you. You have kept this to yourself for so long, keeping it under control but at this point, you're starting to crack.

“She was my mission! I know every fiber of her being for fuck’s sake! Soviet Intelligence to KGB, Red Room,” you listed off furiously, “How she thinks, who she killed and how she’s done each kill!”

“You think this is easy on me, Papa?” you looked at him clenching your brows together, trying not to break down in front of him. “Go easy on her? How about go easy on me?”

“Fuck, go easy on me,” you repeated, muttering under your breath. You sobbed and immediately got up your chair to retire for the night.

You never had any major disagreements with him and even now, you were aware that you had crossed a line by yelling and cursing at his own home, it's the rules he strictly maintained especially when you were younger. You have always been so respectful of him. Hell, you look up to him—the man was your hero.

“Your mother was a Hydra agent before I met her.” He suddenly spoke, the mention of your mother made you stop from your tracks. Fury's voice took on a softer tone as he continued. “The level 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. director falling in love with one of the affiliates of a terrorist organization. What would the world think of me?” He chuckled to himself.

Fury stumbled upon your mother when she was still under the control of Hydra. He had managed to rescue her from their clutches, though she was still imprisoned for the reason that she contributed to the Hydra’s hell-bent expenditure.

To secure her freedom, your mother agreed to work as an undercover agent for Fury, infiltrating Hydra's ranks. It was a dangerous task, but she had hoped it would give her the chance to start anew with you and leave Hydra’s ties behind.

She had died of sickness when you were just 13 years old, but even before that, Fury had adopted you.

“Like you, I knew her too. Every experiment she has done with Hydra, every network operative, plans to overthrow the world government…” he had his own list too. “Her birthday, where she was born, that she was an only child and then I learned her favorite flower, her favorite food, and that she gets rashes when she eats eggs…like you.”

You stood with your back to him, silently crying as you clench your fists together. Each tear rolling down on your cheeks whenever Fury listed off everything she knows about your mom.

“And then,” he said quietly, “I found out she had a little version of herself, you. I found out that you were the light of her life, her reason for living. She loved you more than anything in this world. And I did too, Y/N.”

You felt Fury approach you from behind, his footsteps echoing faintly on the floor. As he spoke, you could tell he was now standing right behind you.

“I was losing hope for the world, I was tired of putting everything back in place. Everyone might think that I spared her, gave her another chance. But your mother was the one who gave me a reason to give life another chance, she changed me. You both did.”

“I miss her,” you managed to say between gasps of air. Unable to hold back anymore, you crumble into your father's embrace. Fury wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried into his chest. He gently stroked your back, comforting you as you let your emotions pour out.

“I do too, baby,” he whispered quietly, “I miss her, too.”

The Call: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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yuri-is-online · 23 days ago

Note

Can I request a part 2 for when the guys leave some of their stuff in the guest room? Can it be with Azul, Jamil, and jade please? Thank you!

While cleaning the Ramshackle guest room, the prefect occasionally finds items that remind them of their guests. Sometimes that is because those items actually belong to them and need to be returned, other times it's just a happy coincidence. Either way, the item needs to be delivered, might as well invite them over again? Or just chase them down, whatever is most convenient.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I was a bit surprised to get this request! In a nice way~ No warnings for this one, just pure fluff. The first one can be found here and more fic can be found on the Masterlist.

Antique Coin

Azul Ashengrotto is a well put together young man. His suits are pressed, his shoes are neatly polished, his rooms are always orderly and without dust.

Which is why he notes immediately when something is even mildly out of place, and completely falls apart once he's in the privacy of his own room. He knew he never should have paid attention to that stupid article Floyd had shared in their group chat, coins being symbols of good luck wouldn't make him relatable to anybody and now he's missing one of his best coins! How stupid could he have been to think that-

"Hello, this is Azul speaking." He snatches up his phone without even checking the caller ID and immediately begins sweating when he hears your familiar breathing (he swears he's not a creep, really! He's just noticed that whenever you speak on the phone, not that you do that often really just when he can work up the nerve and hey this is technically the first time you've called him! Progress he's making progre-)

"Hey there, you got a moment?" Azul can feel the heavy sweat drop on his forehead. He's done enough research to know conversation starters like this are never good.

"I'm a bit busy right now." He tries to lean casually against his desk and glares at the book that has the audacity to fall off his desk and startle you. "Is this terribly important or can it wait?"

You, laugh? Is it nervous, or is it affectionate? Does even know what that sort of laughter would sound, is it bad that he finds your voice terribly beautiful even if it's mocking, even if it's- "Um sorry, but are you missing a coin?"

"A... coin?"

"Yes! I remember you saying you collect them and this one I found in my guest room smelled a bit like the ocean so. Yeah. I thought it might be yours." He smiles.

"My dear, you know I'm just going to say 'yes' and take it from you." You laugh again, how silly that last one was nerves. This one is affection, his hearts are fit to burst with it so it must be. "I'll be there in thirty minutes. If that’s acceptable?"

"Of course! I'll be here." Perhaps that article wasn't completely wrong after all.

Red Feather Accessory

There are few things Jamil hates more than being sick. Assassins don't have sick days, or maybe they do. Maybe they have better benefits than he does. Maybe he'd make a really good assassin in some alternate universie like that one video game series from your world you told him about once, the one with the emblems and gangrene? He doesn't remember much of the conversation Kalim tricked him into having by saying he wanted to hang out in your guest room yesterday.

"But you were so happy to see them!"

Because of course, that had been Kalim's justification. And sure, he probably had been really happy to see you. He'd been running quite the fever and he can't imagine you made that temperature any better.

"Good morning, prefect." He manages it smoothly, you look properly embarrassed to see him this early, your eyes flicker to his hair and linger just a moment longer than normal. "Sleep well?"

"Mostly." You try to focus on his face, but his hair is clearly distracting. Your eyes keep darting back to it, Jamil expected to be embarrassed, but this is oddly empowering. "Is there a reason you're here so early?"

"I think you know why I'm here." You don't, he can tell that much from how you swallow. "Can I come in?"

"Sure?" You move just the bit and Jamil let's himself inside, the doors in Ramshackle always look so damn similar. Just how do you find your way around in here? "Um, Jamil?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know why you're here?" You look lovely

"Of course." He laughs. "I left a hair accessory here yesterday when Kalim decided to visit." How odd, normally you'd flinch if he worded it like that. Instead you just look sort of blurry.

"I see." You're close now, but he can't see you through this weird fog that's filling your hallways. You push back his headband and press the back of your plam to his forehead. "Oof. Well that's not good." Your arm encircles his shoulders and boosts him back up to his feet. He supposes he can afford to lean towards you, there's enough plausible deniabilty in what he's said already to keep his feelings to himself.

"C'mon." You do your best to boost him and march back towards the door. Jamil is smiling similar to how he does when he gets one over on Azul, but you doubt he's planned this. He's so feverish that his skin has gotten clammy. "I already took your hair pin back to Scarabia, ok? Let's get you back to bed."

"That's so kind of you." His hoarse voice tries to purr. "Perhaps you'd like to stay for breakfast?" Thank the seven Grim isn't awake yet. You'd never hear the end of this from either of them.

Encyclopedia of Tea

Books are expensive, you can count on one hand the ones you own unrelated to your school work scattered around your dorm. They are precious to you, signs of your life in a world you don't belong in. A way to tell something about you if someone decided to look at the little shelf you had finally put up in your guest room.

And someone had, because you know damn well this book isn't yours, the process of returning it is guaranteed to be a headache but the longer you hesitate the more ammunition the book's rightful owner will have to accuse you of stealing it. Assuming that's what Jade's goal was anyway, it seemed like something he would find funny to do. You could picture him slipping the book onto your shelf with that calm look on his face.

Jade's face isn't what you would call wildly expressive. He smiles pleasantly most of the time, seldom do you see him frown. Even now when his forehead is knit in concern there's nothing really resembling the scowl you saw during Azul’s overblot.

"Hello Jade, forgotten something?" You hold the book up and shake it slightly. His eyes widen, and his smile drops into something more nuteral. This expression is adorable, it stays as Jade speaks, allowing you to admire it longer

"Oh?" He blinks, Jade wakes easily enough so your own expression flickers to concern at how slow he seems for just long enough to give him back his confidence. "It seems the simplest solution was correct. Thank you, prefect." He reaches for the book, hands lingering near yours as his eyes focus on the title of the book. He is painfully slow in taking it back.

"Do you really take this everywhere with you?" Your hand involuntarily flexes as you retreat back into your personal space. Sometimes you wish you could read minds, it would make this heavy feeling in your heart more explainable. Let you notice the way Jade's teeth display for you and not hide inside your own insecurities, how he wishes you would keep your eyes on him.

"Of course, it helps to have some light reading on hand when things get slow." He wishes you had kept the book long enough for it to retain your scent or some of your warmth. Perhaps now that he's set this precedent, he can fake it. Leave his jacket or his scarf? But no, that wouldn't be believable. He's Jade Leech, the Vice Warden of Octavinelle. You would never believe the real reason the book ended up where it did. His dreams are his to dwell in alone.

"Perhaps as thanks I could prepare one of my favorites for you? To clear the debt so to speak." For now.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #jade leech x reader #i know we had a conversation a bit ago about jade doing research by watching classic rom coms but as i have been blowing upon my bubble pipe #you know whomst would actually do that?#azul. azul would do that. he has every line in titanic memorized so he can sell more shit to people but that's just cope on his part

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shomatoriashi · 4 days ago

Text

11/03/24; 06:20pm

sylus x fem.reader

love and deepspace - spy au | canon divergent | inspired by the kingsman movie series

warnings: unedited; 18+ content; potentially ooc; alcohol use; death of a family member; angst to fluff / smut; sylus is referred to skye in this story / au.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

alternate title: the spy who loved me.

sylus qin-

a name that was synonymous with fear among the underground world.

much of his background was left a mystery, but that didn't stop people from trying to fill in the missing details with their own rumors-

like how he wasn't human due to the destructive evol he carried; that he had struck a deal with the devil himself to obtain such an ability.

or how his movements were as quick and silent as that of shadows, and that sylus had millions of eyes around the world due to his connection to the crows-

yet there was one fact that remained true regardless of what the rumors said, and it was how that man was a vital part of onychinus, a hidden sect made up of skilled assassins and spies that only a select few of people even knew about-

which included your father, the current head of your family's mafia.

he paces around his office, trailing his eyes over his mahogany desk before landing on a picture of you, his sole daughter. his gaze was solemn when he picks up the picture frame, carefully tracing at your smiling features as you were being held within your mother's embrace.

you had turned 24, celebrating your birthday with your mother as you wore the bracelet she had given you that day as a gift. looking at this picture causes the man's heart to clench almost painfully within his chest.

his wife was still so vibrant; how could he have possibly known that her life would end just a mere few weeks later? a bullet had pierced through her heart, his men unable to shield her when a rival faction had targeted her. and upon realizing that your mother had died-

you had changed drastically.

no longer were you the starry-eyed girl who clung to her parents, basking in their unconditional love for you. now, you became someone that had little regard for her own life-

you drank copious amounts of alcohol, going out to bars every single night with every intention to get blacked out drunk. the pain of losing your mother took its toll on you, and truly, your father understood where this behavior was coming from. the loss of your mother was enough to push you over the edge.

despite his best efforts of trying to soothe your broken soul through various means (buying you a new car, filling your room with all of the things you loved)-

it didn't work.

and if he couldn't stop you soon, then he would lose you, too.

he no longer trusted his men to truly keep you safe during this dire time in your life-

which was why he resorted to hiring the devil himself to be your shield.

{ ... }

when sylus was told he had a new client by luke and kieran, he was barely interested and simply waved off their excitement.

however, once the twins showed him the down payment the man, mr. zero, had given him-

he was all too willing to meet with the man to see what his next job would be like. using one of the many bars he had owned as a meeting spot, sylus had sent his client a text detailing the time and place with a thinly veiled warning of what would happen if he was ever late.

adjusting his suit, sylus brushes back his hair while entering the club, crimson eyes scanning the area before heading towards one of the private rooms. the bouncer greets him before opening the door, revealing a middle aged man seated in front of him.

the door was heard shutting from behind him, and sylus takes a brief moment to finally assess zero's features. as the onychinus leader stared at him, he noticed how the man appeared much older than he probably was. a weary expression was seen on his face, and even when he was smiling at him, it was filled with a bitterness.

"i hope that my payment was enough to get your attention, mr. qin." sylus hums, going towards the bar to pour him and mr. zero a shot of whiskey. "you could say that... after all, there's not many people who would give me a down payment of 50 million."

after pouring the drinks, sylus hands zero a glass before sitting across from him. he takes casual sips of the amber liquid, allowing the smoky flavor to burn down his throat as he waited for the older man to speak. zero runs a hand across his hair, tilting the glass up to his lips as he downed the shot of whiskey within seconds. as he slams down the glass, zero pulls out a photograph before sliding it across the table.

setting his drink to the side, sylus takes a moment to admire the picture, seeing a young woman smiling with what he assumed was her mother.

