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scarlet-star-witch · 3 months

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The moon and his sun (Part IV)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

The court was in a frenzy.

The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince.

The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.

While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong.

Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held.

They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them.

Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm.

Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her.

He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side.

The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting.

He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish.

She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”

“I was ready to marry you years ago.”

She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed.

“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace.

He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband.

The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess.

She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan.

“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.

“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning.

To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter.

A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest.

She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married.

The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward.

Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening.

Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears.

“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room.

The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded.

She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.

“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before.

Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret.

She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment.

With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter.

She would not ruin her daughter’s big day.

Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.

All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame.

All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught.

She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation.

In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.

“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside.

The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.

Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him.

He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone.

His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife.

They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping.

As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves.

He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service.

They only had eyes for each other.

No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love.

“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty.

Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself.

Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again.

He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge.

He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him.

The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection.

Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him.

They could scarcely keep their hands from each other.

During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it.

His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife.

He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word.

When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him.

He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.

“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her.

The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly.

They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives.

Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning.

He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing.

He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence.

After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing.

The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it.

As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.

“Mind if I cut in?”

She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.

“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.

“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table.

She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.

“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”

She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.

She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down.

“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?”

His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her.

“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”

“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin.

Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her.

“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”

His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”

Aegon only smirked joyously.

“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”

“Aegon.”

The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.

She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok.

He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband.

“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare.

“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity.

He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment.

“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial.

The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.

“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.”

He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love.

“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.

Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.

She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm.

Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open.

She turned her head, looking up at her husband.

Gods, she would never get over saying that.

He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met.

Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.

“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her.

“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?”

Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark.

“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status.

She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.

He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks.

Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds.

His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat.

He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering.

“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile.

His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room.

His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her.

He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have.

“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.”

She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.

“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter.

He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability.

His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch.

He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted.

She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him.

He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight.

“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath.

“I would never do such a thing.”

He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife.

“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”

Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other.

Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face.

It had to be seen to be believed.

They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made.

Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private.

He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his.

They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies.

“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.

“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”

“I am not soft.”

She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter,

“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”

Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for.

“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause.

She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.

“Your legs are not hurting are they?”

Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again.

He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state.

It felt too good to be true.

Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else.

As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.

“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup.

He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him.

He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours.

He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them.

She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly.

“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy.

He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her.

“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”

Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.

“Is that something you want?”

“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely.

The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more.

“You’re going to be a wonderful father.”

Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her.

So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms.

Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.

“What’s wrong?”

She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand.

“Everything’s fine, Darling.”

“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer.

“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”

“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry.

She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester.

“Would you mind giving us a moment?”

The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper.

She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news.

“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern.

“And?”

Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach.

She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real.

She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.

Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation.

“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck.

She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved.

He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love.

“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly.

“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.”

He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree.

He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.

“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.”

He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her.

However, their peace didn’t last long.

Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.

The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about.

The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.

He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him.

“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”

“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her.

She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.

“No.”

His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night.

A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated.

With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain.

It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it.

Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back.

He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before.

She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options.

She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long.

As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath.

She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb.

Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch.

“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled.

“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him.

Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time.

His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.

“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”

Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”

“He?”

He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child.

“It’s just a feeling.”

She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect.

Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head.

“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.

“They’re happy tears.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her.

That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her.

His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving.

Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her.

“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.

He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end.

Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure.

“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high.

“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.

“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”

His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her.

His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes.

He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins.

“Again.” He commanded roughly.

She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her.

“I love you, more than anything.”

Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers.

She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation.

“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed.

“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze.

By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind.

He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights.

Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes.

Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards.

The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them.

He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.

He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon.

His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation.

They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it.

“Husband.”

Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side.

“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”

She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”

He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard.

“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look.

“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”

The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed.

Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant.

“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm.

His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger.

She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all.

She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar.

The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons.

Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man.

He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life.

As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea.

She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure.

Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other.

Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family.

“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews.

He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment.

“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with.

“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation.

“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.”

She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.

“We don’t have to go.”

He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought.

She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred.

“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”

Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin.

“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him.

She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting.

“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children.

He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly.

It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.

As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction.

Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile.

She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.

“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”

“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.”

“You didn’t join him?”

She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily.

“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.

Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with.

Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence.

They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in.

She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father.

The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.

Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment.

Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family.

Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.

She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her.

When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer.

Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand.

She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer.

She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.

Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back.

Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood.

The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash.

None of the choices seemed punishment enough.

As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully.

She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.

Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case.

“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear.

“What was so shocking?”

“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”

“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner.

Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads.

“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.”

“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly.

Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow.

The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire.

“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed.

She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night.

She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage.

But it did not last long.

She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away.

She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.

“Final tribute.”

Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold.

“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews.

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table.

Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her.

“It’s alright.” She assured her.

Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether.

The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions.

Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him.

He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.

Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.

Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed.

His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily.

“Are you alright?”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating.

Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of.

“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.

“I won’t.”

His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.

The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her.

The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.

“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely.

The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.

“What?”

The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight.

But she refused to let him sink into his despair.

He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately.

He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch.

“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side.

“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”

His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented.

“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”

His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage.

She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.

“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”

He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit.

“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.”

With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew.

He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly.

She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her.

As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly.

She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long.

The girls are fightinggg

And the angst is coming xx

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon fic

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flippinpancakes64 · 1 month

Note

the Cullens with a reader who can't show emotions and finally smiles after 10 years because of something cute the cullens did?

The Cullens when their SO finally smiles

I’m so terrible at making titles I’m sorry guys. Also for all of these scenarios I was envisioning that the reader is a vampire as well so do with that what you will

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He turned you years ago now

And he’s known you for even longer than that

And for all those years, you have never outwardly shown your emotions

The most he gets from you is a furrow of the brows or a slight frown

It frustrated him a LOT at first

He just felt like he could never get through to you

But over the years of reading your mind and picking up on your other cues as to what you’re feeling, he’s learned to be okay

The two of you are sitting in one of your classes in school

Your Spanish teacher is currently talking about basic vocab for the upcoming unit

You two weren’t paying attention, choosing instead to just look at each other, when the teacher calls Edward’s name

“Mr. Cullen, mind telling me what this is called?” She points to the whiteboard that was currently displaying a picture of a shirt

“Camisa.”

“Wrong.”

“What?”

The look on Edward’s face was priceless, a mix between betrayal, mortification, and confusion

“This is a t-shirt, the word is camiseta. I suggest paying more attention next time.”

You wished you had gotten a picture of the snarl on his face

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as you giggled silently at Edward’s frustration

Instantly, all of his negative emotions were gone

You, the love of his life, the light of his world, the stone statue in his room, was smiling

He was in awe

He knew that he could never forget anything, his memory too perfect for that, but he still tried his best to commit your face to memory as best as he could

You noticed him staring and straightened your face out

He let it go until class was over, but as soon as the bell rang he grabbed you and pulled you into the hallway

“I always knew your face was capable of emotion”

“Nuh uh. My face is actually always permanently stuck like this”

“Liar”

Even if you never smile again, he can finally rest easy knowing what your gorgeous smile looks like

Even if it was at his expense

Alice:

She’s sort of used to not being able to pick up on emotions

Jasper’s always been more focused on not killing people, it’s not often that he’s comfortable enough to laugh

But then again, he shows discomfort on his face

You show nothing

Sure she was a little frustrated by it, but she got over it

Despite that, she loves you, and she loves everything about you

It’s not like this is a dealbreaker or anything

So life moves on

You were turned a couple of years ago by Carlisle, but you and Alice are only now getting married

You wanted to make sure that you could invite your human family without wanting to hurt them

And ten years was plenty time for that

You were currently standing back to back with Alice, the ends of her flowy dress were tickling your ankles

It was time for the first look, and you both were so excited

Carlisle and Esme stood nearby, Rosalie right in front of you two

“Okay, on the count of three, turn to look at each other. One, two, three”

You both whipped around

And before you stood the ethereal Alice

Dressed in a flowy dress with light purple accents, flowery clips in her short hair, and a huge smile on her face

She looked amazing

There were no words in your mind to describe her

So you just smiled

A big, toothy grin as you took in your future wife

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before you were almost tackled to the ground by Alice

“This is the best wedding gift I could have asked for!!! I saw in a vision that you gave me an amazing gift but I didn’t get to see what it was! Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Alice I didn’t get you a gift?”

You were so confused

“Of course you did, silly. This right here.”

And with that she kissed you right on your smiling mouth

Jasper:

He’s sort of similar to you

Whenever he’s out in public, he’s too focused on not letting his urges take over

He doesn’t usually smile at jokes, frown at problems, or just generally emote

But when he’s home and away from temptation, he becomes more himself

Only, you don’t change

You’re the same stonefaced self you always are

It’s not too hard for him to deal with, he can feel your emotions

He knows when you’re happy, sad, angry, scared, everything

But of course, he has always wondered what your smile might look like

If he could sleep, he would dream about it

But he never pushes you

It’s a nice, October day

The trees are orange, yellow, and red. The air smells like honey and hot cocoa, and Jasper’s taking you to a horseback riding farm

He wanted to connect to his roots, and prove to you that he was capable of riding a horse at one point

You were both set up with your own horse

Yours was named Princess because she always carried herself with a certain pride

Jasper’s was called Toothache cause he likes to hit people in the jaw

He insisted on taking the difficult one, he claimed over and over that he would be okay

You and Princess were quick buddies, galloping around the pen with ease

Jasper was still trying to get within five feet of Toothache

He decided to try approaching from behind, seeing if the element of surprise would work

But all that got him was a hoof straight to the jaw

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat, a quick, dry guffaw as you looked on in disbelief

Jasper was almost too preoccupied with his anger at the horse to notice, but he did

In an instant he was next to you, staring deeply into your face which was now lit up with laughter

“Horse be damned, we’re goin home, sugar”

He cuddled you the rest of the night

Rosalie:

She was and is very frustrated at your lack of emotion

She’s not asking you to smile 24/7

But once would be nice

The two of you were out and about

Carlisle needed some more supplies for his home clinic, but his schedule for the week wouldn’t allow him to go get them himself

So he wrote a list for whichever one of his kids wanted to go get them for him

You wanted to do it, and since Rosalie loves you, she decided to go to

That’s how you ended up standing under the awning of a RiteAid as the rain beat harshly against the ground

Originally, you guys were going to wait until the rain stopped to run out to Rosalie’s car

But it’s been 7 minutes (not that you were counting) and it only kept pouring

“Do you want to make a run for it?” You asked

“And get my hair wet? No thanks. We can wait, unless you’re in a rush?”

“No I’m good”

And so you kept waiting

As you were standing there, a car veered into the wet parking lot, tires squealing as it turned the sharp corners

It whipped past the front of the store… and splashed a huge puddle onto you and Rosalie

You stood there shocked for a moment, vaguely registering your newly wet socks, when you heard Rose shriek next to you

“I’m gonna kill that fucking asshole!”

Cue a complete meltdown

She’s yelling about the manner in which she will stalk him, slowly make him paranoid, skin him, and then leave his body for his family to find

All while looking like a wet rat

You can’t help but have a goofy smile on your face, your beautiful wife ranting angrily about some stupid teenager

“Are you laughing at me? I swear to god I’ll skin you too. This is unbelievable!”

Once she’s calmed down later she can’t believe that she missed a once in a lifetime opportunity because she was so angry

A couple kisses should calm her down though

Emmett:

He prides himself on being a pretty funny guy

He cracks jokes all the time

I mean, his speech at Bella and Edward’s wedding was full of jokes and innuendos

His ego gets a little bruised every time you don’t laugh at one of his jokes

He knows that you don’t laugh at anything, but still

He would LOVE to be the exception

But 10+ years and he’s started to lose hope about that

That doesn’t stop him from trying though

You two were walking in the mall, hopping from store to store as you bought everything and Emmett carried it all

Across the aisle, you see two people, a guy and a girl

The guy was wearing one of those alpha wolf t-shirts, the words “mess with the alpha, you get the roar” printed boldly on the back

The girl was wearing galaxy leggings, a shirt with a potato on it, and a cat ear headband

The guy took his fedora off of his head, holding it up so that it covered both his and his girlfriend’s faces while they kissed- for far too long, you might add

As you were standing in complete awe at the sight in front of you, you felt Emmett lean close to your ear

“Don’t wowwy kitten, daddy wiww pwotect you”

You lost it

You let out a loud laugh followed by giggles, doubling over as you clutched your middle

Now it was Emmett’s turn to stand there in shock

“Out of all of the carefully planned out, methodical jokes, pranks, and everything else, you laugh at a Daddy’s Kitten joke?????”

He doesn’t know whether to be happy or angry

Esme:

Again, she’s a little upset that you don’t show how you feel

Mostly she’s just worried that you’re gonna end up being emotionally constipated like Pre-Bella Edward

She does not want to deal with that again

Over the years, she’s gotten both more relaxed and more concerned

More relaxed because she’s come to realize that that’s just how you are

More concerned because you would really think that your SO would show some kind of emotion over the span of so many years

But whatever

She tries not to worry too much

Esme had recently joined a local book club with some of the other moms in their newest town

She loved her little group of friends, it gave her an excuse to leave the house

One of the girls had a birthday coming up, and Esme decided to bake her a cake

You’re sitting at the kitchen island, soft music playing from the radio as Esme floats around the room

All of the ingredients litter the counters, looking out of place in the normally empty kitchen

She’s humming as she’s whisking the eggs and milk together

You’re content just to watch her, making occasional small-talk in between phases of her concentrating

Hours later, it’s finally done

Nothing too extravagant, a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and delicate lettering of the woman’s name on top

Esme’s standing behind her creation with a huge smile on her face, pride obvious in her expression

Only she’s got something else on her face too

A little smear of the chocolate frosting right above her chin

You walk over to her, grabbing her face in your hands

She’s beaming at you, and you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face as you wipe off the frosting

She stares at you for a moment with her mouth open, before she shoots you a loving gaze

“This suits you, darling, you should do it more”

And she kisses that smile right off

Carlisle:

He’s probably the least concerned

He’s met many people over his many years of life

No two people are exactly the same, and some people are really different

You don’t show emotion, that just makes you unique, it makes you you

So he’s not too worried

He questioned you briefly while you were still alive if you had depression or something like that

But after you said no, he let it up

Carlisle is sitting at his home desk, writing some papers for the clinic

He’s stressed, very visibly so

And you know exactly why

A new patient came in not too long ago, a young girl who he told you reminds him a lot of this girl he used to babysit when he was still alive

She’s incredibly ill and no one can figure out why

All of the tests show mixed results, the only concrete knowledge they have is that she’s dying

The dark circles under his eyes are prominent

He hasn’t gone hunting since the girl arrived by ambulance one night over two weeks ago

And before that he hadn’t hunted in a while

His skin is greying, his motions are visibly slower, his reactions more delayed

Even at this state, he’s in better condition than most humans, but this is not the man you know

Which is why you’re here with him

You’ve been trying to convince him to go hunting for a while, to just take a break and rest, but he won’t listen

So you’ve resorted to just hanging out with him

It’s better than nothing after all

But as you look over his shoulder to see what he’s writing, you find that you can’t make anything out

Various letters of English words are mixed in with Greek and Chinese characters, accent marks hover over letters, and the punctuation is all messed up

“Carlisle… is that a new language you made up?”

He stops for a second, sets his pen down, and really looks at what he’s been writing for the last 10 minutes

And then he just starts laughing

And you can’t help but smile too

“Are you finally gonna admit defeat and come relax for a little bit?”

He spins around to face you, fully taking in the smile on your face, before rising to place a kiss on your forehead

“Fine, let’s go cuddle”

Vampire! Bella:

She thinks you’re freaky

She’s always been a bad liar, so she can’t hold back reactions even if she wanted to

You can’t seem to react even if you wanted to

She thinks it’s so weird

She’s tried her hardest over the years to get something-anything out of you, but nada

She’s sort of given up by now

You two are out hunting

She insisted on running all the way to New Mexico to find a cougar, so off you went

You’re running through the trees, dodging branches and leaping over roots as you both follow on the tail of your prey

“Go that way, I’ll go this way, and we’ll trap it”

“Got it” you said, and veered off to the right

You managed to come up on the side of the cougar, pouncing on it and taking it down after a bit of a struggle

Only, you noticed Bella was nowhere to be seen

You left your now dead food behind to go searching for her

All it took was one call of her name for you to hear a response… very very far away

“Where the hell are you?”

“Down here!”

You looked down over the cliff’s edge to see Bella at the bottom

Dirt on her face, twigs in her hair, and her high heeled boots broken

You couldn’t help but laugh

“Really? That’s what it takes you fucking asshole? Me falling off a cliff? Oh, you’re so dead when I get up there!”

So naturally you make a run for it

269 notes · View notes

michelle-is-writing · 7 months

Text

Protector, Warren Worthington iii

Word Count: 4.5k~

I had been best friends with Warren ever since I met him.

Throughout our years in school, Warren and I had always stuck by each other's side. We hung out together, ate lunch with each other, and nearly forgot about all those people around us who would point out his wings to hurt him. It was like we were in our own little world, and in a way, we were.

We met in the second grade while our class was in the library. While looking for a book, I found Warren, huddled up behind a bookshelf in the elementary school library. He was red in the face and crying as he held his knees close to him. Instantly, I noticed his wings, of course - how could I not?

However, this didn't stop me from going up and asking him what was wrong. I can still remember the way his curls bounced against his scalp as he turned his attention away from his lap and up to me, quickly wiping away his tears to cover up his emotions. Despite being so young, he knew how to expertly do this as he pretended that nothing was wrong and he wasn't crying merely thirty seconds ago.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting beside him. I saw him tense up, his back straightening up as he laid his legs out in front of him instead of hugging them to his chest.

"Nothing," He instantly answered me, once again, pretending as if everything wasn't as it seemed.

Instead of saying anything more, I let the boldness I had as an eight-year-old takeover and pulled him into my arms, his figure becoming even tenser. Although, he didn't pull away, and instead, just stayed in that position until I spoke up.

"The kids are mean to me too," I told him, his breath catching in his throat. "And they shouldn't be because you seem pretty cool," I explained with a smile as he turned his eyes up to look at me again. "No one else here has wings, and they're really pretty."

From then on, we were practically inseparable. We weren't seen without each other, and despite bullies picking on us, we didn't let their words bother us. Even as we got older, nothing changed, and in spite of living in an expensive house with nearly triple the amount of space that my house was, Warren chose to stay at my place most nights. His parents didn't care about what he did, and my parents were more than happy to have him over.

When we reached high school, our friendship turned into an actual relationship between two lovebirds (no pun intended). Now we really were inseparable.

However, this changed one night when he went out to grab something from the store. I was sick, and needed medicine; so, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, he decided he would go out and get some. I guess we underestimated how much mutants were hated in the area as Warren never came back.

Now it's been three months since he disappeared.

Every night since, I went searching for him, only to return to some hotel or hostel without him. I don't know what came over me tonight though. For all my life, I've always been told to avoid putting myself in dangerous settings, and yet, all of those lessons were cast away as I heard people screaming and hollering down an empty and dark alleyway while in Munich. My searching had taken me far away from home, but I wasn't going to stop until I found Warren.

Following the sounds of excitement and fury, I found a hidden door that led to what seemed to be a fighting ring. People surround the caged area, but I push through them, ignoring their waving arms with money held high. I stop at the metal fence separating the people from the ring, only to gasp in horror as my eyes fall over the white, fluffy wings I've loved for many years.

"Warren..." I hear his name being whispered through my lips, tears forming in my eyes as I look at his hurt and pained figure. Fighting for his life against another mutant, he spits blood from his mouth as he wipes away the blood forming on the cut across his cheek. The tattered t-shirt he wears, the same thing he wore the night he disappeared, barely hangs onto his shoulders by a few strips of fabric, the band emblem on the front no longer being recognizable. His arms have fresh bruises forming all along the skin while fading bruises covers the visible parts of torso. How the hell did he get here?

Too shocked to move, I watch as Warren throws a punch at the other mutant, only to hit the fence in front of him, the silver eliciting sparks as soon as Warren touches it. "Shit!" He yells while the blue mutant seemingly teleports to different parts of the cage, only to receive the same treatment as Warren did. Hearing his voice after so long makes me nearly choke on the air in my throat, the tears now falling freely. Seeing Warren makes me want to rip through the fence and save him, but seeing that the metal fence is electric, I can't simply do that.

Blinking the oncoming tears away, I glance in every corner of the underground hideaway and try to find something that might resemble a control panel. It isn't until I see a switch box on what seems to be a surveying floor that I begin running to it, successfully climbing up the steps to the higher level and stopping in front of it. Gazing back to the fighting ring, I see Warren shouting at the dodging mutant while people standing around the cage yell out vile words of hate and absolute greed.

"Warren!" I shout his name as loud as I can, placing my hand on the handle to the electrical switch. Instantly, his head darts toward the voice calling his name, every inch of his being relaxing once he sees me. I smile at him before nodding, his eyes following my hand as it begins pushing the handle downward. Just before the electricity goes out, I see Warren's dirty wings perk up just as the entire underground arena goes pitch black.

In the darkness, the people's screams die down while the clinging sound of the fence being ripped apart follows it. Mere seconds pass before I familiar arms wrap around me and tug me close to their body, Warren's wings flapping rapidly as he lifts us into the air and to the hidden door I entered through. Once we're outside, we quickly run as far as we can before stopping in another alley, far away from the other one.

As soon as we stop, Warren wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, his lips immediately attaching to mine in a fervent and much-needed kiss. His hand on my waist never falters in its hold on me, and instead, it squeezes the flesh there as if he were testing if I was real or not.

"I'm here," I tell him, sliding my hands down his face as endless tears fall from his cheeks and onto my hands. Staring into his tear-filled eyes, I can't help but cry tears of happiness as well. "I'm right here."

