#at least this job will be yet another chapter that's closing

[hunkydorkling]

As I was doing the skill test expected of me, I kept uttering to myself that I was intentionally fucking it up. That the two years-worth of growth and advance command of Graphic Design suddenly dissipated the moment they asked me to present my skills for a position I clearly did not want. That this restructuring is more than surface-level bullshit.

Mergers suck ass. I kept dealing with people I've had some level of closeness to come in for an interview with Head Honcho HR and tell them they're laid off, effective immediately, and that they're still paid! Only that you're met with information that they won't need you anymore because your position is redundant. I've seen a total of 10 close co-workers with folders and sheets of paper in their hands when they came back. All this week!

It's cruel what they've done, and disappointing doesn't even cut to whatever else has happened, why things went off-axis. Why it even resorted to this.

So I did the skill test today on top of work I am asked of, but I made it look like a kid learning Photoshop at 10. I don't want to be with such a toxic work environment, and I've faced being laid off as a way out of this shithole.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

coming home

synopsis : you sleep over at katsuki’s place after a night out with your friends. it’s more convenient that way.

an. wrote something rq after seeing the epilogue chapter and pheeewieeeee,,my boyfriend..sigh my boyfriend oh my boyfriend ouggh

cw. nothin really, just a lil casual domesticity w katsu :3, katsuki is fine ASL, reader n katsuki shower together so nakedness they nakey, lmk if there's anything else !!

you’ve noticed katsuki looks very good when he’s the designated driver.

he looks so natural behind the wheel, arms slightly flexed and gripping the steering wheel. his face serene but slightly tensed in concentration, occasionally scoffing to himself whenever someone in front of him drives too slow or cuts him off.

the lamp posts outside reflect nicely on his jaw, his nose and sharp eyes. his whole face really, you can’t stop sneaking glances at him.

he takes the opportunity to place his hand on your thigh once you get to a stop light, giving it a light squeeze. it feels heavy, relaxed, like your thigh just conveniently happens to be there for him to use as an armrest.

another squeeze and katsuki speaks, eyes never leaving the road, the stop light shines the same color as them.

“what’re ya peekin’ at me for, huh ?”

you’ve clearly not been sneaky enough, but you hum anyway. “whaddya mean ?” you ask innocently, your boyfriend scoffs.

a pinch to your thigh and he laughs when you whine. “know you’re not dumb, so quiet actin’ like you are. you got somethin’ on your mind, say it.”

you pout at him, he catches it when he glances at you briefly and smirks, katsuki pats your thigh.

“i was jus’ lookin at you, you look nice.”

he hums at that, smirk growing wider, he nods lightly “nice, huh ?”

“mhm,” you nod “really nice..” you clarify, making a point to look him up and down. he snorts, but his grip on your thigh does a bad job at making him look unbothered.

“know you’re obsessed with me, but you could at least try to act like you’re not.” he teases, hands going back to the steering wheel when the lights on his face shine green. the slight furrow in his brows immediately returns when the car in front of him doesn’t immediately pick up the pace. his fingers drum against the wheel impatiently.

“you got somewhere you need to be or something ?” you giggle.

“yeah, home. in bed.” he quips, always as easily irritable when he was sleepy and not to mention just a bit tipsy. kaminari had managed to get him to drink a little bit more than he usually would but the electric blond got too drunk to notice you’re boyfriend babysitting his drink the entire night. he always insisted on being the driver when it came to his precious baby.

you know he’s never liked to drink much, but you also think katsuki doesn’t so as to not demolish his so called 'reputation'. you and a handful of friends know how needy and emotional he gets when he gets drunk. he acts like everyone is after him when he’s reminded of the fact.

when things had started to die down and everyone slowly but surely started heading home, katsuki leant in near you to ask if you were ready to head out. he was the one that insisted on picking you up from your place since you were on the way to the restaurant, it was more convenient that way he'd said.

but suddenly, he’d suggested you just sleep over at his house for the night. his was closer if he took a shortcut, and it was already getting late. besides, you had left plenty of your stuff at his house. it was just “less of a pain” that way, he’d claimed, and you agreed.

katsuki places his arms behinds your chair to carefully back up into a parking spot. a lucky find, since it was so late at night. but that was hardly something you could focus on when he leant in so close, jaw tight in concentration. he smells just a bit like alcohol mixed with his usual scent.

you’d been together for years now, and yet this still makes your heart hammer, you’d blame it on the slight buzz of alcohol in your system if it wasn’t for the fact that this has always been how you’d reacted before—from the day he’d gotten his license and took you for a test drive to show off.

as the car slows to stop and the engine dies down with a low growl, katsuki turns on the lights and sighs, plopping down onto his seat with a groan, you have to laugh at how he acts like he’d just driven through a desert. he runs a hand through his hair and you notice katsuki looks extremely good when he’s the designated driver.

conveniently, you still have some sleepwear laying around at his house, neatly folded would be a better way to say it, katsuki was always a clean freak, not that it mattered much though since you knew you could just grab one of his shirts and call it a day and he wouldn’t mind at all. you think it shouldn't feel so natural to fish out a pair of your clothes from the drawer, like you'd been living here your entire life.

conveniently, katsuki has a spare toothbrush. he denies that he’d gotten it for you and tries to convince you that his specific toothbrush was sold in a pack of two and he was planning on keeping it for himself.

right, of course.

katsuki’s apartment has always had a cozy feel to you. probably because it was his and not just any old apartment. he just had this warmth to him that made it a home, one you could see yourself sharing with him. it’d be simple, natural. like breathing just to be with him.

you don’t particularly enjoy smelling like alcohol and outside, so you’re happy to sneak off to get to the bathroom first while your boyfriend gets himself a glass of water. until he catches you, of course. he almost chokes with how fast he zooms towards you, quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“the fuck you think yer doin’ ?”

“katsuki, m’stinky and gross.”

“m’not gonna let you hog the bathroom in my house, get your own.” he stalks closer to you. he’s grown a lot since high school—in height, muscle, confidence and the list could go on, you stand your ground.

“you’re the one who brought me here, mister.” you shove an accusatory finger into his firm chest. he doesn’t budge, but he scowls down at your finger like you’d shot him and digs his finger into your side before you can stop him. you’re ready to cuss him out and fight if you have to, but to your surprise he sighs. looking off to the side.

“fine, we’ll just both go then.” he huffs, ears slightly tinted pink in the light of his living room.

oh.

“w—oh.” you breathe, immediately his eyes zip to you. his eyebrows furrow harder and his lip pulls up to hide the embarrassment growing on his face. “what ? s’that a problem or something ?”

“no, no !” you try to tone down the surprise in your voice, leaning against the wall to try and act casual. “i mean, no it’s not but—like, are you sure ?” and you feel like you’re sixteen again asking him if it was okay to kiss him.

“it’s more convenient that way. uses up less hot water so, it works out for me.”

“ah, right. bills.” you try to jest, managing to only huff awkwardly. your eyes flit to him and the floor and he scoffs after a minute. slowly, gently, he grabs your wrist. slowly, gently going towards your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“stop being dumb and weird.” he scolds, before pulling you inside the bathroom with him.

you realise, really realise, with your back against his chest, how warm your boyfriend is.

he's always run hot and it came in especially handy during the harsher winter months. but now it's not cold, it can't possibly be when it feels like he's damn near running a fever behind you.

hot water be damned, he'd be able to heat up an ice cold bath all by himself you think. perhaps he'd always been this scorching, but it's the extra proximity that's making you realise it.

despite scolding you earlier for making it weird, katsuki is incredibly stiff. he'd been stiff when he swiftly turned around the moment he decide the water was an alright temperature, mumbling something about telling him when you got in. he'd kept his eyes aimed diligently at the ceiling of his bathroom and almost slipped when he tried to reach for the corner of his bathtub. you tried to spare him the embarrassment of giggling at his mumbled, butt naked cursing.

he'd scooched in behind you and it took him about a minute to let himself relax enough to let your skin touch. despite it being more convenient for him like he'd claimed, his hands stayed glued to the edge of the bathtub. the grip he has seems a little much, you can see his knuckles almost turning white, but his arms strain and bulge that way and you won't say that's not nice to look at.

you decide to make the move. you sigh, feigning relaxation despite your heart pounding, only intensifying when katsuki holds his breath for a second behind you. you make yourself more comfortable, leaning against him more and woah, he's scalding. you almost want to pull back, but you feel yourself leaning a bit further as you realise he's moved back too. his back now touching the edge of the tub. he hisses when the undoubtebly cold edge hits his skin.

slowly, slowly, the grip on the tub relaxes, and he lets himself dip around. fingertips slowly floating around in the water until they came to run up your arms. your shoulders, and he sighs then, really sighs like he's comfortable. and then all is good in the world again.

he's somewhat used to it now, and it's normal, almost second nature how he leans his head forward to land in the crook of your shoulder. he nuzzles into it more when you lean to the side to give him more space. he shoves his head in deeper, nudging his head to yours harder because he knows the tips of his hair tickle. and of course, ever the nuiscance, does it again and again until it has you giggling softly in the quiet of his bathroom.

and you think you could honestly get used to it.