"that's my daughter and her mother... my wife- she was killed a year ago, and i have never been able to forgive myself for being unable to protect my wife." sylus frowns at the image, detecting the way zero's voice broke down. "my daughter still grieves the loss of her mother, and i'm afraid that she'll go down a path that not even i can save her from."

"please, i beg of you, mr. qin. i need you to protect my daughter by whatever means is necessary. if you do this for me, with each month that she remains safe- at least until i can finally bring my wife's murderer to justice, i swear to you, i'll give you 10 million."

sylus's eyes darken with amusement, tilting up his own glass of whiskey as he downs the shot in one gulp. letting out a satisfied sigh, sylus sits back against the couch while spinning the glass around his pointer finger, "10 million per month... and if my services were to last an entire year-"

"money is not an issue when it comes to protecting the ones that i love." zero's gaze was filled with a determination, making sylus break out into an almost shit-eating grin.

perhaps the best clients were the doting fathers who would give anything for their daughters.

{ ... }

your dad had put you on lockdown again.

but were you going to let that stop you?

hell no.

surrounding the borders of your room were dozens of men that worked for your father. not only had they put an external lock on your bedroom door, but a tracker on your phone as well.

deep down, you knew the true reasoning as to why your father kept you in such a luxurious cage-

but you refused to acknowledge it.

feeling your heart begin to clench with pain, you look away from your door and allowed your gaze to land on the shimmering gold settled on your right wrist. as you take in the various charms and the way the gemstones glittered below your bedroom light, a memory of a loving smile was brought to the forefront of your mind-

a loving smile you would never see again.

panic was felt rising against your throat, the raw pain of it all threatening to spill out of you as bitter and harsh as bile. your heart continues to pound, filling you with a desperation as you quickly headed toward your window.

fueled by your own grief, you push open the window and breathe in the cold air, allowing the rush of adrenaline to course through you. your eyes look at the distance between the edge of your window and the ground below. knowing that this was the only way for you to get out of your stifling prison, you began to climb out of your window sill, trying to hang on to the best of your abilities as you decided when the best time to jump was.

as you focused your attention on the pristine grass that was settled below you, the sounds of a motorcycle passing by makes your heart jump within the confines of your throat. your eyes become quickly blinded by the searing light, making you lose your grip on the windowsill.

your body make its quick descent to the ground, and you clenched your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the painful impact-

yet the impact never comes, with your ears managing to pick up the sounds of something shift within the air. your eyes become wide, seeing a tall man with silver hair appear in front of you as he captures you in his arms.

time seemed to stand still, with the perfect stranger shielding you as he landed on the ground with an audible grunt. he ends up taking the brunt of the fall while keeping you safely tucked away with his embrace. blood was felt rushing to your ears, making you feel dizzy as you steadied yourself by placing the palm of your hand against his chest.

you found yourself straddling this man's waist, lips parted as you drank in the sight of him. never before had you seen such a pure, masculine beauty quite like him, with full lips and ruby red eyes that could make your heart melt-

and judging from the sheer girth of his arms wrapped around you, the strength of his body was evident to you as well.

he smirks at you, and you wince when he places the pad of his thumb against your lips, "what's this? has a princess just escaped from her castle?"

your mouth goes dry upon hearing his voice, and had you been given more time, you would have basked in his voice-

however, sudden cries of your name was what succeeds in breaking you out of your reveries. with a gasp, you cling to this hot stranger and look at him with pleading eyes.

"please, you've got to get me away from here, i beg of you."

he shoots up an eyebrow at you, but thankfully does not ask questions. taking you in his arms, he takes quick strides toward the single motorbike settled on the street. you take in the sight of the sleek vehicle, eyebrows furrowed when you saw two helmets settle on the seat.

but you were given little time to think about it, feeling your bare feet land against the concrete as he relinquishes his hold on you. tossing you the other helmet, he gestures at you to get behind him, "if it's a getaway you want, it's a getaway you're going to get, sweetie."

calls of your name were getting louder now, which prompted you to get on the back of his bike while donning the helmet. as he revved up his bike, you made sure to flash your middle finger at your father's men all while clinging to the front of your savior's chest.

{ ... }

sylus wasn't expecting you to be so damn alluring up close. as he felt the way your body was pressed against his back, a strange warm begins to surround him, the sensation being enough to make his heart begin to race steadily from within his chest. when sylus made his escape from your home, the change in your demeanor was immediate.

the sounds of your melodious laughter echoes from behind him, and he sees the way your hair whips from behind you. reaching a stoplight, he brakes in time, balancing his bike while taking a moment to look back at you-

which ends up being the biggest mistake he could make.

he feels the way your head rests against his broad back, noticing the almost wistful expression in your eyes. ignoring the way his heart began to pound, sylus focuses on the traffic light. deciding to hide his emotions behind a snarky remark, he begins to speak, "it's not normal for spoiled princesses like you to get on a bike with a stranger."

sylus swore he could hear your pout, "i'm not a princess... i'm just... i just want to forget."

he hears the way your voice breaks and frowns, ready to say something, but stops when the light turns green. shaking his head, sylus chooses to forget about your pain, recalling the reason why he was put in this situation to begin with.

strengthening his resolve, sylus picks up speed and weaves expertly across the city, the sound of your laughter no longer echoing from behind him.

{ ... }

your savior ends up taking you to the top floor of a high-rise apartment. carrying the two helmets within his hand, you watch as he extracts a sleek black key card from his pocket, opening the door for you to step in first.

"after you, princess."

"i have a name." you fold your arms across your chest, telling the man the syllables that make up your name. amusement was heard in his voice, and you forced yourself to remain calm when his rich voice repeated your name.

"i like that name, it suits a feisty woman like you. as for me, you may call me skye."

as you step into his apartment, you take in the the luxurious furniture, recognizing the brands while your hands traced at the onyx figurines of crows settled on the table. you look back at the man and scoff, "skye? i'm sorry, but that name does not suit you at all."

you look away from him, becoming interested in the cabinet that was filled with expensive bottles of liquor, completely missing the offended look on skye's face. you step closer to the cabinet, pulling the glass door open before gripping at a bottle of cognac.

before you could twist the cap open, sylus stops you by placing a hand around your wrist. a stern expression was settled on his face, "and what do you think you're doing?"

"i'm trying to forget." a flash of emotion was seen in his gaze, yet just as it appears, it was gone within mere seconds. even when you attempted to remove your hand from his grip, skye doesn't relent, managing to take the bottle of cognac away from you.

"whatever you're trying to forget, i'm sure using liquor isn't the answer."

skye places the bottle back into the cabinet, slamming it shut before taking your hand. as he grips at your wrist, you caught sight of your bracelet shimmering against your skin-

making your throat close up in response.

caught up in your painful reveries, you were dimly aware of how skye places you on a seat, settling you in front of a dining table. your eyes never once looked away from the bracelet your mother had given you-

the last gift you would ever receive from her.

you think back to your last day with her-

and the need to reach out and get a bottle to help with drowning your emotions quickly resurfaces, with you ready to bolt towards the cabinet when the sound of glass being slammed in front of you snaps you out of it.

skye was settled in front of you, a frown painting his devastating features when he slides the glass of ice water toward you. "drink this instead, you need it."

unable to find it in yourself to go against him, you take the glass and place it to your lips, draining it within a few gulps. skye watches you intently, noticing the few droplets that fell from your mouth before descending toward your throat, making his eyes darken in response to the sight.

letting out a weary sigh, you place the glass back down on the table, not meeting skye's gaze. listening as he gently inhaled, skye tentatively asks you, "this is none of my business, but i need to know... just what are you trying so hard to forget?"

you don't answer him for several seconds, clenching your eyes shut as you allowed your hands to form into fists against the table. no matter how much time had passed, this was something you would never get over-

"i lost my mom... she was killed..."

you keep your eyes shut, just basking in your memories as you told skye everything. it was strange, but something about skye made you want to open up to him-

that even though you knew it was crazy to feel such a thing for a man you

"to keep it simple, my father... he's a... he's a really powerful man. he comes from a long line- from old money, essentially. when he was younger, he fell in love with my mom, who happened to be a normal civilian."

you take a moment to gather your emotions, taking in a deep breath as your hands began to tremble. just when you felt like you were close to losing it, skye places a hand over yours, engulfing it in a warmth that soothed your anxieties.

opening your eyes, you gasp upon seeing how close skye was to you. his rufescent eyes appeared... softer, somehow. you felt the way his hands gently frame at your face as the pad of his thumb traced at your bottom lip.

"and you were born out of love." skye's voice was solemn, with his expression void of its playfulness. yet his words succeeds in making your throat clench even further in response. you were left dumbfounded, watching as sylus slowly inched closer to you, with his lips a mere few inches away from your own-

why did it feel like he knew?

his breath warms at your lips, and just as you were about to close your eyes to meet with him-

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump away from him.

skye clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he stands from his seat to answer the door. you were about to ask who it was, but stopped when you smelled the familiar scent of your favorite takeout. with the bag in hand, skye returns to you, placing the food in front of you. as you looked at all the containers, you said out loud, "all of these are my favorites..."

you catch the momentary stiffness in skye's composure before he visibly relaxes. "sweetie, you are mistaken, since such a meal can be anyone's favorite."

the strangeness of it all was starting to get to you-

but when skye opens up a container and offers it to you, you allow the lingering scent to wrap around you, awakening in you a hunger that you hadn't felt in a long time. taking a hold of your utensils, you began to dig into your favorite food-

with the lingering doubts still settled at the back of your mind.

{ ... }

being around you proved to be a much more challenging feat than sylus could have ever anticipated.

before he got to know you, sylus had every intention of whisking you away after your failed escaping attempt, keeping you within his penthouse for 12 months with the goal of collecting the 120 million from your father-

but now that he was forced to be in your presence-

forced to see the vulnerability in your eyes along with the pain that came from missing your mother-

he felt something change.

why did it suddenly feel like the money didn't matter to him anymore?

why did the sight of your smile cause his heart to do somersaults within his chest?

why did it feel like his mission was to truly protect you without any conditions?

sylus quickly erases those thoughts from his mind the moment his phone rings. looking down at the screen, he notices the caller's name and visibly stiffens.

it was your father, the man who chose his alias to be zero.

was it already time for his monthly report?

closing his eyes, he answers the call while ignoring the feeling of guilt that threatens to take root inside of him.

{ ... }

your relationship with skye was... odd, to say the least.

despite how serendipitous your meeting with him felt (like he was in the right place at the right time the night of your desperate escape), you couldn't deny that a part of you felt safe with him.

perhaps the loss of your mother made you lose a bit of your rationality. losing her felt like you were left with a gaping hole deep inside of your chest-

a hole that you wanted to be filled by skye.

it was maddening, trying to sift through your emotions when it came to skye. you had been staying with him for close to 6 months now, yet the way he payed so much attention to you (seeming to care for you while buying the things you needed, never once complaining about your presence) coupled along with his lingering kindness-

it was enough for him to weasel his way into your heart-

yet at the same time, you knew that he was acting suspicious. there was something that skye was hiding from you, which did nothing but further complicate the feelings you had for him.

despite how strange everything felt, one fact remained undeniable-

and it was the fact that his presence was enough to pacify the shattering pain of your mother's death, with you practically clinging to him as the days went by. with his snarky and haughty attitude, you felt incredibly safe when he was close to you-

even now, you found yourself yearning for his presence, even though he was settled a mere few feet away from you. your hands itched with the need to grab on to his hand and ruffle his hair each time he teased you-

so caught up in your thoughts, you end up unconsciously walking toward his room, noticing how it remained slightly open. his deep voice was heard speaking in hushed tones into his cellphone, and as you neared the room, you heard a familiar sound coming from skye's phone-

"i don't want the money anymore, i'll send every last penny back, just please-" skye harshly speaks into his phone, making your heart turn to ice when you recognized the booming voice on the other line-

it was the sound of your father's voice.

"how do you know my father?" skye immediately faces you, dropping his phone in the progress. the man visibly pales, swallowing thickly as he shakily called out your name.

"i-it's not what you think, please believe me, it's not what you think it is-"

"you...you lied to me? you had b-been working for my father this whole time?" angry tears cascades down your face, and when skye visibly winces, looking away from you while letting out a string of curses-

that was all the evidence that you needed.

you turn away from him, running out of his room as the tears marred your vision. reaching the front door, you pull it open with a brute force that nearly rips it from its hinges. knowing that he would catch you if you tried to use the elevators, you hurriedly take the stairs, making your desperate descent while choking back your sobs.

everything made sense now-

like how strange it was that skye had another helmet for you-

or how he knew your favorite takeout-

and the way he seemed to read your mind these past couple of months-

it was all because of your father.

everything had been meticulously planned by him-

and you were stupid enough to fall for it.

gasping for air, you manage to escape out of the apartment building, the tears streaming even faster down your cheek as you staggered into the street, breaking out into a run while praying that skye wouldn't find you.

your mind was in a deep haze, exhaustion tingeing your every step when a low whistle was heard.

"i knew you'd run out of onychinus's cage eventually."

your movements ceased when you felt the barrel of the gun become pressed against your head, an icy sensation now felt coursing through your veins. your throat turns dry, and you caught sight of a tattooed man sneering at you, cocking his gun once more before pressing it against your temple.