Nodding, Warren folds his wings behind him, slightly wincing at the pain of them conforming against his back. "Fucking hell," He mutters, placing his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. A few seconds pass of him just holding me before he kisses me once more. "I've missed you so fucking much."

Our sweet reunion is cut short by a black vehicle slamming on their brakes at the end of the alleyway. "Warren," I say his name, concerned at the sight in front of us. Warren turns around, only for his wings to burst out again, shielding me from seeing anything. Peeking under one of the long feathers, I see two men leave the vehicle before one of them points at Warren.

"That's him!" The man yells, "Get him!"

In an instant, Warren swings around and wraps his arms and wings around me, protecting me from the flurry of oncoming bullets. What appears to be eight shots sounds throughout the alley before the same car speeds off again as Warren begins to topple over. Was he shot?

Trying to catch him before he falls on his face, I wrap my arms around Warren and hold him up for a few seconds, only for his size to take over mine and fall to the side. Landing on his back with me on top of him, Warren waves his hand at me while shaking his head, his eyes shut. "I'm fine," He mutters, his voice now suddenly tired and drained.

Eyes wide and concerned, I turn him onto his side and look over him to see blood pouring from his wings. Between the layers of feathers, I find what seems to be four bullet wounds, causing me to practically lose it as the crimson liquid touches my hands. "No, no, no, no, no," I mutter uncontrollably as I place him onto his back. "Warren, Warren," I repeat his name, running my hand against the side of his face, his own blood smearing across his flawless cheek. "Warren, don't go to sleep!"

At my heartbroken plea, Warren opens his eyes, frowning at the sight of tears pouring from my eyes. "Don't cry, my love," He begs, his voice even weaker than before. He lifts a hand to my face, doing the same to me just as I had done to him. I quickly place my hand over his, holding it there as I feel the warmth in his skin begin slowly leaving it. "I... I love you..." He whispers, his eyes closing once again.

Just like a few seconds ago, I feel every ounce of sanity leave me as I watch the love of life wither away in front of me. "Warren, don't do this to me!" I shout, the tears now falling like a waterfall. I could barely manage not seeing him for the three hellish months when he was missing - I can't live the rest of my life without him.

"Warren!" I scream his name again, utter desperation being the only recognizable thing in my voice. Releasing a sob, I push my head against his chest and hear his still-beating heart. However, I know that if I don't get him to a hospital within the next few seconds, his heart won't continue beating like that. But what hospital will even help us?

"Ma'am?" I hear a woman's soft voice coming from the end of the alley, causing me to jerk my head up and see a blonde woman standing twenty feet away. Concerned, she walks closer to me before kneeling beside Warren and me, the knees of her pants becoming stained with his spilled blood on the alley ground. His wings are the first things that catch her focus, making me want to hold him closer.

"Please, don't hurt him," I beg her, my hand holding his hand a bit tighter. "He-he's a-" The woman cuts me off.

"He's a mutant," She points out, looking over at me. Still crying, I nod once, watching as a small smile appears on her face. Within a short second, the fair skin she once had transforms into blue flesh with darker blue scales, her eyes turning yellow and green while her hair changes into a much brighter orange/red.

"It's okay," She assures me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I am too, and I can help."

Her words, not to mention her sudden change of looks, shock me, but I nod at her, ready to do anything this woman says if it means saving Warren.

"Where's his family?" She asks me, her hand remaining on my shoulder as she kneels on the ground beside me.

"Me," I quickly answer her, tears still falling from my eyes. "I am his family."

"You're not a mutant," She points out, shaking her head with squinted eyes as she looks at me a bit confused. "And you care for him?"

"He's my best friend, the love of my life..." I answer her, my heart clenching as the words leave my lips. "Please, you have to help us!"

The woman nods, giving me a small, encouraging smile. "Kurt!" She abruptly yells, a teenage boy with blue skin and carvings appearing behind her with a blue puff of smoke following. I instantly recognize him as the other mutant in the pin with Warren earlier, and in spite of this, he doesn't try to get back at Warren while he's down.

Pulling his hand to get closer, she makes him get on our level before wrapping his arm around her and me. The stranger, Kurt, then wraps his other arm around Warren's almost lifeless body and tugs him a bit closer as well. "Get us all to the mansion nurse's ward - now!"

With the woman's last words, Kurt somehow does so, causing us to suddenly be in a nurse's station only a second later. This all confuses the living hell out of me, but with Kurt having a tail and red eyes, and not to mention blue skin like the lady, I don't know if I should be questioning the normalcy of anything at the moment.

Immediately, three scrubbed nurses rush up to where we are and pick Warren up from the ground. "He was shot, multiple times," The blue woman quickly explains, standing up from the ground. "He'll need blood, and you need to act quick."

Listening to her, the three nurses nod before taking an unconscious Warren back to what I could guess is surgery. Numb, I sit on the cold tile floor as I reach my blood-covered hands up to cross my arms and hold myself, my eyes stuck on the swinging doors that Warren was just carried through. Beside me is Kurt as he places a consoling hand on my shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"He vill be alright," Kurt assures me, his words helping me out a little. Giving him a small nod of my head, I take his held-out hand and stand up with him. "That is Raven, by the way," He adds as the woman from before moves to stand in front of me, taking my hand in hers despite it stained crimson.

"This is the Xavier mansion," She explains to me, "You're safe; we won't hurt you."

At her words, I nod. "I know," I tell her, giving her a small smile. "I trust you."

Smiling back at me, Mystique's eyes flicker behind me before her mouth slightly parts, her hand holding mine slightly faltering. "Who is this, Raven?" I hear a soft British voice speak up, causing me to slowly turn around and see a man in a wheelchair now in front of me. His eyes quickly catch my blood-covered hands and arms, shock taking over him. "Dear heavens, what happened to you, dear?"

I go to answer him, but my voice defeats me in doing so. Instead, Mystique speaks for me. "Charles, her and a fellow mutant were shot at in an alleyway when Kurt and I were passing by. He has wings, that's where most of the bullets hit him," She explains to him, "She has no ill will toward any of us - she just wants her boyfriend to survive."

A few seconds pass before the man, Charles, nods, staring at me with a frown. "I'm sorry to hear that, love," He tells me, giving me a single nod. "Raven, help her get cleaned up and fetch some fresh clothes for her as well," With that, Charles wheels himself out of the room and into the hallway where he enters the room at the end.

In a puff of blue smoke, Kurt leaves Mystique and me, letting us head to what I presume is her room where she wets a washcloth and begins rubbing the drying blood from my arms. "He will be alright," She tells me, saying Kurt's exact words from moments ago. "Trust me."

I nod at her words, but I can't believe them myself. What if Warren isn't okay? What if one of the bullets when through his spine and he's now paralyzed? I couldn't see all of his wounds so I don't know where they all hit him, minus the few I could see in his wings. What if the nurses and doctors can't do anything and he dies on the table? I can't bear to lose him - not again.

With my arms their original (s/c) color, I change into a pair of pajama pants and matching top with a school emblem given to me by Raven before walking with her to Charles' office. Stopping in front of his desk, Mystique and I watch as the man from earlier sits at his desk with his attention stuck on the novel stuck in his hands. However, it doesn't take long for him to notice our presence and put the book down with his glasses following.

"(Y/n), is it?" Charles asks me, turning his attention up to me. Surprised, I hesitantly nod as he speaks up once more. "No need to worry, dear," He assures me with a smile despite my caution. "I'm able to read minds and communicate through them as well," Charles further explains. "Raven and I were talking while she helped you with your arms and hands,"

"I understand you've been through a lot in the past hour, so I won't force you to talk about it," Charles tells me, making me let out a small sigh of relief. "But I am a bit concerned over the fact that you were in such a predicament that your partner was shot," Holding his hand out, Charles waits for me to place my hand in his. "I won't scour through your brain and look at everything you've ever seen or done - I just want to see what all transpired tonight."

Hesitating, I bite my lip in thought before shakily putting my hand in Charles, his touch being warm and welcoming. I feel as Charles does what he told me he would do, the images of the past month flashing before my eyes. Warren's disappearance, me finding him, and helping him get out are all shown before me like a home movie shot from my perspective. Because of this, I gasp a little, shocked at Charles' ability to do such a thing.

Slowly slipping his hand from mine, Charles' eyebrows furrow in thought before flashing his eyes up to mine, confusion written all over them. "You're a human with no powers or anything," He points out, slightly pausing in his words. "And yet, you've always loved a mutant?"

His words come out as a question, but to me, they're a true statement. I love Warren - I always have - and nothing about him will ever change that. "He's human just as I am," I tell Charles, giving him a small smile. "but, with wings," I further add, my smile growing sad as I lightly shrug. "How could I not love my angel?"

My words washing over him, Charles smiles back. "I like you," He tells me, Raven putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Your friend, I think he'll pull through. After all, he has a great incentive."

Because of Charles' words, I smile and give him a nod of thanks just as a question rises to my mind. "What... what is this place?" I ask, gesturing to the overall building. I know it has to be an establishment of some sort going by the built-in medical wing and wide hallways.

"This," Charles states, pointing his finger to the ceiling while his eyes remain on mine. "Is Xavier's a school for gifted youngsters," He informs me before nodding his head once. "This is a school specialized for children with mutations such as Warren, or Kurt, whom you met earlier."

Furrowing my eyebrows together, another question comes to mind. "Why have I never heard of this place before?" I ask, receiving a small smile.

"We're a relatively small school," Charles simply explains, "Ultimately, if your boyfriend would want to join, he could - now, you're not a mutant, but the unique and understanding attitude you give off, I'm sure we could work something out for you too."

His words make my cheeks turn pink in response to the compliment as I thank him, turning my eyes toward the ground as I try to fight the ever-growing smile on my lips. Just as I do this, I see Charles put a hand to his forehead as his eyebrows furrow before looking over at Mystique with a smile. "Raven, take her back to the medical ward," he tells the fiery-haired woman. "It seems that her friend was easily operable and now they're just waiting for him to wake up."

Almost immediately, I turn and follow Mystique out of the room with my pace just a little faster than hers. Soon enough, we walk through the doors and directly to the beds where only one of them is occupied, and the sleeping body in it is Warren's. The window behind him shines down on him with the bright and early morning sun highlighting his now washed and pure white wings that lie behind him. The sight is a complete contrast to what I saw only an hour ago with the almost black sky darkening everything around us and only emphasizing the dirt and grime that covered Warren's perfect wings.

"We told you he'd be okay," I hear Mystique's gentle voice beside me say, causing me to nod with an onrush of tears rising in my eyes. They were right, and my Warren is okay.

Moving closer to him, I sit beside Warren on the bed and take his hand in mine, his unconscious body unresponsive toward my touch and his perfect face never changing. "I'll let you two be alone," Mystique speaks up before doing as she says and walking back toward the door. Once I hear the swinging door shut, the tears residing in my eyes quickly fall over the barrier and down my face as I try to hold in my sobs.

When you love someone, you never want to see them in pain or hurting, and when they're laid up in a hospital bed with consciousness being a waiting game, it hurts you. It physically hurts you to the point where your chest feels heavy with dread, and your stomach feels sick with worry. It's terrible, and I wish there was something I could've done to protect Warren from getting shot.

"I'm so sorry," I sob, turning my eyes away from him and toward the floor. Raising my free hand to cover my mouth as the sobs tumble out, I don't notice Warren's hand gently squeezing mine until I feel the bed beneath me slightly moves.

Immediately looking back over to him, I see his eyes flutter open and quickly dart to me, confusion taking over his tired face as soon as he sees my crying form. "Why..." Warren slowly starts speaking, his voice raspy and scratchy with sleep. "Why are you crying, love?" He finishes his question, now trying to sit up.

"No, no, baby," I usher him to continue lying flat, moving to stand on my knee on the side of his bed before pushing his shoulders back down onto the mattress. Despite this, he still doesn't listen and moves to wrap his arms around me before pulling me fully onto the bed and holding me to his chest. Finally, Warren does lie back down, but in a matter of seconds, his wings are fluttering around me like any other time I'd be on top of him. My eyes quickly catch sight of the now bandaged wounds, and now that I get a better look, I see that there was one more bullet-wound than I initially thought. "Warren, your stitches!"

"It's okay, love," He sleepily responds, leaning his head back to look up at me with a happy face. "I'm so damn happy to see you," Warren confesses, his eyes gazing over me as if I were a precious gem.

If it weren't for the nurses cleaning the dirt from his face and body, I wouldn't have been able to assess the full damage the fighting ring did to him. Above his left eye is a healing bruise that covers a majority of the side of his forehead, and his bottom lip is split, making it swollen. On top of all of that, his green eyes are sunken in and practically taken over by dark circles.

Still, he continues staring at me, acting as if nothing is bothering him until a look of confusion fall over his face. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were crying?" Warren repeats his question from earlier, making me shake my head as more tears rise to my eyes.

"You almost died, Warren," I inform him, his face still unchanging. "I've been without you for three damn months, and the night I get you back, I almost lost you again - for good!" I add on, raising a hand to wipe away my fast-falling tears.

However, Warren beats me to it and places his hands against my cheeks where he gently holds me, his face now soft. I guess he hasn't assessed the severity of the situation. That, or he hasn't taken the time to fully realize that he has stitched-up bullet wounds adorning his wings.

"I'm sorry," Warren apologizes after a few seconds of silence. Despite expecting those two words, it still doesn't hit me any easier as I'm sobbing once again, this time, into Warren's chest.

Holding me close, Warren waits a few moments before moving his hands back to my face and turning me to look at him directly. As soon as he gets the chance, Warren places his rough lips on top of mine, the skin chapped from the harsh things he's been put through. Despite crying moments ago, my tears ultimately stop as I come to the realization of how much I've missed the feeling of Warren's lips on mine. Chapped or not, his lips are the pure definition of Heaven, and when they're on top of mine, it's like pure ecstasy.

Pulling away for air, I pant above Warren as he does the same, his hands now sliding down to grip my waist once again. "I love you," He tells me, "And I've missed you- God, how I've missed you," Warren adds, shaking his head as a small, almost unnoticeable tear falls down his cheek. "Each day was hell without you, and I can't be without you, not again."

Smiling at him, I lean down once more and peck his soft cheek before nuzzling my head next to his on the pillow, his hold on me never changing in the slightest. "You won't have to, Angel," I tell him, watching his lips quirk up in a smile at my nickname for him. Deciding on leaving the explanation of where we're at for later, I close my eyes alongside Warren and fall asleep, finally able to relax knowing he and I can be together with no one to stop or hurt us.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben jones #ben hardy x fem reader #ben hardy fluff #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii imagines #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington imagines #warren worthington iii imagine #warren worthington iii

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superbdragoncollection-stuff · 10 months

Text

"We did it, but others told us to."

We thought it would be fun. Wars were always a civilized business after all. It was supposed to be grand, sweeping, and romantic. Two armies would clash, there would be lots of daring do, and once this grand conflict was over that was that. You didn't hold a grudge. It was a relief from the boredom of jobs at home. You got done, shook hands, picked up the dead, and that was that. We didn't have a quarrel with the other male, this was between our bosses, see? It's the way of things. We challenge a dominant power to see who is better.

We were just following orders.

We took their Jupiter bases and wondered what all the hubbub was about further inward. Something about the targets we hit. I didn't understand. Sure the bases didn't have any weapons, but this was war. We were doing our jobs.

They opened up on us at the asteroid belt, with hundred megawatt transportation lasers and mass drivers. We didn't expect that. This was supposed to be civilized! They made us fight our way through the belt, forcing us to lose ten fighters for every kilometer of space. They were using civilian equipment against us! Those lasers were for high speed transportation, those mass drivers for cargo delivery! Why did they not use proper warships? We were just doing our jobs.

The Martian colony, here we thought would be the great decisive battle. They threw dozens of ships against us. They used their megawatt lasers and mass drivers. Their reaction drives burned out anything that got close. They screamed their hate at us and we didn't understand. We were just doing our jobs.

We dropped bombs on their colonies, we seized their stations. We took them fair and square. But they were savage. Our troops landed and they were gunned down by heavy machine guns. Machine guns designed hundreds of years ago! And their designs had stayed the same. Their rifles and tanks were certainly different, but that machine gun, that Browning, had stayed the same. And they screamed at us. They called in close air support, they planted mines, they did everything they could to bleed us dry. We destroyed what the officers said to. We blew up domes. We destroyed train lines. Even those that had nothing to do with the war effort. So what? What's that got to do with us? We did it, but others ordered us to. And isn't it our right as conquerers? We were just doing our jobs.

Their anger only grew worse. As we moved, they continued to throw everything they had at us. Soldiers sacrificed themselves so their fellows could retreat in good order. They did those kamikaze runs they are so proud of. And the prisoners were angry. We gave them supplies, and still they cursed us. We tried to be nice, to compliment them on their skills, and they were silent. They called it "interrogation". We called it friendly chats.

"Why do you force us to destroy so much expensive material? Damage to private property is very uncouth, you know! It's very expensive!"

"You bombed civilian targets!" The fighter pilot snapped at us, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your people use private machinery rather than weapons to fight us! Well you do both, but that's beside the point!"

"We didn't hide troops in civilian domes!" The pilot shouted.

"That was what we were ordered to do. It was not my doing. The commanders simply felt a show of force was necessary."

"Necessary?! You son of a--!" We had to restrain her then.

"What inspires this loyalty?" I demanded, "You fight as though more depends on you than your life! What demands such high sacrifices?"

"If it means beating baby killers!" She snarled, her head pinned by one of my soldiers. She managed to move it, "We'll throw everything we've got at you! Someday we'll defeat you! And then you'll see who's laughing!"

I was flummoxed. "Why do you do this? Why do you fight so hard? You're only doing your job!"

She seemed confused by that. "Of course I am!"

I knelt down to where three of my soldiers held her, "Yes! So why fight so hard? Why do you defy us like this? Why do you make us kill and destroy private property?"

She seemed baffled. "What do you mean? I fight because I'm part of the UN Defense Force! Why else?"

"But you don't need to fight this hard. We fight, one of us loses, we shake hands! That's war!"

She looked befuddled, "The fuck is wrong with you, *bug*? What kinda war is that? Sounds like a slapfight!"

I tried to dumb it down for her. "You plant mines. You set traps. You crash your ships into ours. What kind of war is that? What inspires this loyalty, this desire to sacrifice so much? You are but an employee of your masters. They demand no less than you doing your job, and no more. You do not need to go beyond!"

She confusedly said, "Because that's war, idiot."

By the time we reached the lunar perimeter, our force was battered beyond belief. Forces were still fighting over Mars, and the Mercury and Venus attacks had been blunted. We finally encountered their war fleet. Many of the ships were barely finished. They had been pulled out of the dock yards still with workers aboard. Why was that? Our leader hailed their fleet admiral. He congratulated them for their clever tactics and admonished them for their unsavory techniques. He gave them a list of booty to recover, requested a refuel, and gave them a time frame for when we would be on our way. The war was over, we'd made it to their homeworld. This is how the great competitive wars are always done. Something about this confused the Admiral. "This isn't a game!" They spat. "War isn't defending dots on a map! It's death! Vast organized death! Are you telling me you came all this way for FUN?!"

"No, we came here to see who is better."

"That's the same thing."

"No it isn't." Our leader said dismissively. He paused, "Tell me, what inspires this loyalty in you? Aren't you just doing your jobs?"

"What?"

"You're just following orders. So are we. What inspires this unthinking, undying loyalty? You're just following orders, as all civilized beings should. We are just following orders." The comm line went dead. The humans unleashed a terrible display of firepower. They learned a long time ago that loyalty is not simple deference. And that war is more than just orders, it is not romantic.

War is not a game to them.

#humanity fuck yeah #hfy #Humans are weird #Original writing #Twilight zone quotes

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thehighpriestess1 · 1 year

Text

August : 12

Summary : There is more to Gojo than that meets the eyes. Y/n allowed herself to feel loved and tries to keep an open mind.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Word count : 10k+

Warning : TW : mention of self harm and sui***e, 18+ only.

Masterlist : Previous

Ask box

Picking out clothes with Gojo was not as fun as you had expected. He wanted everything in every color. Everything was too cute to pass on to. His excitement was fair. You had been in a similar place a month ago. This was his time to be a father. You wondered as you watched him look at one overall after another, how excited he would have been if he was there when Keisuke was born. It hurt you that even if you chose to stay there was no photo of Keisuke and Gojo in the hospital. No family photo. In a month Keisuke would be 3 months old, maybe this was the right time to get one. There was still hesitation in your heart about Gojo. But you promised him one month. So for one month you would weaken the barrier just a little. Give Gojo a chance to prove himself. You didn’t know whether you wanted him as your husband though. It was still too soon to decide and there were wounds that would take years to heal. There were many unanswered questions but all of that could wait a month. You were not that oblivious, you could see the tiredness and lack of sleep on his face and you knew your son well enough to know that he does not adjust quickly to new environments. You didn’t bring it up and neither did Gojo which made you wonder that maybe he was a good father or at least meant to be one. But a good father is not always a good husband..right?

You walked over to him and put your arm on his shoulder, “You found anything?”. You asked and looked at the two cashmere sweaters in his hand. Gojo had quite an expensive taste when it came to clothing and it reflected in his choices. In the past two hours he had already bought three matching sets of coats for the three of you to wear. You had never seen this cheesy side of Gojo who wanted to wear matching clothes with his family, who wanted to buy every soft toy that he laid his eyes on. Some toys were even bigger than your son but that didn’t stop him.

“I can’t decide. I want both”. He looked at you helplessly. “Can we please get them both?”. He didn’t have to ask you, you thought. It was his money and he could do whatever he wanted but your heart melted a little every time he did.