"'ve been thinkin'.." you hear him mumble against your skin. you let out a hum when he doesn't continue. "'bout what ?" you ask sleepily.

"..bout you moving in, with me." he pauses, you pause. and it's quiet. again.

"o-oh yeah ? where did that come from ?" you try to keep your voice as steady as possible. your heart races and you feel it so hard you think it ripples in the water. you feel katsuki lift his head up lightly in confusion, but his eyes still won't move towards you.

"ya had something else planned 'r somethin' ?"

"no, no ! i'd wanna, i'm super down !" you're a bit louder than you mean to be, voice a bit breathier and higher in pitch and it echoes against the walls of the bathroom. katsuki's fingers twitch where they rest on the edge of the bathtub again and he sighs.

"i just didn't expect you to um-pop the question.." you trail off, you immediately mentally smack yourself for the wordage you used, because now you can't stop thinking about marrying him. you wished you could sink further into the water but now you're a little too aware of the hot skin pressed behind you.

katsuki doesn't look at you, he leans back until he's staring at the ceiling. you can tell he's trying to make himself more comfortable with the way he stiffens in an effort not to move like he usually would when he'd pretend to be unbothered. it tells you that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about the same thing as you.

he sighs, and he finally looks at you then. voice poised and calm, but his eyebrows furrow and there's a slight pink on his cheeks.

"just..more convenient that way. you're already here all the time anyway." his rough voice cracks just slightly, the hints of doubt peeking through him. after letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you hum again.

"y-yeah--yeah.." you manage. katsuki clicks his tongue behind you.

"look, if you don't wanna-" your boyfriend gulps back his next words when you lean back against him once more. stiffening, before finally calming down again.

"i do, i wanna move in with you. truly." you lean your head back enough to comfortably look at him so he can see how serious you are. it seems to stun him a bit, eyes widened. his lips tremble like he wants to speak but can't. and since he can't, he composes himself (tries to at least) and nods, mostly to himself rather than you.

"good..good.." he mutters. you nod as well, turning back and closing your eyes to try and calm your beating heart, to fully relax.

"mhm, good."

and it's quiet again. only the sound of soft breaths and beating hearts remain. you can almost feel his heartbeat pressed against your back.

"how long have you been thinking about it--me moving in and all ?"

he hums from behind you, now that he's calmed down, his shoulders relax and he gets just a bit bolder, rubbing a thumb against the skin of your upper arm.

"does it matter ?"

"yes."

he grumbles, obviously embarrassed. " a while." is what he settles with "figured it was about time."

about time, huh ? you nod, the room overtaken by silence yet again. a comfortable, warm one you could get used to.

"'sides, i know how much you miss me when you leave."

you scoff, rolling your eyes. he's ruined the moment like his big mouth usually does.

"oh please, you're the one that keeps calling me back the moment i do leave." you shoot back, it's katsuki's turn to scoff now.

" yeah, sure. just admit you're obsessed with me, babe." he sasses.

"oh, babe you forgot your sweater at my place so come back and get it. what? no, i can't bring it back you forgot it so you come get iiit !" you put on a nasally deep voice, waving your arms around in the water dramatically.

"s-shut up, moron !" katsuki stutters, his abrupt movements of disbelief causing the water to ripple and spill over from the tub. "i don't sound like that--"

"oh babe, now that you're here i actually just remembered you forgot to gimme my 5th goodbye kiss on the way out--"

"yn.." he warns lowly.

oh yn, if i could, i'd spent my entire life makin' out with you cus i wuv you sooo much, bleh bleh muah muah-- !" your crude little kissy noises are interrupted by your boyfriend furiously flicking water into your face. you squeal loudly, shrieking trying to block the jet stream with your arms. you laugh loudly as he continues attacking you from all sides and you're sure by now half of the water he's used was most definitely on the floor, but you really couldn't care less.

and frankly, you could get used to this.

taglist.

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[novemberheart]

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

{overview} Task force 141 has gone without an omega, despite needing one. Is their decision catching up to them?

{full story warning} a/b/o dynamics, poly 141 x reader, fem reader, omega reader, cursing, violence, blood, angst, future smut and suggestive language, chapter story, medical and military inaccuracies, age of reader not specified (adult tho)

{chapter warning} Nothing really, Simon needs medical attention

“Have you thought any more about my offer?”

“Have you thought any more about my answer?” John shot back, his arms folded across his chest. Kate sighed, digging her heels deeper into the dirt.

“They’re going to pair you up with one anyways, John. Wouldn't you rather they be chosen by me?” Kate pressed, turning to face the stubborn Captain. John pressed his lips together, his gaze distant.

“This a fact?” He hummed.

“They’re doing it all over the world. I'm sure your task force isn't out of the woods with this one.” Kate reminded. “Plus don't you think there could be some benefits?” Kate pressed.

“You think we need one?” John asked, his eyes finally landing on Kate.

“Honestly, yeah. I can smell it on you- all of you.” She spoke truthfully, her head glancing behind her at the three men lounging around in the dirt.

“We can talk about it later.” John shut down. “We’ve still got a job to do.”

“Business as usual, Captain.” 

“What’s his blood type?”

“B positive,” Johnny replied following the rolling gurney. The nurse rolled the gurney into another maze of hallways.

“Alpha, yeah?” She questioned. Johnny quickly replied with a yes, his hands digging into the fabric of his jeans. “What happened?”

“Shrapnel to the leg, maybe up higher?” Johnny explained, his eyes flickering behind him to John.

“He fell from quite a height too,” John added. The nurse nodded her head, pushing open two large doors with the gurney.

“You’ll have to wait here. Someone will come and see you when we’re done.” She explained the doors swinging shut behind her. For a few seconds, the doors opened, and the sound of utter chaos filled the hall. Johnny and Kyle winced the urge to follow- the urge to keep watch weighing on them.

“Steady now,” John spoke up, his hands resting on their heavy shoulders, guiding them towards some chairs a little further down the hall. “He’ll be fine, much to his annoyance.” They dry chuckled, sitting in the hard plastic chairs.

They sat for what felt like hours- maybe it was. Johnny had a hard time sitting in his seat, the blood in his veins still hot and swarming.

“You're making me dizzy, mate.” Kyle huffed, leaning down further in his seat. John hummed in agreement from next to him.

Finally, the two doors swung open, all of them standing at attention.

“Gentlemen? Simon Riley, yes?” The doctor asked, and they quickly nodded. She smiled causing relief to flood them. “He’ll be fine. He’ll need some recovery time though. Pulled some hot metal pieces out of his left leg, and treated it for some second-degree burns. He's going to have some intense brushing on his back and side- but no signs of internal bleeding. We also had to pop his shoulder back into place. Two weeks rest at the very least.” She explained. “He's already been wheeled to his holding place, but he’s not quite ready for visitors yet.”

“Instincts?” Kyle questioned.

“Correct. It seems like he's been passed out for a while, don't want him waking up still thinking he's on the field.” She responded. “Now would be a good time for the pack omega to join him. Or if they can't come, maybe something holding their scent. It'll calm him and make his adjustment easier.”

They paused, looking at each other before John spoke up.

“We don't have an omega,” John said, with a clear of his throat. The doctor's eye widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Oh.” She smiled slightly. “That changes things slightly. Without an omega, his healing time will be at least four to six weeks.”

It was their turn for their eyes to widen.

“We might have some extra clothes with omega scent on them. Now because he's not bonded it might not help by much, but it could make his waking up easier.” The doctor offered.

“I think a new scent’ll throw him off,” Kyle interjected. The others nodded their heads in agreement.

“Of course.” She smiled politely. “He’s on the fourth floor, room B12. I suggest waiting till tomorrow morning for visitation.”

“Thank you, doctor.” They said in unison. They watched as she spun on her heels, steering herself back into the double doors. John pulled out his phone from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Johnny asked.

“Calling Kate.”

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! The next chapter will be posted in three days! See you next time! 🤎🧡

[whirlybirbs]

BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 

ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear. 

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 

You hope it all works out for her in the end. 

But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 

And so this has been home for the last four months. 

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers. 

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131. 

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door. 

Your boots follow in a trail. 

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo. 

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too. 

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London. 

1977, huh. Zaniac. 

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 

And he's here, wasting his damn time. 

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 

He has to... He...

He needs you back. 

Now. 

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part three)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader returns to New York for the first time after Steve left, reuniting with Bucky. We see a little more of what the reader and Steve went through while on the run.

themes/warnings : pining, tension, unrequited love, two sad saps (reader and Bucky) trying to get over trauma and heartache :(, language, brief mention of injuries

word count : <2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2024, three months after Steve's departure

You just finished your second mission since the final battle.

Since Tony. Since Nat.

Since... him.

Only three months, or rather, three long months. You don't know why Sam was worried that you are apparently overworking yourself.

He keeps calling you up, checking in from time to time, making sure that you are allowing yourself to relax. Have a little break. Stay with them in New York for a while. Maybe even have a couple of sessions with the therapist Bucky is seeing.