"you're comin' with me, princess." he smirks at you, continuing to press the gun even closer to your head, "as much as i'd like to shoot your pretty little brains out like i did with your mama, i'm sure your daddy's willing to pay a hefty price just to have you back. once i get the money, then i'll kill him before claiming victory-" he was suddenly cut off when a crow manages to slam the gun out of his hands, its beady eyes never once straying from the man as it let out a harsh caw!

"what the fuck-"

the man was unable to finish his sentence when darkness surrounds the entirety of his body, wrapping around his form like deadly tendrils-

"close your eyes, princess."

recognizing skye's voice, you immediately turn away from him and clench your eyes shut, hearing a piercing scream before the wet sounds of something imploding in on itself echoes throughout the area. you fell down to your knees, only to be caught by a powerful pair of arms.

you were openly sobbing now, clinging to the front of his shirt, "s-skye... w-what...why-"

skye cuts you off, swallowing your words with a searing kiss when he crashes his lips against yours. you moan at the sudden sensation, tightening your grip on him as he pulls you into his broad chest, shielding you from the gruesome sight that was settled a mere few inches away from you.

"not here," he purposely crushes your face within his chest, blocking your vision when he picks you up. your tears were still falling, yet you felt the strange sensation of your body being pulled, with the air seeming to crackle with static in response for a brief moment-

before landing back within the quiet safety of skye's living room.

with your face still hidden within his chest, you felt the way skye began to tremble, pulling away from you. he shakily frames at your face, using the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before telling you, "fuck, i thought i lost you-"

as if remembering the moment, skye takes you back into his arms, pressing another kiss against your lips, filled with an even greater desperation than the last one.

not daring to break apart his connection to you, he takes you to his bedroom, kicking down the door before falling into his bed with him. your hands grip at the silken sheets, letting out a moan when skye dips a hand into the waistband of your pants.

"it may have started out as a lie, but my feelings for you are true." you feel the way he dips a finger into your folds, collecting your arousal as you tossed your head back in response. his breathing becomes labored when he inserts his middle fingers inside of you, thrusting the single digit in and out of your core before huskily admitting to you, "my true name... is sylus qin... and your father hired me to protect you."

a part of you felt angry and annoyed, but feeling the way skye sylus was moving his thick finger in and out of your slick heat was making your mind go hazy. instead of using your words, you allow your nails to grip at his biceps before raking down his skin, earning a hiss from him.

"fuck, kitten, that hurt- but how about you punish me more and give my back those same claw marks?"

you hated how the sight of his smirk was enough to make your legs clench in response for him, feeling sylus remove his finger from your slick heat momentarily, now gripping at the waistband of his pants as unbuckled himself-

his crimson gaze was eclipsed by complete darkness now, his desire and need for you evident in the way he tore off his clothes, ensuring that he was utterly bare for you. your traitorous heart ends up racing in response to his nakedness, and you felt a powerful ache settle between your legs at the sight of sylus's godly form. recognizing the lust in your eyes causes him to smirk as he places his large hands against your clothes, now working on tearing off your own clothes until you were utterly bare for him.

hungry eyes raked through your form, and you watch as sylus licked his lips before laying back down against the bed. he spreads your legs wide open for him, giving your inner thighs a kiss before whispering against your skin, "let me show you the true depths of my devotion to you... let me make it up to you."

"sylus-"

you had only said his true name out loud, but it was enough to make sylus surge forward, burying his face within your slick walls. the sensation of his tongue drinking up the evidence of your honeyed arousal makes you fall back in bed, hands gripping at his soft hair. instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him, allowing sylus to take you to heaven when he kept devouring you like he was a man starved.

never had you felt such potent sensations of pleasure before, with sylus expertly eliciting moans and gasps of his name, allowing it to fall from your parted lips like a never-ending mantra. as he continued his ministrations on you, the more you felt a coil seem to tighten within your abdomen. "o-oh my god, s-sylus!"

you gasp when your back arches against the bed, with sylus keeping your hips still as you spilled yourself into his hot mouth. with a grunt of your name, sylus drinks in everything you had to offer. red hot pleasure courses through you, making you cry out to him as you tightened your grip against his hair.

"ngh... fuck... you taste s'fucking sweet." sylus manages to release his hair from your hands, crawling toward you as he spread your legs wide for him to settle between. drunk off of the sheer taste of you, sylus presses his lips against yours, purposely deepening the kiss, allowing you to taste yourself with his kiss alone.

distracting you with his kiss, you managed to remain relaxed for him when sylus suddenly pushes his cock into your entrance, the sudden intrusion making you toss your head back as you cling to sylus. a string of curses was heard coming from the man settled above you. when you felt your walls taking in every inch you had to offer (completely sheathing him), you lost all train of thought, allowing the man to piston his hips in and out of you.

"fuck...!" sylus grips at your hips, keeping it still as he begins to thrust his cock in and out of your slick walls at a breakneck pace. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echo throughout the room, making you cry out to him when you felt the moisture flowing out of you.

"o-oh...!" you gasp, wrapping your legs around sylus's naked waist, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you with each pound. by now, he was quite literally fucking you into his bed-

and you found yourself enjoying every minute of it.

from the way sylus seemed to harshly grip at your waist, you were certain that it would leave a bruise-

yet you didn't care, allowing this powerful man to bring you towards another release while you sloppily met his thrusts with your own-

the telltale sensation of his cock growing inside of you as he tightens, stilling his hips one last time before spilling thick ropes of his cum deep within you succeeds in making you cry out to him, your voice seeming to echo throughout the room along with sylus's growl of your name.

unable to help himself, sylus captures your lips once more, purposely swallowing your moans as he rode out both of your releases, his hips weakly pounding in and out of you, making sure that you had milked every last drop out of him before landing next to you on the bed.

your body was damp with sweat as a pleasant haze goes through you. not wishing to break your connection with sylus, you tentatively move closer to him, resting your head against his chest before pressing a kiss against it.

"y-you... did you want me... to forget that i'm mad at you by fucking my brains out?" you weakly manage to tease him, earning a rich chuckle from him.

"depends... is it working?" he leans down to press a kiss against your hair, making you smile when you cheekily tell him,

"how about you find out... when we go a few more rounds...?"

sylus needed no further urging from you, returning back to you as he placed a desperate kiss against your lips...

[ epilogue ]

your father was pacing around his office, filled with anxiety at being caught.

he prayed that you would forgive him-

that he could see you again, happy and whole despite your own pain.

truly, your father wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, to bring you back home all while telling you that he did this all in the name of love-

that losing your mother made him go crazy at the thought of losing you, too-

but a part of him still felt too guilty to do anything.

as he was caught up in his thoughts, the sound of a notification coming from his phone startles him, making him look down at his phone to see a message from sylus himself.

eager to know what it says, he opens up the text and reads through it, eyes filled with relief as the older man breaks out into a grin. in the text was what looked like a screenshot of a bank account wiring back 110 million dollars along with a single text:

i finally understand. she's worth all the money. with this payment, i promise to protect her for the rest of my life - s.q.

end notes: omg i can't believe i'm gonna lose sleep over this story, but lmaoo, it's my dream story, and i need to finish writing this. spy!sylus, how i need you so 😭🙌🏻 this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes tomorrow, it's bedtime for me!! also, for the reader's dad using an alias to contact sy, i wanted to do something so you readers could use any name that suits you outside of the alias! making it a true insert hhhhhhhh 🥹 this was a tough story to write though, but i hope you readers enjoyed it all the same!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds smut #writings 📖

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mmogurl · 21 days ago

Text

Last to Fall Chapter 1 - My Demons

18+ | 10k | Aegon II Targaryen X Female Maid / Dragonseed Reader | miserable, alcoholic, often dissociative, needs comfort Aegon | virgin reader, maiden, emotional abuse, first time sex, P in V, smut, wholesome, fluff, this whole thing is actually kind of sweet compared to what I usually write.

This fic is heavily inspired by the infamous 'Nothing' scene with Aegon and Alicent. Her cold words and the way she lashes out really bothered me and I felt a strong need to stand up for him, protect, and console him. So that's really what this whole fic is about. Enjoy! Also went with a lot of musical vibing for this story. I started off listening to Collective Soul's Heavy, because I imagine it as Aegon's state of mind in the opening scene towards everyone and everything happening. And by the end we transition into Starset's Last to Fall - and the title of the fic. I know, I'm a sappy mf.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 On AO3

Retroactive update 10/29/24: I've also decided that I'm going to try my best to fit every chapter to a Starset song because the whole Series is based off the title of one (Last to Fall) which was originally going to be a oneshot and got extended. I'm enjoying the challenge of finding one that suits each theme/ story! They're not all going to be perfectly aligned, but I'll try my best. This one is Starset - My Demons adding onto the two songs I already referenced here - but this one just felt so perfect!

Complicate this world you wrapped for me I'm acquainted with your suffering

All your weight it falls on me It brings me down All your weight it falls on me It falls on me

~Collective Soul - Heavy

—You

You have worked in the castle for as long as you can remember, always hearing the whisperings of the chamberlain, the laundress, and any other keep staff prone to gossip, that you were the late king’s bastard. There were always underhanded comments of jealousy uttered in your direction, like ‘It must be nice to have a king’s blood runnin’ through yer veins... To have yer needs met for life.’ In truth, you were worried that the Queen Dowager might see fit to dispose of you now that her husband had passed.

So far, it seems your fair looks, expertise, and agreeable demeanor has secured your position, at least for the time being, but you are not so naive as to think that will last forever.

You tended to King Viserys for six summers, and with his death you’ve been reassigned to serve the new Protector of the Realm, Aegon II Targaryen. You are mildly concerned about this development considering the rumors you’ve heard about the young prince over the years. Drinking and philandering to excess, he was rumored to be a true hedonist, only taking satisfaction when drowning himself in pleasure. It is for this very reason, that you’re surprised by your observations of your new lord within the first weeks of your employ as his chambermaid and general attendant.

You find he spends a lot of time sitting in near darkness with barely a couple candles lit in his room at night, kept company only by a carafe of wine and wearing a disassociated look on his face that could be taken for misery if it didn’t appear so apathetic in nature. It was as though he were actively trying to force himself into a mold that he would never fit into. This became even more apparent as you witnessed more of his interactions with his family, especially his mother and grand-sire. It seemed they were constantly trying to orchestrate the ruling of the Seven Kingdoms, nitpicking at every little decision Aegon made, pulling his strings just like a puppet.

You had listened from the sidelines of the Great Hall as the Hand second-guessed the king’s rulings. Even when the Aegon tried to embrace his seat upon the Iron Throne, he was made impotent by those not fit to govern. You could do nothing but stand by helplessly in saddened silence when he suffered the loss of his eldest son to assassins, while Otto Hightower forced him to parade young Jaehaerys’ corpse to the public along with his grief-stricken sister-wife, Helaena.

Day by day, your heart was beginning to ache for the emptiness you saw growing behind his amethyst eyes. And yet still he tried on most days to put a positive foot forward, even if by nightfall he usually turned back to engulfing his sorrows in drink. You couldn’t even blame him really given the complete lack of moral and emotional support the king had to endure.

This feeling of compassion built within you, until one day it peaked to a head as you made your way to Aegon’s chambers with fresh linens in hand, ready to fulfill your afternoon chores. You passed several Kingsguard as you made your way down the hall and paused outside the king’s rooms as you heard voices coming from within. The two white cloaks standing watch at the open threshold glanced at you in warning, so you simply waited with folded bedsheets in hand for the opportunity to complete your duties.

You knew you should not listen, but it was hard to ignore the distressed voice of the king from within, met by the indifferent attitude of the Queen Dowager. Oh no, you think to yourself sympathetically, she is at it again. It really did seem that tearing Aegon down piece by piece was not only a habit for his mother, but something she relished in.

“Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom,” Alicent’s voice echoed out against the vaulted ceiling of the room, her voice patronizing and condescending. “Those men at your council table earned their seats. It was my hope that once enthroned you would honor the burden of your new duties, be silent, and strive to learn from the more studied minds around you. In the hope that you might be half the king your father was…”

You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat at hearing such baleful words. The king was not responding, and you could just imagine the pained look of agony that Aegon was sure to be wearing under the constant criticisms he faced as of late.

“Tread carefully,” you heard him say, barely carrying enough volume to hear from where you stood. You found yourself holding back a smile at that, happy that he was standing up to her for once. But, that only incensed the Queen Dowager more, her thirst to harm not yet quenched.

“Or what?” she says with venom coating her tongue. “You’ll hang me, as you did your rat catchers? Or have me banished as you did your Hand? I ruled in your father’s absence throughout his long illness, and Otto Hightower was as cunning a statesman as ever lived. You should humbly be seeking our opinions and counsel. You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.”

You shook your head, unsure how any mother could ever speak to her child in such a manner, let alone to the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it bothered you so because you had never known the tenderness of a mother’s love, but had spent many a daydream imagining what it might be like. With your idealistic and sometimes naive mind, you wanted to think that there was more love out there in the world than this, especially within the royal family. You wanted better for the young king you had grown to feel so protective of in such a short amount of time.