You chuckled. “Fine. We can”. Gojo smiled widely and asked the sales associate to pack them both. You had lost count of how many clothes you had bought so far as all the shopping bags were sent straight to the car. Gojo was frivolous when it came to shopping but he was not careless. Each item of clothing was carefully examined. He had gotten a list of fabrics from the daddy and me blog that were best suitable for newborns and he would match the composition with that list. If there was even one material that wasn’t in the list, that item was discarded. Gojo had a whole document about color theory and avoided clothes that might induce anxiety in a two month old. You thought it was all a bit too much but Gojo was a bit too much.

Of course you didn’t miss the heart eyes of every female associate that you came across. It didn’t bother you, Gojo was an attractive man. His frame stood out amongst the common people, with towering height and muscular frame he became the center of attraction wherever he went and at this point you were used to it. But today he looked especially handsome. He was clad in all black with black trenchcoat. His snowy white hair swayed with every head turn, his skin glowed with every curve of his smile and his lips had never looked this plump. You shook your head before you could get any further with your imagination. Of course it wasn’t a crime to admire your husband, the father of your child but you were hesitant to admit your attraction.

“What else do we have on the list?”. You asked, looking at Gojo. Somehow between making breakfast and taking care of Keisuke while you got ready, Gojo had made an elaborate list of things he needed to buy. You had painstakingly reminded him Keisuke did not need a mini car at

this age. He could barely sit on his own.

“Before that..”. Gojo trailed off and one of the men brought the same green juice you had this morning in a glass bottle. “..you need this”

You took the bottle in your hand and gave a confused look. “What is this?”.

“It’s good for your anemia. I spoke to Shoko and she suggested this”.

“But..I had it this morning”. You reminded him.

Gojo nodded. “But we have been shopping for the past two hours so drink a little so you don’t get tired”.

You stared at the bottle in your hand and then back at Gojo. He was serious. He was serious about this.You had no defense for this. You were tired and felt a little dizzy. You opened the metal cap and took a sip. It didn’t taste bad but it wasn't something you could drink all day.

"I'm fine Gojo". You rolled your eyes..

"If you say so..Gojo". Gojo smiled and intertwined your hand.

Your breath hitched the moment his fingers locked in with yours. It was so easy. So easy for him to hold your hand like he was the only one who could reach through the walls around you whenever he wanted to. Like the barrier you spent a year building around yourself did not exist for him.

But the reality was different. Much different. Gojo had been debating on reaching out for you the moment the two of you sat in the car. The fleeting touches on shoulder and arm were not enough for him. He had been itching to hold your hand. Sneaking glances between the two of you. He tried multiple times but you turned away to look at a onesie or a chair. Even now, he looked calm on the surface but on the inside he was going insane. He looked like he was staring into a distance but on the inside he was admiring the feeling of your hand in his. He had waited a year for this and now it felt worth all the pain. Your hand felt warm in his, he gave it a light squeeze and when you didn't pull away his knees almost gave up. He didn't want to let it go ever. He looked away from you to hide the red coating his cheeks. He bit his lip to control the smile on his face. He cleared his throat to stop his words from quivering. His body didn’ feel like his own anymore. Blood rushed to his head making him a little dizzy and his heart was thumping loudly. He wanted more..much more but for now he was content with your hand in his.

"We should..umm". You spoke first to diffuse the tension. "...see the crib".

"Right!". Gojo spoke almost immediately and turned towards the store that sold handcrafted cribs. Neither of you spoke on the way to the store. While you were debating your attraction to him, Gojo was going crazy over every single thing, the smell of your perfume, that one loose strand of hair falling across your cheeks, your lips, your eyes..everything was driving him insane. He smiled to himself, just a week ago he lived in a world without you, a colorless and painfull world, and now you were here. Even if you don’t let him near you, even if he has to live with holding just your hand for the rest of his life, he would live happily.

You walked between rows of exquisite cribs. It was hard to decide on one. You looked at the price tags and before you could even count the zeroes Gojo was already onto the next one.

“This one is made from ebony and is lined with fine silk curtains. It comes with a built-in baby monitor. All handcrafted with gold inlay and one of the ten pieces available worldwide”. The associate beamned proudly.

You chewed your bottom lip and looked at the crib. It was beautiful and sturdy but something felt off.

“Do you like it?”. Gojo asked. He could read your face and knew that you were doubtful about this one.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful but I can’t imagine Keisuke in this”. You looked up at him.

Gojo smiled. “Me neither. Let’s look at some more”.

You nodded and followed him.

The associate guided you towards another and then another but for some reason none of them seemed like the right one. You felt guilty about turning down and you could see the disappointment in the associate’s face each time you turned down a crib.

"This would be perfect for your baby. It's handmade in Italy and comes in with a built-in temperature sensor. It has a hidden camera in all four corners and the surface is coated with white gold to give a calming appearance".

You looked at the crib, it was similar to the one you had in the village except that one was not coated with gold. You walked towards it and kept your hand on the railing, it felt strong and sturdy.

The associate smiled and stood on the other side. "It also comes with a fine Muslin curtains on the inside for night time and it can withstand a total of 120 kg"

Gojo didn't pay attention to the associate. He stood next to you and kept his hand on yours over the railing. "Do you like it?". He asked, looking at you. He didn't care how fancy or hi-tech the crib was. Your opinion is all that mattered to him..as for security Gojo knew that he can take care of it.

You smiled and looked up at him. "I like this one. What about you?".

"I like it too". He smiled back and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

The sales associate visibly relaxed. "Then should we finalize this?".

Gojo nodded. "Yes".

The car ride home was tiring. It was almost lunch time and you were getting drowsy. Unlike before, You and Gojo sat in the middle, holding hands. Gojo wasn’t doing any better. After the tiring night and busy morning, all he wanted to do now was hold you and sleep. He loved Keisuke, he truly did but at times like this he wished that he could have gotten more time with you. Just you and him.

“Y/n..”. Gojo whispered.

“Yes?”. You turned towards him.

“Should we…”. He hesitated.“…..Nevermind”. He turned away.

“Satoru..what is it?”. You tried to read his face to understand what he wanted to say. After everything that he has done, why would he hesitate now?

“Should we..I mean..Can we get a nanny for Keisuke?”. Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks.

You nodded your head and averted your gaze. “I can take care of him on my own. I know it’s a lot but you don’t have to help if you don’t want to”. You said, looking out now.

Gojo immediately realized his mistake. He turned completely towards you and took both of your hands in his’. “No love. I didn’t mean it like that”.

You looked down at his hands and then up at him. “What did you mean then?”.

“I meant... A lot has happened y/n and I want us to spend some time together. I want to know everything that’s going on in your head other than Keisuke. I want to know about so many things”. Gojo gave your hand a light squeeze.

You didn't expect this. What was he up to now? You gave him a short smile. “You can ask me whatever you want to know about”.

Gojo smiled and shook his head. At times it was adorable how clueless you could get. “I mean..I want to take you out to dinner and spend some time with you”.

Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t know what to say. “I..I don’t think we need to spend any time together. After all, we are only together because of Keisuke right?”.

Gojo stayed silent for a few seconds and then he smiled. “No. I told you that I want both you and Keisuke in my life. You mean more to me than just the mother of my child. You are my love y/n and I don’t want you to forget that..ever”. Your words had left an ache in his chest but he didn’t care.

You pressed your lips together and looked down. “I..I’ll need time to think about it”.

“Take your time. I am not going anywhere”. Gojo smiled and sat back with a sad smile.

You turned away to look outside. You couldn’t face him. He sat back and faced the other side. He knew he deserved all your hatred but it still hurt so much. The pain spread from his chest to his arms and legs. His whole body felt numb. He looked at a couple walking outside and thought to himself, if only he had not left you ever, if only he would have shown up that night in the park, if only he would have stayed back that day, then maybe it could have been you and him. If the gods were to come down to ask him for all his wealth and power in return for a happy life with you, he would take it in a heartbeat.

-X-

“Where is Satoru?!”. Yuri demanded as she stormed into the private wing of the mansion.

“He has gone out”. Jerry replied and stood sternly in front of her, preventing her from proceeding any further.

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “I need to get a file from his room”.

“I am sorry but no one is allowed beyond this point”. Jerry smiled. It was true. No one other than Jerry and few other maids were allowed beyond the lobby in your and Gojo’s absence.

“I am not just another person around the house Jerry. I am his family”. Yuri tried to reason.

Jerry gave a polite smile. It was not in his nature to be crass to people in the house and neither did he think he had ever hated anyone. But he hated Yuri with every fiber of his being. He was a gentleman, trained to be ready for every situation but somehow Yuri managed to find a way to get on his nerves. He wanted to remind her of her place and tell her that if she had really been his family then she would have the Gojo name but he didn’t say any of the witty insults. Instead he preferred to do it his way. “Mr.Gojo and...Mrs.Gojo would be back shortly, you can visit him then”. He gave another polite smile.

Yuri scoffed.“Jerry..do I need to remind you that until two days ago you were obeying me? Do I need to remind you what happens to those who disobey me?”. Yuri stepped closer to Jerry and pouted mockingly. “Only I can order you-”.

“What’s happening here?” Gojo’s voice rang in the hallway.

Yuri immediately stepped back and had her good girl mask back on. She turned around, smiling with doe eyes to see Gojo walked towards them. Her smile faltered a little when she saw you walking next to him. She wondered how can someone look so sad and angry all the time when they have a man like Gojo next to them?

You let go of Gojo’s hand the moment Yuri turned around but Gojo grabbed it again and held it tighter this time. Gojo didn’t understand why you let go and thought your hand must have slipped because he wasn’t holding it tight enough. Afterall underneath all this he was indeed a simple man who just wanted to hold hands with his wife. He didn’t see things for what they were.

“I just wanted to get the file I gave..y/n last night”. Yuri spoke and looked at you with feigned politeness. She looked in between the two of you and saw the way Gojo had intertwined his hands with yours. Were you that possessive that you had to hold his hand all the time? Or were you jealous of her? Either way, holding hands meant nothing to her.

“It’s in my office. You can take it from there”.

“I need to talk to you Satoru”. Yuri stepped towards Gojo and looked up at him through her lashes.

You bit your lip in frustration. This was annoying. She was annoying. You hated her but you hated Gojo for letting her into his life. Was this your replacement? Just the thought that Gojo relied on someone while you were alone made your blood boil and skin crawl.

Yuri stepped closer to Gojo and fiddled with the buttons of his coat and now there was hardly any distance between them. Gojo frowned and stepped back but she was quick enough to grab his free hand. She pouted, “I didn’t know that and Jerry said that I was not allowed to go to your room..anymore”. She said the last words looking at you through the corner of her eye and smirked a little when she saw your jaw tense.

You yanked your hand away and stormed ahead without waiting for Gojo. You didn’t care how it made you look. You just wanted to be away from her. Your head was spinning and it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

Gojo was surprised by your reaction. It happened suddenly. One moment Yuri was in front of him and the next you had waked out. Did he do something? Were you mad at him?Was this about the nanny ?He ignored everyone around him and ran after you.

“Y/n! Wait!”. He called out but you didn’t stop walking.

Gojo jogged ahead and stood in front of you. He dismissed everyone around and looked down at you. You didn’t look up. Gojo cupped your face with both of his hands and titled it upwards. “What happened?”. Gojo was panicking on the inside. The last thing he wanted to do now was hurt you more than he already had.

You gritted your teeth. Did he really not know or was he playing dumb? You yanked his hand away, “Nothing”, you said sternly and walked away but Gojo followed you around.

“Are you mad at me?”. Gojo asked with a frown on his face.

You stayed silent and turned around the corner to enter the bedroom.

“Y/n look at me!”. He pleaded.

You stayed silent and made your way to the bed where Keisuke was sleeping peacefully surrounded by his toys. The help in charge of looking after him bowed and took her leave leaving only you and Gojo in the room. You walked to the closet and Gojo followed you. “Is this about the nanny?”.

“No”. You took your coat off and tossed it on a bench. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves but nothing helped.

“What did I do?”. Gojo asked as he took his coat off too.

“Nothing”. You said and walked out with Gojo still following you around.

Keisuke was sleeping peacefully in the center of the bed, surrounded by pillows. You tucked the sides of the blanket. You caressed his cheeks softly and kissed his forehead.

Gojo couldn’t focus on anything. He felt like he was having another panic attack. He was growing restless. Why won’t you look at him? Why were you running away from him? What did he do? Were you going to leave him again?

“Are you mad at me?”. He pleaded quietly.

“Satoru, I am not mad at you”. You spoke softly and stood up to make your way to the bathroom.

Gojo followed you, “Yes you are. Did I do something? I..I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. If it's about the nanny then we don't have to get one”. Gojo frowned. His heart was beating rapidly. The sudden shift in your behavior worried him. Was it because he held your hand? Did he do too much or did he not do enough? He didn’t know. All he knew was that something happened and now you were upset. He stood behind you and looked at you through the mirror.

“Please…just..talk to me”.

You looked at his reflection in the mirror and your breath hitched when you saw the faint tears lining his lash line. Was he..was he crying? You were upset but you didn’t mean to hurt him.

“Please…tell me what happened”. Gojo took a step towards you and now stood directly behind you. You could feel his coat brushing against the back of your arms.

Your gaze softened as you witnessed his fragility and it shook your walls. Maybe he wasn’t the big bad wolf you thought him to be.

“Don’t run away from me”. Gojo spoke with his eyes closed. “Yell at me or hit me, I don’t care but...never run away from me”. His voice quivered. His hands were trembling by your side. He was scared.

You were so angry that you wanted to cry. You were angry at yourself for feeling this way. If you didn’t love him then you shouldn’t be feeling this. If he loved you then how could he let another woman get near him? Did she mean more than you did? Why did you care about it so much? It was all too frustrating. You turned towards him but refused to look up at him. The distance or the lack of it, made your heart race and your thoughts made your head spin.

Gojo looked down at you. He knew you. He knew that when you were upset you refused to look at anyone. He knew that he had hurt you somehow. He kneeled in front of you and held both of your hands.

You heat shot up and saw his teary eyes staring at you. “Satoru..”. You said bleakly.

“What happened? What did I do?”. Gojo whispered.

You took a deep breath. “I don’t want..”. You sighed. “I don’t know what your relationship is with Yuri but I don’t want her to be anywhere near me or Keisuke”.

Gojo frowned. Why were you talking about Yuri now? Did she do something? Did she say something? You and Keisuke? “There is no you and Keisuke…”. Gojo said, eyes scanning every inch of your face.

You frowned.”What-”

“It’s us. You, me and Keisuke. Don’t..separate me…not yet at least”. Gojo cupped your cheeks. “I promise you, she will never come near us ever again”.

Your heart skipped a beat. You could see that he meant every word he said.In that moment you felt the love seep through the cracks of the wall you spent a year building. You smiled and nodded your head.

“Let’s go and wake up our baby now”. Gojo smiled sadly.

You followed him out but deep inside you felt guilty for telling him what to do when you weren’t even sure if you’ll be with him in a few weeks.

You nudged him to sit on the bed. He didn’t let go of your hand but leaned down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s cheeks. His cheeks jiggled when Gojo pulled away,making you chuckle. “How can someone be this adorable”. Gojo whispered.

You shrugged. “You know..”. You said looking at Keisuke. “I was so mad when he was born because he looked so much like you”.

Gojo chuckled. “He does!. Doesn’t he? I didn’t want to brag about it but now I can”.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “I just hope he doesn’t get your personality”.

“What’s wrong with it?”. Gojo pouted.

“I can only deal with one clingy child!”. You laughed.

Gojo smiled. “Y/n….”

“Yeah?”.

Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks,”About Yuri…. She means nothing. If you don’t want her around then she won’t be around”.

You smiled. It did feel better to know that even if you got together a day ago Gojo still prioritized your happiness and wants. “Thank You”. You gave his hand a squeeze.

Gojo pouted. “You insult me by saying that. So don’t do that”.

You giggled and shook your head. Keisuke cooed in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. “Look who’s up! My baby woke up! You missed me?!”. Your eyes widened and you spoke in your baby voice.

He looked at you with all the love in his eyes. You were smiling gently, a strand of your hair fell softly across your cheek but you didn’t notice it. Your gaze fixed on your baby. Gojo could feel his heart turn into a jelly. He could just stare at you being you all day. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn’t want to lose you. He would rather die in this moment than see you walk away from him. His life wasn’t his anymore, it was yours. His love was yours. His happiness was yours.

Yuri stood there for the longest time,paralyzed,frozen in the moment, stunned, everyone left one by one. Gojo didn’t bother stopping for a second to talk to her. She had never been treated like this before. Ever. It hurt her heart but it hurt her pride more. The look on your face was ingrained in her mind. She turned around to ask for someone but everyone had left. She sighed and made her way to Gojo’s office to take the file she needed. She smirked thinking how Gojo was playing the part of a doting husband but a Tiger never loses its stripes. Soon he would be bored of the redundant domestic life and would be back to his old self. But you, you had to be dealt with as soon as possible and Yuri knew just what to do.

-X-

You stood next to Gojo and watched the men set up the crib right next to your side of the bed. Both of you were unsure about letting Keisuke sleep alone in another room. There were many reasons behind your hesitation, safety, attachment but above all you weren’t sure if you could stay in the room with Gojo all alone.

Though Gojo didn’t share your third problem he shared the first two. By now he was used to Keisuke’s sleep cycle and surprisingly woke up seconds before he did and rocked him back to sleep. He didn’t mind doing this at all. In fact he was proud of it. Everytime Keisuke fell asleep on his shoulder his heart healed a little. The little drool droplet staining his t-shirt reminded him that he was a father now. Gojo had spent countless sleepless nights the past year but these were the best kind. The kind that he wanted. He had learnt a lot in the past few days, like Keisuke needed Mr.Carrot everytime he was being fed. He did not like being held in his left arm. He loved playing with your locket or your hair. He liked his blue sock more than his red sock and his favorite jumper was the one that you had knitted for him.

There were things that he picked up about you too. Somehow you could differentiate between a hungry cry and an irritated cry. You were still shy while feeding him, which Gojo didn’t understand. You always get tired after feeding him and at that time it’s best to let you sleep for a while. You had to take your medication twice a day at 11AM and 7PM. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes everytime he played with Keisuke. Your favorite word to call Keisuke was “munchkin” and Gojo knew, with all his heart, that you liked holding his hand even if you’d never initiate it. He looked over to you and then intertwined his left hand with yours. He could see the corner of your lips curl up and smiled to himself.

“It’s done sir”. The manager that came along spoke with a wide smile.

Both you and Gojo walked over and inspected the newly built crib. It was sturdy and comfortable. You connected your phone to the built-in camera and were quite satisfied with the security system. While Gojo thanked the men, you stared at the crib and couldn’t help but think about the empty one sitting in your old apartment. Amidst all this you had forgotten about that.

“Everything okay?”. Gojo asked as he walked over to you.

You nodded your head but your eyes were fixed on the crib.

“If you don’t like it we can get another one”. Gojo said. Your face was hard to read at times like this. It scared him.

You shook your head and smiled at him. “It’s nice. Bit too big for him but it’s perfect”.

Gojo smiled hesitantly. “It’s big enough for the two of you”.

You chuckled. “For now let’s see if he likes it”.

Gojo tried to put Keisuke down in the crib but Keisuke gripped his hair making Gojo wince a little. You walked over and tried to take Keisuke out of his hand but he wouldn’t let go of Gojo’s hair.

“Let Satoru go, baby”. You took Keisuke in your arms but he refused to let go of Gojo’s hair so now Gojo stood next to you with his head bowed down as Keisuke giggled. “This tiny devil. Where does he get his strength from?”. You muttered as you tried to open his fist wrapped around Gojo’s hair.

Gojo chuckled as he winced. He was having just as much fun with this as Keisuke.

“Stop laughing Satoru!”. You warned but couldn’t control your own laughter as the father son duo bursted out laughing harder. “Stop! What do I do with the two of you?!”. You groaned but they started laughing harder. It was annoying knowing that even though you were stronger than Keisuke, he was a baby and no matter how hard you try you could never show the full extent of your strength. You wondered how Gojo found this amusing given that he was now bent down to your height and you were sure his back hurt.

Gojo’s neck hurt but Keisuke’s giggled mixed with your annoyed laugh was worth the pain. He stepped forward to make it easier for you to hold Keisuke and untangle his hand, unintentionally caging you between his body and the crib. His hands rested on the railing on either side and Keisuke was only pulling him closer. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was so close to you. He felt like a teenage boy being in close proximity to his crush.

Keisuke let go of his hair when you tickled him. Gojo stood up straight with a heavy sigh and your mouth hung open when you saw his flushed face.

“Oh no”. You frowned. “Did it hurt a lot?”. You said and started rubbing the spot behind his ear where Keisuke had his death grip. “Ahh it must have hurt”.

“I’m fine, y/n”. Gojo smiled and bent down with his hands still by your side and smiled at you. “I am perfectly fine”. He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You bit your lip and turned around to face the crib and gently put Keisuke inside. Gojo pulled out his polaroid camera from the bedside drawer and stood next to you. He focused the camera on Keisuke and clicked his photo. “His first time in his new crib”.

Gojo had been taking pictures of you and Keisuke ever since your first day. You didn’t mind him doing that. It made him happy. You bit your lip nervously contemplating your intentions. But looking at Gojo smiling widely at the photo and then crouching down to show Keisuke his photo made all your doubts disappear.

“Satoru..”. You spoke and rested your hand on the railing.

“Yes?”. Gojo looked up at you and then stood up.

“Do you..”. You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you want to see ..ummm..photos?”.

Gojo stared blankly at you. “Which photos?”.

“Mine and Keisuke’s..I mean when I was..you know..carrying him?”.

Gojo’s silence made you question everything you just said. But then he smiled, “Yes! Yes I do! Can we see them now?! Please”. Gojo couldn’t believe it. This was a win for him. You were letting him in your life. Heck yeah he wanted to see the photos!