He must have done a darn good job at convincing you, or maybe you were just exhausted, because you arrive back in New York soon enough.

And Bucky comes knocking on your door not long after.

Your eyes meet, both of you blocking your doorway. Not a single word needs to be said - the understanding you two share runs much deeper.

Two kindred abandoned souls and whatnot.

You step aside to let him through and close the door behind him. His hair is trimmed shorter now, and with his getup, he could pass as just another civilian. It takes another beat of silence before he finally asks, "So how are you?"

You snort at how ridiculous his question sounds. He knows. "How are you?" you counter, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Touché," he says, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it atop your kitchen island. He knows his way around. He's been here before, on the many nights you both shared drinks with Natasha, Sam and... him.

Damn it. You curse internally. It's okay, his name was Steve. He's not the fucking boogeyman.

He gives you a quick once over, immediately noticing that you're putting a lot of your weight on your left leg.

"I fell out a window," you sigh.

"Fuck's sake," he grimaces, shaking his head.

"Hey, we can't all be super soldiers, Buck. My muscles are just a bit softer than yours."

He presses on, still concerned, "Checked in for your physical yet?"

"Booked it for tomorrow," you respond. "But it shouldn't be too bad."

You feel his eyes continue to scan you, but in a non-invasive way. He's checking for more injuries, more signs of wear and tear. He's a lot like Steve, but his gaze is different, less commanding.

More broken.

"Anything new?" you have to ask to distract yourself, and he picks up on it right away. About Steve. He hasn't shown up like he said he would. You had been dreading it - the possibility of seeing a much older Steve, after he got to live out his life in this timeline.

He promised he would try and find you. A version of him, at least. White-haired and wrinkled and weary, but still your Steve. He said you would see him again, in what would be his future and your present, and say a real goodbye. Maybe even tell you all about his life and his girl.

You thought you blocked all that out, but sadly it did not slip your mind. You remember. And you didn't want to be there when it happens.

But nothing did, and you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"Nothing," Bucky shakes his head. "But Dr. Banner is keeping track on whether there are any anomalies in the timeline, specifically in where Steve went back. Everything seems to be normal."

He's fine, and he finally got his normal. And you should let go.

As if he can read your mind, Bucky says, "It's hard to let go, isn't it?"

He's struggling. Of course he is. Bucky also has an old skin to shed, and bones to bury. You never encountered the Winter Soldier back in the day, but you heard of him.

Once you got to know Bucky, you never needed to know anything else. This is who he really is, and he's a good person. He's your friend.

And Steve trusted him. He believed in him. That would have been enough in your eyes, if anything.

"What makes you think I haven't let go yet?" you smile weakly.

He exhales, smiling back. Because, he seems to say, I know you.

Stepping forward, he opts for putting a hand on your shoulder first, unsure. He squeezes gently once, but then changes his mind and pulls you in for a hug at the last second, careful not to add any stress on your leg.

It takes the breath out of you, with his vibranium arm wrapped around your midtorso.

"I'm glad you're back," he mumbles against your hair.

Bucky knows that only you would really understand. The others, maybe they loved Steve too. Admired him. But it was different with the two of you.

Clint can move on with his family. Sam has his new responsibilties. Thor is out of world. Wanda has her own burden to bear. The world will go on as it always has.

But not for us, you think. As he held you tight, you decide that you will help Bucky through it. You will make sure that he gets the peace that he deserves and he is able to let go of Steve. Even if doesn't happen for you, this would be enough.

You offer him a drink after a moment, and he accepts without hesitation.

This is how it starts. This is how the two of you begin to move on.

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2017, ten months after the Avengers' Civil War

"Where were you?" Steve's voice came from somewhere in the room. He was seated in the small living room of your shared cabin, blinds drawn shut, almost out of sight.

You twisted around, and let your duffel bag fall to the floor. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you let out a shaky breath. "What the hell, Steve, you nearly scared me."

You rummaged through the cupboard, looking for your stashed whiskey. "Nearly," you repeated in jest, when you heard him making his way to you.

You got a much better look at him then. His hair had darkened due to its length, and his beard was thicker. You were going to need several swigs of hard alcohol to resist jumping his bones.

"I was worried," he said, and his tone was gentler. It made you feel guilty, and you didn't know why. "I came back from Wakanda and you were gone."

"I wasn't gone, Steve. Sam needed help getting away with something, you know how it is. We don't exactly have a set schedule on when and where to go, given our fugitive status."

"I know, I know," he said right away, frustrated. What's wrong with him? "But you could have called, left a note - "

"A note could have been intercepted."

" - anything. Just to let me know how you are. You could have been taken in for all I know - "

"You really think I would let them take me in?"

He threw a stern glare your way, propping a hand on his hip. Based on his stance, you thought of how it looked like Captain America was about to give you a good scolding.

But you beat him to it. You were just too tired, and your arm was killing you. "Look, Steve, I had to help Sam and you were still in Wakanda checking up on Bucky. I didn't think it was a big deal. I thought I would be back here by the time you - "

"What's wrong with your arm?" he interrupted you, his practiced eyes easily noticing the damage, and reached for your forearm. "Take your jacket off."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head before you can catch yourself. "What?" you squeaked, but you knew just what he meant.

Steve was on full Captain mode, always looking out for anyone he feels responsible for. That's all it was. You had to remind your hopeful self that it was nothing more.

His hands were waiting by the neckline of your jacket, asking for permission. Ever so polite, even when his mood is sour.

You can ignore a lot of things, compartmentalize your emotions. You're used to it all, not getting too attached to anyone or anything as a result of your chosen life.

But you couldn't ignore the burning feeling his fingertips left behind as they grazed your skin. When he guided you to the couch so he can take a better look at the bruises on your arm, you were seated close. The closest you've ever been to each other, but he didn't look fazed at all.

Of course not. This doesn't mean the same to him, as it does to me.

You watched him the entire time, his long eyelashes almost grazing his cheek as he looked down at his work. His brows furrowed in concentration. Once in a while, he mumbled something that sounded like, never should've happened, or gotta watch out next time.

It didn't take long for him to fix you up nicely, your arm disinfected and wrapped in gauze.

After you thanked him, you stood from the seat, ready to compartmentalize that moment too. Because that was not the time to go falling for anyone, especially not someone who was just too good for you.

But he grabbed your hand before you walked away, looking up at you as he stayed seated.

"Steve?" There it was again, that burning. That warmth. If he didn't notice the goosebumps on your skin before, you were sure he saw them then.

"I - " he hesitated, before finally deciding on, "I'm glad you're okay."

You tilted your head, smiling. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, y'know."

His worried and serious expression drops and he smiled, eyes all crinkled.

And that was one sight you won't ever be able to ignore.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

A week later, Natasha dropped by. Sporting a brand new white-blonde hairdo that suited her just as fine as her signature red.

You teased her about it, saying how she must have been waiting for an opportunity like this to have an excuse to drastically switch out her hairstyle.

The two of you sat on the bench on the patio while Steve chopped up wood in the distance, looking like a right ol' lumberjack.

He looked too damn good, and it annoyed you. He wasn't making any of it easy.

"You could switch your hair out too, you know. It helps in going incognito," she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair.

You swatted her hand away playfully, grinning, "Oh, but my face is too memorable so it might not even work."

"Oh really?" she smiled, with that mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, Steve certainly seems to think so."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"He looks at you like you're his sun or something," she stretched out, amused by the obvious rush of blood to your face.

You shook your head profusely, because of how wrong you thought her assumptions were. "He looks at me because there's no one else around here to look at. Not for at least fifty miles or even more."

"Honey, please. It's my job to know these things."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhmm," she patted your knee, tilting her head in Steve's direction without turning to look at him. "I'm willing to bet Tony's LA mansion that he's looking at you right now."

"No, he's not - "

"Then prove me wrong."

But you turned, and you couldn't prove her wrong.

Your eyes met Steve's and when he realized your attention was on him, he simply smiled.

Like you were his sun, Natasha had said. But she was a bit off the mark.

You were never Steve's sun, but he was yours.

Read part four here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx

It will be a bit more of jumping back and forth through time, before we see everyone back together (even Steve? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

It's the start of a potential Bucky x reader. I gotta be careful here because I might just flip and want the reader to be with him instead.. who could ever look over Bucky???? He's going to make it hard for us that's for sure.

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - i.

part ii.

“I’m not asking you to stay. I’m asking if this was ever real?” - Wanda Maximoff

“The issue with time is that it’s endless, yet, there’s never enough. How does it fit with us?” - Rio Vidal

“You were never a priority, but you became one that I can’t lose now.” - Agatha Harkness

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, and rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: cursing, angst, intimate moments but not sex, and other stuff that i'll add as time goes on.

notes: this one has been in my drafts for a long time. i did a little bit of revision and editing, but i am busy and i do want to get this story going. as it goes on I will be more efficient with the editing. it is also a college au so there is no witches or anything like that, but other works will be! enjoy! chapters will be longer and the writing will get better. It’s been awhile since I’ve actually written a story, but I’ve been working on so many other projects and I had this all planned out before I got my new job.

word count: 1.4k

・❥・

There was never a time where you ever thought you’d be losing your sanity. Months ago, you only ever known the beauty of peace, having full control over your thoughts and emotions with no consequences. Where does the chaos abruptly begin, how does it begin, and why does it begin?