Aegon’s next words break your train of thought, “Wha-“ he started with an exasperated tone, “What would you have me do, Mother?”

“Do simply what is needed of you,” she replied and the frosty chill of her cold voice was evident even from the corridor. “Nothing.”

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes and try your best to ignore them. It was important as part of the castle staff to never appear to be listening, to always remain professional, but it wasn’t always possible when one was witness to such cruelty.

Quickly, you wipe the errant tears away as the Queen Dowager exits her son’s apartment, walking swiftly with a scowl on her face. With the king now alone in his chambers, you nod to the guards and head inside, pausing to close the doors behind you lest Aegon had wont of some privacy.

As you turned to face the room, the king sat off to the side of his table, leaning against the back of a chair, his head resting upon his hands in defeat. He did not stir as you entered and so you cleared your throat to let yourself be known. Aegon still made no move and so this time you spoke up.

“Your Grace, might I change the linens? Or should I come back later?” you ask, your voice hesitant, but filled with understanding.

He finally lifts his head, glancing at you for a moment before returning his attention to the nearly empty decanter of wine on the table.

“Fetch me some more wine instead,” he demands sullenly, and to this you nod and hurry off to fulfill his request. After what you’d heard him endure, you’d do just about anything to cheer him up now.

With a speed you did not think yourself capable, you retrieved, not just one, but two pitchers of strongwine for the king and prepared a small platter of snacks for him as well, consisting of cheese, crackers, figs, and grapes. You hoped he’d be pleased with your thoughtfulness, and sure enough, he did perk up a little at the sight of the tray you presented on the table before him.

Aegon got to his feet, walking around the chair he’d been leaning against and sitting in it instead. You filled his chalice and placed it before him, wearing an exaggerated smile upon your face, anything to lighten the onerous mood. The king surprises you when he actually notices, his composure faltering as he looks upon your benevolent countenance.

“Did you hear all of that then?” he asks, his jaw clenching slightly as he peers down at the crimson fluid within the cup before him.

“It is not my business, Your Grace,” you answer softly, not wanting to sound cold, but knowing it is not your place to comment on such things. “But, if I can do anything, or get anything more for you. Please just ask.”

“I never wanted to be be king, you know,” Aegon says abruptly, picking up the chalice and swirling the wine around inside it. “They hunted me down, forced me to be crowned… And yet, Mother tells me I do not deserve it, even though she has placed me upon the throne herself.”

You flounder with your words, uncertain of how to reply. Should you even say anything at all? Perhaps he just wants someone to listen who won’t respond with a scathing rebuke.

“She spoke of the rat catchers, bringing up the death of my eldest son as though it were nothing to me,” he continues without your input, staring into the contents of his chalice as though it might hold some insight. “She treats me as though I am nothing.”

He finally takes a long swig of the cup, emptying most of it in one gulp. Aegon sets it down on the table with a clatter of metal and wood, an almost despondent look on his face as he adds, “Perhaps I am nothing.”

“Your Grace, no! That is not true!” the words slip out, unable to hold back your feelings at his self-denigration. You immediately cover your mouth with startled surprise, knowing that you’ve overstepped.

Aegon halts, his shoulders tensing as his eyes drift up to you and his brow furls downwards in confusion. He regards you in earnest for what feels like the first time ever, his discerning gaze sweeping from your face, down to your skirts and back up again, sizing you up. “What would you know of it?”

You bite your lip anxiously, unsure of how to proceed, even though it seems by now that you’ve already gone past the point of returning to obscurity. Ultimately, you decide that if you’re going to lose your position within the Red Keep, that you’d prefer to let the king know how you feel first.

“I have seen how determined you are,” you say quietly, a lack of confidence in your voice as you address the king. “Even though it is obvious how much hardship you must abide.”

“I am the king. I do not abide anything,” he replies gruffly, but there’s no tooth in the words.

“Of course, Your Grace,” you reply as you cast your eyes downward, your posture stiffening as you stand more upright, waiting for the hammer of discipline to fall.

There is a pervasive silence that hangs heavy in the expansive chamber as you wait for the king to cast his verdict. Does he intend to overlook your impertinence or will he punish you severely?

You hear the trickle of liquid pouring and then the glass carafe clattering against the wood of the table. The sound of swallowing is audible, followed by Aegon’s lips smacking softly as he puts the chalice back down.

“Come here, girl,” he says suddenly in a low monotone.

You look up once more, hesitating; your eyes questioning as you try to understand his intentions, his expression inscrutable.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he reiterates, his tone a little more firm, yet without the sound of malicious intent. “Come here.”

You gulp and step gingerly towards Aegon, standing before him as he sits in the high-back chair. “Yes, Your Grace?” you ask with an uncertain look on your face.

The king startles you when he turns his chair to face you, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls you towards him in one fluid motion. Before you even realize what is happening, Aegon has his face buried against your stomach while his fingers dig into the fabric of your dress at the small of your back.

For a moment you stand there frozen in shock, your arms out as if in surrender, unsure of how to respond or interpret this intimate gesture. But then, you feel his shoulders shake quietly, and it's that movement that clues you in to the nature of the king's actions. He is crying, albeit in his own restrained way.

Slowly, you lower your hands down, one resting on his back as the other smooths his white locks back against his scalp. You can feel him melt into your affectionate touch, his entire body slumping forward even as he continues to whimper quietly into your apron.

“Shh,” you say softly, trying to comfort him in a way that feels somehow natural to you despite the gap in caste. “It will be alright.” You are not fully convinced that it will be, but the young king needs some reassurance and you know you are the only one likely to give it to him.

You have secretly longed for a moment such as this to occur for awhile now, wishing you had the opportunity to provide the king with some semblance of reprieve. When you served Viserys, he never seemed very troubled, and was almost willfully ignorant to the problems that plagued his family. Aegon on the other hand, was tormented not only by his mother, but by the pressure he put on himself to please everyone, which was an impossible feat.

To soothe Aegon now and hold him in your arms, felt like putting one of the many wrongs he’d endured right, even if it was only a small fraction of what the man was owed.

Your fingers rake through his wavy tresses and you feel a surge of raw emotion as you tend to the king’s needs in a way you never imagined you would. Soon, his shaky breaths and silent tears begin to cease, replaced by sniffles as you continue to soothe him in the way his mother should have been for all of these years. You can sense his reluctance to leave your embrace, but there’s also a shame weighing heavy in the air for confiding such weakness in a simple chambermaid.

He nuzzles his eyes against the fabric of your dress, wiping his tears on the brown cloth before he abruptly pulls away and clears his throat. Aegon avoids looking directly at you, embarrassment evident in his now red and puffy eyes. He lets out a heavy sigh and you’re left feeling quite dumbfounded as he turns back to his wine.

For a long moment there is a tense and overwhelming silence, the only sounds present in the room are the soft pouring of wine into Aegon’s chalice and the glass clinking as he sets the carafe down.

You stare at the side of his face, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the growing distance. It’s as if he’s punishing you for witnessing his vulnerability, desperate to maintain the barrier between king and servant. Despite his aversion, you can’t help but feel the significance of what you shared, the way he pulled you in and how good it felt to hold him close.

The quiet stretches on, Aegon now occupied with emptying his cup as if trying to fill the void with drink. He speaks up once more, his tone now devoid of any traces of the exposed emotion you just viewed.

"That will be all," his words are devoid of any warmth or familiarity. "I don't need anything more from you tonight." Aegon’s fingers tremble subtly as he brings his glass to his lips, betraying his cold facade.

“Your Grace,” you say in acceptance of his decision, bowing your head to show deference. You turn and glance at the linens still stacked on top of the king’s bed and fret for a moment that you will get in trouble for not fulfilling your duties and changing the sheets. “Should I change the bedsheets before I leave?”

Aegon doesn’t even turn to face you, his eyes fixed on his chalice. His expression is closed off, distant, as he responds with a simple grunt of confirmation.

“Yes, yes. Do whatever it is you usually do,” he mutters dismissively, his voice lacking any real feeling. He lifts his cup to his mouth once more, drowning himself in the bitter taste of the wine.

You nod with the typical words of respectful assent and begin making the bed as you always do, except this time it feels different. Today you flew so very close to the sun and felt your skin bask in its heat. The absence of that warmth now leaves you feeling chilly, an overwhelming nothing replacing the typical humdrum of your chores. You can feel his presence in the room like a beacon calling you to shore, but you dare not approach him again.

When you finish your task, you leave the king’s chambers without saying a word, closing the door behind you as silently as you can.

For the next few days, the typical royal indifference that Aegon shows you is substituted for complete and utter disregard. He at least showed you a degree of quiet appreciation before, but now it seems he’s going out of his way to make it known that you do not exist to him. Aegon always keeps his eyes turned from you and makes no acknowledgment of your proximity, giving the impression that you are little more than a ghost.

Gone is the care-free spirit that the king usually possesses, always trying to pretend that he is happier than he actually is, at least when you are around him. It seems that Aegon erects a wall of guarded apathy the moment he becomes aware of you, sometimes so severe that you can actually see him transition into a frown at your approach.

You find yourself slinking around quietly whenever you must occupy his room at the same time that he is present. The mornings are especially tense, when you must bring breakfast and fresh wash water for his basin. Sometimes, you feel his eyes on you when you’re preoccupied with adding wood to and stoking the fire, but you try your best to ignore it since you can’t make heads or tails of his behavior.

For the most part, you attempt to finish the majority of your duties once the king has left for the day and not before that point. You hope that in time, the king will forget about what transpired between the two of you, and that everything will revert back to how it was.

—Aegon

Aegon has made a concerted effort to maintain his frosty disposition towards you. It’s a constant battle between his heart, which secretly admires and yearns for you, and his head, which refuses to acknowledge the vulnerability he allowed you to witness. Even still, he can’t help but feel a slight pang of sadness whenever you try to slip in and out of his chambers undetected, nor can he control the surge of resentment when he feels that he might need you in any way.

The king simply doesn’t know what to make of the tangle of emotions that twist inside of him whenever he sees your face. It’s as if the memory of his shortcomings and your comforting embrace is a fresh wound that refuses to heal. He wants to shove you from his mind, but your image is permanently branded on the backs of his eyelids.

Even his nights have become restless, with no amount of drink or pleasure helping to ease his troubled heart. In fact, he’d already tried visiting one of his favorite brothels, dragging along his drunken friends for the chance to brag at how loud he could make the women scream. He was so distracted by thoughts of you that he couldn’t even stay hard and had to call it a night without release, defeated even by the the carefree abandon of a whore’s cunt.

The only thing that helps him drift off to sleep lately is recalling the moment he shared with you, and imagining how it might have gone differently if he had not pulled away from you. His hand enveloping his rigid cock, stroking it eagerly as he envisions what it would be like to reach under your skirts and feel the heat at the apex of your thighs. The resulting climax is strong, but it always leaves him feeling ashamed and guilty afterwards, as though he’s given into an urge worse than the crudest of debaucheries.

It’s becoming more and more obvious, that no matter how much he denies himself, he wants you in an unbearable way. He wants to reach out to you, wants to apologize and thank you for your soothing care. He wants those arms wrapped around him once again, that gentle hand running through his hair. He wants to confess all of his troubles to you. How he is tired of being treated like a child, of being scolded and slapped around by his mother, and never being taken seriously by his own small council. Aegon wants to hear the solutions you might propose to his growing list of problems, instead of relying on the wine that he drinks to excess more often as the days pass, an answer that he knows is mere avoidance.

And so, the king finds himself at a crossroad, facing a decision that can’t simply remain unsettled. He can either choose to embrace his feelings for you and allow himself the chance of experiencing the compassion he so badly craves, or he can continue to repress those feelings and bury them under the weight of his own self loathing and fear.

At the end of another long and monotonous day, he finds himself sitting at the end of his table in the very same chair where he had shared a moment of weakness with you. He sighs as he pours himself another cup of wine, the burgundy liquid not doing much to take the edge off tonight.

He shivers slightly as gooseflesh erupts over his pale skin. Glancing out the window, he can see that the skies are grayer than usual and that autumn is settling in over King’s Landing. Aegon begins to worry as he considers the already dwindling food supply and the civil war that is ravaging what little they have left. His grand-sire and mother both seem to be ignoring the constant plight of the commonfolk, but he’s spent enough time amongst them to know that revolt might loom on the horizon.

The large wooden doors to his chamber suddenly open and his attention is drawn from the window, snapped to the form now entering the room. It is you, his chambermaid, carrying a bundle of blankets. You stop dead in your tracks as you notice him sitting in the dwindling light of the gloaming hour.

“Sorry to disturb, Your Grace,” you offer sheepishly. “I didn’t know you had already retired for the day.”

Aegon turns his chair outwards, sitting sideways as he leans an elbow against the table and lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his favorite sweet Arbor red. He doesn’t acknowledge your apology, and instead regards you with a steadfast gaze as he tries to hide his conflicting feelings.

“What is it?” he asks, his tone tinged with disinterest.

“It’s supposed to be chilly tonight,” you answer with a soft voice. “I wanted to bring you some extra blankets and build the fire up so that you are comfortable.”