You chuckled. “Didn’t you have that meeting?”. You remembered Jerry reminding Gojo about a seemingly important meeting he had in the afternoon.

“It can wait!”. Gojo was getting too excited. You chuckled, he was already ready to head out for the meeting as soon as the crib was finished. Now his light blue shirt had a tiny dark blue spit stain on the right shoulder. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair disheveled. He looked more like he was returning from the meeting than heading to one.

“Alright, I’ll get the album”. You shook your head and turned to walk to the closet where you had kept the bag. You were still hesitant about using the clothes he had bought for you and relied on the ones you bought at the mall. It upset Gojo a little but he gave you your space and time.

“There is a whole album?!”. Gojo exclaimed as he followed you.

“Satoru calm down! Sit with Keisuke and I will get it”. You spoke without looking back but you knew Gojo stopped and sat on the bed obediently.

When you walked out with the tiny baby blue album you saw Gojo sitting on the bed with his back resting against the soft backrest and his legs crossed in front, he had a small pout on his face but what made him even more adorable was the fact that he was playing with Mr.Giraffe.

You crawled on your side of the bed and sat next to him. “Ready?”? You asked, keeping the album on your lap.

“Yes!”. Gojo spoke excitedly.

You opened the album and the first photo was of your ultrasound. Gojo slid down and rested his head on your shoulder. You realized that this was the closest you had been with him but you didn’t move him.

Gojo touched the photo and saw a glimpse of you in that room, looking at the screen. He could almost imagine himself to be sitting by your side, seeing your baby for the first time. “He looks like a bean”.

“Yeah he does”. You smiled.

“But I can already tell that he is as handsome as his father”. Gojo said smugly. It was something he would have said had he been there at the moment.

You chuckled and slipped the page. The next photo was of you in front of the mirror with the hem of your tank top lifted up to reveal the almost there baby bump. “This was in three months..almost three months”.

Gojo hummed. You looked beautiful. Tired. Exhausted but beautiful. He could see your eyebags but he could also see your beautiful smile. “You look tired here. Why?”. He asked, staring at the photo.

“I had trouble sleeping those days”. You flipped the page.

Gojo didn’t need to ask why you had trouble sleeping. He knew. He knew very well.

You chuckled looking at the next photo. “Mrs.Itadori insisted that I have a maternity photoshoot. It was so awkward”. You smiled looking at the photos of you taken in the backyard with blue balloons and blue cake.

Gojo smiled. It was adorable. He wished he was there standing behind you. His eyes welled up thinking that no matter how much he tried he could never be there. It was all in the past. He cannot go back in time and sit by your bed when you had the ultrasound, or feel the first kick, or deal with your cravings and morning sickness. He was never going to be there. As you flipped through the pages your belly grew and so did your smile. Gojo’s heart felt lighter knowing that you were happy. Some photos were taken candidly when you were working at the snack bar and others were taken against the light yellow wall of your living room.

As you showed him the last photo of you holding Keisuke in your arms in the hospital, Gojo felt like he was witnessing it firsthand. He felt like he was the one standing behind the camera. But he knew that at that time, in that instant he was far away from you. He stared at the photo blanky and felt guilty, guilty for not being there to hold your hand, guilty for not being there to wipe the sweat off your face, guilty for not sitting by your side and listening to every curse word you threw at him.

You could sense his body tensing at each photo and you wondered if you had done the right thing. But sooner or later you had to show him these.

"Are you okay?". You asked, looking sideways.

Gojo rested his chin on your shoulder and smiled widely. "You are a beautiful mother".

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?". You asked.

Gojo held your eye contact and smirked. "I don't want to go".

"Satoru..you should go". You spoke softly.

Gojo held your hand instead and pouted. It made you smile how similar this needy face was to the one in the crib. "Please don't make me go".

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back". You raised an eyebrow and hoped that your reason falls on the smarter part of his brain.

"But if I don't go at all then-".

"Satoru!".

Gojo groaned and got out of the bed. He leaned over the crib and smiled at Keisuke. "Your mom is a meanie". He scrunched his nose and turned to walk towards the door where his coat hung neatly on the stand.

You scoffed. "Ouch. Are you taking it to him now?". Your gaze followed him as he walked over to the stand.

"Someone should listen to me". Gojo winked as he put on the coat.

"Have a good time".

Gojo chuckled and walked out of the bedroom.

You sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the crib. "I'm not a meanie".

Keisuke blew a raspberry and you got your answer. He was your adorable munchkin but he was Gojo's little devil.

-X-

Gojo walked through the marble hallway, adjusting his Gojo clan cufflinks. Everyone moved out of his way and he didn't notice how many doors opened for him. You were right, the sooner he is done with this the sooner he will get to go back to you. But every second away from you seemed like a wasted time. His heart was hardly at peace. He was also excited. Excited to finally sleep next to you. Maybe you'll let him hold you. He blushed slightly thinking about waking up tomorrow with you in his arms. Men stiffened when he walked past not knowing that once called as the ice Prince was now gushing on the inside.

He walked into his chamber. It was different from his formal office. It was made entirely out of white marble with black carpet covering every inch of the flood. Gojo's trusted men stood on either side of the room. These men were the ones who handled various aspects of his clan business. Some managed exports. Some managed casinos. Some managed real estate. They all reported to him twice a week.

Today was going to be a long day. Gojo had to take care of many things which included administering justice over those who hurt his business. He walked over to his chair or as others referred to as his throne and sat down. His men sat in their respective chairs lined on either side of his'.

"Start". Gojo said. His face, devoid of any expression or emotions.

"Sir". One of the men stood up and bowed down to him. "I will be sending my men to vacate the village for our new factory. It will be done by this weekend but I need more manpower".

Gojo started at the man. "Leave it. We don't need to make that factory anymore".

"But sir we had promised Mr.Ian the partnership. He had invested 120 million and now he is asking about the work".

Gojo knew it was the same village where he had met you. If he goes ahead with the plan then it would crush your heart but moreover it would be unfair to people who take care of you. He wanted to thank them the best way possible and maybe this was his chance to do so.

Gojo's gaze sent a chill down the man's spine. "Pay him double and tell him that I changed my mind. If he creates any more problems then set up a meeting with me".

The man smiled politely and bowed down. "Yes, Sir".

"Next". Gojo said, taking a sip of his tea.

Yuta stood up and bowed down. But before he could speak the doors opened. Everyone turned towards the door and shifted slightly in their seats as Yuri walked in wearing a form fitting red dress with a slit so high that it almost reached her waist. The sweetheart neckline plunged deep enough that left little to imagination. Her heels clicked on the floor as she smiled sweetly looking at the only man she wore the dress for.

"Hello, Satoru". He spoke softly as she bent down to kiss his ring.

Gojo gulped harshly. He felt irritated in her presence. He felt like the closer she was to him the farther you'd go away from him and he didn't want that. "What are you doing here?". He asked coldly.

Yuri's smile faltered. Gojo was never cold to her. Not this cold anyway..

"I came to attend the meeting". Yuri smiled.

"You are not required here".

"Oh come on Satoru. Only because I am a little late that doesn't mean-".

Before Yuri could finish what she was saying, Gojo stood up, making her take a few steps back. All the men stood up immediately.

"Get out now!". Gojo warned. "Let me make it clear to everyone". Gojo spoke, looking straight at Yuri but his message was for everyone. "Yuri… is not allowed on this estate anymore. Her work is limited to the office. Am I clear?".

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. "Is this because of her? God I can't believe she could be so jealous! Did you forget that I was there with you when you thought that she was dead! God! That fucking bi-"

Yuri's words died down in her throat as her eyes focused on the gun pointed at her. "I dare you to finish that sentence". Gojo had a devilish grin on his face. His insanity reflecting in his eyes. He didn't care. He was insane, he knew that. He knew that he would pull the trigger without a second thought if Yuri, or anyone dared insult you.

Tears rolled down Yuri's cheeks. This was insulting…heartbreaking. "Sa..Satoru".

"I asked, am I clear?!". Gojo yelled, loud enough for the security outside to hear.

The guards immediately marched in and stood around her.

"Escort Ms.Yuri out and make sure she doesn't step foot in this estate again!".

Yuri watched in horror as the guard stood between her and Gojo. She turned around without any resistance but held her head high as she walked out.

Gojo sat down and gulped down the glass of water kept on the table. He couldn't believe Yuri would do something like this when he had told her not to show up at the estate under any circumstances. She defied his orders and risked his marriage. What if you would have seen her here, dressed like that? Behaving like that? Gojo couldn't risk it. He immediately picked up his phone and opened the app which showed the video from his bedroom. He was glad he had gotten cameras installed in the bedroom the day the two of you went out. He smiled gently when he saw that you were playing with Keisuke. You were fine. There was no way you could have seen her.

He calmed himself down and took another sip of his tea.

"Where were we?". He asked looking at Yuta and continued the work.

The meeting was going on for longer than he had thought. He was tired and exhausted. His head was hurting listening to his men argue over some petty thing. He knew that sometimes it was necessary to let men fight. But he was getting sick of the same he said-she said.

"Enough!". He yelled. The men stopped arguing and shared a look of fear. "Now you..". Gojo pointed to the man on his right. "Pay him back the money you borrowed!".

The man stepped forward with tears in his eyes and bowed down. "I can't. I need more time".

Gojo leaned back. "You promised him money in six weeks so you will pay him back".

"I can't. Sir, my wife just gave birth and both my daughter and wife are admitted in hospital. I need money for their bills. Just 6 more weeks and I promise I will pay him back".

Gojo contemplated for a while. “I will pay him back on your behalf and you have 6 months to pay me back”. Gojo said calmly.

The man had tears in his eyes and bowed down to thank him. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”.

Gojo smiled warmly. This was the last meeting of the day. He checked his watch, it was already 10 PM. He got up and dismissed everyone. He was tired and could feel his body giving up. He needed sleep.

-X-

Groggily he made his way to his..your bedroom. He struggled to keep his eyes open and mind focused. All the work that he had kept aside for the past weeks hit him like a tidal wave. Even in the state of tiredness he still remembered the album you showed him. He smiled to himself. He didn’t tell you but a part of him broke at the thought of not being there when his son was born. Regardless, he had time now. Time to heal your wounds and save his life.

He entered the dim room and squinted his eyes to see clearly. Were you asleep already? He sighed and slowly made his way into the room.

“Satoru?”.

His head turned in the direction of your voice and saw you slowly get up from the bed. “Hey”.

You got off from the bed and made your way to where he was standing.

“It’s alright. Please go back to sleep”. Gojo whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up”.

You chuckled as you subbed your eye. “It’s alright. I just put Keisuke to sleep”. You looked up and saw the pair of tired eyes looking down at you. “You look tired, Rough day?”.

Gojo nodded, he held your hand and shook then gently. “Rough day”.

“Did you eat dinner?”.

Gojo pondered over your words and then shook his head. “Too tired”.

You sighed. On one hand you knew it was not right for him to skip dinner and on the other hand you could sense his body swaying and struggling to stand up. “Should I make something for you?”.

Gojo shook his head again.

“Do you want to wash up first?”.

Gojo shook his head again.

You smiled to yourself. “Fine, let’s sleep then”.

Gojo followed you back to bed but instead of getting on his side he made his way to the crib. “Did you guys have a good day?”. He asked before leaning down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s head.

“Your son got into a fight with Mr.Giraffe”. You smiled and watched as Gojo walked over and got on his side of the bed. “You’re not going to change?”.

Gojo shook his head as he removed his cufflinks and belt and kept it on his bedside table. Maybe it was the tiredness or maybe it was the raw need to feel you close to him after a day like this but as soon as Gojo got inside the blankets he did not hesitate to pull you closer to him. HIs one hand draped over your waist and the other rested snugly under your head.

You were shocked…surprised…scared…happy. Your mind went from adjusting to the proximity to how big his biceps felt. You were engulfed by his expensive cologne and you were sure you’d smell the same by morning and for some reason it made you happy. Hesitantly you put your arm over him and relaxed into the embrace.

“So tell me, what did Mr.Giraffe do?”. Gojo asked as he rubbed slow circles on your back.

You chuckled and looked at him. “How do you know it was Mr.Giraffe at fault?”.

“My son..our son..at fault? No chance”. Gojo smiled.

“You are going to spoil him, you know that right?”. You corked an eyebrow and whispered in the space between you two.

“I know”.

“Go to sleep Satoru”.

Gojo hummed. He was tired but he didn’t want this moment to end. He had never felt more alive. He had you in his arms. After years that felt like ages. He could feel the softness of your body, your curves, he could smell the sweet mixture of shampoo and bodywash, he could feel the softness of your hair, he could feel you breathing in his arms. He knew that things could take a turn for worse at any moment and he wanted to preserve every second of his moment.

“Satoru?”. You called out again and Gojo snapped out of his thoughts.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet. Keep talking to me..please”.

You smiled and began narrating your boring day to him. He listened intently about Keisuke’s fight with a stuffed giraffe and how he threw a fit when you bathed him and that’s how you got baby shampoo in your eyes. He listened to you rant about how Keisuke refused to wear the yellow onesie and only agreed to wear the red one. He smiled at your frustration with your son and your concern that Gojo's behavior was rubbing off on him. Somewhere between the evening walk in the park and dinner you fell asleep.

Gojo smiled, he didn’t wake you up. He caressed your cheek softly and pressed a featherlight kiss on your cheek. “I love you..so much”. He whispered and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.He watched you breathe softly in his arms, to him you were the embodiment of purity and innocence. A ray of hope in his dark life. He thought how twisted his fate was, but maybe the gods were testing him. Maybe they wanted him to be a better man to deserve an angel like you. But he knew that even if never became the man the gods wanted him to be, he would still fight for you. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was how you clutched his shirt in your sleep. He fell asleep with a smile on his face thinking how both you and Keisuke had this one trait in common.

When you opened your eyes the next morning you realized how tightly Gojo held on to you in his sleep. His shirt crumpled, hair disheveled, mouth agape, soft breaths. You tried to lift his arm but he only pulled you closer. He didn't seem awake at all and yet he didn't want to let you go. You relaxed into his embrace and watched the way his hands wrapped around your waist. You gently ran your finger over his pink and scarred knuckles. Your heart sank thinking how the hands that hold you so delicately and firmly are the same hands that have taken a life. Life of your friend…your mind went back to Hiro. It was still unclear what happened to him. Gojo denied killing him but he didn't give any further explanation. You knew Hiro was dead. You knew it in your heart but you needed to know who killed him..

"Good morning love".

Gojo's raspy voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Good morning". You smiled softly.

"Slept well?". He asked, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

"Mmhmm. You?".

Gojo didn't reply but smiled and nodded his head.

"We should get up". You tried to get up but his strong arms brought you back to your place.

"I don't want to". Gojo groaned.

"Satoru!".

Gojo groaned and huffed for a while before loosening his grip on you.

-X-

You walked in the gardens of the estate with Keisuke in his stroller. Your mind had been stuck on the same question, Who killed Hiro? You wondered if you could take Gojo’s word for it and move on with your life. He has been a good father and great husband to you. You knew you loved and believed him when he told you that he loves you. You knew that he loved Keisuke more than his own life. You knew that nothing could ever harm the two of you as long as you were with Gojo and yet…you wanted to know one thing you didn’t know. Who killed Hiro? The one month mark was closing in on you and so far you had no reason to leave Gojo. You had asked about his character to maids and other workers and they all had good things to say. He helped people who worked for him without expecting anything in return, he wasn’t strict and uptight. He wasn’t cruel. You had no reason to leave him and it terrified you. It was scary to think that you had probably punished a good and innocent man. Took away so many things from him.

You bit your lip nervously and shook your head. You were sure he had killed people. You were sure of that. But you knew he wasn’t like other ordinary men. Nothing about him was ordinary. He was born into this out of the ordinary world and he did what he had to do to survive. But did you have the right to punish him for that?

“Is everything alright Mrs.Gojo?”.

You snapped out of your thoughts and turned back to see Jerry standing with a silver tray. “Oh! Hi Jerry. Yeah everything is fine”.

Jerry studied your face for a minute and then smiled. “Perhaps we should sit and have some tea, the sun is getting high now”.

You looked at the sky and scrunched your nose. Jerry was right. You had lost track of your time and now your morning walk was turning into a noon walk. You nodded and followed Jerry to the Gazebo on the shadier side of the garden.

The two of you sat down and you checked to see that Keisuke had fallen asleep.

“Is there anything bothering you?”. Jerry asked as he poured iced tea in a crystal glass.

You pondered over his question for a bit and instead of answering it, you presented a question of your own. “Jerry, if I ask you something about Satoru, would you be honest with me?”.

“Absolutely!”. Jerry sat down opposite you.

“Even if the answer is unpleasant?”.

Jerry smiled warmly revealing his experience in smile lines and wrinkles. “Especially if the answer is unpleasant. You are his wife and it is my duty to serve you with loyalty and honesty”.

“Can you..I mean..I want to know what happened in the last year with Satoru”.

Jerry’s warm conduct was now shadowed by a dark cloud. It felt like he didn’t want to visit those memories in the past and yet he knew that he had promised you honesty.

“I didn’t know much about what happened whenMaster Gojo was away for those few days but when he returned, he was not the man I knew. For the first few weeks he refused to leave his room. He would barely eat or drink and would stay in his bed all day. Then it started…”. Jerry drifted off.

“What..started?”.You asked hesitantly.

“I think we can call it hallucinations…”.

Gojo opened his phone to check up on you. It was about time for you to return from your morning walks. He frowned when he saw the bedroom empty. His heartbeat picked up and he refreshed the screen again and again. Nothing. He picked up the desk phone,

“Is she back from her walk?”. Gojo asked as soon as the head of security of the estate picked up.

Gojo cold rattling and shuffling. “Is she back or not?!”. He screamed on the phone.

“Np, sir”.

Gojo picked up his jacket and was about to walk out to search for you when he heard the man speak again, “She is in the garden”.

Gojo frowned and sat down. “At this time?”.

“Ye sir, it seems she is having tea with Jerry”.

Gojo’s phone chimed and he picked it up to see a live feed from the gardens. He could feel his pulse slowly return to normal. He smiled at the screen, he could see the stroller and was sure that Keisuke was asleep. He locked the phone and leaned back against his chair. Everything was fine. You were safe.

“..so you’re telling me that he saw ghosts?”. You frowned. Everything that Jerry had told you shook you to the core. Gojo was traumatized. You did that to him.

“Well you are right here so I am sure it was hallucinations”.

You nodded your head slowly, “Is he still seeing his therapist?”.

“No ma’am. He stopped a month before he met you”.

“Why is that?”. You leaned forward and twirled the glass in your hand. The honey coloured liquid inside danced along with the reflecting sunlight like it was enjoying listening to the misfortune of a man.

“His insomnia was in control and he hadn’t had any panic attacks in a while either”.

You hummed and sipped the last of your drinks.

“Ma’am, Mr.Gojo is not as strong as everyone believed him to be”.

“What do you mean?”.

Jerry sighed and gulped hard. “He ..has tried to do things”.

“What things?”. You had a bad feeling about this but you had to know. If it was about Gojo you had to know.

Jerry looked up at you apologetically.

“Please, Jerry. I have to know. You know I do”.

Jerry averted his gaze and nodded his head. “Mr.Gojo, on more than one occasion had tried to take his own life”.

The glass slipped from your hand and landed on the cool terracotta floor. You couldn’t hear the birds chirping or the window blowing. You couldn’t feel the sunlight on your skin and neither did you hear Jerry calling out to you. “Sa…satoru…why..why would he..?”. You looked up at Jerry with tears streaming down your cheek.

"He really thought he had lost you. I have raised him ma'am. I have taken him to school and worked on his school homework. His father, may god rest his soul, was not a kind man. He was so hard on him. Physically and mentally. Master Gojo was so young, too young to understand what's right and wrong. He had made many wrong choices in his life but I had never seen him like that. He didn't shed a tear during his father's funeral but I have heard his cries from the other side of the door everyday for the past one year. His life looks good from the outside but I have seen his life. It's anything but picture perfect".

You sat quietly and listened to Jerry. Everything seemed to make sense now. Gojo was not a perfect man but that doesn't mean he deserved what he got. You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. You wondered the strength it took for him to overcome all that. He didn't know what love was as a child and yet you have seen him give his all to Keisuke.

"He is… truly something then". You chuckled.

"Yes ma'am he is".

"Jerry, would you please take Keisuke back to room. I'd like to see Satoru".

-X-

Gojo checked his watch, it was almost lunch time. He could either have lunch or go back to you early. His priorities were clear. Right now he sat opposite two ruling party leaders talking about the outcome of the coming elections. Elections cost money. Gojo had money.

"Mr.Gojo, we understand that the Gojo group can not openly support us but your contribution matters a lot. We appreciate that our ideas align".

Gojo smiled diplomatically. Gojo hated both sides and he was funding both the parties. Regardless of who comes in power they were all puppets to him anyway.

He thought he heard your voice outside but ignored it. Then he heard it again and now he was sure something was happening on the other side of the door.

He saw a guard walk towards him and raised an eyebrow.

The guard bent down and whispered near his ear, "Mrs.Gojo is here to see you. Should I send her away?".

Gojo smiled, "let her in".

Gojo rested his chin on his knuckles and watched the wooden doors open. The two politicians turned their heads in the direction of his gaze.

You looked confused. Cute. Adorable. Gojo bit his lip looking at your doe eyes trying to take it all in. You looked out of place in this room in your white floral dress and messy bun. You gave him a short smile as you walked with your hands clasped at the front. Gojo smiled back, Letting you know that you were okay.

You bowed at the politicians and now cursed yourself for interrupting his meeting. You looked at him, smiling at you, like everything that happened with him never happened at all. Now you could see the scarred and broken man behind the sweet smile.

"Hi". You spoke and gave Gojo a short wave.

Gojo chuckled. "Hi, how can I help you love?".

"I…". You looked at the two men staring at you wide eyed. "...I can come back later. I don't -".