Because fuck all that, why do you have to be involved in a mess that you didn’t ask for?

You stared out of your dorm window, tracing the movement of students below as they hurried between classes. The campus was alive with energy—laughter, chatter, and the constant shuffle of feet on the worn pathways—but it all felt distant to you, like watching life happen through a glass pane. From the outside, you seemed well-adjusted. A few close friends, decent grades, a knack for blending in at social events. But lately, you had begun to feel a quiet, persistent void growing inside, one that friendship, academic success, and even casual flings couldn’t quite fill.

It wasn't that you were lonely in the traditional sense. In fact, you had friends—great friends who provided the utmost support in all that you do. Natasha Romanoff from work, Kate Bishop from short-film club, Steve Rogers from gym (he was also Natasha’s boyfriend), Tony Stark who crashed into your car the first day of move-in (he paid for all damages after you punched him), and Wanda Maximoff, your best friend. Wanda had been by your side for years, a constant source of home. There was so much to your overall relationship with her that it couldn’t be replicated with the others or anyone. Even if you were to try.

But no matter how much you spent time with Wanda, she found her footing in rather quick. And while you don’t want to assume things are going well for her, you could at least tell she was happiest when she was in the arms of her obnoxious, academically skilled boyfriend, Vision. Vision who is ahead of the IT program, the captain of the golf team, and somehow Tony’s coworker at Stark’s Industries (who cares about some intellectual freak? Not you).

Anyway, it felt like there was something missing, some deeper connection you couldn’t quite grasp. Sometimes, you’d feel yourself pulling back in conversations, faking a smile here and there when noticing yourself drifting out of sync.

You sigh as you turned away from the window, grabbing your backpack, and slinging it over your shoulder. Another day of classes to get to, papers to turn in, and your typical routine to follow. It all felt so automatic, like living on autopilot.

Perhaps there was something you weren’t doing. Maybe you were actively doing something to avoid fulfilling that aspect of void?

Your phone buzzed on the desk—Wanda.

“Dinner tonight?” She asks once you pick up. “And I swear if you say no, I am going to drive to your class and drag you out myself.”

 You considered telling her no for a moment but it’s Wanda and because of that you say, “Sure. Just don’t barge in like last time. Felt like I got in trouble with my mother…”  Despite your growing sense of detachment, you couldn’t bring herself to decline. You’ve been avoiding her like the plague. She’s your best friend and has asked to hang out for the last month or so only for you to be nowhere. Questions were beginning to rise, and you weren’t ready to answer any of them.

Her laughter echoed through and you kind of forget that you were falling into a hole of emptiness. “Look, I gotta go,  I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah. See you, dekta.”

Dekta. It was always that.

As you made your way across campus, weaving through the throngs of students, you felt a heaviness settle in your chest. Classes, work, clubs, and repeat. How was it that you could be surrounded by people, involved in their lives, and still feel like an outsider looking in?

You loved your friends, or at least you thought you did, but lately, even that felt like a lie you told yourself. You enjoyed your courses. So what if you have to stay up until 2am for shoots and editing, you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t enjoy it. Actually, you were late to register, and this was kind of a last minute decision.  And you were president for the short film club, but you kind of are guessing why you’re doing this all because you hate people.

The reality is, it’s to avoid facing the deeper truth: that connection, the real kind, the kind that made you feel alive and seen. Not just from relationships, courses, and social life.

Was this what your life was going to be? Always on the fringes, never fully connecting? You wanted more but didn’t know how to get it. Maybe you didn’t even know what “more” really was.

You were good at pretending everything was fine, good at putting on a show of contentment. But deep down, you knew you were waiting for something—or someone—to break through that glass pane that kept you at arm’s length from everyone around.

But until then, you’d keep going, navigating your college life as best as you could, feeling more like an observer than a participant.

・❥・

You sat across from Wanda at your usual spot in the campus dining hall, picking at her salad as Wanda animatedly recounted the latest drama involving her boyfriend, Vision. You nodded along, making the appropriate sounds of sympathy and surprise, but part of you couldn't help but tune out the problem.

“I swear, sometimes he just doesn’t listen,” Wanda continued, exasperation creeping into her voice. “Last night I..." She sighed, looking down at her food. "I told him I needed space and time to collect my thoughts about where this is going, but he kept calling and texting, so we could talk it out..."

You forced yourself back into the conversation. “Sounds like he’s not respecting your boundaries,” you offered, glancing up at Wanda. You couldn’t help the slight resentment that crept in whenever Vision came up. There was always an unspoken tension in your friendship, one that emerged whenever Wanda talked about her boyfriend.

You didn’t know exactly why you disliked him—maybe it was his arrogant demeanor, or the way he always seemed to treat Wanda as an accessory rather than an equal. She would often vent about the small ways in which he let her down, like forgetting their date plans or brushing off her opinions, but then she would always follow it up with some form of an excuse that he cares. You would just nod along, hiding the skepticism behind a supportive smile.

"Tell me about it,” Wanda huffed, shaking her head. “It's a flaw of his and when the time is right, we'll discuss it and how we can better ourselves. Enough about me though, how about you? Anything exciting that requires you to get out of that hermit crab shell of yours? Maybe with...that TA? Angus, right?"

You snickered but also couldn’t help but notice how Wanda seemed to skirt around anything serious about her relationship with Vision (what a prick). There was a glint of something—maybe uncertainty, maybe resignation—in her eyes when she spoke about him. You wondered if Wanda was just as skilled at pretending everything was fine as you were. It made you feel a little less alone, knowing you weren’t the only one hiding something.

Yet, despite your doubts about the boyfriend, you never voiced your concerns outright. The last thing you wanted was to come across as jealous or possessive. Deep down, you wondered if there was a part of you that simply didn’t want to share Wanda—a feeling you quickly buried before it could grow into something more troubling.

Your face flushed at the mention of Agatha, and you quickly took a sip of water to hide the embarrassment. “Her name is Agnes,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes for effect. So, maybe you kind of lied. Only because you didn't want Wanda to track and stalk the girl. "And she's just intriguing..."

"Intriguing, huh?” Wanda teased. “You should talk to her more. Or, you know, talk to her at all.”

“Very funny,” You shot back. “It’s not that simple.”

But maybe it was. Maybe if you could muster up the courage to actually talk to Agatha, you’d feel less like you were floating aimlessly and more like you were taking control of your own life. You could already hear Wanda’s voice in your head, encouraging you to just go for it, to not overthink it, to take a chance.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: Some Soulmate - Chapter One

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Parings: Paul Lahote x Reader

Description: Y/N a member of the Cullen family is imprinted on by one of the wolves, she is shocked, he is shocked. She is struggling with drinking animal blood over human, and he is disgusted by a vampire for a soulmate… But maybe it could work..?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1,819

"Good morning" I smiled as I skipped into the living room, I wiped the blood from my mouth, my hunt was successful, disgusting, but successful. Deer blood will never quench my thirst, but to stay with my family this was to stay part of my diet. 

"Good morning Y/N, how was your hunt?" Carlisle, my longest friend asked me. I smiled weakly, I was so hungry. Esme appeared behind me, before I could answer, she placed both her hands on my shoulders giving me a tight squeeze. I always felt so loved when she was around, it relaxed me. 

"It was okay, better than last time" I answered. I was lying of course. I missed human blood more than I could even explain. I suppose one good thing that comes from only drinking animal blood was my eye colour, I must preferred the amber over the red. Of course the Amber still didn't compare to my human blue eyes. 

"Are you ready Y/N?" Alice asked me. I nodded and followed him and the rest of my siblings out the door. Luckily we were taking Rosalie's car today, I preferred her driving over Edwards. Luckily Edward was out picking his human up and taking her to school. 

I hated how Edward always smelled like her now, her blood was intoxicating. Jasper struggles too, I suppose it makes me feel better that I'm not struggling alone. I'm not sure how Edward copes. I remember when I had a blood singer, only once it had happened to me. Of course I killed him, I hadn't been a vampire long. 

We spent most of the drive silently, as we normally did. Then Alice turned back to me, smirking. 

"Guess what?"

"What?" I asked, I had an inking to what she was going to say. 

"Mike's going to try again today" She giggled.

I groaned, ever since we started at this school, two years ago, Mike Newton had tried, every few weeks to ask me out, and even though I'd say no, every time, he continues to ask. I wonder if he'd ever get bored. 

"A few months and then it's over" I smile, thinking of never having to go back to that place, I had decided this was the last time I'd attend school, at least maybe for a while. Luckily I was in the same school year as Rose and Emmett, meaning I could escape sooner. I also couldn't wait for people to stop telling me I look way too old to be in High School. Physically I was 21, way over high school age, but I had a baby face. 

We arrived at school to see Edward with his arm over Bella, I thought they weren't going to become a official thing.  I climbed out of the car.