“Hm,” he grunts, taking another swig of his wine. He doesn’t respond more than that and simply watches as you begin to lay two massive quilts upon his bed, then approach the fireplace to add more wood and stoke the flames. Even now you were doing your best to take good care of him, doting on him as though he were your very own husband.

He can’t help but discreetly study the shape of your body as you kneel before the mantle, appreciating the way the firelight projects shadows over your kneeling figure. The flickering orange light bounces off your face and he can’t help but notice the softness of your features, the curve of your cheek and lips. As you rise back to your feet and turn to face him, he’s finally made his decision.

Perhaps it is time to lay these fears to rest.

He sighs softly, his shoulders slumping somewhat with the release of breath, as he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Sit,” his word is quiet, almost a whisper.

You look at him perplexed as though you did not hear him properly, an apprehension soon settling in as you hesitate to respond.

There is an air of determination in his eyes as he nods once more, encouraging you to sit. His voice now holds a trace of insistence as he shifts in his seat, sitting upright as he repeats himself. “I said sit.” Aegon points at the empty chair once more, his gesture sharper this time.

You oblige him swiftly at that, taking a seat in the ornately carved high-back chair, your legs are pressed together and your hands fidget awkwardly on your lap. Aegon reaches forward and grabs an empty chalice from the silver tray before him, pouring you a glass of wine.

“Here,” he says, his voice strangely calm in your presence now that he has finally given in to his wishes. He hands you the cup across the table, his fingers brushing against yours for just the briefest of moments. He relishes in the heat of your touch, no matter how fleeting, and offers a clumsy smile. “Have a drink with me.”

You take the chalice reluctantly, the anxiety of such taboo evident in your expression. Aegon knew it was unheard of for the staff to share a drink with members of the royal family, but it was also not typical for the king to be denied anything he desired either.

“T-thank you, Your Grace,” you offer appreciatively.

Aegon settles back into his chair, his posture becoming more relaxed as he spreads his legs. He takes comfort in the fact that no matter how much he has tried to avoid you, that you still humbly show him gratitude. That small act of polite civility has him convinced that what he is attempting will not end in rejection.

He raises his cup and toasts to you, a courtesy which seems so simple and yet holds so much significance when coming from a king. “To your service.” His eyes gleam in the fading light of day, bright with unspoken promise.

“I don’t even know what to say, Your Grace,” you squeak out in embarrassment, your face impossibly red as you direct your gaze away from him.

He can feel his confidence returning as he sees the flush of color bloom on your cheeks. It’s a sign that his attention is not entirely unwelcome, and that thought alone is enough to make his heart beat steadily in his chest.

Aegon leans forward, trying to capture your attention once more, his eyes pleading for you to look at him again. After so much time evading this very situation, he now feels hungry for it.

“You don’t have to say anything at all,” he reassures you, his tone softened but with a hint of authority as he motions for you to drink your wine.

Without wavering, you grasp the heavy brass chalice in your hands and with courage etched in your features, take a long draught of the Arbor red.

As you drink, Aegon raises an eyebrow in mild surprse, watching as you take a rather ambitious swig of strongwine. He finds he’s actually impressed with your ability, and his expression soon transforms into a smirk of amusement.

He takes a sip from his own chalice before setting it back down on the table. “You drink deeper than many of my knights, I can tell you that,” he jests with a good-humored ease, testing the boundaries of this fledgling dynamic.

Your cheeks blush once more although this time it is likely due to the wine as well as your timidity. “This is much better than the swill the staff typically has access to,” you offer almost apologetically, as though it were not proper for you to imbibe in your spare time.

The admission has the corners of his mouth curling into a grin once more, and a breathy laugh escapes his lips. It’s clear now that the two of you are finally making progress, the barrier of propriety quickly falling away as it typically did with drink.

“So you mean to say you enjoy good wine, yes?” he teases lightly, tapping his fingertips against the edge of his cup, his gaze focused on you, eager to see your reaction.

“I am enjoying it, yes,” you say with bright eyes, your guilt beginning to fade away with each sip of sweet wine you take.

Aegon can sense the increased ease in your demeanor, and is delighted by the sight of it. He knows that the alcohol has broken through the tension that’s been building between the two of you for days now and he plans to take full advantage of it, feeling even bolder in his pursuit of you.

“Good,” he replies gladly, feeling content with the newfound freedom he’s allowed himself. “Then have some more,” Aegon adds, his tone light and playful as he pushes the decanter of wine closer to you, encouraging you to fill your own cup. He can feel a pleasant buzzing in his head from the strongwine, and can tell that you aren’t far behind him.

“Is Your Grace trying to get me drunk?” you ask, a surprising riposte that he didn’t expect from you.

The question has Aegon laughing aloud, the sound hearty and full of mirth. He leans closer, sliding his elbow further along the table as he offers you a grin. That little spark of humor you show only heightens his own sense of urgency to be in your arms once more.

The king rests his chin on his fist, and raises a brow at you with a mischievous grin. “And what if I was?” he replies playfully.

“Then I’d have to ask to what aim?” you say holding onto your cup, your finger tracing the circular rim of it.

Aegon’s gaze is drawn to your fingers, following the movement as his pulse quickens. He can hear your question, but it fails to register fully as he’s momentarily lost in a daydream of those same fingers running across his skin. His mouth goes dry and his skin feels hot. He finds he must take another large draught of wine to calm the sudden surge of longing that courses through him.

“Well,” he says, his tone feigning seriousness. “Perhaps I intend to get you drunk so I might take advantage of you.”

Aegon is surprised when you chuckle in response to his daring assertion, having expected more of a demure reaction instead. “You would not have to ply me with wine for that,” you admit, lowering your head slightly as though realizing how direct your words had been a little too late.

His eyes go temporarily wide as he registers your brazen honesty, wondering if he’d even heard you correctly. “Do you jest with your king, girl?” he asks incredulously.

“No,” she offers adamantly, with all the defiance of a loyal hound. “I’m afraid I’d be quite willing.”

“Is that so?” Aegon says more for his own confirmation than to communicate it, his eyebrow raising with dubious intent.

His stiffening cock was becoming uncomfortable in his taut breeches and he couldn’t help but consider the irony that such an innocent encounter had taken on an incredibly sexual nature. The comfort you had offered him becoming like an intoxicating fuel to his loins, making you far more attractive than any other woman could ever possibly be in his eyes.

“And what would you be willing to do in order to satisfy your king?” he prods further, feeling confident that he has the upper hand now. His desire to claim everything you have to offer now undeniable.

“I-I,” you begin to stutter nervously, clearly not expecting such a blunt response from him. “What is it you wish of me?”

Aegon let’s out a sharp huff of delight at the question you pose. To his great joy it seems you truly don’t realize the effect you have over him right now. He stands from his chair, sending it backwards with the backs of his thighs. His legs then carry him around the corner of the table until he’s towering above you, looking down upon your trembling form with a burning hunger.

“The real question is.. What don’t I desire of you?” he poses the question with a lurid tone as he thumbs the neckline of your bodice. “I believe you’ll find me quite insatiable in my needs.”

You’re frozen in his sights, appraising him with frightened doe-eyes, but there is no mistaking the undercurrent of lust also hidden right below the surface. Likely, the only true trepidation you have is the thought of performing such acts out of wedlock, but it seems obvious to Aegon at least, that you should have no concerns when offering your virtue up to a king. And given the poorly state of mind he’s been in as of late and desperate weakness he has for you, it’s possible you might even be assisting in the betterment of the realms.

“You’re speechless,” he hums softly, running the back of his knuckles over your bare collarbone. “Don’t worry, I will do the talking,” he says with a smirk, delighted to hear that he sounds every bit the authoritative ruler he should. “Take my hands,” he commands softly, reaching down as he grasps you and encourages you to rise from your chair.

When you obligingly follow his orders and rise before him, Aegon then guides you, leading you towards the bed. He stops once the backs of your knees hit the wooden frame, which is now padded by many layers of newly laid quilts, and turns you away from him. His hands carefully unfasten your apron, tossing it over the footboard before he starts to work at untying the laces of your dress. He loosens them swiftly until your bodice hangs slack.

He’s very well practiced in the art of removing a woman’s clothing, whether they be a whore, a noblewoman, or even a servant as is your case. Still, he holds a certain fondness for you, a consideration that he does not offer readily to most of his conquests. You have given him something so valuable, a treasure that no other has even thought to bestow upon him, and he means to reward you well for it.

Aegon finally removes your dress, pulling it over your head and placing it on top of the apron. All that remains now is a long sleeved undershirt, a slightly more drab version of the sort all women wore under their dresses. He’d like to rip it from your body, but you’ve stirred up such tenderness within his empty heart that he is loathe to treat you in such a way.

Instead, he turns you to face him once more and takes a step back to regard you. “You truly are beautiful,” he states with a sort of quiet awe. He had never really noticed you before and he most definitely should have. What with your cornsilk blond hair and bright blue eyes. Was he really so oblivious to the people and the world around him that he couldn’t even notice such a stunning, caring maiden working directly under his nose? Had he always been avoiding any state of mental clarity and missed so much in the process of hiding from himself?

You look at him nervously, your body antsy as you shift uneasily, precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

“Sit,” he tells you in a hushed tone, not quite wanting to sound as bossy as he does, but trying to relieve you of your discomfort. He takes another step back once you have complied, his gaze now roaming your body, taking in the sight of you, or at least what he can see in that loose potato sack of a frock you’re wearing. Aegon can definitely make out some of your feminine curves though, the slope of your shoulder incredibly pleasing as is the way your breasts protrude noticeably through the fabric, and so too do your wide hips.

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes taking their time to appreciate the woman before him. He can’t help but ponder in this moment, how he’s never felt this way before, a lust that isn’t just physical in nature, but somehow more genuine. Aegon is no stranger to carnal pleasures and strongly desires to claim you in every way possible. But there is something more present in his heart as well, the wish to hold you close and protect you from the entire world, and to in turn be sheltered by you from the chaos of the Iron Throne.

Aegon decides then that he wants your first time together to be gentle, just as it was when you first came together. He closes the distance between the two of you and reaches out with both hands, grabbing softly on either side of your shoulders. Your soft, supple flesh gives pleasingly beneath his fingers as he guides you to lay down on top of the blankets. As you scoot backwards across the width of the bed, he can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction that you were finally in his bed and no longer a fantasy inside his mind.

Once you’ve nestled into the plushness beneath you, he steps back again, his fingers making quick work of removing his woolen doublet. A flush of excitement blooms across his alabaster skin as he makes a show of the action, enjoying the way you watch him with such focused anticipation. He casts the garment to the floor, now removing his boots as swiftly as he can.

With his breeches already half undone and his chest exposed beneath a simple linen shirt, he is gifted with the sight of you lying in his bed in wait. The image is far more pleasant, far more intimate, than any other woman he has ever taken to bed. Your warmth radiates outward like a blazing fire and by now he is desperate to feel your heat directly. He practically rips his undershirt off, flinging it sideways across the covers.

Aegon makes his way back to you, lifting one knee up onto the mattress and crawling over the entire length of your body until he is face to face with you. His hand cradles your jaw tenderly, caressing up and down until his fingers slip up into your long, flowing tresses.

His intense, violet eyes fix upon yours, looking for any hesitation, but he sees none. It was as though you had been given to him as a gift from the gods, you who always gave and never took from him. There is a vulnerability in his expression that is rarely visible, replacing his usual display of smugness.

He maneuvers his breeches down without much effort, kicking them off once they’re low enough. Now fully settled into the valley of your spread legs, Aegon then grips the hem of your shift, lifting it up your thighs until he feels your body tense. He glances up at you and sees a pang of worry present that is perfectly normal, especially for a maiden.

The king asks the question he’s sure he already knows the answer to. “Have you done this before?”

You shake your head no as a blush of pink covers your cheeks and you bite your lip with pent up longing. Even with your inexperience and worry, he can tell how eager you are regardless. Much like he had been warring with his own thoughts about pursuing more with his chambermaid, you seem torn between your fears and your desires as well.

Aegon smiles sincerely, brushing his thumb gently along your lower lip, before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss. It was a bit of a selfish wish of his that you were untainted by any other man, and a part of him was happy to hear that you were indeed a virgin. It made him revel in delight; knowing you were his alone, that he’d be your first and your last if he had any say in it.

“Relax,” he whispered parting from your lips. “I’ll go slowly.” Aegon gazes at you again, wondering if this is perhaps too much for you, too soon. “That is if you still wish to.”

A look of panic crosses your face, as though you’re worried he might stop. “N-No! I still want to!” you affirm urgently. Your hands wrap around his back, pulling him closer to you, seemingly unwilling to let him go.

The king can barely contain his elation as he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling slightly at your eagerness. His hand slips beneath your undershirt and he slowly strokes the soft skin of your stomach, his fingers grazing over the warm plains of your flesh. Aegon’s breath hitches as he travels higher up your abdomen, finding the pliant curve of your breast.