"Leave". Gojo cut you off.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You pressed your lips together and nodded. You were about to turn around when Gojo stopped you.

"Not you love". He spoke softly. He glared at the two men.."you two, leave".

Your mouth hung open as you watched the two men, whom you were sure you had seen on TV scurry out of the room.

Gojo walked around the table and sat on the edge of the table with his hand crossed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having my wife visit me at work". He spoke in a tone that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You stepped closer to him, hesitantly. "I..I was thinking about what you said. I think we should get a nanny".

Gojo's eyes widened and that surprised you. "It's not that I can't take care of him. I-".

Before you could finish your nervous rant Gojo pulled you closer to him. His hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of the dress.

"We'll get a nanny".

You smiled. He looked just as he did years ago in the office but something was missing.. "You don't wear a tie anymore?". You asked suddenly.

Gojo's smile dropped. "Yeah…I don't feel like wearing it anymore".

You understood the reason and felt stupid for bringing it up. To lighten the mood you resolved to teasing, "Be honest Satoru, is it because you still can't tie it properly?".

Gojo looked at you and then burst out laughing. He pulled closer and now had you standing between his legs. He groaned thinking that you'd leave now and he'd have to go another five hours without you.

"Don't go". Gojo pleaded.

"I live on the other end of the house".

Gojo rested his forehead on your shoulder and gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "Too far".

You chuckled. "I have to go and deal with another clingy baby".

Gojo looked up at the wall clock, "he must be asleep now and he will probably sleep for another 30 minutes".

You were surprised. "Satoru! That's…accurate".

Gojo beamed produly. "I'm a good father right?".

You looked at him, even though his eyes had a hint of sarcasm you knew that deep down he wanted the affirmation. "Yes you are. You're the best dad".

Gojo's smile after hearing your words could only be described as one of a kind.

"The nanny will be here by tomorrow morning. You can meet her before letting her see Keisuke".

You nodded your head. "Satoru…". You asked, absentmindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt.

"Yes, love?".

"I think we should get a family photo. Keisuke is still quite young so it's the right time".

Gojo smiled a wide…devilish smile.

"Nothing too extravagant!!". You protested before Gojo could even say anything.

He laughed at your response. "Alright alright. Tell me what kind you want and we'll get it".

"Good! Now I gotta go to my other baby". You scrunched up your nose and tried to pull away but Gojo won't let you.

"Satoru!". You widened your eyes to warn him.

"I didn't do anything". Gojo shrugged.

"Let me go!". You tried to break free but he didn't budge.

"I'm not stopping you". He said nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. "Do you really want our son to murder Mr.giraffe?".

Gojo hummed. "We can't have that happening".

"Exactly we can't. So let me-".

"But on the other hand-".

"Gojo Satoru!". You warned.

Gojo let you go and gave a 90 degree bow. You chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Focus on your work! I'll see you for dinner!".

"Yes ma'am!". Gojo straightened up with a smirk.

You walked out of the office smiling like you haven't smiled in years.

Gojo turned around as the door closed and got back to his work. But he was not the same person he was moments before. He still wanted to rush through work and run to see you on the other side of the house but before everything, he ordered 30 ties. Truth be told Gojo has been tying his tie since he was five.

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess @ritsatoru @5seos

Thank you guys for supporting the story so far 💖

I love you 💖

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pentuppen · 4 months

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Fics Master List

Figured I might as well put these together all in one post, I didn't realise I'd written so much till I looked back on it But here goes!

Go leave the lovely @adevilyoudo some love for the wonderful dividers (I'm old that may not be the term) they created for the community!

Completed & One Shots

Loose The Arrow - Complete - 50 Chapters - EXPLICIT

Astarion / OC Tav

Astarion has everything they could possibly want, power, prestige and nobody to answer to, but he doesn't have her, the one taken from him by a deadly deal.

An alternate look at a relationship with Ascended Astarion and the Druid Verlaine. Focus' mainly on the relationship after the Elder Brain with flashbacks into moments during their journey.

(Artwork by @raavila)

Mid Winter In Moonrise - One Shot - EXPLICIT

Astarion / Halsin / OC Tav

An off shoot from Loose The Arrow. Astarion is comfortable enough with his and Verlaine's relationship that he broaches the subject of allowing a play partner.

Bitter Suns - One Shot - EXPLICIT

Durge / Gortash

Helika looks upon the new Archduke and wonders why the mangled meat of her mind reaches for memories she cannot grasp. In all the confusion and hidden truths about who she is, why is this man compelling, who is he to her, and why do her knees desire to bend in his presence?

A one shot that was inspired by a piece of art by @feyspeaker. I won't post it here as it was a commission and I don't have permission to post it, but that's just a great excuse to go check out her work to find it. Trust me, you'll know which one it is!!

Whiskey Red - Complete - 2 Chapters - EXPLICIT

Rugan / OC

Rugan finds himself in somewhat dire straits and only one option. Ask an old friend for help! That is if she is still a friend after the last time they spoke three years ago.

Shameless smut that started the famous 'Its just a one shot' whine from me....yeah that didn't work as planned.....

Lilac & Sandalwood - Complete - 2 chapters - EXPLICIT

Astarion / OC Tav

A sweet story concerning Astarion and the statuesque Cerese!

This doesn't have much in the way of plot but plenty of smut. Part of an art exchange with the lovely @alcidence, Cerese is her baby <3

A Snake In The Garden - One shot - EXPLICIT

Rugan / OC

What is a man to do when he lucks into a pass to see one of the most expensive and exotic ladies in Baldurs Gate? Well he damn well goes to see her of course!

Part of an art Exchange with the ever talented @littleplasticrat I think I wrote this while still in denial about writing a long Rugan fic.

Long Fics Still In Progress

Unleashed - 46/50 chapters in - EXPLICIT

Astarion / OC

For the past two years, Astarion has found himself mostly alone after the events of the Elderbrain. Still bound by the sun and dealing with feral spawn, he gets a chance to end the suns tyranny over his life. The only problem is, he has to deal with a Druid.

Nothing I write here will accurately explain this high adventure / angst /smut story. It is Part two of The Game series, (part one Loose The Arrow) and I don't want to give it away by over explaining!

The Devil You Don't - 29/? chapters in - EXPLICIT!

Raphael / Astarion / OC's

After avoiding the devils many attractive traps during her fight against the Absolute, Ren finally succumbs to falling into his clutches in the name of helping a friend. Now she is caught in a maelstrom of toxic relationships, power struggles and finding out just who in the hells she actually is.

A long running fic full of plot as well as some of my more adventurous porn, and somehow I managed to make people fall in love with one of my OC's!

Artworks by @alcidence (left) and @littleplasticrat

The Red Right Hand - 12 / ? Chapters in - EXPLICIT

Rugan / OC

A simple grab gone wrong and a simple life ruined in a single day, leaves Rugan feeling guilty enough to take on a new recruit. Yvie isn't the usual fare to be found in the Zhentarim, but she's got more than enough fire for the older Zhent to want to risk getting burnt!

This is what happens when you keep telling yourself you ARENT going to do a Rugan long fic. Fucking old man is going to kill me!

Please do go check out the artists listed here, their work is impressive and being inspired or seeing other people bring my work to life is just the BEST experience, so go shower them with love and mutuals <3

#fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #ao3 writer #raphael #shameless smut #bg3 #raphael the cambion #astarion #bg3 tav #rugan fuckers unite #baldurs gate 3 rugan #bg3 raphael #bg3 astarion #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #everyone's favourite zhent #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link

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emilyssky · 1 year

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Chapter 12: The Mess We Made

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, choking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."

One year ago today Chan was running around my apartment, anxiously changing from a variety of dress shirts and pants. I remember how big this event was for him and how nervous he was about going for the first time, since back then he only knew the boys just a couple of months. This year things are different.

To say that I was anxious about going is an understatement and thank fucking god that Emma let me borrow one of her dresses cause I probably wouldn't have gone otherwise. Emma grew up in a quite wealthy family, she attended one of the best private schools in the area, and that involved many fancy parties and proms. So she has a good amount of nice, long dresses.

Unlike Emma, I was invited last minute and not by the person I would like, either way, I'm happy that Jeongin invited me the night we hang out. In Seungmin's family apparently, it's a tradition to host a Christmas Eve dinner party, and was a massive deal for him growing up. His nights before Christmas were filled with fancy dresses and suits, people drinking a shit tone of champagne, and 5-star catering employees walking around with plates of foods too small to be that expensive while classical Christmas music played in the background. During the last few years that he's been living on his own, he decided to carry on his family tradition and this year is no exception. I was kind of excited, I have to admit, it's not every day that I get to wear a fancy-ass dress and act like I'm not a broke college student that can barely keep her shit together. The one thing that I was stressing about was the fact that you had to bring a date. Of course, Seungmin told me that it would be completely okay if I show up alone but honestly, it will feel a little pathetic going solo, especially since he's going to be there. A small part of me wanted him to ask me that night. I waited and waited until the second I got out of his car but he never did. Moments from yesterday have been playing through my mind on repeat, like a film from an old movie, bits and pieces of the way he look at me and how the way his smile made the night sky a little brighter. I didn't expect him to call or text but still, since I woke up every time a notification would pop up a part of me hoped it was him. I'm both scared and curious to see how he's gonna act tonight but I know that if he acts like nothing happen it's gonna hurt just a little more this time.

Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix offered to be my dates yet I said no to all three of them. Everyone knows that we're friends and if I showed up with one of them as my date it would mean that I wasn't able to find someone else. Which is true, finding someone who's willing to come as your date to a nice Christmas Eve party is harder than I thought. When Kai offered to be my date after overhearing me complain to Hyunjin about not having one I was extremely reviled. I like Kai, he's pretty chill and I feel like he's going to be a great date, plus everyone knows him. Emma is going with Seungmin obviously, while Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix are all going solo, probably in hopes of getting laid.

I smoothen the front of my dress as we step into the elevator. The dress Emma gave me is breathtaking. It's a deep, dark shade of red that contrasts with the paleness of my skin perfectly and the satin fabric falls loose around my body yet tight enough in the right places in order to hug my curves perfectly. The straps are thin, not offering much support to my breasts, but thankfully Emma and I have similar chests so the cups of the dress are enough. My whole back is bare, the fabric starting from the top of my ass and hitting the ground while the big cut that's starting from the middle of my thigh, exposed almost my whole leg. I kept my makeup natural, letting the dress and the deep red that painted my lips do all the work. On any other occasion, I would've perfectly straightened my hair, but his compliment from last night tickled the side of my brain, so I let my long, thick brown curls fall all over my shoulders and down my back.

I bounced my right leg up and down, the sound of my heels clicking against the floor of the large elevator filling the small space.

"Can't you just relax?" Emma touched up the sides of her nude, glossy lips with the tip of her finger in the elevator mirror. She is dressed in a white, tight, strapless dress that makes her figure look almost fake. The way her boobs are pushed upwards and the way the fabric of the dress is so tight around her waist make her body look incredible, offering her an hourglass shape.

"Yeah, you've been fidgeting the whole way here." Kai adds, leaning against the wall with hands in his pockets. He's wearing a simple black suit with a dark red tie to match my dress, which I find really thoughtful and cute. His dirty blond hair is messily styled, yet somehow he managed to look like a runway model.

"I've never been in anything like this before." I mumble but in reality, that's not the reason I've been on edge since I woke up. It's not the people that are gonna be there, it's not the fancy setting or the nice clothes. It's him. It's the fact that he's going to be there, and the irritating feeling deep inside me that he's not going to be alone.

Kai pushes himself off the wall just as the elevator doors over. "You look stunning, relax." He leans in my way, his tone just a little lower than before.

I exhale, forming a small smile and we exit the elevator.

"It's going to be so much fun!" Emma squeals, fastening her step down the hall. "I'm so excited!"

We reach their door and Emma rings the doorbell. I feel my palms sweating already, my fingers playing with each other nervously. Kai shoots me a glance before resting his hand on my lower back, his fingers brushing my hip.

The door opens.

Seungmin's eyes go wide, the rest of his face staying completely still. "You're kidding." His gaze travels along her body.

Her smile goes wide, her whole face blushing. "You like it?"

He clears his throat. "There are people here." His tone drops so that only we are able to hear him. "So I can't really express myself properly. "

I hold my laugh. They're so freaking cute.

He opens the door further. "Please, come in."

The apartment is brighter than ever, with beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, crystals reflecting the light perfectly down on the crowd of people talking and slow dancing in the middle of the massive living room. All the furniture has been removed, the couch, the armchairs, the tables, everything, leaving the space empty and open. I can count almost 30 people here, and I can't help but let my eyes stare in awe at all the beautiful dresses and outfits. It's like a ball straight out of a movie, with slow music playing in the background, the food, the drinks, and the people, it's incredible.

"Oh, my god baby..." Emma whispers, wrapping her arm around Seungmin as we walk further into the apartment.

"Don't worry, " He says, sensing how nervous all 3 of us suddenly are. "Everyone here is in my inner circle, just close friends and family. All the guys are already here, as well."

Em's feet freeze. "Family?"

A soft smile overtakes Seungmin's lips. "Come with me."

We watch as he drags her further into the crowd, disappearing.

"Well," Kai turns to me. "Shall we go find the others?"

"I'm gonna need a drink first." I chuckle nervously.

Kai looks around, locking eyes with one of the waiters walking slowly between the people, offering them a glass of champagne, and motions for him politely to come our way.

"Champagne?" The blond waiter offers with a sweet smile.

I curl my fingers around a glass, lifting it off his tray. "Thank you."

He nods politely and walks away.

"I see them," Kai says close to my ear. "Let's go."

He takes my hand in his, leading the way to the end of the living room, near the massive windows, that offered an incredible view of the night city. All of them are standing there in a circle talking amongst themselves. Chan's eyes spot us and I can't help but smile at his expression.

"No way." He shakes his head, not believing his eyes. His comment makes everyone's head snap in our direction.

"Holy shit!" Hyunjin's eyes go wide, the glass of champagne freezing inches away from his mouth.

"What can I say?" Kai lifts his free hand, shrugging with a smug expression. " I might have the hottest date in the whole party."

"Shut up." I roll my eyes, his comment making heat spread all over my face.

Chan inches forward, looking at me from head to toe. "You look unreal." He takes my hand, pulling me away from Kai's grip and spinning me into a circle. "Wow."

I can't help but giggle a little.

"No seriously," Hyunjin moves to stand next to Chan. "You look hot as fuck."

"Thank you guys." I nod at both of them, appreciating the way they always go out of their way to make me feel good about myself. "You don't look but yourselves."

Chan adjusts his black tie, making it a little tighter around his neck before rolling up the sleeves of his perfectly straight, white dress shirt, that I ironed a few hours ago after much begging from his part. With black dress pants, black boots, and his dark, messy curls styled just enough to look good but not preppy, he looks shockingly different. Hyunjin wears a similar outfit to Chan and with a face like his and the way his long, blonde hair falls just above his shoulders, he looks like a prince. I move my gaze behind them, noticing Jisung, Jeongin, and Changbin with Lia, who's apparently the only one with a date. I quickly realize that Minho and Felix are missing.

"Where's Felix and Minho?" I ask them as casually as I can.

I notice the small glance that they exchange before Hyunjin speaks up. "Smoke break." I simply nod and move to greet the rest of them.

"Oh, my gosh you look stunning!" I give her a quick hug.

She tugs her hair behind her ear, shyly. "Thank you, you look amazing too."

"Green?" I lift my eyebrow at Changbin's dark green suit.

"I don't like boring outfits." He smirks. "The room is full of them."

"Shut up, Shrek." Jisung rolls his eyes at his friend, pulling me into a hug.

"Hey," I mumble with a soft smile in the small space between his shoulder and his neck.

"I was waiting for you." He says.

"Too many people?"

He scoffs a laugh. "Too many fancy, important people and not enough alcohol to get me though. There are some people connected to my family here as well and let's say that I would rather not talk to them at all. " He explains.

I remember when Minho explained to me everything about Jisung's past and how he and Seungmin are connected but I mask my face and pretended not to know anything. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you another time."

"Okay." I touch his shoulder sympathetically.

"Hello, gorgeous." Jeongin pulls me in a small, side hug, his cologne hitting my nose immediately.

"Hi." I smile at his compliment.

"So you found a date?" He nods Kai's way, who's chatting with Chan and Hyunjin.

"More like the date found me." I shrug.

He takes a sip of his champagne. "Bummer."

"Bummer?" I lift my eyebrows. "Why?"

"I would've asked you if I knew you were available." He boldly states, his face natural and his eyes confident.

"What made you think I wasn't available when you told me about the party?" I reply, mirroring his confidence.

His face breaks into a smile, dropping his head a little lower. "Were you?"

His question almost feels challenging and makes me wonder if he knows anything about me and Minho.

I look away, into the crowd. "Jeongin, if you had asked me, I would've said yes." I reply instead.

I feel him taking a step forward. "Well, I'll remember that moving forward."

I don't know what to do or say besides simply smiling at him, his forceful approach taking me by surprise.

He lifts his half-empty glass of champagne towards me and I do the same, before drowning the remains of the bubbly liquid.

"May I steal her for a few minutes?" I feel Kai's hand resting on my back.

Jeongin brings his lips into a tight smile. "Of course, she's your date after all."

I let Kai lead me to the dance floor where a good amount of couples are slow dancing to a beautiful melody coming from the speakers. I place my hand comfortably on his shoulder and wrap the other one around his before we start swinging to the music.

"So," He drags the word. "You're switching to one of his best friends?"

I look at him confused. "What?"

"I thought Minho was the one you were going after." He lets go of my waist, spinning me 2 times before settling back into our previous position.

"I'm not 'going after' anyone." I straighten my back. "And to answer your question; no. Minho wasn't one."

"And Jeongin is?" He presses but not at all in a rude or angry way. His tone is light and conversational.

"Can't a girl just have fun?" I almost whine out loud.

"Oh, trust me you can have fun." He chuckles charmingly. "If having 3 guys running after you is your idea of fun."

Now it's my turn to chuckle. "That's not true."

He clears his throat. "You're right, 4."

I narrow my eyes at his hint of a smile. " I know I'm not your type."

He tightens his grip, pulling a little closer, my body pressing onto his. "No, you're not. But I would never say no to you."

That, I've known for a while. Chan had told me that Kai was interested in me months ago, yet despite him being breathtakingly handsome and a really nice guy, I wasn't ready to move on. I wasn't ready to hook up or mess around cause if I would have gotten involved with him, that's all our relationship would be.

"Ah," He purrs near my ear. "And that's the reason you would say no, to both me and Jeongin." I feel his head nod in the opposite direction, his words making my body freeze on his hands. "Don't look, it will make it too obvious."

I wanna look. I wanna look so bad. The desire to simply see him is so intense that it scares me and makes me feel like an addict wanting desperately to get his hit.

"Is he looking?" I whisper in his ear, even though I know Minho can't possibly hear me, and even though I somehow can feel his eyes burning at my exposed back.

"Yep. Intensely, may I add."

I don't move a muscle. "Is he alone?" I asked the question that's been eating me alive.

"Nope."

I exhale, and I try to stay relaxed, I try to keep dancing, pretending to be unbothered by his presence and honestly, my curiosity would have gotten the best of me if Seungmin's voice didn't echo through the speaker, interrupting the music and dancing.

"First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you that decided to spend Christmas Eve here." He says into the mic, standing on top of the first few steps of their huge staircase, getting everyone's attention. Kai forces our movements to a halt but still keeps a hand on my waist as we stand, facing Seungmin just like everyone.

"This gathering means so much to me, and I'm really happy that I get to host my own version of my family's tradition along with all the people that matter most to me."

It's eating me up inside, an uncontrollable craving and a tightness in my chest. Just a look, a tiny little glance to satisfy my curiosity.

"To my bandmates, to my friends, to my family, and to my lovely girl." He lifts his glass and the whole room does the same. Emma stands in front of him, smiling like I've never seen her before.

Just a peek.

I turn my head to the right, slightly and carefully, with my glass lifted towards Seungmin but the rest of his speech fades into background noise the minute my eyes lock with his. I swear to god, if Kai wasn't holding my waist, my knees would have bugled.

There he was, standing a few meters away, looking simply breathtaking. And already looking at me. Looking at me with a spark in his eyes, a force, a look so dark that made my throat dry, and I couldn't look away, I couldn't take my eyes off him. He looks, unlike anything I've seen him before. He's dressed in black dress pants that make his thighs look mouthwatering and a simple black dress shirt with the first few buttons open, exposing his wide chest. His hair, for the first time ever, is styled, with the left side slightly pushed back while the right front part of his hair falls perfectly over his eye. He looks so magnetizing that I almost didn't notice the petite blonde clinging to his side, under his arm. Dressed in a black, skintight, long-sleeve dress, with a full face of makeup and full red lips.

He smirks, lifting his glass my way with a challenging nod.

"So please enjoy yourselves tonight, and let's welcome Christmas in the best way possible." I snap my eyes back to Seungmin, finally able to breathe. Everyone starts cheering and clapping and when the music started playing again, everyone went back to either dancing or talking almost themselves while enjoying the incredible food and drinks, but I can't move. Not when my mind is glued to the image of her next to him. Who is she? I've never seen her before.

"Do you want another drink?" Kai asks. "Maybe a stronger one?"

"Yes, please." I breathe, wanting nothing more than to be dragged away from the dance floor, and enjoy a strong gin tonic in the corner, where I can't even see him. I let Kai lead the way, with his hand placed on my lower back. We reach the bar, and spot Felix and Hyunjin talking.

"Y/n!" Felix's eyes widen. "You look incredible." He wraps his arms around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground.

A series of giggles escape me. "Put me down! You're drawing attention."

"Are you enjoying the party?" Hyunjin questions with a lift of his eyebrows and a small knowing smile.

Instead of answering, I lean into the counter closer to the bartender making the drinks. "One gin tonic, please. Strong."