"I'll see you at lunch" I smiled at my siblings before I set off inside the school. I had English first, a class I didn't mind too much. But of course Mike was waiting outside of my classroom, I'm sure he knows my schedule better than I do. 

"Hey Y/N!" He grinned happily. 

I muttered a small hello, he smelt so strongly of his aftershave, it was burning my nose. 

"Prom's coming up, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?" He asked, I pretended to take a deep breath. 

"No thank you Mike, I've said before I won't be going" I smiled sweetly, and then I pushed past him to get into my class.

~~~~~~~~

I didn't pay attention to the class, I knew everything that was being taught. Another reason why I was excited to leave, maybe I could get a job, or take another college course. I'm sure there's something I haven't read about yet. I found myself drifting into a daydream, I was excited for my life after school, but of course I'd have to stay close to the family, otherwise it would upset Carlisle and Esme, and I'd do anything for them. 

'It had been a few months since I had become a vampire, and I was leaving a long string of bodies behind me, it was so easy to keep going. No more would every suspect the woman who could easily bat her eyes and get away with whatever she wanted. It was the year 1887, I was 21. I was never meant to become a vampire, but one night, a man grabbed me, and started drinking my blood, he was going to kill me. But someone or something stopped him, and I was left to die in an alley. I was suppose to die in that alley, but a few hours late I woke up, changed. 

I was all alone, and so scared. 

Until a man found me, he was a strange man, I thought he was human at first, but just a second before I lunged I couldn't hear his heartbeat, couldn't feel the heat of his blood. I had never met another vampire. Not since I became one. 

"Who are you?" I hissed, my teeth bearing at him. 

"My name is Carlisle, if you'd let me, I'd like to help you" He smiled, I felt a warm feeling wash over me, maybe I could trust him?'

When I met Carlisle he took me in, tried to show me the vegetarian way. But I've struggled with it. After a few months with Carlisle, we realised I had a gift. Not a big one, but I can always tell what someone thinks of me, how they feel about me. It's how I could tell Carlisle was to be trusted. I can always tell if someone likes me, to dislikes me. It made hunting so fun, I could always tell if someone thought I was beautiful, it meant I could seduce them, and feed from them. 

It's how I can tell Mike only thinks I look nice, he doesn't care about anything else. 

Once class was over, and another class droned one, it was finally time for lunch. I had a blacked out water bottle full of animal blood. It was gross. 

I sat along side my siblings, except Edward, he chose to sit with Bella. I envied them almost.

Edward and I were the last two without mates. Now it was just me. 154 Years old, and I had never found someone who made me feel complete. My family had, and I endured seeing it everyday. I'm sure if my heart still worked it would be constantly breaking. 

I sipped my drink loudly, my siblings hated when I did that. I smirked at them and carried on..

~~~~~~~~

"Y/N" Esme called, I left my room and followed the noise coming from the kitchen, I walked in and was shocked. My family were cooking, actually cooking. 

"What's happening here?" I asked, watching them. I had no clue what they were even making.

"Edward is brining Bella here" Esme beamed, I rolled my eyes playfully at her, but then felt my throat burn.

"And I want everyone to be welcoming" She added. 

I put my hand to my throat and rubbed it absently. 

"Esme, I don't know if I can" I panicked "I'm worse than Jasper"

She pulled me into her arms and hugged me for a few seconds. 

"You'll be okay" I smiled at her, and stepped closer to Emmett. He was strong enough to stop me if needed. 

"Is she even Italian?" Rosalie asked. 

"Her names Bella" Emmett answered as if it was completely obvious. I started chucking at him, until I smelt it. 

Bella, her blood, it smelt amazing, intoxicating. I held onto the breakfast bar and tried concentrating. 

"Here comes the human" Rosalie sung. 

Edward and Bella walked in, Edward introduced her to Esme and Carlisle, and then brought Bella over to me. I wanted to kill him for bringing her closer. 

"This is Y/N, she's actually the third eldest in the family, after Carlisle and Jasper" He chuckled, but stopped when he saw my face. I'm sure he could hear me cursing him in my head. 

"Yes Edward, mention my age" I said grimly, but it gave me an excuse to walk out. I needed to hunt.

I left my house quick, and ran into the forest, I found something to feed on, and managed to get blood all over myself. I looked a complete state. I slumped against a tree, and sat. I sat and sat for hours, thinking, and making a weird little flower chain. I was quite content, and calming myself down. Until I heard a growl. 

I looked up, and jumped in fear, I jumped so I was clinging onto the tree a few feet off the ground. 

I heard the growl again, realising it was probably a animal, I jumped to the ground. I was still thirsty, perhaps I could find the source. Without a sound I slowly started walking towards the animal, I had picked up it's scent, it was foul smelling. No animal I had smelt before. 

I stopped, deciding to find a more appealing animal, until it jumped into the clearing. 

"Oh, it's one of you" I hissed, one of the shapeshifters. I hadn't seen this wolf before, not that I had seen many. He was dark silver, and was looking incredibly angry at me. 

I looked into its eyes, I wasn't sure if it was going to attack or not, but I wasn't going to make a move. Suddenly I felt something wash over me, a strong feeling of love and care, it confused me. I didn't understand what was happening, but the feeling was coming from him. 

"What's happening" I stutter at the wolf. The wolf looked scared now, he growled once more and ran off. I copied, and ran home, fast. 

"Carlisle" I screamed when I got close enough to the house. My family were outside the greet me, all of them worried.

"He imprinted on you" Edward suddenly said, I was still confused.

"What?" I screamed, they all flinched. 

"Imprinting is when a wolf finds their soulmate" Carlisle explained carefully 

"So a wolf is my soulmate? They hate us! They want us dead!" I yelled "Not to mention I'm not even allowed on their land"

I started walking towards the house, wanting to be away from everyone. 

"Some soulmate" I scoffed to myself, knowing the others could hear too. 

I walked into my room, shutting my door and locking it. 

I grabbed my laptop and started researching about the wolves, and their legends, and mostly about imprinting. Apparently it didn't happen very often, it was described as extremely rare. I didn't even know the wolf, I had no way of finding out who he was either. I wasn't allowed on their land, not that I was brave enough to even go close. 

To make matters even worse, I'm not sure there was anything I could even speak to about this.. 

Next Part

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 7/?

Had some time during my layover, so here's the next chapter, hope y'all enjoy! Don't know quite when the next chapter will be, since I'll be on vacation, but I'll try to get something out in hopefully not too long. Just a smigde of info, reader has tried to look up treatments for the pain caused by soulmates, the only one that really works is to be near them. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, slightly suggestive, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 1659

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

This time it’s a week and a half before you see them. Your sanity might be thanking the universe, but your body does not. You’re stiff, your shoulders and back constantly. You’ve taken to taking long and scolding baths to ease the pain, it helps for a bit since painkillers won’t. Which you discovered through lived and read experience. 

So, in a way, it’s good that you meet them again, even if you will barely admit that to yourself.

This time it is in a place you didn’t think would be their scene. 

This time you are a bouncer at a nightclub, a favor for Dave who got food poisoning. You groaned over the phone when he asked for the favor, but said yes after he promised to buy several rounds for you next time you go drinking with him. It gives you a reason to leave your apartment, to try to live life normally.

So now you are getting paid to look tough and check ID’s, and have free drinks to look forward to later. So, a win-win. Even if you have to deal with drunk people, and you can’t go armed, since the dress pants and t-shirt that is the uniform doesn’t hide much. Technically you shouldn’t need to be armed for this job, but it always feels more safe to be than to not be, especially with your life.

It’s a win-win until you spot two familiar people in your line into the club. 

Two annoyingly familiar people. 

Wade’s wearing tight black leather pants, a black plastic cowboy hat, a pink hello kitty long-sleeve that sits plastered to his muscled torso, a pink bandana covering the lower half of his face, and matching pink chunky closed toe high heels. 

It makes him taller than Logan, who’s wearing black jeans, boots, and a tight black shirt that is unbuttoned to show a hefty amount of chest hair on his muscled chest. 

They both have glitter on their cheekbones, which glint in the light outside of the club as they talk to each other, not having noticed you yet.

They look kinda ridiculous.

But hey, opposites attract you guess.

You know you are stuck until they notice you. You can’t just leave, there’s too many people in line, it would take forever to get everyone in if there was just one bouncer. So, you are forced by the universe to stay put, watching as your soulmates get closer and closer, even as much as you want them to go further and further away. (Though your body screams for the complete opposite.)

When they are just a few people away, Logan catches your gaze. His eyes narrow, before flicking down to Wade, pushing at his arm, directing his attention to you instead of him. Wade grins as he spots you, you can tell because he pulls the bandana down to his neck instead.

“Oh heyyyy.” Wade drags out, grinning, while Logan watches you, saying nothing.

“This doesn't seem like your scene.”

“Not like you would know that, little pookie, you need to know people to know where they like to have fun.” There’s a shot of bitterness in Wade’s tone and your bond, but it’s gone before you can dwell on it as Wade keeps looking at you, unashamedly checking you out.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just go inside.” You gesture for them to walk past you as you open the rope in front of the club door, but both of them stay put.