You moan softly beneath his greedy touch, your body writhing with fervor, and your hips rising impatiently to meet him. Any question he had that you might not be fully keen about this joining was now all but diffused by your enthusiasm.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he teases playfully, feeling a sense of satisfaction at how responsive you are to his touch. He gives your breast a firm squeeze, then teases over the sensitive areola before cupping the whole mound again. His cock throbs painfully against the mattress, still bound by his smallclothes and yearning to sink into your heat.

His pulse pounds with expectation, finally feeling a sense of relief from the pent up desire he’s held for you all of this time. Aegon removes his hand from under your shift, propping himself up on the bed as he reaches down to unlace his braie. His hand brushes against your core in the process and he shivers at the feel of how wet you already are for him.

With his stiff length finally freed, he ventures a finger along your folds, growling at the silky slickness of your center. “Gods,” he utters with a groan. His cock twitches with need as he tests the tightness of your cunny, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he imagines thrusting into you with his thick member instead of his digit.

“Are you ready for me, girl?” he asks eagerly, the question a soft inquiry as well as a warning of the impending pain his intrusion is likely to cause. At this point, he feels more like a lovesick boy than the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, his suspense heavy as he drapes your leg around his his hip, opening you more to him. He positions his head at your entrance and presses himself closer to you.

You nod, never taking your eyes off of him as you wrap your hands around his back. Aegon rests his weight on his elbows, covering you completely as he kisses you with tenderness. He tries to express everything he feels for you with actions instead of words, his lips hungrily devouring yours with passion. Without breaking the kiss, he begins to ease into you slowly, immediately feeling the resistance of your still in tact virtue.

His arms slide down, gripping your hips on each side tightly as his chest presses into yours. You let out a whimper into his mouth as he breaches your depths, your thighs clenching against his body at the sharp pain of his invasion. It doesn’t take long for you to relax again, your walls suddenly more welcoming as the sting subsides.

Aegon parts from your lips, pulling back slightly so he can look down at you. A smirk forms on his face as he sees your lurid expression and he begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. His hands slide down to your thighs, spreading them further apart as he thrusts himself deeper inside you. He groans with overwhelming pleasure at the feel of you, his head falling forward as he picks up the pace.

He kisses you again, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues to move inside of you. His tongue dances with yours as he begins to lose control, his hips snapping against you with intensity. Aegon can feel his release approaching quickly, unable to hold back for much longer, he tries to hasten you along to satisfaction. His hand slides up your shift once more, squeezing your breast and tweaking your delicate nipple until it pebbles between his fingers.

You squirm under him, incapable of holding still as he drives into you with increased enthusiasm. The king grinds his hips into you relentlessly, grimacing at the way your walls tighten around his cock like a vice. Aegon’s grip on your tit becomes harder, flipping between gripping and tweaking your sensitive nipple. His lips withdraw abruptly, his mouth searching out your other breast and nipping it through your undershirt.

He grins against the cloth as you cry out loudly, your body rigid as your climax rolls over you and soon he can feel it wash over his length as well. But, he can’t take it anymore, not how tight you are or how creamy your release feels on his tender cockhead. It’s all too much and within a moment he is gripping hard to your flesh and burying himself deep within you, his spend erupting in spurts from his pulsing member.

“Fuuuccck,” he growls out, his hands finding their way beneath your back and pulling you towards him securely, trying to get even closer if that was at all possible.

You pant below him, trying to catch your breath as little spasms continue to twitch throughout your back and your thighs tremble against his hips. A warm, blissful calm settles over him as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply of your scent. He feels pleasantly dizzy, his heartbeat finally slowing as the haze of lust subsides.

Aegon sighs into your ear, the tone content and relaxed. “That was incredible,” he murmured softly, his voice low as he gently runs his hand along the side of your cheek.

“It was,” is all you can manage to say, your breath still a bit ragged as you try to come down from the high.

Your hand finds its way into his white hair again, brushing up against the nape of his neck and causing him to shiver. He’s once again reminded of the shared encounter that started all of this and he’s overcome with a fondness that makes his chest ache.

Aegon feels closer to you in every possible way now and isn’t keen on the idea of parting from you, but he can feel his cock softening and the mess beginning to pool on the sheets. So he slowly pulls out of you, collapsing onto the bed at your side. He grabs one of his stray garments without looking, probably his smallclothes or maybe his shirt, and cleans up his seed from you first and then himself.

He adjusts towards the head of the bed, resting on his side against the pillows and reaching out for you to join him as he scuttles under the covers. “Come here,” he says softly, pained by the loss of her warmth.

As you get up and crawl towards him, he scoops you up into his arms. Aegon holds you close, his chin resting against the top of your head as he wraps the quilts around your form and presses himself tighter against your back. The king can no longer deny the depth and the power of his feelings for you as you cuddle in his arms. There’s a sense of deep security and comfort welling up within him, but any words seem inadequate in this moment.

Aegon kisses your temple, the doting gesture unlike anything he’s bestowed upon a lover before. “I think I’m going to sleep quite well tonight,” he muses into your hair, still cradling you in his arms.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to stay with you? In your chambers?” you ask quietly with seemingly no clue how ridiculous he thinks you sound for asking such a thing.

His mouth twitches into a small smile and he lifts his chin to press another kiss into your hair.

“Of course. I’m the king. I can do whatever I want,” he quips playfully, his voice sounding drowsy and relaxed as he settles into the plushness of the bed. “Now, come. Get your rest. You’re going to need it.” There is a gentle warning present in his tone that you do not seem to catch, that he intends to have more of you in the morning.

You nod, twisting your back towards the mattress until you’re facing him. The expression you give him is enough to make his heart melt, those big, blue eyes like deep pools filled with bottomless love and devotion. You wrap your hand behind his neck and pull him close for a kiss, a request he’s more than happy to oblige.

Your mouth is sweet and hot against his and he can’t help but to lick the line of your lower lip before parting from you. Aegon settles you back into place, his chest enveloping your smaller frame as he holds you possessively. He feels such solace in the close proximity of your body, his limbs toasty warm as he falls into a deep state of relaxation. He’s not even aware of when the moment he falls asleep, it happens so quickly.

—Aegon

When the first light of day streams through the window, Aegon finds his eyes drifting open and then closing again, not sure of what time it is, but too comfortable to want to move. His back feels incredibly warm with the slight dampness of sweat and he opens his lids once more to see your arm wrapped over his chest. He can feel your hot breath at his neck now that he’s paying attention fully and your leg slotted between his.

Aegon’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, basking in the near domestic feel of waking up like this with someone he actually cares for. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours as he rests his own arm on top of yours.

He tries to settle into his pillow once more, nuzzling his backside into you further and bending his knees more deeply. The peace is short lived though as the doors to his chamber fling open and he hears the startled gasp of a woman. It couldn’t be just any woman, like perhaps another maid come to clean his room in place of the one that never showed up for work. No, it had to be his mother, of all the people he did not wish to see this morning.

The king whips his head over his shoulder and squints in the direction of the door. His mother stands there with a hand over her mouth, frozen in horrified disbelief as though she’d just seen a ghost. Aegon grits his teeth, sitting up with a jolt, forced to realize just how compromising this situation must look with the way he was tangled in bed naked with you.

“No, no, no, no, no, Aegon!!” she practically screams at him and the sound jars you from your slumber. He wishes you could have stayed asleep, to have escaped the madness of his family for just a little longer.

Alicent picks up her skirts so she can walk swiftly around the bed and to his side, standing there with a judgmental sneer. “This is just like Diana, isn’t it!?” she cries hysterically. “Isn’t it!?” his mother prods him further.

Aegon looks back, catching your shifting uneasiness from his peripheral vision, then turns to his mother again, suddenly feeling very protective of you. You are innocent in all of this and should be afforded the ability to wake up from your first time making love in some semblance of calm, not to one of his mother’s outbursts. And of course the first thought she would have of him was that he had raped yet another servant girl. His mother was blissfully ignorant of everything he had done as a young man, except for the acts she felt the need to berate him for, even though she had never been around to offer any kind of proper guidance.

He lets out a groan of exasperation, running his fingers through his mussed hair and tries to think of an answer that might satisfy his fuming mother, but he knows this is a lost cause.

“No,” he denies, shaking his head as he avoids eye contact with her. There is no conviction in his tone, but it’s not like she would ever believe a thing he said on the matter.

“So it was consensual then?” the Dowager Queen asks glaring past Aegon and looking straight at you.

He glances to his side and sees you nod, but interrupts before you can say anything more. “You do not have to explain yourself to her,” he says in a much softer voice, trying to shield you from his mother.

“So, she’s just another one of your tramps then!” Alicent hisses with disgust. “Is it so hard for you to keep your hands off the staff? Can’t be bothered to go into the city anymore, you need to make sure you find your pleasure within the walls of the Red Keep?” Her words are vitriolic and hateful without any attempt to understand the situation.

“I should have gotten rid of your father’s little bastard when I had the chance. I should have known better that she would be too pretty for you to resist, but I was assured that the girl’s skills were tantamount to any risk,” she continued on her tirade, barking out every spiteful dagger she could think of.

“What of your wife!? How can you carry on like this!? Oblivious to the people you hurt!?” the Queen Dowager prattled on, not waiting for an answer, but seemingly wanting to preach her conclusions endlessly.

“You know Helaena’s fallen deep into sadness ever since Jaehaerys died. Ever since you forced her to endure that disgusting funeral procession through the streets of the city.. And it’s not like we ever had a deep connection even before that, Mother.” Aegon’s voice was bitter, resentful. He was sick and tired of this farce of familial love when she barely ever showed him any hint of it.

He’s incredibly shocked when he hears you speak up, your voice quiet, but accusing, even defensive, “You’re one to talk, Queen Dowager. You hurt Aegon more than any other.”

“How dare you! You insolent wretch!” his mother didn’t hesitate to bite back, her acrimony potent in the air. “You can consider your employ here ended. Gather your belongings and leave!” she looked at you impatiently, as though expecting you to stand immediately and go. “Now!” she snarled, her nose crinkled with anger.

“No,” the king interceded on your behalf, stilling you with his hand on your hip. “You will not go anywhere.”

“She absolutely will go! This is not acceptable behavior for any chambermaid in the employ of the royal family!” Alicent was insistent, with no sign of backing down, but Aegon had enough of this contest of wills.

“Mother!” he bellowed at her furiously, finally snapping back at her with conviction. “I am the king and you will obey me!”

That finally got her attention, for the first time in his entire life he saw a flash of fear in his mother’s eyes and it only emboldened him to continue.

“You will not do a thing to this girl. She is under my protection,” he added, his ruling absolute. “And if I find that you have touched her, hurt her in any way, then I will have you hung. Just like the rat catchers.”

Aegon’s lips curl upwards in smug satisfaction, finally realizing a fraction of the true power he held as sovereign of the realms. His mother did not respond, regarding him with silent malice, her glare ever testing the limits to see if he truly meant it. When she saw that he did, his mother backed down, her shoulder slumping slightly as she relented, but not before getting one last dig in.

“Very well, My King,” she mocked with false sincerity, giving him a sarcastic curtsy. “I will leave you to your dalliances. I should know better than to interrupt a man having his fun.” She left in a flurry of resentment, slamming the door behind her with a loud thud.

No matter how furious he was with his mother, she still remained his parent, the woman who gave him life, whom he loved and had once revered above all else. Even this victory he had over her felt hollow, and he realized that even when he won, he still lost in one way or another.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness. Aegon stroked gently at the side of your cheek, wanting to make you feel safe again after you’d been forced to tolerate the full brunt of his mother’s wrath. He found you to be more resilient than he’d ever expected, already sitting up and staring at him with a knowing look upon your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say softly and almost instantly he feels something within his chest fracture.

It might have been the facade he always wore cracking, how he always projected an image of indifferent merriment so none would know how truly miserable he was. It might even have been the very fact that you had suffered insults by associating with him and yet you were still concerned about his well being.

Aegon can feel tears welling in his eyes and when you spread your arms out towards him, he doesn’t hesitate to crash into you. He buries his face in your comforting bosom and finally allows himself to fall apart in your embrace without shame. It’s probably the safest and most accepted he’s ever felt in his entire life and he knows now that he won’t ever be able to exist without you.

As you rake your fingers through his silvery locks, his tears dwindle until he is left relaxed, sated by your validation that his life is not as easy as everyone might think it is. He listens to your heartbeat as his fingers dig firmly into your back, making sure you can never leave his side. It’s a mercy, that you don’t seem to mind how clingy and needy he is. If anything, you seem born to mend his wounds, a soothing balm to his troubled soul.

You lean back against the pillows and soon Aegon finds himself drifting asleep against you. As his aching eyes begin to close, he can’t help but hope that he never disappoints you. He’s so convinced that he is a failure from the constant disparagements he’s endured throughout his life, that he can’t even fully enjoy you without worrying that he isn’t worthy of you - that you might leave him.

As if reading his mind, your hand massages gently along his scalp, cradling his head closer to your breast. “Don’t worry,” you say reassuringly. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Aegon didn’t know how you could possibly promise him such a thing, but somehow hearing you say it aloud makes him actually want to believe it.