Felix lets out a low whistle. "We'll take that as a no."

"I was enjoying my night just fine." I cross my hands, looking into the distance. They're still on the dance floor, her hands loose around his neck and his holding her waist, like they've never held mine. They move slowly to the music as they chat casually. It's hard to stop my eyes from narrowing at the way his face looks almost relaxed, with a light smile as he speaks.

"Staring at him won't work." Hyunjin jokes, copying my position, arms crossed, back leaning into the table.

Felix lets out a laugh.

"Your drink miss." The bartender pushes the glass my way and I take it in my hands, taking a sip immediately.

"Is something going on that I don't know about?" Felix gives me a look.

"Nope." I shake my head, continuing to sip my drink, not taking my eyes off them.

"Something is definitely going on." Kai copies my position as well.

"You can tell us." Hyunjin adds.

"Nothing's going on." I've drank almost half of my drink already. "And even if there was, I wouldn't tell any of you."

"Excuse me?" Felix says, giving me a glare from head to toe while Hyunjin places a hand over his heart.

"Oh, please!" I roll my eyes at their reactions. "You would run to Chan and give him a full presentation of what I'd said, and you know it."

"That's a lie." Felix points his finger at me. "Your secrets are always safe with us princess."

"Exactly." Hyunjin nods. "Even if it's about fucking one of Chan's best friends"

"It's not like that!" Hyunjin's words make my tone rise, feeling a sudden need to explain myself but they simply laugh. "And besides, Chan's my-" Speaking of the devil Chan makes his way toward us, with his hands casually in his pockets, walking through the crowd like he's 7 feet tall.

"Chan!" I greet him. "Hi."

"Hello, pretty lady." He offers me a broad smile, before turning his attention to Felix and Hyunjin. "I need some help."

"Why? What happened?"

"Seungmin's having some trouble with the cakes." He scratches the back of his neck, a habit of his. "For some reason, they couldn't be delivered here, so someone has to go and get them from the bakery, which closes in approximately," He checks his watch. "19 minutes."

"I'll come. " Felix offers immediately.

"Oh, my god, thanks man." Chan sighs in relief.

"No, problem." He sets his half-empty glass on the table. "We'll finish the conversation later." He sends me a wink.

"What conversation?"

Felix pushes Chan towards the door, chuckling. "Nothing mate, come on let's go."

. . . . . . . . .

I tried sneaking glances as much as I could, whether he was dancing with her, going to get a drink at the bar, or absolutely devouring the mini burgers, and he didn't find my eyes once. Even when he was talking with the rest of the boys and I stood only a few feet away, fully involved in the conversation as well, he never once addressed me. In fact, he didn't even look my way. At all. All night. He smiled and talked, and acted like nothing was going on, like he was fully comfortable with me being almost right next to him. Like nothing had happened. He was simply ignoring me the whole night, so successfully that it made pure rage grow inside me. At the fact that it was so each for him to do so, when I couldn't even breathe properly when he was near, at the way he smiled and talked and danced with her, and most importantly at the way he looked absolutely ravishing. Simply stunning.

My anger was growing and growing each second, each minute, each hour passing and I found myself at the bar more often than I should. The party was beautiful. The decorations, the music, the elegantly dressed people, everything. Kai did dance with me numerous times, and I also danced with Hyunjin and Jisung but at times like these when Kai is somewhere talking or smoking with the boys and Emma is busy playing hostess with Seungmin, I give myself a second to simply do some people watching, and fully take in this beautiful scene unraveling in front of me. Everyone is having a great time, Emma and Seungmin along with Changbin and Lia are currently on the dance floor, and the rest of the boys are chatting and laughing. Every single person in here, has a smile on their face, enjoying the moment, something I can't bring myself to do. Hell, even Minho has a hint of a smile on his face.

I drown my 4th glass of gin and tonic.

"Easy there tiger." Jisung takes the now-empty glass from my hand. "Someone's clearly not having fun."

"I am having fun." I scoff. "In fact, I'm having a great time, this party is amazing." I wave my hand around.

"Yes, it is." He smiles, focusing his eyes on me. "Are you okay, kid?"

It's weird how Jisung can always realize when something's wrong, but then again I don't think that I'm making a good job of hiding it.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask back.

"Sure."

"Do you smoke?"

He blinks at my straightforward question. "Occasionally, yes. Why?"

"Can I have one?"

He blinks again. "Um," Another blink. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Please." I press in a high-pitched tone when he appears to be looking around, probably for Hyunjin.

He sighs but reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

"For an occasional smoker, you sure are prepared." I tease.

He rolls his eyes at me with a smile. "Do you want it or not?" He holds a cigarette between his fingers.

My eyes light up and I immediately take it. "Yes please."

"I'd suggest you go somewhere else to smoke it." He lets his eyes trail around the room once again as if we're dealing right in front of 30 people, placing a lighter in my hands as well.

"Yes, I know." I hide the cigarette inside my palm. "Thanks, Jisung."

He gives me a short nod with a hint of hesitation in his big brown eyes and lets me walk away from him. My legs drag me up the stairs, making a turn to the only room I've ever been in this house. I open the big, glass door and exit the room, walking into the massive balcony. This time I don't climb the stairs to the roof, I walk further into the balcony until I reach the railing. It's a lovely night, perfect for Christmas Eve, the stars and moon lighting up the night sky and blending perfectly with the chilly atmosphere. I shiver, my bare shoulders moving inwards mechanically in an attempt to protect my body from the cold yet I don't wrap my arms around it, instead, I welcome the cold and let it lift the little hairs on my arms and spread goosebumps across my skin. Something about the cold air hitting me, this shivering feeling tingling my back, calms me down. It's like reality showering you in the best way possible, grounding you. I take the cigarette between my teeth, the red of my lips staining the edge and I circle my hand around it, lighting it up. The first inhale hits me hard, reminding me just how much I've missed it; the feeling of the sudden numbness in your brain unraveling and spreading everywhere in your body, and how suddenly with each inhale you feel more and more separated from the world around you. I let the moment sink in in my intoxicated mind, appreciating where I am right now and saving it. I know that my moment is gone when I hear the noise, the footsteps, and the door slamming, and even though I stay still, facing the night sky, hands resting on the railing, it doesn't take longer than 5 seconds to realize that it's him. Maybe it was his sweet vanilla scent mixed with a hint of cigarettes, that filled the air immediately or the way his light, slightly audible breathing sounded somewhat familiar, but I knew.

"Hello, Angel."

"Minho," I simply acknowledge him.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo on your back." He spoke in a low, controlled tone.

The corners of my mouth lift. "I have 5." I stay facing forward, pausing to take another drag of the cigarette and taking my time to exhale the smoke. "And there are many things you don't know about me."

"Like?" He starts walking my way, and I know that he has his hands in his pockets and a small smile is dancing on those beautiful lips, without having to look.

"You'll find out if you stop ignoring me."

My comment forced a chuckle out of him and suddenly he appears to my right with his back resting on the railing, facing me. When I move my eyes from the night sky to look at him, regret showers me from head to toe. I was right about the small smile but definitely not prepared for the way he looks at me through his long lashes. Having not made eye contact for most of the night, being here, and being looked at by him feels like the highlight of my night. And I hate it, almost as much as I hate the way my heart starts beating just a little bit faster.

His fingers come up, snatching the cigarette from between my own in such a swift movement, bringing it to his mouth. "Smoking doesn't look good on you, angel."

I admire how he moves the cigarette to his other hand, the one away from me, taking a drag of it midway and exhaling, and it's honestly crazy how attractive it is to me. "I don't care." I reply, trying to appear unbothered.

"Are you enjoying the dance?" He asks and if I didn't know any better, I would think that he actually cared but I recognize the irony in his voice.

"Of course, I am," I play along. "It's wonderful."

He drops his eyes to the floor. "I think I'm getting pretty good at realizing when you're lying."

My body stiffens. "I'm not lying." The party is wonderful...

"Well, I think you are." His words mix with the smoke as he exhales.

"And what makes you think that?" I further ask, holding eye contact for just a few seconds.

He shrugs. "Maybe it was the quite visible stiffness of your body the whole time, the constant frown that was plastered on those red lips, or the way too much drinking out of discomfort and nervousness. But I think it was probably the fact that you danced only up to 30% of your abilities thanks to that lame excuse of a partner you choose to drag along with you as a date." A small smile threatens to spread on his face, but he contains it.

"None of what you've just said is true," I try to brush him off, forcing myself to act like his words didn't affect me or how it scared me that everything he just said is in fact true. It makes me feel like I can't possibly hide from him, as if he can read me like an open book without even trying. "And don't talk shit about Kai, he's a great date and someone I actually know and have fun with."

His smile widened into a smirk. "Anna and I know each other for quite some time."

I stare into the sky again. "I didn't ask and I don't care."

"You didn't have to, I can see how it's been eating you up inside since you laid eyes on us." The confidence that laces his teasing tone makes me tense up and I feel his gaze on me as he continues.

Us...

"I saw the way you roamed your eyes from her head to her toes every chance you got, probably analyzing everything about her." He blows the last bit of the smoke before pressing the edge of the remaining cigarette on the railing and throwing it away. "It was easy to guess what was going through your mind, " He pushes himself off the railing and moves slowly, almost like a cat, circling around me and leaning closer and closer. "Questions, questions, so many questions, and doubts. I could almost feel you comparing every little thing about her to you." He stops behind me, his chest nearly touching my back yet still knocking the air out of my chest. I swallow hard, feeling his head moving to the side of my face, just above my shoulder.

"And honestly, I don't know what felt more entertaining to me; the fact that I could smell the jealousy out of you or the fact that you actually thought that she stands a chance next to you." He whispers, lips brushing against the cell of my ear and I'm on fire, from head to toe. He's suddenly close, so close, his scent hitting my nose, intoxicating my brain even more and memories of his hands on me and his body pressing against mine begin to dance around my head.

"Minho.." I try my best to sound stable, but my words come out breathy.

He pushes his face further into the curve of my neck, his lips traveling all around, brushing my skin. "What do you want angel?"

Such a dangerous question to ask when I feel like he has my body wrap around his finger without even touching it. "S-stop it. You can't do that."

His low chuckle against my skin sends a wave of vibrations all the way down to my core. "Can't?"

"Yes." I somehow find the strength to push my body away from his and turn to face him, resting my back against the railing for much-needed support. "You've been ignoring me the whole night, and now you wanna come and play games with me? That's not how it works." I cross my arms.

His face is now stripped of any playfulness, his features turning hard as he looks down at me. A moment of silence passes until he decides to speak. "I wasn't ignoring you."

I chuckle lightly. " Yes, you were. Completely."

He bites his bottom lip softly, eyes moving up and down my body fast. "I wasn't ignoring you, " He repeats. "I was trying to contain myself. There's a difference."

I feel my breath shaking at his words, and all I can do is stare at him, no words coming out.

He looks up, inhaling, tongue running over his bottom teeth as he steps forward. "You look fucking exquisite." He drawls. His hands grip the railing tight, trapping me. "My breath was yours the minute I laid eyes on you."

I can only hear my heart drumming against my chest, his words making me freeze. "I don't-"

A noise escapes him, almost like a growl. His nose bumps against mine gently, and his cigarette breath fills the small space between us. "You think I was enjoying watching him have his hands all over you?"

"It sure looked like it. " I whisper, looking up at him.

His eyes are dark, moving everywhere around my face before settling on my lips. "That was the point."

"Why is everything a game to you?" I can't help but whine.

He doesn't answer instead he brushes his lips against mine, taking my words and breath, and flashes me a look. His eyes warning me and asking me at the same time, and in a split second his lips are on mine. His mouth moved with so much power, so much force that it made my grip on the railing tighten as my knees almost gave up. It didn't take long before my mind caught up, making my own lips move against his with the same hunger and he hummed in response, satisfied. His cold hands cupped my jaw as his tongue began brushing aggressively against mine, demanding complete access which I was more than happy to provide. Our mouths danced together in a way that felt almost like a war, biting and sucking, nibbling and pulling, his hand traveled to my hair, grabbing a handful of my dark curls and forcing my head to tilt upwards, breaking the kiss with a choked moan. His mouth traveled to my jaw and down to my neck, leaving wet spots behind and marking my skin softly.

"You have no idea how hard it was for me to contain myself all night," He breaths out. "when all I wanted to do was bend you over and admire how hot the back of that dress would look as I fuck you from behind. "

A sound so desperate and needy ripped through my throat at his words, my body in shock and melting in his hands as he continues to devour my neck and chest, his mouth going everywhere.

"Minho.." I find the strength to whisper.

"Yeah, I know.." He groans against my skin.

"Someone could see us." I add.

He drags his lips from my neck back to my jaw, until his mouth is ghosting over mine again "I know," His eyes are hungry and wild. "don't care though."

I laugh under my breath. "We both know that's a lie."

"A lie?"

"Minho, you don't wanna be seen with me." I shake my head lightly. "Every time we're around people you act like a completely different person."

"It's not that angel." He exhales against my lips, brushing his nose against mine. His hands move slowly, from my jaw down my chest, his rough fingers toy with the thin straps of my dress before traveling down to my exposed cleavage. His eyes meet mine as he drags his fingers in between my breasts, making my nipples harden, the shape of them visible through the thin satin material. His mouth twists when he notices, his lips coming together hard. I feel my breath tremble as his hand passes from my stomach and doesn't stop. I switch my gaze from his hand to his eyes nervously while he stays focused on his movement, with eyebrows frowned. When his fingers brush over my core, I inhale sharply, holding my breath.

"God, it would be so satisfying to see just how wet you are for me right now." He lets out a low groan, smiling.

"I'm not." I swallow, tightening my jaw, looking at him dead in the eye.

His smile turns into a smirk, dark and wicked, that shakes me to my core and awakes a hunger deep inside me, making me wetter than I already was. "Let's check then shall we?"

Before I have any time to protest or do anything, he knocks my left foot with his, making my legs open enough for his hand to creep in from the opening of the dress that exposed my leg from my hip bone all the way down to my ankle.

"Minho!" My voice comes out more like a whine, the end of his name dying in my throat as his fingers waste no time, pulling my underwear to the side.

"Ah, shit." He hums in approval closing his eyes when his finger opens my folds, gently rubbing my clit and letting my wetness soak it. His smile grows as his teeth capture his bottom lip between them. "You're dripping baby."

I place my hands on his chest. "Please, s-stop."

"I don't think you want me to stop. Not when I can so easily do," His middle finger slides inside me, effortlessly. "This."

A moan leaves my lips, my head falling back at the unexpected pleasure.

His finger starts moving, fast and hard, making wet, sinful sounds mixed with my embarrassing whimpering fill the air.

"That's it, baby." He drags the words, in a low tone, attaching his lips once again against my jaw.

"Oh my god," I brokenly say, fisting his shirt. He slides another finger in with absolutely no warning, keeping the same brutally pleasurable pace and I feel my stomach tightening, the pleasure building and building. Everything has faded again, an effect that only he has on me, suddenly it's just me and him and I find myself not caring about where we are or who can see us as I let myself fall apart on his fingers.

His lips find mine, swallowing my gasps, in a sloppy kiss. "You feel so good around my fingers angel." His free hand comes up to cup my jaw, forcing my eyes to him, foreheads touching. "You think you can come for me? Huh?"

The way he speaks, so cockily and confidently, is challenging me and I hate how much the way he teases and handles my body, pushes me closer to the edge. This back-and-forth thing between us, this feeling, this rush of adrenaline that consumes me every time he's around is getting addictive and I want more and more. I want him more and more.

His fingers curled inside me, effortlessly finding that spot, and hitting it repeatedly. "S-shit."

"Found it." He says proudly in my ear, gently biting my earlobe, and if I wasn't currently on the verge of having an orgasm at a balcony, during Seunming's Christmas Eve party, I would have slapped that smirk off his face.

The knot in my stomach tightens, my legs begin to shake, and I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest, heat rising to my face. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing circles over it and the second he applies just the tiniest amount of pressure, I feel the pleasure creeping in.

"Minho, I'm g-gonna.." My orgasm hits me like a wave, my whole body going numb, gasps and moans of his name fall from my lips.

"There we go baby," He groans, connecting his forehead to mine again. "Ride it out." All of his digits move perfectly together, not slowing down even a tiny bit, as I make a mess of them. My eyes stay shut, still unable to breathe while the remains of my high still linger, the bliss still tingling my insides.

When he feels me relax, he pulls his fingers out, letting some of my release wet my inner thighs. I open my eyes slowly meeting his. He's grinning like a satisfied child, that got what he wanted.

"Well," He lifts an eyebrow, bringing his two fingers to his mouth and wrapping his full, pink lips around them, sucking them clean while holding eye contact. "That was lovely."

I blink and I swallow hard, and then blink again. Staring up at him, not really knowing what to say, my mind completely blank. "I- uhm.." I stutter, and it could be my head trying to wrap itself around what just happened or how the moonlight falls on his face perfectly, lighting up his big, brown eyes, but I struggle to form a sentence. His hair, a little messed up, probably from my hands, and his whole face, glowing, making me wish I could take a photo of him in this moment.

"I-I-uhm," He mocks, eyes moving all over my face. "Not knowing what to say; that's the 'Minho effect'. " He shrugs.

His words snap me out of my haze. "God, you're so arrogant." I push at his chest, making him stubble just a step, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I cross my arms, shaking my head at the boy in front of me. It's the second time, I've heard him laugh.

He bounces back to his previous spot, lowering his head a bit to catch my gaze, his eyes dark and beautiful. "Are you obsessed with me yet or should I try harder?"

I roll my eyes, fighting back a small smile, this playful and flirty side of his might be my favorite. It's making me wish we could stay like this forever. So close to each other, so open and relaxed. But sadly the nature of our relationship is nothing like that.

I open my mouth to answer but the shout of my name ripping through the air, makes me freeze.

Hyunjin.

He steps into the balcony, chest rising and falling so hard that he's visibly struggling to breathe. His face is covered with a thin layer of sweat and his hair is messily falling over his face as if he was repeatedly running his hands over them.

"Hyunjin?" My head snaps to him, but it's the look on his face, the panic in his eyes that makes my blood run cold, and my feet to take a step forward.

"We have a problem." He breaths out, hard.

"What is it?" Minhos takes a step forward as well, his body and face shifting completely, hardening, alarmed.

"It's Chan and Felix."

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1wingedtraveler · 2 years

Note

Sub!Scara upset at reader after an argument, so they have hate sex.

Only for him to burst into tears and cry from the overstimulation.

please and thank you. Have a nice day, night, or afternoon. See you next ask.♡

Hellooo!! Im so sorry for the wait😭 I written it so the both mad at each other, i hope you don't mind and it was worth the wait

Scaramouche's spending habits

Scaramouche x dom reader

SMUT, MDNI

Warnings: whipping, brat taming, scara being a bitch, full nelson position, crying, degradation, no pronouns for the reader, pp can be read as strap, overstimulation

Scaramouche always liked to dress nice. More than that, he was pretty up to date to latest male and female fashion from all the nations.

He liked to indulge himself in it, buying finest pieces of clothing from all over teyvat. Everything had to match, from hats, socks, underwear. It was an expensive hobby, for sure but it wasn't a problem with his harbinger salary.

However, since losing that position he has been struggling with saving money because of his spending habits. You lived together so you covered the basic stuff for him like food and bills knowing he couldn't help you right now because of his current situation.

You've been together for few years now so you didn't mind doing that for him. Thats how relationships should work, right? By trusting and supproting each other.

One day, wanting to get some stuff from the store, you searched for your pouch were you stored your money. It wasn't in its usual place, which was already weird but when you looked inside and counted something wasn't right.

There was at least one milion mora missing from it. You panicked, did someone break in?! If so, how? The room wasn't trashed, nor there was any signs of forced entery. Maybe you missed something?

You searched the whole area, but didn't find anything. Prehaps Scara will know something? His fatui work for sure teached him all kinds of ways to break in, unnoticed.

He should be on your bedroom right now, he came back home not to long ago after being gone for whole afternoon.

Honestly he just said "hi" to you before hurrying into the bedroom. It waa strange when you think about it. Maybe he had something to do?

You grabbed the doorknob, opening it slowly, through the crack of the door you saw something suprising. Scara in black leather "lingerie". It looked more like a bunch of strings, three patches barely covering his nipples and cock, the imprint of his balls was clearly seen.

"What in the world is that?"

your spoke, suprising him. He didn't see you come into the room, too invested into looking himself in the mirror

"What the hell?! Didn't your parents teach you how to knock"

"Well, this IS my house and its MY bedroom"

"I thought it was OUR house"

"I pay the bills so its mine righ now. More importantly, what are even wearing"

"Are you blind? Its lingerie"

"It looks like a bunch of strings to me"

You said coming closer to him, taking a clearer look at the underwear

"Pshhh, its expected. A peasant like you would know never know anything about true fashion"

His arrogant attitude was starting to get on your nerves, even though, you already developed a slight tolarance for it. That was untill you saw a price tag, still attached to his bra. You tore it off and brought it in front of your face, suddent rage going through your body

"WHAT.THE.FUCK"

"Watch your mouth, fool"

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH THIS COSTS?"

"Of course i know, who do you take me for?"

Scara replaied calmy only fueling your anger more. You grabbed him by the straps of his bra, looking him in the eyes before saying slowly

"Did.you.take.my.money.to.buy.this.crap?"

"Being in relationship with me is a priceless honor, the money i spent on this should be nothing to you. Be glad i even look a pathetic human like you"

His condescending tone was infuriating, you thought you were about to explode. Your hand shot out and grabbed his neck

"GHhh-kk?!"

He didn't expect to lash out like that. Your grip was tight, he felt like you were about to tear his head off

"I think someone needs to be teached some manners"

You felt him squirm under your grip, clawing at your arm, that only made you squeez tighter. You didn't stop untill you felt his struggles weakened the you tossed him on the floor. He broke out into coughting fit, gasping for air.