“Not gonna check ID’s?” Wade grins, fluttering his eyelashes, the only kind of hair he has (you assume). You and Logan snort in unison.

“Neither of you look 20.” And you don’t doubt both of them could get a fake ID with ease. 

“Not interested in seeing our ages pookie?”

“Not in the slightest. Now get the fuck inside before I change my mind and keep you out here.”

“You say that like being here with you is a threat and not a treat.” Wade winks, but walks past you to go inside. Logan follows right behind him, giving you a quick once over.

“What was that?” The other bouncer leans over to half-whisper after you’ve let a few more people in.

“It’s complicated.”

“They trouble?” 

“Only for my own sanity.” It’s with great annoyance you realize your shoulders feel just a tad lighter.

—---

A few hours later, you have moved from the door and are making the rounds through the club. People going in have slowed, meaning you are not needed outside anymore. It feels good to be moving, even as your body aches and hurts. 

The club is packed inside, the loud and rhythmic music making sure the dance floor is crowded with people in varying states of drunkenness. There’s probably some other substances too, but people are behaving for now, as your eyes scan the crowd you spot nothing that you need to stop.

As you walk through the edge of the crowd, you slowly become aware that your bond is more open, as something starts to filter through the low, but constant, hum of the bonds.

It’s not something you can immediately identify. It’s certainly something you’ve felt before, it’s just been a while, and you’ve never felt it this clearly through the bond before. A hint here and there, but you can hardly blame them for being human. 

It’s desire. Arousal. Lust. Horny, if you are going to be slightly less fancy about it. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, and sigh as you rub your forehead. You close your eyes, letting the bond guide you for the briefest of moments. 

It takes a couple of tries of you closing your eyes for you to be led to a metal door in a corner next to the bar marked “Employees Only” in red letters. The lights of the club dance over the letters as you push the door open, and the music spills out into the alley before you let the door fall closed behind you. There’s not much here, just the concrete steps you are standing on, a couple of dumpsters, a wooden bench with an ashtray drilled into the armrest. And two people pressed against the brickwall of the neighboring building.

“You guys should not be here.” Wade pulls away from Logan, turning his head to look over his own shoulder, grinning. His hands are in Logan’s hair, Logan’s hands are on his hips, neither of them let go of the other.

“Pookie! Fancy meeting you here!” You scowl at Wade, then meet Logan’s own scowling face, before he hides his face in Wade’s shoulder, but you do catch the beginning of a smirk before it's hidden from view.

“See peanut! I told you he would feel it.” Absent-mindedly you notice the glitter has moved from just Wade’s cheekbone to his lips as well, and his neck, just above where his bandana now sits.

“Feel what?” Wade ignores the question for a moment, kissing the top of Logan’s head. The bond still isn’t fully closed, as you feel another wave of arousal wash over you, making you take a deep breath. It feels strange, like it wants to settle in your gut, but just flows through you. “Well, now at least we know our bonds aren’t platonic! Well, we knew ours wasn’t-” Wade ruffles Logan’s hair, you see his hands clench Wade’s waist tighter “-but now we know for all of us! How exciting.”

You don’t know that to say to any of this, you rarely do, so you revert back to old habits.

“Like I said, you shouldn’t be here.” A brief spike of disappointment, then your bond is finally blessedly quiet again. Wade grins, but it’s a lot less teasing than earlier in the night.

“Ohhh, I like it when you get all bossy. Gonna start manhandling us? You are more than welcome to.” Wade keeps the grin on his face, Logan shakes his head against his shoulder. Or he’s rubbing against it, you are not sure.

“I will call the fucking cops.” Wade sticks out his tongue at you.

“Party pooper. Come one peanut, let's go home.” Wade plants one last quick kiss on Logan before turning towards you, dislodging Logan’s hands from his hips, taking one of them in his own. “At least you are a lot less stabby tonight.” 

“I am unarmed.” Wade gasps, overly dramatic. You don’t even know why you offer up that tidbit. Not like it was hard to guess with your outfit though.

“Oh my god, our baby is naked. Quick, cover your eyes!” He moves his hands back towards Logan’s face, Logan smacks them away with a grunt.

“I am not yours anything, and quit it with those fucking nicknames. There’s no way to hide anything in these dress pants.”

“No, you can indeed not hide a lot in those.” Both of their eyes wander over your form, you feel anger rise, and push it through both of their bonds. 

“Again, I will call the cops.”

“Again, party pooper.” Wade retorts, but drags Logan with him towards the door. You swear you feel him brush against you when he goes past, but by the time you process the light touch and turn around to look at him, all you see is their backs before the door shuts behind them. 

You stay behind, breathing in and out through your nose. Calming yourself down, the usual background hum of your bond fraying at your nerves. 

Fuck, your body hurts. But for a moment the pain had eased.

You shove your hands in your pockets, surprised when your fingers feel different fabric. 

Fishing it out, you are met with the sight of Wade’s bandana in your hand. You stare at it. It’s soft, there’s little horses on it in a darker shade of pink.

You ball it up in a fist and stare at the door to the bar.

(Part 8)

[lumiolivier]

Another Man's Treasure

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2339

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Mihawk's week to have you all to himself. You have your traditions. However, that doesn't mean they can't be so rudely interrupted.

A/N: So, yeah...You guys seem to keep liking these things. As long as you do, I'm just going to have to keep cranking them out. At least until you tell me you're sick of them.

Tags: @tavsianus @canyouhearthecoyotes @cheese-it-jr

“YN…” Mihawk liked his alone time.  But he liked it with you much more.  And there was one thing he loved with you more than anything else in the world.  However, he couldn’t seem to find you.  It was his week.  It was his turn.  And yet…Where could you possibly be?

You weren’t intentionally hiding.  You were just dragged out against your will.  An average Tuesday around the castle.  But it also meant Perona having her claws in you.  Granted, you loved Perona.  She was a sweetheart.  But of all times for her to drag you away, now was not the time.  It was the start of Mihawk’s week.  You two had a tradition.  And Perona knew it all too well.  But you also knew that dear, sweet Perona was an agent of chaos, no matter whose week it was.  It didn’t matter whose week it was.  It was always Perona’s week.

“You do know he’s going to kill you, right?” You sat still while Perona had your hands practically pinned down.  Because if you weren’t Buggy’s doll, you were hers.  And she wanted to try her hand at acrylics.  And your hands happened to be available. 

“Who, Mihawk?” Perona scoffed, “Please.  Look at my cute little face.  Like he could hate me for any reason.  He can’t be mad at me, YN.  I’m me.”

“Someone thinks awfully highly of herself,” you teased her.

“It’s not me being conceded,” Perona assured you, “It’s just fact.  Mihawk can’t be mad at me.  And if he is, it’s not for long.”

“Damn,” you let her have that one, “Good for you, Perona.”

“And I know he’s going to thank me,” Perona grinned, “I know it’s his week and you better be putting those nails to good use.”

“Perona!”

“You act like I don’t know what goes on behind those closed doors,” she rolled her eyes, “You and Mihawk are the worst.  I hear that headboard slamming into the wall.”

“Perona!” Immediately, your cheeks got hot.

“What?” she squeaked, “I’m just saying.  I’m proud of you!  No need to be such a prude.”

“I’m not…!” You wanted to strangle her.  But by some act of the divine, you keep your freshly manicured hands to yourself.  Miraculously.  You had to admit, though.  Perona did a great job for it being her first time, “Thank you, Perona…”

“You’re very welcome, YN,” Perona gave you a little smirk, “Now, those better have Mihawk’s blood on them by the end of the night.”

“Perona!”

“YN!”

“There you are, Darling,” Mihawk walked into Perona’s room, his face scrunching up, “Perona, what the hell were you doing in here?”

“Ask your lady friend,” Perona threw you to the sharks, “She’s the one who got what I did.”

“Perona gave me a mani,” You showed off your new black and silver nails…that Perona wanted blood on, “I think they worked out nicely.”

“Of course, they did,” Mihawk put your hands up to his lips, “They’re on your beautiful hands, treasure.  I’d expect nothing less.  Now, come with me.  You and I have important business to attend to.”

“Lambskin or latex, protection’s the best!” Perona called after you.

“Perona…” Mihawk scolded her.  But only for a brief moment.  She was right.  Mihawk couldn’t be mad at Perona for long.  You were impressed.

“You two have fun…” Perona shot you a wink.

“Don’t you listen to a word she says,” Mihawk took you away down the hall. You smelled something sweet, yet a touch earthy, “Perona doesn’t know what she’s talking about.  Besides, you know vbetter, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you stood on your toes and kissed Mihawk’s cheek, “We don’t fuck on the first night.  You’re much more of a gentleman than that.”

“Obviously.” Mihawk led you through his bedroom and into his bathroom covered in beautiful black marble and mother of pearl.  The steam filled the air and you knew what you needed to do.  But Mihawk got a little closer, already sliding your shirt off your shoulder.  He purred in your ear, “Shall I unwrap my perfect little present?”