Read Chapter 2

And will you be bold Will you lose control? I could never desert you I could never let go If you fall in line And the zenith calls I'm standing waiting The last to fall

~Starset - Last to Fall

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missmarveledsblog · 27 days ago

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What best friends are for (Bucky Barnes x Reader ) 18+

SUMMARY : When john walker makes off handed remarks about the newest female avenger not taking into the account she is the female best friend of bucky , well it snaps something in the former assassin , when he goes to confess his feeling he catches reader in a situation of her own .

warnings : yes this bitch is a smut so if under 18 do not read . it's a bucky barnes smut that should be warning enough, goofy fluffy smutty fun

"STANK DID YOU EAT THE LAST OF THE POPTART " YN voice called through the compound .

"Ok first of stank really .... that was good but uncalled for second of all before you go blaming me remember point break is the pop tart addict in this household baby avenger " Tony grinned thinking he got away with it little did he know the evidence was all over his black sabbath t-shirt.

" For a genius mind stark you sure are dumb thor's been in new asgard for last 3 months and you've pop tart all over your stupid face and shirt " her foot tapped the floor increasingly annoyed. After her long as mission she just wanted to burrito herself in a blanket eat pop tarts and binge a series or two . Tony praying for a miracle and looking for an exit strategy when his miracle walked in with Steve and nat .

" hey Yn what's wrong " Nat being Nat making sure one Y/N was ok and two well any reason to slap start was welcome .

"Stink ate the last of my poptart " she pouted breaking not only nats heart but Tony miracle escape plan bucky opening his mouth and saving the day .

" come on малышка ( baby girl) . I hid some for you " bucky grinned as her face lit up . Ever since y/n came to the compound he swore life gotten a million times better , this woman who was sarcastic ball of sunshine . It also helped that she's most beautiful woman he's ever seen , spent most of his time making sure he could make that smile happen .

He never believed in love and first sight til she walked into meeting two years ago asking fury " aye nicky where can a girl get some good food around here " . The room went silent Tony being the first to break out laughing the rest following suit some agent paled at the words being so chill with one of the scariest men in the world in their eyes .

......

As now sat in a Burrito cocooned blanket , her eyes couldn't help stealing glances at the beautiful specimen she called a bestfriend the light of life itself and the supplier of a poptart habit that could rival the god of thunder himself .

" I've to tell you something buckshot it kinda of important .... you saved dipshits ass today I could be on the raft by now " he chuckled thinking it was her sense of humour when in fact it was a confession changed because she chickened out midway through , common problem she had around the man .

" yeah I just couldn't deal with the headlines imagine iron man dies due to poptart issue , fellow avenger charged " he tried to hold his laughter .

"Well well well who do we have here " her whole body cringed at the voice behind, there stood John walker America's wish version of Steve Rogers stood his eyes draping over her body , making her want to bathe in a volcano alone .

"Ah the poster child for Chad's everywhere is gracing us with his presence what do we owe the dishonour " y/n smiled so sweetly .

"Yn be nice he only here to collect something for fury " Sam quipped as he walked into the room .

" well buckshot , birdbrain I'm off to soak my troubles away enjoy wannabe cap " they watch her flip john the bird and skipped off not wanting to be in the room any longer making bucky want to pout at the loss of her company ... or at least he thought he wasn't but .....

" you got it bad my man I'd skip a girl like that she nothing but trouble, I could take her for you I'm sure I could handle her better since i am more this time " John stupid mouth began to move while Sam was texting nat to get John size for casket .

" A dame like her doesn't need a dipshit like you and son you couldn't handle her, she would kill you quicker than you could draw you a breath out of your measly body " he snarled as his body stiffened at thought of this man even trying to get her attention .

" FURYS BITCH MR STANK WOULD LIKE YOU TO COME TO THE LAB " .

"YN STOP HACKING F.R.I.D.A.Y BUT ALSO NICE ONE ON THE FURY'S BITCH " Tony voice echoed through the intercom .

"Fucking bitch , nevermind she's lost her chance " John snarled leaving Sam and bucky laughing til the cried .

"Language " .

" really steve " Sam laughing harder than he was before .

"It just slips out but I will admit Yn hacking F.r.i.d.a.y was hilarious I wish I was here to see John or Tony's face " steve couldn't hold the chuckle coming out . Bucky head moving in different direction, that direction was to her , for two years she was in his head non stop and if she wasn't in his head , the two were doing everything together and the countless night he thought of her under him didn't help either .

" I gotta go tell her " suddenly braved he ran to find her , his own thoughts not wanting to waste anymore time . He couldn't think straight knowing john walker or any man could try stake their claim .

As she lay in the tub overjoyed at latest achievement wishing she'd seen John stupid face falter when F.r.i.d.a.y called him furys bitch but also knowing she could get the footage later in the evening . Yet her mind kept wandering to her best friend , how he would cheer her up , make her days brighter and how he made her clenched your thighs . past the point of feeling guilty and becoming wetter as her mind thought about him fucking little pussy hard . nor she couldn't help the hand slipping down between her legs like it had a mind of it own , running it through her folds as thoughts about bucky thrusting in her pussy while a firm grasp lost in her hair , the sickening sound of skin slapping against each other .

"Oh fuck. Fuck yes just like that sarge " she whimpered circling now puffy Clit . moans drowning out the noise of the bedroom door opening as bucky made his way in .

He didn't want to stay but hearing those moans fuck it he felt like he died and went to heaven , angels singing just for him . His body betraying his mind as he opened the bathroom door the sight nearly killed him alone beautiful soaking wet body arched and sweet moans filling the room .

" yess just like that sarge fuck " those moans and sloshing water like a sweet melody to his ears . The sentence that stop her dead in your tracks a deep growl making her eyes flying open " FUCK doll you make a lot of pretty sound but I can make you scream them " . Before she could react bucky kissed as he stripped not wanting to waste a second more . It felt right, like it was normal for them ,something in it it that made sense . Moaning into the kiss she rose from the bath pulling back baring herself for her best friend .

" please bucky " she cried as her lips hit his again .

The clash of tongues and teeth the raw passion hitting both. Knowing the border between bestfriend's was so far away , would need to flight to reach it again . None of it mattered the feelings clear enough in the kiss alone knew this was real .

" please sarge I need you " sweet little kisses down his neck . There and then bucky knew he was never letting go .

" so needy my little baby doll " grinning as he took her nipple in his mouth wanting to hear those moans coming from her mouth like he was addicted to them , fuck he was addicted to her and he was finally getting his fill. Dreams becoming reality kissing down this body, one he dreamt of most nights to keep the nightmares at bay . Each touch giving him the clear sign he was one causing it. her body was his to have and he wasn't giving that up . The smell of her arousal taunting and teasing to send him almost primitively feral . It was sweetest smell that ever filled his nostrils . Jesus he knew it would be sweeter than anything he could or would ever taste , almost like the apple that tempted eve . Kissing soft plush thighs as he took in the vision of her bare pussy staring right at him . It was better than any dream or thought he could ever have .

" please James stop teasing me " .

"What do you want baby doll use your words " he wanted to hear those sweet lips tell him .

" I need to feel you ... touch me, fuck me please sarge " .

That was it he was gone eye so dark with lust as he licked teasingly long stripes of your folds.

" Oh fuck baby doll you taste heavenly " his tongue exploring her folds like it was his sole mission , before his mouth greedily sucked her clit. too good she was sure she drowned in the tub and this was heaven . Crying out in pleasure as the man she was undisputedly in love with devoured her like it was his last meal and first meal all at one . the feeling of his tongue alone had the coil tighten with each movement but when he began to slip a finger in it felt like heaven on earth .

" oh fuck bucky i'm going to ... .hey what the fuck" she cried at the lost of contact , brows furrowed in such confusion .

" im sorry baby but when you cum i wanna feel you on my cock " he chuckled at her desperate whines ." you ready doll i need your words " he beautiful ocean filled eyes stared into her soul and telling him with a little nod.

" please bucky i want you to you to fuck me " pussy clenching at nothing desperately hoping for for some release . the pornagraphic moan that came out of her mouth bucky could of came at that alone, she really didn't understand it , how much of a hold on the man she had from the first time he ever saw her and yet she was gonna find out .

" fuck baby your pussy was made for me so tight you're mine baby no one can fuck this pussy i'm gonna make sure shes ruined for anyone else " he groaned each thrust getting harder and deeper .

" fuck bucky i'm your only yours , i've only ever been yours " she cried in pleasure never feeling something so perfect ,the coil tightening more and more, .

" cum for me baby be my good girl ".

the dirty filth coming from his mouth was enough to push over the edge walls clenching around his cock and screams of pleasure filling the room was enough to send bucky over edge his seed hitting her cervix and painting the walls of her cunt .

the room filled with panting both in their own pleasure filled states as bucky lay beside laying her on his chest so tenderly a completely different contrast in his movement before . he couldn't love her anymore than he did and yet it felt like it was .

" i meant what i said buckshot im yours i dont think i could be with anyone else " she said nuzzling herself further into his neck.

" and i'm yours baby doll i always was that day you walked into the meeting i was a goner " kissing her head then her lips . both hearts feeling complete of love as they both dosed off clung together in perfect bliss .

bonus :

"remind me to add sound proof to her room " a scarred tony walked out out the room .

" so furys bitch i see you were wrong it seems our soldier can indeed handle our little spit fire "nat smirked walking to her room .

" as much as i love that they proved him wrong i am traumatised and steve's been a tomato i think they broke him " sam wince joking as his super soldier friend was blushing beat red .

both following the widows lead and leaving a defeated walker to collect his ego and files wanting to leave as soon as possible.

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sttoru · 9 months ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER I: you finish your last lecture of the day and head to get dinner before returning to your dormitories. you stumble upon an injured figure on your way home, laying in a dimly lit alley. despite the fear in your heart, you decide to reach out towards the unknown man in need of help.

wc. 3.7k

tags. assassin!toji x female reader. sfw; fluff-ish, angst. reader's best friend oc appearance (yona). mentions of murder, blood, knives, anxiety. general warnings for all parts of the series: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's).

ten seconds. you shut down your laptop and close it. nine seconds. you put your laptop in your tote bag. eight seconds. you close your books and do the same. seven seconds. you put your coat on. six seconds. you check your phone for any messages.

five seconds. you’re thinking about what to eat once you arrive home. four seconds. you decide on a pack of noodles. three seconds. you realise that you’ve ran out of them. two seconds. you make up your mind to go to your local supermarket. one second. you stand up from your seat.

“..that’s all, students. have a nice day and i’ll see you at our next lecture.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you’re finally freed from the shackles of your statistics class. not like you’ve paid much attention to what your professor had been yapping about anyway. it was too boring. the daydreaming you did about your potential future boyfriend and all the cheesy romantic stuff you’d do together was all the more important.

“earth to my best friend,” your friend’s voice snaps you back into reality. you look to your side and find yourself apologising for not hearing her the first time. yona chuckles and waves her hand dismissively.

“i asked if you had any plans after the lecture,” she continues whilst scrolling through her phone. you take a peek at her screen and notice that she’s already looking up available restaurants in the area.

you’re grateful that she’s looking out for you in her own way, but you’ve already made up your mind. a pack of your favorite ramen noodles will fill you for tonight. you’re low on cash this month anyway. a fancy restaurant would have you surviving on water for the rest of the week.

“ah, i actually do. gotta go grocery shopping ‘n stuff,” you pout apologetically before buttoning up your coat. yona nods in understanding, knowing the struggles of being a college student.

“aww, all right. we’ll go next time then,” she replies with a smile.

you walk out of the building with your friend by your side, chatting about how boring the lecture was. of course, you also learn all about the recent gossip around campus. yona is practically your plug for that.

“did you hear about that one girl that allowed her boyfriend to stay with her in her dorm room for a whole month and then got snitched on by her roommate?” yona snickers, not caring if anyone around you could hear the gossip.

you raise an eyebrow in surprise. your university has strict rules about guests staying over in the dormitories. they can spend a day or two, but you’d have to sign them in. plus the resident assistants usually check the rooms for any unusual activity every other week.

to hear someone had gotten away for a whole month is quite a surprise.

“he could’ve stayed for longer if it wasn’t for the roommate snitching,” yona continues and rolls her eyes. she takes a quick snack from her bag and bites into it.

you shake your head and shrug, making sure you don’t trip and fall down the stairs whilst you’re talking, “guess the roommate got enough of the random man in their room. i mean—they pay for that room as well. not like the girl is the only one living there.”

yona nods and turns a right. you follow, your eyes scanning the busy hallways. some students are rushing between the crowd to catch their train and others are making their way to their next two hour lecture. those poor souls.

“mhm. i wouldn’t wanna live with a man i don’t know either,” yona eventually adds after swallowing the last bite of her snack, “let alone for a whole month.”

she throws the wrapper in a nearby garbage can—which is overly full already. talk about a ‘hygienic’ school.

“right,” you shiver as the thought gets put into your head. a random man living with you. . . sounds like a nightmare. you’ve heard enough stories about how dirty they can be. in both the physical and mental aspects.

after some walking - and getting annoyed by random people who block your way due to how slow they’re moving - you reach the exit of the building. yona stretches her arms and grabs her phone before turning to you.