That gave you enough time to take out the toys you keept in the closet nearby. Whip in hand, you stepped on his back, making his ass stick out, he was still dazed from the lack of air

"Don't pass out on me"

you growled as you swung your whip high in the air before it made a harsh imapct with his buttcheek

"AH! FUCK!"

"For every move, 3 lashes, for making a sound, 5 and for every swear word, 10. Thats 18 now"

Scaramouche looked back at you with fear in his eyes, he won't be able to seat for months. Another harsh slap rang through the room, making the pale man jump

"ACK!"

"You earned another 8"

Your whips were merciless, adding more and more for his slighter whiper or twitch. Tears streamed down his cheeks while he bit his lip. His cock was starting to peak out of his panties. His ass was beet red, its a miracle that his thong still didn't tear

He stopped counting after 30th lash. All strenght leaving him, not being able to even make a sound or move, he he paid his penalty in full

"Good job, you that ends the first part of your punishment"

"Huh..?"

Your words didn't even register in his mind. Something cold dripped into his sore bum, soothing it a bit. You started massaging his sore cheeks before sliding your hand between them. You dipped your finger into his hole slowly thrusting into it

"Mmmm"

Feeling of soft pleasure was refreshing after burning pain of whip lashes. His muscles relaxed letting you go deeper, spreading lube inside him.

"There, it should be enough"

You picked up his limp body from the floor, your arms under his knees putting him in standing full nelson postion. He was pretty light so it wasn't a problem

"Have a look how your slutty lingerie looks like"

You turned his body to the mirror he was looking at ealier, you felt his body grew hot from embarrassment. His round, red buttcheeks were shining from the lub and sweat. The black panies he had on couldn't hold his hard cock anymore, making it visible from the top

While he was distracted looking at himself in the mirror, you took this opportunity to jab your cock straight into his gut, making him throw his head back with a scream

"AHHH-MHMM"

He tried to contain his moans remember the rule from previous punshiment

"Scream all you want. I will enjoy it much more if you do"

You said with smirk. Not waiting for him to adjust you started a fast pace straight away. His body twisted against your chest. You could see his face twist into expressions of full pleasure

The room was starting to fill with nasty sounds of slapping and squelching. Scara's legs started to shake, pre-come streaming down his cock

"Ooohh-archons-mHhmm, Im gonna cummm!!"

Cum squirted out of his, covering his belly and chest but your thrusting didn't stop, rather it got quicker.

"SHIT-AhHhh I CAME ALREADYYY"

Scaramouche's screeching was pathetic along with his dumb expression. He was crying his eyes out, tounge hanging out of his mouth

"Now you look as Intelligent as you really are, slutty bimbo"

Your degrading only made him come a second time

This is going to be a long night...

#anon ask #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #sub genshin impact #genshin impact smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut

658 notes · View notes

katnissmellarkkk · 10 months

Text

I did a lil search for all the times Katniss talked about Peeta’s blue eyes. Or called them those blue eyes. She was so mesmerized by his eyes lbr 😭. Anyways, enjoy!

The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I’ve seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily onto the stage and takes his place.

It’s not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta’s hand. That’s how tightly I’ve been holding it. I look down at our linked fingers as I loosen my grasp, but he regains his grip on me. “No, don’t let go of me,” he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. “Please. I might fall out of this thing.”

“Do you mean you won’t kill anyone?” I ask.

“No, when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games,” says Peeta.

“But you’re not,” I say. “None of us are. That’s how the Games work.”

“Okay, but within that framework, there’s still you, there’s still me,” he insists. “Don’t you see?”

“A little. Only . . . no offense, but who cares, Peeta?” I say.

“I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?” he asks angrily. He’s locked those blue eyes on mine now, demanding an answer.

I look up into those blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly and remember how, just a year ago, I was prepared to kill him. Convinced he was trying to kill me. Now everything is reversed. I’m determined to keep him alive, knowing the cost will be my own life, but the part of me that is not so brave as I could wish is glad that it’s Peeta, not Haymitch, beside me. Our hands find each other without further discussion. Of course we will go into this as one.

Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.

“Thanks,” I say, closing my fist around it. I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent, the person who would keep me alive at his own expense. And I promise myself I will defeat his plan.

The laughter drains from those eyes, and they are staring so intensely into mine, it’s like they can read my thoughts. “The locket didn’t work, did it?” Peeta says, even though Finnick is right there. Even though everyone can hear him. “Katniss?”

“It worked,” I say.

“But not the way I wanted it to,” he says, averting his glance. After that he will look at nothing but oysters.

I wish I could meet with Peeta privately. But the audience of doctors has assembled behind the one-way glass, clipboards ready, pens poised. When Haymitch gives me the okay in my earpiece, I slowly open the door.

Those blue eyes lock on me instantly. He’s got three restraints on each arm, and a tube that can dispense a knockout drug just in case he loses control. He doesn’t fight to free himself, though, only observes me with the wary look of someone who still hasn’t ruled out that he’s in the presence of a mutt. I walk over until I’m standing about a yard from the bed. There’s nothing to do with my hands, so I cross my arms protectively over my ribs before I speak.

Through the water in the glass, I see a distorted image of one of Peeta’s hands. The burn marks. We are both fire mutts now. My eyes travel up to where the flames licked across his forehead, singeing away his brows but just missing his eyes. Those same blue eyes that used to meet mine and then flit away at school. Just as they do now.

#everlark #thg #hunger games #Katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #bookcomb ♥️🔎

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meetinginsamarra · 4 months

Text

mayprompts2024, #22 night

White Pony Tattoo - Part Three (Night)

A loud metallic bang ringing behind John’s back made him startle. His heartbeat sped up and he instinctively ducked, looking for cover to avoid being shot again.

The sound of hushed voices and the clatter of high-heeled shoes on cobblestones had John realize that it had been the door of car banging shut. Also, John was remembered that suffering from PTSD might give him a break but will not go away even after a multitude of sessions with his therapist and more than two years after the original traumatizing event.

Embarrassed about his behaviour that had made him look like a nutjob, John feigned to have ducked in order to tie a loose shoelace.

Peeking up from under his fringe that had fallen over his forehead, John saw Calais Reno disappearing in the White Pony tattoo shop. He could not believe his eyes. Standing up, close to the shop’s window, John watched as the expensive limousine turned around a street corner, feeling slightly dazed.

The internationally acclaimed movie star and recent Oscar-nominee who currently dominated the news of London’s yellow press had vanished in Sherlock’s shop to get tattooed. Dear God!

Knuckles tapping on glass made John turn around and look straight into Sherlock’s grinning face on the other side of the window pane. Sherlock winked and then pressed the suction cups of a second metal sign against the glass, and disappeared behind the purple curtain. The sign simply read “closed, don’t disturb”.

It was still early in the afternoon and the sun was shining, so John took the opportunity to take a stroll through Regent’s Park nearby. He sat down on a bench, sipping the take-away coffee he had bought on the way and remembered how he had met his old friend Mike Stamford on a very similar bench in this park two years ago.

They had talked about their training time at Bart’s Hospital. Mike had taken on a carreer in educating medical students while John took an army engagement. In the end, it had been Mike’s pointer that helped John to get hold of his current job as a clinic doctor.

Shortly after, Mary Morstan had come around and quickly won over John’s heart with her open, charming and uncomplicated nature and her dark sense of humour that matched John’s own very well.

It had been a day like this when they had got married. Seven months of happiness followed, at least for John. As it turned out, Mary had not been happy but instead became bored of John and started to have an affair. With their mutual dentist of all possible men. Who was also married and bored apparently.

John had only found out by accident. Coming home early from an obligatory three-day refresher course in emergency medicine, he had literally caught them in the act on the sofa in their sitting-room. Not in their marital bed, thankfully. Small mercies.

John might even have forgiven her, had it been a one-time misstep. But it hadn’t. Mary confessed quickly in the following tumultuous row that the affair had lasted for two months and that Randy Bernard, the dentist, was about to divorce his wife for her and therefore, Mary wanted to divorce John.

Too hurt and betrayed to argue, John agreed. He spent the night alone in their bed, having banned his adulterous soon-to-be ex-wife to sleep on the sofa. The next morning, Mary had left John’s flat to move in with Randy.

Albeit John scorned his wife for her unfaithfulness, he also missed her at home and in the bed. Everything was too quiet, too cold, too empty, too lonely. The nightmares of Afghanistan and getting shot in the shoulder, bleeding out in the hot desert sand returned in all of their gory glory and terror.

This had been going on for nearly four weeks, every night and it wore John down.

Mary had long taken her things and moved out, not leaving a scrap of hers in the flat. Not that John would have wanted. The only thing that stayed with John, irremovable, was the damned tattoo of the Virgin Mary with Mary’s face on his upper arm.

Once, John had loved it. It was a very well-done tattoo and the artist had captured Mary’s face in ink beautifully. But now, it reminded John every time he saw it of all the hurt that Mary had unapologetically caused and John hated it. Therefore, it had to go.

Drinking the last sip of his coffee, John took out his mobile phone and began to search for images of tattoos that had been done by Sherlock. The artist himself did not boast with his work apparently because all the photos John could find had been posted by the people who had managed to get one.

Quite a number of the lucky persons who had been deemed worthy of Sherlock’s attention were famous.

There was the lauded crime writer couple who only went by their pseudonyms “Solarmama” and “Plantsareneat” and never showed their faces in public. They had posted a photograph of their backs standing beside each other and the tattoo was a stunningly intricate diptych of flowers on a sunny meadow.

Another very impressive tattoo was a full arm sleeve of a majestic grizzly bear in a mountain landscape. It looked so realistic as if the bear might jump right off Peanitbear’s skin. The Grammy-winning singer/songwriter beamed on the photo and proudly held the tattooed arm close into the camera.

This evening back home in his flat, when John fell asleep in the empty bed after stalking White Pony Tattoo and Sherlock Holmes – which apparently was his real name - on the internet for hours, he did not dream of Afghanistan.

John dreamt of getting tattooed by Sherlock Holmes lying naked on a sunny mountain meadow while a large group of faceless but famous people watched and applauded. John had never been so happy before in his life.

+++++

I hope you like your cameos as famous people @solarmama-plantsareneat @calaisreno @peanitbear

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk @raina-at

#mayprompts2024 #number 22 night #my sherlock fanfics #white pony tattoo #no beta we die like (wo)men

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liknws · 1 year

Text

miles.

PAIRING: bang chan x oc TAGS: established relationship, the rare idol au, fluff, longing, angst if you squint, no use of y/n or you pronouns RATING: 18+ | WARNINGS: none really

WORD COUNT: 1,223 SUMMARY: They're fifteen hours away and over six thousand miles apart.

His hotel room is thirty-three stories up and, if he looks out of his window, the yellow cabs look like toy cars and the people look like ants marching up and down the sidewalks. They look insignificant. Thirty-three stories up in a fancy hotel room with a nice shower and a nice everything, Chan feels like a giant towering up above them, like a god looking down at all of creation. But he doesn't feel powerful or delighted; instead, the childish elation he felt when the plane first touched down is replaced by a melancholic feeling weighing him down in the back of his mind.

It turns out that thirty-three stories up, whilst alone, can makes someone feel both tiny and like the hero of Olympus. It's a dizzying effect.

He's in the city that never sleeps, but New York does slow down at three in the morning and he almost missed the sounds of traffic. It's this kind of quiet that leaves him with way too much time for thinking.

Eleven hours earlier, he had been in Times Square, swearing up and down that there is no place he'd rather be in than New York and he didn't even mind the fact that a total of eleven strangers brushed against him-- the busy atmosphere was filled with enough hustle and bustle that left very little room for the dreaded downward existential crisis spiral he's experiencing right now.

His forehead is pressed against the cold window pane and he can see his breath fog up the glass. A part of him wishes that the windowsill was wide enough to fit his huddled figure, but this wasn't one of the more expensive suites in the hotel and he certainly wasn't in a cliche movie with the rain dripping down and a tear-worthy piano piece playing in the background. There is no empty, quite bar with some wise mentor figure waiting in the corner for him to offer him a beer and some advice once he gives up trying to force sleep.

But there is Felix five stories up, probably busy dreaming and wrapped under the safety of unfamiliar hotel covers. In theory, Chan could call him, but he's not exactly in the mood to and he's more interested in how much it'll cost for him to make and international call.

They're fifteen hours away and over six thousand miles apart.

It'll be a little before five and they'll probably still be asleep, but they're a fairly light sleeper and more than used to having Chan wake them up at odd hours, especially in the middle of a proper sleep. But, then again, this arrangement is just for a few nights, this one being the first, and, surely, him being a twenty something grown man ought to be able to handle sleeping alone in a strange city.

He feels pathetic.

A year ago, Chan had wanted to scream from the rooftops because, holy shit, a person like them doesn't happen to a guy like him, especially after only brief interactions filled with shameless flirting and tentative approaches, they were finally his.

But he's not really the broadcasting type, as weird and contradictory as that sound, and he'd very much like to keep the late night conversations and good morning kisses a secret.

So he's left with vague vlive indications of that special someone in his life (that, of course, Stays speculate into wild theories) and cryptic tweets that were oh-so public-- a story of sorts with details pulled out.

It's not that Chan can't sleep without their slow, measured breathing against his chest (he thinks it's cute how they inhale through their nose and exhales through their mouth) and their arm around his waist, mindlessly rubbing circles into his skin. He'll fall asleep eventually, catching a few hours of sleep, if he's lucky. But Chan doesn't want to curl up in bed cuddling his metaphorical demons shooting his brain into overdrive.

He wants to stay awake late into the night with quiet whispers and them laying flush against him, acting like a shield for things like this. And, really, he can handle some time away from them-- hell, he's been doing it for years before they met-- but it's like the time he broke his wrist when he was riding his bike. The broken wrist wasn't unbearable, but it did make things harder. The dull pain nagged him for weeks and the cast was a major hindrance and he lost a good six-ish weeks of piano playing.

But it wasn't unbearable, and life went on even thought it was a little harder.

And that's kind of what it's like, being six thousand eight hundred sixty-four miles away from them. It won't last forever. Chan functions. He copes. It's just a little harder.

He's well aware that this is just the night time winding its way around his thoughts and he knows that when he wakes up tomorrow and he and the members go out for breakfast in the morning to eat pancakes that are twenty times larger than the pancakes he's used to, he'll feel better again. But right now, he's anything but, so he ignores the nagging thought of his cellphone bill and he picks up the phone and calls them anyway.

They picks up after four rings and he almost feels guilty when he hears their voice, laced with sleep.

"Hmm?"

His voice is breathy and shallow. "Hey. It's me."

"Yeah, I kinda figured. You're the only person that calls me before the sun goes down."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

He can hear the smile in their voice and they both fall silent, listening to each other breathe.

"How did I ever manage without you?" The line sounds cheesy and cliche and if it were any other time, he'd cringe at himself, but he's genuinely curious now. He can remember the first time they met and the time when he properly asked them out and video calls before and after and he even remembers their terribly embarrassing attempts at phone sex but he doesn't really remember the nights before them. Not when they've become a regular fixture in his life.

"You tell me. I for once was waiting all my life for an Australian dork to sweep me off my feet."

"Glad I could be of service." He laughs quietly, before whispering, "I love you," and holding his breath, waiting for a response.

"I know. Now will you please stop doing that thing where you worry way too much for one person? I love you and I will love you for a long ass time. Now get your pretty ass to bed and get some sleep, will you?"

A pause.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you. And I want you back home soon, okay?" They briefly consider actually spelling it out for him because they know Chan and they know he thinks that he's being too clingy for calling them in the middle of the night.

"I love you."

"I know. Same."

It takes him eight minutes to get comfortable in bed after handing up. Another two to fit one of the pillows up against his chest just right. If he closes his eyes and pretends, it's almost like they're there with him.

He falls asleep infinity better than he would have before.

#bang chan fluff #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz fluff

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gerec · 1 year

Text

AU-gust 2023

16. Road Trip

Pairing(s): Cherik Warnings: N/A

Charles received the letter upon his arrival in Calais, which led him to believe that it had been sent before he even left England to begin his travels. Grinning, he thanked the porter for bringing his luggage, and agreed to meet his tutor Mr. Summers for a late dinner, before retiring to his room and unsealing the envelope.

Dearest Charles,

Yes, I did send this letter ahead of your arrival, as I knew you would take your time in Dover before making it across the Channel! Just know that you are missed already, as Tony’s attention span is dismal on a good day, and he is entirely insufferable without your slightly less irritating presence around to keep him in line.

(And no, he has still not forgiven his father for forbidding him to join you on the Grand Tour. I imagine dinners at the Stark household will be very chilly for the foreseeable future.)

In any case, I have made arrangements for a Mr. Erik Lehnsherr to meet you in Calais and interview as your translator and guide. The man is a bit taciturn but well-educated and well-travelled, and most importantly speaks French, German, Italian and Dutch. He comes highly recommended by Christian, who met him and took him on as a guide during his own tour three years ago.

But Emma, you say, will this man be good company on the road? And will he be easy on the eyes? While I cannot attest to the former, Christian assures me that he is quite handsome indeed, enough to meet even your high expectations. Most importantly, he shares the same worldly outlook on relationships as you do – and my dear brother of course – so I am certain you two will get along splendidly.

Do remember to write, as I suffer here in London without your charming presence at all the best parties. I will keep an eye on Raven and Dr. McCoy, and send details of their burgeoning relationship.

Yours,

Emma

----

Mr. Lehnsherr sent word the next day, and Charles was quick to agree to a meeting at the hotel. He invited Mr. Lehnsherr to join him for dinner, but the man declined, citing a previous engagement that sounded more like a contrived excuse. And while everything Emma said in her letter was true – he had travelled all over Europe, and was fluent in all the languages of the countries Charles planned to visit – he was also prickly and almost condescending, as though he didn’t quite approve of the frivolous nature of Charles’ travels. His answers, when asked after his family and where he called home, were distressingly vague and curt, and, as their conversation drew to a close, Charles could not imagine spending months on the road with this man, who proved even more infuriating than his two best friends back home.

Finally, after he’d had enough of Mr. Lehnsherr drinking his brandy and insulting England’s weather, he blurted, “Why do you even want this position? You clearly do not approve of my reasons for coming to the Continent, or even to care for my very person. This trip is a chance for me to open my eyes to the wider world, Mr. Lehnsherr, and I will not waste it at the side of someone who will hinder instead of help me.”

Mr. Lehnsherr smiled, perhaps the first genuine one of the evening and replied, “Would you welcome the truth, I wonder? Well, here it is Mr. Xavier. My work as an artist requires that I travel, and a position like this helps me with my expenses. And while I do not think you will learn anything truly meaningful and worthwhile on a trek of luxurious decadence through Europe, I am a quite capable guide, and will do an exceptional job in showing you exactly what you ask of me. Whether you choose anything beyond the attending fancy parties is entirely up to you, as is the way you choose to flaunt your privileged wealth.”

Charles was stunned, entirely unused to such harsh judgement from someone he’d met mere hours before. He bristled as Lehnsherr watched him with those steely blue eyes, sharp and accessing as though he were measuring Charles’ character and finding him lacking. Part of him wanted to send Lehnsherr away with a sound rebuke, and yet another, bigger part wanted desperately to prove him wrong; to show him that Charles was not merely a spoiled rich boy, and that he intended to use his position as heir to the Dukedom of Norfolk to better the lives of those in his care.

“I assure you that I did not take this journey on for the parties,” he countered, with just enough chill in his voice to make his affronted feelings known. “I welcome a thorough education, not just of the rich but of the poorest in the land, though, would you call it decadence if I wanted also to admire great art and learn about music and history to enrich my soul? Before I must be married off and swallowed whole by a life of duty and tradition?”

If anything, Lehnsherr’s smile only grew wider, and for the first time, he met Charles’ gaze with something like approval. “I would be happy to oblige you, Mr. Xavier, in whatever manner of decadence you wish to indulge.”

His cheeks flushed with heat at Lehnsherr words, and he remembered what Emma had intimated in her letter; that the man might share his proclivities for the same sex. He held his breath when Lehnsherr closed the distance and lightly brushed Charles’ cheek with his fingers, only exhaling when he grinned and then stepped away again.

“Well, Mr. Xavier,” Mr. Lehnsherr said, licking his lips as he took a slow sip from his glass of brandy, “do I have the job?”

Charles blinked, flushing again when he realized he’d been staring at Lehnsherr. He poured himself a refill, before turning to meet the man’s steady gaze.

“Yes. Mr. Lehnsherr. Be ready to leave the day after tomorrow.”

#cherik #gerec writes #au-gust 2023 #road trip #the grand tour #18th century #day 16

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raveyardantics · 2 years

Text

What The Heart Wants

Vlad felt like his world was crumbling all over again. It had been bad enough when it was Maddie, a college crush that never got to go any further, but now, Jack Fenton had stolen the affection of another from him.

“Vlad,” Harriet called from the opposite side of the room, “come on…”

“How,” he asked, staring haunted into the side of the room, “how did this happen, Harriet?”

Somehow he could hear her roll her eyes. “It’s not like I planned this, I was just going through some old albums and then…”

He could still hear her excitedly asking to see him. Was he not enough? The house, the gifts, years of unconditional love and everything money could buy, and she was ready to leave it all to go see him. “Harriet… my heart is breaking, I can’t take this…”

“Oh for the love of-” there was the sound of her crossing the room and then the quick ‘fwap’ of a pillow smacking his face, knocking him back onto the bed where he laid in a daze and stared at the ceiling, wondering where it had gone wrong, “she’s seven years old you big drama queen, and it’s a sleepover! Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Over…” Vlad felt indignant, “Harriet, for the last three weeks it’s been ‘Uncle Jack’ this, and ‘Uncle Jack’ that, and now she wants to go spend the night with… with him! On her birthday weekend Harriet! Her birthday! ‘Overreacting,’ please, if anything you’re UNDERreacting!”