“Yes, sir.” You happily insisted.  Bathtime with Mihawk was one of your favorite things in the world.  You’d get to soak your achy muscles with Mihawk’s chest on your back (and let’s be honest, his lips all over your neck and schoulders).  He ate up skin to skin contact with you more than anything.  And…well…look at him.  Mihawk was a chiseled god.  You weren’t going to say no to that.

As he helped you into his giant bathtub, he soon followed you in and made you comfortable.  Everything was already there.  A bottle of wine (As Mihawk told you, it was up to you whether or not you took it.), pillowy bubbles, and water at the perfect temperature.  Not that he didn’t love having you with him in the bathtub, but he also had an ulterior motive.  He wasn’t going to let you get into his satin sheets without making sure you were clean first.  Even if he had to do it himself.  Not that you’d ever tell him no.  You both loved the quiet time.  You loved the closeness, the warmth.  You loved how he loved you.  How he showed you just how much he loved you.  The soft, gentle touches.  You were the only girl in the world in Mihawk’s eyes.  And in that moment, nothing else mattered.  You loved Crocodile.  You loved Buggy.  But for this week, you loved Mihawk.  And Mihawk alone.  Unless someone asked nicely.  Nothing could ruin this for either of you.

“OH, HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWKKKKKEYYYYYYYYYYYESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” a man’s voice sang through the halls.  One that made Mihawk immediately tense up.  It wasn’t Crocodile.  It wasn’t Buggy.

“Mihawk?” You looked up at him, a little concerned, “What’s going on?”

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk assured you, idly running his fingers down your skin, “If we just stay quiet, he’ll go away.”

“Who is it?” you whispered.

“He’s…” Mihawk sighed out, “Complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that,” Mihawk held you a little tighter, “One of my ghosts coming back to haunt me.”

“But that’s Perona.”

“No, no,” Mihawk shook his head, “Before Perona.  Well before Perona.  He was…I’ll admit.  He was fun for a night or two.  But…”

“FOUND YOOOOOOOOOUUU!” That same man from the hall stumbled into the bathroom.  Into the sanctuary you shared with Mihawk.  Where you were both still very much naked.

“One of us sobered up,” Mihawk rolled his eyes and threw back the rest of his glass of wine, “What the hell do you want?  And who even let you in?”

“Buggy did,” that man rolled into the bathtub with the two of you.  And it took him a minute to realize you were even there.  Once he did, though…That’s when you realized what Mihawk saw in him.  Because a man with that level of charm was deadly, “Oh…Hello…A woman?  Really, Hawkeyes?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” Mihawk did his best to keep his cool, but it grew more and more difficult by the second, “Get.  The fuck.  Out of my bathroom.”

“Look at you…” the man cradled your cheek in his palm, no doubt sending Mihawk into an internal rage, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“YN,” You tried not to swoon, but…Between the eyes, the face, the scars over his eye…You couldn’t help yourself.

“YN…” And then…That smile hit you.  And you were done.  Granted, you knew whose bed you’d be sleeping in for the week, but…This one made a case for himself, “What is that…South Blue?”

“Mmhm…”

“A pretty little southern girl…” he smirked, “Good for you, Mihawk.”

“Yes, yes, I’m very lucky,” Mihawk growled, “Now, get the fuck out of here, Shanks!”

“Alright, alright,” he rolled out of the bathtub, his clothes soaking wet, “So, should I wait in the bedroom, then?”

“If it’s a guest room,” Mihawk scoffed, “I am not sleeping with you, Shanks.”

“Aww, come on…” he slurred, “You know you want to…”

“No,” Mihawk grabbed a towel for you, handing it off with an apologetic look in his eyes, “Why don’t you go to our room?  I’ll handle this.”

“Ok.” You wrapped yourself up in your towel and started walking off to the bedroom.  Never did you expect to meet any of the Cross Guild’s exes, let alone under these circumstances.  Let alone Mihawk’s.  At least you knew Mihawk had taste.  But there was something more.  You didn’t like that look in his eyes.  Just because he didn’t say something didn’t mean something didn’t happen with them.  You’d never see him so scary.  And yet, he seemed so defeated.

After you were dried off, you put on a black silky robe and made yourself comfortable on the bed.  Although, the angry and colorful language you heard down the hall wasn’t exactly the comfort you were looking for.  But then, it got quiet.  Scarily quiet.  You weren’t entirely sure if it was because it was over or Mihawk needed to hide a body.  But before too long, one word echoed through the castle.  It could be heard for miles.   You had never heard Mihawk so angry.  Then again, you were also involved.

“BUGGY!”

You weren’t sure what was going to happen next.  But things went back to their scary quiet again.  Before you knew it, Buggy’s head zoomed past your door.  Just his head.  Nothing else.  It just blurred by.  Along with Buggy’s yelling accompanying his head’s flight.  You being the curious type couldn’t help but peek out at the carnage.  No blood, so you took that as a win.  That meant Mihawk kept the swords in their sheaths.  However, the new black eye coming through Buggy’s makeup was not nearly as victorious.

“You ok, Buggy?” You picked his head up from the floor.  What could you say?  You took pity on the guy.

“No, I’m not ok!” he squeaked, “My body’s missing.!  Your boyfriend just fucking decked me!”

“What happened?” Because you had a feeling that, even though it still broke your heart to see Buggy get hurt, he likely had it coming.

“Apparently, when we have company,” Buggy rolled his eyes, “I’m not supposed to answer the door.  I’m not supposed to let them in.  Oh, no.  We can’t have that.  Mr. Broody Pants barely wants us in his castle.  God forbid we have anyone else come over.  And before SOMEONE was boinking Shanks, that same SOMEONE seems to forget we have history, too.”

“Goddammit, Buggy…” you had been around the Cross Guild long enough.  You knew how they ticked.  You also appreciated Crocodile staying out of the mess.  This was purely a hissy fit between Mihawk and Buggy.  And unfortunately, you had to be the referee between them.  You had to be the one to call the fight.  And on tonight of all special nights.  Which sucked even more, “Did you know Mihawk and Shanks had any history before you let him in?”

“Of course, I did,” Buggy scoffed, “I know enough about everyone in this castle to keep myself safe.”

And if that didn’t make your heart ache just a little more, “Even me…?”

“Sorry, doll,” Buggy nestled his head in your shoulder, “An unfortunate nature of the beast.”

“You really think I’d do something so stupid, Buggy?” you started to understand where Mihawk was coming from, “You really think I would betray you?  You think I would be the one holding the bloody knife that came out of your back?  You think I’m like that to where you’d feel the need to have something over my head?”

“Well…” It was then, Buggy knew just how much he gutted you.  How much he hurt you.  And he knew he wouldn’t be able to backtrack his way out of it.

“No,” you put your foot down, “You said what you said.  You meant what you said.  You don’t realize it, Buggy, but you and Mihawk and Crocodile have-”

“Ahem…”

“And Perona…” you didn’t see her floating around, but you knew she was there.  You knew she was listening, “You’ve all been like a family to me.  And I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck family over.  I can’t believe you’d do something like that…To Mihawk and Crocodile?  Yes.  Of course, I can see that.  All day.  I didn’t think you’d bring me into that, too.  I thought we were special.”

“And we are,” Buggy insisted, his eyes pleading, “YN…Baby girl…”

“Don’t you fucking baby girl me,” you were not happy.  And you had every right to be not happy.  It was then, you decided to take a page out of Mihawk’s playbook.  And you dropkicked Buggy’s head from one end of the hall to the other.

Although, as Mihawk stuck his head out of the guest room he had tucked Shanks into for the evening (because he wasn’t heartless.  Shanks was wasted and needed a place to crash.), he was shocked to see Buggy fly by again, “YN…?”

“What?” You snarled, already fired up from what Buggy had said.

“YN…” Mihawk’s voice took on a much more authoritative tone, “You know better.”

“I’m not in the mood, Mihawk,” you stood your ground, not letting anyone belittle your feelings right now.  You knew you had every single right to be as hurt as you were. 

“Hey…” Mihawk wrapped his arms around you and let you shake in his embrace, “What happened?”

“Buggy just pissed me off…” You admitted.

“Me, too,” Mihawk scooped you up into his arms and gently kissed your forehead, “How about I bring you back to my room and we can make it ours for the evening?  Sound good to you?”

You just nodded, your head rested in Mihawk’s shoulder. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk carried you back to bed and put you down as delicate as a newborn baby, “By the way, darling…”

“What?” You started to come down from your fit of rage.  Mihawk had that effect on you.

And he simply smiled, “Wonderful kick.”

“Thank you…” And you knew the night could only get better from there.

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Feelings

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 19 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

You found yourself waking up with a jolt. There was a weight on your chest, and your eyes felt glued from crust, but you felt frozen, waiting for anything to let you know what it was that woke you up. Your fridge was humming softly, and besides the soft breathing from next to you, there was no other noise. Until you picked up a soft beeping.

With a sigh, you slowly shifted Jisung off your body so you could slip out of bed, softly padding towards your pants. After a second, you realized it wasn’t your phone that had made the noise. You gave a second to glance back to the boys still sleeping in your bed, looking peaceful. You contemplated it for a second, but another buzz made you shrug.

It was probably fine.