“anyway, see you later, hun!” she enthusiastically gives you a hug. you return the affectionate gesture with a gentle smile, rubbing her back. you exchange your last words before both going your own ways.

music plays in your ears as you walk down the street. the wind blows against your face. it’s a cold day. you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to rain in a bit.

‘gotta be fast’, you think. you are not carrying an umbrella with you, so you’d have to hurry back with your groceries. your legs pick up their pace and pass all traffic as fast as they can.

it takes you quite a while to get to your destination. that’s the drawback of living in such a packed city like tokyo. there is no way to move, especially in the evening, when everyone is returning home.

you reach a crosswalk and wait for the light to turn blue. whilst you’re waiting next to a bunch of people, your eyes wander across the scenery. from the huge billboards to your right to the multiple cars to your left.

your gaze stops at one specific billboard. it’s playing some of the latest news. a recent incident had taken place just a few kilometres north from your university. three people had been found cruelly murdered in their apartments.

the definite cause of their deaths is still unknown. there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry, even when reports say that all three victims had been killed in the same way.

they speculate that the person involved must have been quite skilled—someone who’s done this multiple times before. there are absolutely zero traces of them left neither. the only reason they’re able to conclude that it is indeed a homicide, are the similar wounds left on the victims’ bodies.

another comment from the investigation team shows that there might be a survivor who’s escaped the cold blooded killer. that person is now considered missing.

the police are still thoroughly investigating the matter; that’s all you get to know before the news reporter moves on to the next subject.

you look down at your shoes. such scary stuff does make you afraid. you’re living on your own after all. you’d be less scared if you had a roommate, but you currently don’t.

some call you lucky for that since it’s a rare occurrence, yet you still wish you had someone living with you. that would make walking back home at night less stressful.

the increase of footsteps around you makes you realise that the light turned blue—a sign for you to cross the street. you eventually reach the other side. you tilt your head back, anxiously staring at the sky.

‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,’ you chant in your head. like the weather is going to listen to your desperate pleas. you rush inside of the supermarket.

you’ve been here often enough to know which products are in what aisle. you scurry over to the ramen, grabbing two packs. you get a few snacks along the way. unhealthy crap, that’s what you’re surviving on.

you stand in line at the cashier. you tap your shoe and bite your lip, your gaze fixated on the sky outside. you beg god to give you just a few more minutes. a few more minutes of drought.

you check your phone and go through your recent notifications to kill time. you swipe left on almost all of them—none being time sensitive or urgent anyway.

you greet the cashier politely once it’s your turn and allow him to scan your products for you. you await for him to announce your total before handing him your debit card. your eyes flicker over to the television hanging right behind the cashier’s head.

that gruesome news again. twice in a row. you shiver and try not to think about it. your mind is already overthinking the entire thing; what if you’re next?

well, that should be the least of your worries. you grab the plastic bag and walk to the exit of the supermarket, taking a deep breath. what you actually should be worried about is getting home dry.

“just my luck,” you mutter under your breath. your prayers are left unanswered as the first few drops of rain fall on your head. you kiss your teeth in annoyance.

you can’t help but silently agree as a couple walks past you, complaining about the sudden change of weather. you watch as a few more people rush past you with their bags above their head.

looking at the bright side of things, you won’t be the only one who’s running home with a bag as a shield against the rain and wind.

you take a deep breath again and mentally prepare yourself for the quick journey you’re going to make. you look to the left and then the right. when the coast is clear, you dash into the direction of your dormitory.

the rain is not letting up. you rush past a few people, those carrying umbrellas walking the slowest of them all. ‘damn them’, you think, ‘they have it the easiest right now.’

you turn a corner and nearly bump into a woman. you politely apologise before continuing your little run home. damp droplets run down your forehead. the rain is already starting to block your vision.

you tightly hug your tote bag to your chest with one arm. the last thing you want is for your laptop to get water damage. you’ve wasted tons of money on that thing to help you get through college.

you look down at the plastic bag with your food. that’ll survive. at least you think it will.

you squint. the rain is only getting worse and thus your blurry vision will as well. you try blinking the water away, but end up making it worse for yourself.

great.

your shoes are going through it. the deep puddles you’ve run through leave the material moist and you can already feel the droplets seep into your socks.

greaaat.

you turn a left. this narrow street is one you hate to be near when it’s dark. it’s a fast shortcut, but also a scary one since it’s isolated from the bustling main streets.

you think back to the cruel news you’ve heard earlier. scary images flash through your mind. your heart races a thousand miles per hour. you once again make up a doom scenario that could possibly happen.

what if the killer on the run is going after you next?

it doesn’t make sense, logically, but everything is possible now that your anxiety has overtaken your rational thoughts. you have no connections to those victims and yet you think you’re next.

you are next.

you whimper out of fear. it feels like the walls of this narrow street are closing up on you the faster you run. you look over your shoulder, excepting someone to be there—following you.

no one is there. you turn your head again and run as fast as you can. if only you had someone with you. someone who’d console you and tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

that’s the worst thing about the entire situation: nobody seems to pass by this backstreet. the only things that could possibly give you any sense of comfort are the random boxes and trash laying around.

time seems to slow down once you see the end of the backstreet. there’d actually be people once you make it through. you gulp and give yourself the motivation to get over there without scaring yourself any further.

the shadows looming over you due to the lack of lightning in this alleyway creep you out. the entire atmosphere is eerie—like something or someone can jump out of those shadows and grab you by the ankles. drag you into the darkness and finish you off there.

you want to return to those vibrant lights you know so bad. you do.

your eyes are so intensely focused on the end of the streets to the point that you forget your surroundings. it’s already too late to realise that you’re tripping over something. you process that you’ve lost your balance when you’re already mid-fall.

your body lands on the wet ground with a loud thud. luckily enough, your hands touched the concrete first, softening the fall for your head. you grunt and groan; it still hurt.

your ears pick up on the sound of running water. your head lays right next to a broken pipe that’s leaking water onto the pavement. cold droplets fall in a rushed rhythm.

“ah, fuck.”

your eyes widen. the sound of a man behind you sends a shiver down your spine. is that why you tripped? did he make you trip?

‘i’m so done,’ you conclude quietly. it’s probably the killer you’ve heard about—the one who’s coming for you next. just like you had thought.

you shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the strike that would finish you. like the wounds that had finished the other victims. though, it never comes. the stabbing doesn’t happen.

the only thing you can pick up on is heavy breathing. low grunts, barely audible. the sound of cloth ripping. a man mumbling under his breath.

you sit up on your knees and look over your shoulder. slowly, little by little.

the revealed sight is like a dream. or a nightmare. you don’t know which it is. perhaps a mixture of both.

all you know is that this is the last thing you expected to see. the last thing you expected to experience today. you feel your heart drop and you freeze in place.

you’ve seen your own fair share of blood, but this is simply too much. it’s like time has stopped for you. like time has stopped inside of this backstreet.

the world outside of this alleyway continues moving. the people keep walking, chatting and living their lives. the rain keeps falling. as if nothing is occurring at the moment.

as if there is no bloodied man on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with crimson stained hands clutching his abdomen. his wet bangs cover his eyes which makes his identity even more mysterious.

you probably tripped over his leg that’s stretched out in front of him; also bloody. you feel bad for not noticing him earlier. your own selfish desires to get out of this alley caused you to overlook a person in need of urgent aid.

you don’t think twice before reaching out towards him. it’s like your body moves on its own command—not waiting for your brain to figure out what to do.

“oh my god,” you’re shaking badly, but your body crawls closer to the injured figure. you don’t think twice. something you have always taught yourself to do before diving into unfamiliar situations.

not right now, however. you don’t hesitate to check up on the stranger. if you didn’t see his chest moving with each shaky breath, you’d have concluded that he’s dead.

“s-sir?” you panic. what do you do? you’ve never landed in such a predicament before. you look to your left and then to your right. no one to help you nor the bloodied man.

he doesn’t reply to your voice. that further worsens your anxiety. your eyes wander down towards the man’s abdomen. the wound was deep and painful, that much you can tell from the way he’s holding tightly onto it.

a bullet wound? you’re not sure.

right—the piece of cloth he’s keeping against the wound. that’s what you do to try and stop the bleeding. the warm red liquid stains the man’s baggy pants. his black shirt is nearly ripped to shreds, the material hanging on by a thread. literally.

“uhm, uh,” you look around and spot your bag on the floor. in a puddle. you pray that your laptop has made it. you don’t recall having anything with you that could help treat wounds.

you gulp and hastily take off your scarf. you carefully kneel in front of the half-conscious man. his head is held low. you don’t know if he can even hear you.

you reach your hand out towards him, aiming for his own bloody hands that hold onto his abdomen. you cringe due to the sight, but try your best to be of assistance.

the man hisses the moment you touch the his hand. your fingers stop mid-air, not wanting to touch him if he didn’t want to.

what am i thinking?

now is not the time for that. he’s bleeding out and you have this urge to get him to safety as soon as possible. even if you’re internally panicking because of the huge responsibility that fate has suddenly assigned you.

“i’ll call an ambulance. please hold on,” you try to be reassuring, however your choked up voice betrays your true feelings. you change the old cloth with your scarf, pressing it tightly against his injury.

you fish out your phone from your pocket using your other hand. the rain makes it hard to do anything. your screen is wet, your vision blurry. you type in the first number of the emergency services.

suddenly, a bigger hand swats yours, causing your phone to go flying to the other side of the street. you watch with wide eyes as your cellphone comes to a stop right next to a big puddle of rain.

you whip your head to the direction of the injured figure in front of you. the man tries to lifts his head, slowly, so he could look you in the eye. your heart stammers in your chest.

“sir, you’re bleeding out, you need to—“

“i don’t need anythin’.”

you don’t dare to move nor let out a single breath. you can feel the tip of a sharp blade rest under your chin—nearly penetrating the flesh. one wrong move and you will lose your life.

the man had moved too fast for you to even process. you don’t know how you even ended like this. with a bloody knife to your throat and an unknown man’s face right up against yours.

“leave,” the stranger demands. you know he’s not to be messed with, even in his weakened state, “i don’t need y’r help.”

his voice sounds rough. deep and raspy. it shakes you to your core—makes you listen to what he has to say. it’s hypnotising. a gust of wind blows over the both of you.

his bangs move and your gaze finally meets his. the background noises fade for a split second. your entire focus is on those beautiful emerald orbs staring into your own eyes. they’re gorgeous.

they're gorgeous; even if they lack that sparkle of life. his eyes tell stories—the rough journeys this man probably had to endure throughout the years. you’ve never seen such a sight. it tugs at your heartstring and urges you to help him.

you don’t know where these feelings came from, but amidst your anxiety, there’s an underlying desire to take care of him.

you shake your head, showing your unexpected defiance. you’re playing with fire. you know that all too well and yet you don’t care.

“no. i won’t leave,” your breath hitches. you notice the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes. he looks like he’s going to lose consciousness any second now. though his grip on the knife tells another story, “i won’t leave you alone. not like this.”

the injured stranger grunts in annoyance, but also in pain. your persistence makes him want to shove you to the side. to leave this place already and find a way out on his own. he doesn’t want your help.

he may actually need it, but he does not want to accept it.

despite those thoughts, he’s too weak. way too weak. he doesn’t like being weak. feeling weak is not his thing. vulnerability doesn’t suit him.

“you have a fuckin’ death wish,” the man scoffs. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto consciousness, but that is the last thing he cares about. he wants you gone. out of sight.

you stay in place. even through his chilling death threats. you can feel the blade start to invade the first layer of your skin. it hurts already. normally, you would’ve run. you want to. your mind tells you to get the hell out, but your heart and body yells at you to stay.

“i’ll give ya three seconds,” the stranger continues. he’s close. so close that you can feel his hot breath against your freezing cheeks. it’s intimidating, however not enough to scare you away.

the tighter your grip on the scarf against his abdomen, the tighter his grip on the handle of the knife. time will tell who’ll win this battle.

“three.”

the countdown starts. you swallow your own spit. the rain has you completely drenched. you catch a glimpse of the puddle underneath you both. the colour of it a light red as the man’s blood flows and mixes with the clear water.

“two.”

his voice is quieter than before. he’s losing his strength, but is stubborn enough to firmly keep the knife below your chin. you’re sure that your own blood is already trickling down the shiny metal.

the man’s lips part to announce the last number. your last chance. your final opportunity to escape and act like you have never seen him. you can go back to your normal life—continue living in your own world. the one you are familiar with.

one without this unknown man. this man with an aura of a cold hearted killer.

you fingers curl tightly against the scarf pressed against his wound. you refuse to let up. even if it means your own death. your eyes close—cold damp droplets roll down your cheeks. you don’t know if they’re your tears or if it’s just the pouring rain.

you hear a low, frustrated groan. he sounds so close yet so far from you. you can feel the man’s arm move to adjust his grip. probably to try and flawlessly puncture your jaw.

if only you accepted to eat out with your friend. if only you turned around and went back to your dorm the moment you knew it was going to rain. if only you didn’t take this shortcut today.

if only your fates hadn’t clashed.

“one.”

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk x y/n #toji x you #please give it lots of love 🙇🏽‍♀️

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