Sighing, Harriet joined him on the bed. This was technically her fault, she had been looking over some college scrapbooks when their daughter, Dana, tumbled into the room -literally- and had to be stopped from colliding with a vase more expensive than some people’s cars. Naturally, the curiosity of a child saw the strangers in the book beside her parents and responded with a thousand questions, most of which had to be answered with a PG retelling. Dana had taken a particular interest in ‘Uncle’ Jack. when Harriet slipped on a bit of nostalgia and told her that they were like brothers a long time ago. She had never had an uncle before, Harriet only had sisters, and for a girl who was used to having everything, the concept of something new to add to her treasures made her eye’s light up. Of course, she also had her father’s annoying habit of never letting anything go.

“Mommy,” she had said weeks ago over dinner, “I know what I want for my birthday.”

“Oh,” Harriet had replied, her and Vlad sharing a look of amusement at her assertiveness, “and what’s that?”

“I wanna go see Uncle Jack.”

Vlad had almost choked on his salmon at the announcement, forgoing his wine glass and reaching straight for the bottle. He spent the entire night in his library pacing and listening to Liza Minnelli records and any attempts he’d made to bargain with their daughter to change her mind in the subsequent weeks had been met with failure.

“...Is it too early to ground her?”

“On what grounds, Mr. Masters.”

He paused as he racked his brain looking for probable cause. “Treason?”

fwap.

“Look Vlad, you know I’m not Jack’s biggest fan either,” she began.

“So it’s two against one now, great, now YOU go tell her no.”

“BUT,” Harriet continued, ignoring her husband, “it is only going to be one night, and I’m sure Maddie will keep things in order enough that if anything goes nobody will get hurt.”

“Ah yes,” Vlad said, eyes flashing red, “because that worked out so well last time, didn’t it dear.”

“No,” she rebutted, “but last time they didn’t have two kids or their own to look after either. I mean, little Danny’s just now walking and Jazzy is about Dana’s age so at the very least they’re capable of keeping children alive for the twenty-four hours it’ll take us to set up the p-a-r-t-y. Besides, much as I hate to admit it, kids have always loved Jack, remember when you guys had to volunteer at that daycare for class credit?”

“Well, you know what they say about those of like minds, my dear”

“Mmhmm,” she said, kissing his forehead, “and I also know what they say about opposites, Mr. ‘Accidentally sat on the class hamster and made the children cry.’”

Vlad grumbled as he thought about the family postcard the Fentons had sent them last year. Jack, mountain of a man that he was, tears nearly in his eyes as he cradled the two small children and his wife in his massive arms as if they were the only things in the world. He’d almost looked… competent, and Harriet had gotten serotonin from the smile he let slip looking at the photo longer than he cared to admit. He supposed one day wouldn’t kill anyone… also, he could always send a duplicate sentry to invisibly watch the house for signs of excess buffoonery.

“Besides,” Harriet said, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “it’s been a while since we’ve had a night just to ourselves, and I think my Dairy Queen outfit is getting a little sad boxed up in the closet, eh?”

Turning red, his ears perked up like an excited bat. “I… yes… well… I- I don't suppose one night is entirely unreasonable.”

“Good boy.”

#raveyardfanfics #vlad masters #harriet chin #danny phantom #gober #me looking at vlad with incredible pity: you may have a crumb of affection...a crumb #i'm a man of my word #au #i cannot stress this enough #short fic #also dana belongs to we-serve-spirits im just here as the message man

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iamnmbr3 · 21 days

Note

Hi. Brazilian anon here. Thank you for your answer, and for reading what I had to say. I promise I’ll try to get better, I want to. This isn’t the first time in my life I’ve felt similar to this, in fact I’ve been worse before. I almost called quits after high school, but I started therapy and it saved my life, but when things get the bad the thoughts came back to me a few times over the years after. I’m not as bad I was when I seriously thought about doing it, but I won’t lie, it’s rough. I’m almost three decades old, and my life has gone nowhere. A college degree on a field of information organizing I deeply regret ever getting into because I can now see it’s a dead end, no relationships, no job I can really speak of because our economy sucks (only managed to land a few internships here and there), and stuck here. When I was younger, I dreamed of having a career, move out of here to the US or Canada, finding someone I love and having a family, but now it just seems so impossible. It’s like when I was young I had this illusion that I could make all of it true, and now it all feels so far out of my reach. I know there’s a lot stigma around saying this, but I really don’t like my country, I wish I was never born in Brazil. It’s something a lot of Brazilians will chastise you if you say in public, but behind closed doors a lot of us feel the same. It’s just everything here sucks to me. There’s very little opportunities, even less now that a flood hit my state a few months ago and sank our economy even more, everything is super expensive, corruption is rampant, bigotry is on the rise (which as gay man still in the closet, is super fucking scary), the education system is so broken even most private schools are inferior to a lot of public schools you have in the US (and our public education is a disaster), there’s very little incentive to sports unless you like soccer (I hate it), the acting scene is extremely limited compared to the US (I dreamed of being an actor, but there’s no LA or variety here… it’s theater, repetitive soap operas or weird movies for the rest of your life, if you’re lucky), our colleges are terribly behind in terms of structure and are degrading in the eyes of the public, etc. Fuck, I have a college degree and trade school courses, and I can’t get a job! That’s so fucking demoralizing! I have no opportunities, no money, no relationship, my irl friends are becoming increasingly difficult to talk to because they’re getting more and more politically extreme, I have very little family to speak of and most of them don’t fucking get me, I’m unhappy and stuck in a place I never wanted to build a life in! And a lot of my friends that I love talking too aren’t irl friends and they’re not even from here, I met them online and they’re from the US or Canada and now I can’t even talk to them anymore because our government is on a power trip and Musk is a dick! I’m sorry, I know this is a lot and I swear I’m doing therapy and taking my meds, but it all just seems so fucking hopeless. I’ll keep going though, I want to believe I can get out of here and make my dreams come true. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll keep telling myself that. Again, thank you for listening, it helps.

I'm so glad you're doing at least a little better than you were and that you have meds and a therapist. Even so, I'm really sorry that you're feeling so down. Not being at your absolute worst doesn't mean that you aren't suffering. And not having job opportunities or feeling like you wasted your school years is an incredibly demoralizing and dehumanizing feeling. And being under a government that doesn't provide for you or even respect your basic human rights and make you feel safe is awful and frightening. Your feelings are totally valid and understandable. It's awful feeling to be feel powerless and alone and the fact that getting into a better place takes time is so frustrating when all you want is for things to get better right away. But it is possible. It's possible to seek out a new path.

Exploring actions to make your life better and then starting to implement the ones that make sense for you will help you feel more empowered and calmer and give you hope and direction.

First off, appropriately prescribed meds and therapy can help you put things into perspective and regulate your emotions and views on life. Furthermore, you can also start exploring concrete actions to change your situation to the extent you can. Things like exploring career field changes, additional schooling/certifications (esp if there's anything you can get online), remote work either in your own country or potentially in another country if you can find the right opportunity and get the right permits (or remote schooling), and also looking into ways to preserve and expand social relationships.

You might also look into ways you might be able to emigrate to another country - though keeping mind that leaving your home country, even if it has problems, is a huge step and can feel very destabilizing and starting a new life somewhere else is obviously challenging and will feel isolating and unfamiliar at first. But many people do it and succeed. So it's a big decision that you shouldn't rush into, but it's something I think you should at least look into.

Sending you all the love in the world. *Hugs*

#asks

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mj-ackerman · 2 years

Text

SxF Light Novel: Family Portrait Translation Mission 3: Franky's New Love!? (Part 2)

<<PART 1. . . PART 3>>. DO NOT REPOST

“Oh, is he really that big of a dog?”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s big enough for the kid in the house to ride on it. Let’s see, I think it’s about the size of a small bear? And he’s got a lot of fur too.”

Franky said exaggeratedly while sitting side by side with Alessa on a bench in the backyard of the hospital.

Over the past month, Franky has been coming into the backyard as often as he could to listen to her sing and to chat. Alessa enjoys the little sweets and flowers Franky brings as if they were expensive gifts, and she would laugh like a tinkling bell at the most trivial of topics. More than anything else, Franky could tell that she was looking forward to meeting him, and whenever he saw Alessa’s smile, Franky was filled with a feeling of trepidation, but also a sense of happiness that he had never felt before.

“We wanted to play frisbee at the park nearby, he’s a naive dog so he got all excited over it, but he just ended up sitting and staring after we got there.”

When Fanky talked about Loid’s dog, Alessa let out a sigh. She mumbled enviously,

“Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted to have a big dog, but my father didn’t allow me to have one because he said that animal hair is bad for my throat…”

“Oh…”

At that, Fanky lowered his shoulders.

While he felt sorry for Alessa’s despondent profile, he also thought at the same time,

Well, of course it’s like that.

After all, Alessa is the daughter of that Balzer family.

Loid is likely to call him a “stalker” again, but Franky, in his informant’s saga, has done all the research on Alessa’s origin and career, and even though she looks young, Alessa is already nineteen years old.

The Balzer family is famous for producing prominent musicians, and Alessa’s father is a world-renowned pianist. Her mother is also a world-renowned opera actress. Her brother, who is three years older than her, is an up-and-coming pianist who is said to be traveling around the world. Her uncle is a conductor of a prestigious orchestra, and her aunt is a genius composer. It is said that many of the patrons of the family are important people from Ostania.

Alessa, who will turn 20 this year, was also scheduled to make a spectacular debut as an opera actress like her mother two years ago, but she suddenly lost her eyesight due to a nervous system disease. Still, she practices singing alone in an empty backyard of the hospital so as to not weaken her talent. Franky even had a sense of respect for Alessa. If it were him, he would probably be sick and tired of everything and be totally bitter about it. He would probably be desperate and sulk about the world. However, during the past month, not a single word of lamentation about her situation has ever come out from the girl’s mouth. That’s why he wanted to do something for her.

“If that’s the case then, I’ll bring him here next week. He’s a naive dog, but he’s basically a well-behaved one, so he’s not scary. Why don’t you try giving him some treats?”

When Franky suggested that, Alessa’s white cheeks flushed red, she stood up from the bench and asks,

“Is it really okay?”

However, her face soon clouded over, and she sat back down on the bench.

“What? Are you worried about the hair? Well, he has long hair after all.”

When Franky said, “If that’s the case, I’ll just borrow a short-haired dog somewhere.” Alessa stammed, then after a pause, she mumbled a “No….” in a small voice.

“I actually have an eye surgery next week.”

“Seriously!?”

A startled Franky looked at Alessa.

“You should’ve told me that sooner! Something that important, why--”

“I’m sorry.”

“.......No, I should be the one saying sorry.”

She apologized in a voice that sounded as if she’s about to cry, and Franky, who had calmed down, potentially apologized too. Then, for a change, he let out a cheerful tone.

“It’s a simple type of surgery, right? Something that would take just about an hour?”

“..........”

“So it’s a complicated surgery then?”

Alessa silently turned away. Franky’s heart made a sickening thump as the girl gently lowered her lightless eyes. Neither of them spoke for a while.

The overcast sky looked as if it would rain at any moment. After a while, Alessa muttered,

“The truth is, I’m scared. The doctor said that it will be all over while I’m asleep under anesthesia, so it’ll be fine, but I’m scared thinking what if I don’t wake up…then, I wouldn’t be able to sing my favorite songs anymore, and I wouldn’t be able to talk to you like this, Mr. Franky.”

Alessa’s voice was hoarse. Her beautiful hair, which drew a gentle curve from her shoulders to her chest, was slightly trembling.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to, Mr. Franky.”

So the girl continued with a trembling voice.

“If I can keep it up and still sing a song, then Mr. Franky can still hear it.”

“Alessa…..”

“That’s more than enough for me, I’m happy with that….”

Alessa murmured in a voice almost like a sigh. Franky’s heart was crushingly happy and aching at the same time. He was happy that she cared so much about singing and that she thought so much of a man like him. But more than that, he was scared. No matter how advanced medical technology has become, there is no guarantee that the surgery will be safe when performed under general anesthesia.

Franky felt the same fear that Alessa felt. However, when Franky said in a deliberately cheerful voice,

“I know right? Surgery is scary after all, I know the feeling.”

He tried his best to restrain himself so that his voice would not tremble.

“I have a friend, his name is Loid, he’s a very cool and handsome asshole, but when he had his wisdom teeth removed, he was so terrified that he blacked out, you know.”

“He blacked out?”

“Also, he’s afraid of injections even now, avoiding it like a kid on the verge of crying.”

“Oh my….”

Franky is laying out a bunch of bullshit. On top of that, he deliberately sneaks in Alessa’s ears,

“I mean, what I said is all actually about me.”

“Oh my….”

“It’s a secret, okay.”

Alessa finally burst out laughing.

She laughed for a bit and whispered, “Thank you”. Making sure that smiles once again appeared on her face, Franky said in a soft voice, “No big deal”. It was a voice completely different from earlier.

“I’m sure your surgery will go well, Alessa. There’s no way such a sweet, good girl like you would be in misfortune. I can assure you that.”

“Franky…”

Alessa burst into tears and muttered in a faint voice,

“That’s not true. I’m not as nice or kind as you think I am, Franky. I’ve always been an intolerable jerk. I see myself as someone special. I’ve looked down on other people and thought that everything beautiful and glorious in the world belonged to me, and that’s why I don’t have friends who would come to visit me even now.”

Her beautiful doll-like profile looked lonely, but there was not the slightest hint of self pity. Franky looks at the girl’s profile and is touched by the gracefulness of someone who was ashamed of her own foolishness but looking firmly forward.

“However, I became blind and I’ve lost a lot of things, but now I can truly see what’s really important, what is truly beautiful.”

A faintly damp breeze played with Alessa’s hair. She turned to Franky and smiled softly.

“I was so happy that you’re always there to cheer me up and were there to tell me fun stories. You never told me to do my best or asked me if I was okay, instead, you always told me that it’ll be fine.”

“.......”

“I’m glad that I met you, Franky.”

Her deep barred eyes reflected Franky, yet she couldn’t see him. However, Franky sensed an even more deeper distance between himself and Alessa.

Alessa said that Franky is a beautiful thing, she believes so. She said that she realized what’s important after she lost her eyesight and lost so much more.

However, Franky hasn’t told Alessa who he really is.

“I’m going to have surgery. So, will you continue to stay by my side forever?”

“.....Saying something like that, I might be a very short, ugly guy, you know?”

As Alessa said it shyly blushing red in her pure white cheeks, Franky deliberately mingled with her as usual.

At that, Alessa said angrily,

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what kind of face you have. I don’t care if you’re short or if you’re ugly. I want you, Franky!

Then, as she was beet red up to her ears, she said,

“Oh….I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you short, or ugly,...... o-or anything like that….it’s just that, I just wanted to tell you that I don’t care about any of those things at all…..It’s not like I’m saying you’re short or you’re ugly, Franky….”

“You’re so silly…..Alessa, really.”

For once, Franky was glad that Alessa was blind.

As he doesn’t want anyone to see his face right now.

“Um? Franky?”

Alessa, perhaps worried that Franky had gone silent, reached out her thin fingers towards him. She unreliably scratched it in the air, and Franky instinctively catched it with both hands.

“Thank goodness.”

With that, the girl who can’t see smiled.

“I thought that you’ve gone somewhere else, Franky.”

“..........”

The girl’s fingers were thin, fragile like glass work, and looked like they might break at any moment. Franky wanted to hold on to it, but he gently let it go.

“Look, it looks like it’s going to rain, so go back to your room. You're gonna be in trouble if you catch a cold before your surgery, you know.”

“.....okay.”

When he said that in his usual tone of voice, Alessa nodded quietly.

“Please come and see me when the bandages come off, okay?”

“Sure.”

In front of the hospital ward, Franky parted from the girl who kept on waving at him, and with a certain determination in his heart, he called Loid.

-------------

I had a feeling it was going to be troublesome, but I didn’t think it would really be troublesome…..

Even though his hunch was correct, he was not the least bit happy about it. Loid folded his arms and was silent for a while before looking at the man in front of him.

“In other words, on the day the girl’s bandages come off, you want me to make you look like a different person, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. Please.”

“No way.”

Franky, who suddenly called him by phone and met in a certain back alley, told him what he had expected to hear, but in a way, it was also unexpected.

He has asked him before to teach him the secret to winning a date, or to give him advice on love, or to teach him the secrets of being popular with women, but it’s the first time he has heard him ask to change his face. That must have been how serious he was. However, using a special mask to become a different person to date a woman is out of the question.

First of all, there’s no way such deception would last forever. As long as Franky is an amateur informant and not a spy, there will always be a way for his true self to show up at some point.

“Love is more than just doing your best with your real face.”

When he said that and was about to leave, Franky was on his heels as he said,

“Wait! Didn’t I disguised myself as an SSS officer before to question Yor? I want it just like what you did back then! No, I want you to also change my hairstyle this time! I want to dress differently than I usually do! I want everything to look good!”

He clung to Loid’s waist.

“Anyway, just make sure it’s the furthest away from my face. The previous good-looking face was, after all, close to my real one.”

“No, how was it even close to your real face?”

(Note: Franky was talking about this disguised, from chapter 14 of the manga, episode 9 in the anime)

Loid told Franky that he was shameless and ripped his hands from his waist. However, Franky was not giving up.

“I don’t want a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, good-looking guy who, oh who looks like you by the way. How about a baby-faced, handsome guy with long, silky black hair? Or an intelligent guy with slanted eyes, thin eyebrows, and thin face?”

“I’m not going to say anything bad about you, so play it nice.”

Loid sighed.

“Didn’t I tell you before? It’s not a good idea to trick a woman into a relationship.”

“I also told you I didn’t want to hear that coming from you!”

“I see. See you then.”

“Ah, wait! Wait, please!! Master Twilight!!”

Loid turned on his heel with a smile, Franky came around quickly and said,

“I’m begging you. You’re the only one I can ask for. From the same status!!”

Saying that, he crawled on the ground and rubbed his forehead on the spot. It’s a custom called “Dogeza (kneeling down on the ground)” known in the far eastern island country.

Loid asked Franky, who seemed somewhat out of character for being more persistent than usual, in a serious voice.

“Are you really that in love with her?”

“.........”

Franky didn’t respond. Normally, he would have been more eager and said something like, “That’s right! So help me out! Have mercy on your ol’ pal scruffy!” Loid was sure of it.

Is he serious….

If so, he was even less inclined to lend him a hand.

“Listen, Franky. If it’s just something like teaching you how to win a date, then I’ll help you. However, even if changing you to a different person works, what are you planning to do after that? Are you going to keep asking me to change your face every time?”

That is just impossible. Throwing away one’s face is not such an easy thing to do. Even Franky must not be so stupid as not to understand that.

“Go see her just as you are. If you really care about her, that’s the best option you have.”

Saying that, when he was about to walk away this time, Franky muttered, “......zer’s” with his forehead pressed against the ground. Loid’s feet stopped on the hard stone pavement of the back alley.

“What?”

“She’s a daughter of the Balzer’s family.”

Franky looked up as he said this. His eyes behind the lenses did not reveal any color of emotion.

Loid raised an eyebrow.

“Balzer…..that famous musical family?”

“Yea.”

They are one of the most noble families producing world-renowned musicians. Among the backers, there are many bigwigs from Ostania whose information WISE would love to get their hands on. For Loid, it is honestly a pipe he wants down his throat.

“Alessa herself had a promising future as an opera actress. If she can see again, and if she becomes active on the world stage, she can get all kinds of information you’ll need.”

Franky told him matter-of-factly.

“If that’s the case, then it’s a no-brainer for you too, right?”

Franky’s voice reached Loid’s ears terribly cold.

“......are you really okay with that?”

His own voice was surprisingly dry.

The expression on Franky’s face as he responded was something he had never seen before.

“......Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

“I see.”

Loid responded briefly.

So that’s your answer huh

He has no intention of pretending to be a good citizen anymore. What Franky has proposed is undoubtedly of a great benefit to Loid. As a spy, he should be happy to accept it. And yet, there was a part of him that felt disappointed with the man in front of him.

Until now, he has deceived and used many women, and easily discarded them when they lost their worth to him. He has no intention of defending them, nor thinks his actions should be forgiven. Loid had something to protect, a mission, even if it meant getting his own hands dirty. There is not even a shred of ego in it. However, Franky’s desire to not lose someone he loves so much that he deceives that person and even makes him an unwitting informant, Loid was disappointed with that.

Even though Franky is not a spy like Loid….. He wondered why, and then, unexpectedly, he understood.

I see….so that’s how it is.

Loid was disappointed. To himself. And to this man in front of him.

He believed that this man was an idiot, but not that kind of trash. He’s someone who gets carried away easily, but he’s not a hateful moron, and he’s somewhat good-natured. In the end, he did not dislike this aloof and easy-going informant. To the extent that he harbors even the slightest bit of feelings of “friendship”, that he thought he had abandoned a long time ago, for this man.

This is ridiculous.

Loid felt a faint of irritation with his emotions.

Trust no one and don’t get attached to anyone. Wasn’t that the ironclad rule? Otherwise, people like themselves would not be able to survive.

As a spy, I can continue to get the information I need for my mission from this man.

That’s all to it. Nothing more, nothing less.

There was no need for him to buy that man a drink to console him after he was rejected by his unrequited crush, or to invite him over for dinner, or teaching him stupid things like the secret of being popular with the ladies. Their relationship wasn’t originally supposed to be like that…..

“I understand.”

When Loid responded in a low voice, Franky, with a relief in his voice, said,

“I’m in your debt.”

His face was completely his usual self.

“Thank you.”

“..........”

With one cold look, Loid turned his heels this time.

---------------

#spy x family #spy x family light novel: family portrait #franky franklin #loid forger #alessa balzer #please do not repost

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