It was in Jisung’s pants that you found the offending phone, a few notifications from ‘Channie-Hyung’. You could only see the most recent messages since you didn’t have his phone password.

‘Let me know’ 1m

‘We might be going over the melody for the bri-’ 1m

‘Feel free to catch up with us later. We’ll be-‘ 2m

You hummed softly, bringing his phone back to your bed with you. You placed both of them on the nightstand and, figuring Chan would have called if it was urgent, found yourself falling back asleep.

Or at least, you tried.

Despite dozing for a few minutes, you found yourself unable to actually fall back asleep. You let your eyes flutter open, about to stretch, when you caught movement in the corner of your eye. You shifted your head slightly up to see what it was.

Minho was awake, his eyes heavily lidded as if he was seconds away from closing them again. He was looking down at Jisung, who had turned over and decided to use his hyung as a pillow in your brief absences, and there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch in your throat. The movement that you had caught was his hand lifting up to brush hair away from Jisung’s face.

The back of his hand softly caressed the sleeping rapper’s cheek with a tenderness that you had never seen before. Except, maybe in movies. And very briefly, between soulmates.

As his actual soulmate, it should have made you feel jealous to see that look in Minho’s eyes. The kind of look he had never shown you. But while it did make your chest clench tightly, it wasn’t because of a jealousy or hurt that you had known quite well from past relationships and unrequited crushes. It was … you weren’t sure what it was.

Minho’s eyes darted towards you, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Hi,” He whispered in English, his voice soft and yet deep from sleep.

“Morning,” You whispered back, trying not to wake up the other boy.

 “What time is it?”

“7-ish,” You murmured.

The dancer threw an arm over his eyes. “Too early.”

You let out a huff, nodding your head in agreement. “Go back to sleep.”

You weren’t sure if he did, since he didn’t answer you. Now that you were sure you weren’t tired anymore, you grabbed your phone to scroll for a while in hopes of passing the time, both because you didn’t want to actually get up for fear of bothering the other two, but also because you had no plans.

At first it was just alternating between videos and social media, catching up on anything new. But then you saw a particular post that made you pause.

It was you. At least, you were pretty sure it was you. And it was definitely Seungmin standing in front of you, even if his face was slightly blurry in the picture. You recognized the outfit as the one he was wearing yesterday.

Someone must have noticed you two on your not-date. The post only had an exclamation mark, with no other information or accusation, but the replies more than made up for it.

‘who are they?’ ‘IS THAT KIM SEUNGMIN?!!!?’ ‘ADFDGSH you saw Seungmin in the wild T.T’ ‘normalize actual captions plz. I have no idea what this is’ ‘lol stay is doing Dispatch’s job for them’ ‘wait is it just me or does that look like stray kids Seungmin?’ ‘oh my god you met Seungmin?’ ‘OP, is this you in pic?’

You knew for a fact that none of the boys had seen this post yet. There weren’t a lot of interactions, and the lack of confirmation from the original poster in the replies managed to keep most people in a stage of confusion. But it made your heartbeat faster, the sudden anxiety that you had been caught in public.

You hadn’t even noticed anyone taking the photo. What if you had been holding hands, or kissing? Right now, even if anyone managed to confirm it was Seungmin in the photo, there was plausible deniability that you were just a friend.

You turned your phone off with a sigh.

Jisung flipped over onto his back with a groan. “Jagi?”

Minho grunted, reaching out to grab Jisung’s hand.

Jisung mumbled something. too slurred and soft for you to make out, but Minho understood perfectly. He said something without opening his eyes, still too soft for you to make anything out except for ‘dinner’ and ‘our’, to which Jisung let out a loud groan as he stretched his body out in an exaggerated way.

You snickered.

“Yah, you’re too far. Come here,” Jisung said, holding out his arms to you.

“You’re the one who left me,” You said, allowing him to pull you close. “Just like I expected. I’m just the third wheel here.” You let out an exaggerated sniffle, dramatically placing the back of your hand over your forehead.

“You’re only now figuring that out?” Jisung joked.

You gasped, pulling away so you could slap him on the arm. “Hey!”

When you tried to get out of bed, he tightened his hold on you. “Noooo! I’m sorry, I was just joking. Don’t leave me!”

“You’re so dramatic,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you on top of him. You held yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him with a fake frown. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Kiss me?”

You pretended to think about it, but at his impatient look, you found yourself caving. You placed a slow, gentle, kiss on his lips, pulling away to affectionately grab his chin with your free hand. Jisung beamed up at you.

“Now I feel like the third wheel,” Minho said.

“Aw, are you feeling jealous Jagi?” Jisung pouted. “Come here, I can give you a kiss too.” He made exaggerated kissy noises, leaning over to get closer to the dancer, but in doing so he ended up pushing you off him.

You landed on your back on the edge of the bed with a laugh. “Hey, careful!”

The boys seemed to be in a wrestling match, both of them laughing and Jisung yelling out that Minho should accept his love, and you rolled your eyes.

“Boys,” You sighed to yourself.

0o0o0o0

Changbin invited you out to the gym the next morning, and you were already starting to regret it. It made you realize that you weren’t exactly in the best of shape, especially when you found yourself struggling to keep up with what was supposed to be a beginner friendly warm up.

At least he was nice enough not to point it out.

Chan showed up about halfway through, looking both surprised and amused when he realized you were there. “He going easy on you?”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” You grunted, letting out a groan as you lifted yourself back up from your squat.

You expected some more teasing, maybe some reassurance from one or both of the boys, but they were surprisingly quiet. You glanced at them in the mirror.

Changbin was smirking, and Chan’s eyes were far too low to be on anything but your ass.

You laughed so hard you almost dropped the bar.

0o0o0o0

Soulmates

Y/N Alright, which one of you gremlins stole my hoodie Felix Not it! Hyunjin It wasn’t me, but now I’m kind of wishing it was Jisung Wait, the black one? Or the grey one? Seungmin Self-admitting to being gremlins? You guys are so dumb. Felix I will bite you Jisung Or maybe the red one …. Sungie, stop stealing my hoodies! Jisung But they’re so soft! You’re the only one who wears them to bed. Felix Yeah, because most of us don’t wear anything to bed ;) Y/N I’m going to start stealing your hoodies as revenge >:( Jisung Don’t threaten me with a good time

0o0o0o0

“Okay, I might not have thought this completely through,” You admitted.

Hyunjin peeked over your shoulder. “Who’s Sophie?”

“A friend of mine,” You said, erasing what you had been typing. “I mentioned that I was in Korean and now she keeps asking me to send photos of all the places I go to so she can ‘live through me’.”

You did the air quotes with your fingers, and Hyunjin blinked at you slowly, looking far too much like Minho in that moment.

“Okay?”

“The problem is, I haven’t exactly been to many places,” You explained.

“We went to the museum,” he pointed out.

“Together,” You said slowly, pointing between you two. “I don’t have any pictures without you guys in it. She’s a Stay.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “So you need more photos?”

You pouted, looking down at your phone. “Yeah. It would also be nice to visit some actual tourist attractions, you know?”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

You looked up at the dancer to find he was completely serious. He grabbed his phone and started towards the front door, looking back at you to make sure you were following.

“Wait, right now?” You exclaimed, stumbling out of your chair.

“Why not? I don’t have anything else to do today.”

You beamed at him. “Really?!”

Hyunjin reached out a hand for you, and he pulled you in close so he could grab your hip with one hand, using the other to raise your joined hands to his lips. He gave you a gentle kiss on the back of the hand, and then another on your forehead.

“I’m all yours.”

0o0o0o0

You wanted to surprise the boys. They had a long day; a couple meetings to discuss their next release, and then a video they had to film for some variety show program. They had texted you not to wait up, that they were going to be at the company building late that night, so you thought it would be a great idea to pop by to give them some goodnight kisses since you wouldn’t see them until the morning.

You thought you would be fine walking. You had taken the bus with a few of the boys before, knew the routes well, and it was only three actual minutes out on the street.

It just so happened that in those three minutes, the sky decided to open up like some kind of action movie.

To say you were soaked when you finally made it to the cover of the building would be putting it lightly. You were literally dripping, your shoes squelching with every step, and you refused to move from the entrance since it would end up with you spilling water all along the shiny marble floors, and the poor cleaning staff didn’t deserve to deal with that.

The secretary at the front entrance gave you a sympathetic look, offering to make the call for you since your own phone wasn’t turning on.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

You shivered. “I feel like I almost drowned out there.”

Chan threw a jacket over your shoulders despite your protests that it would just get wet. And when you explained how you didn’t want to get water all over the floors, he proceeded to pick you up and carry you to the public restrooms like you were a child.

You weren’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or impressed.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to achieve here.” You told him with a sigh as he set you down on the counter. “I’m still wet.”

Chan pulled his phone out, giving you a cheeky look as he dialed a number. You leaned in close to see if you make out who it was. Ever the gentleman, Chan put it on speakerphone.

It was Minho who picked up. “Hyung?”

“Hey, can you get me a change of clothes? Bring it down to the woman’s bathrooms in the lobby.”

Apparently, questions weren’t a thing for the second oldest, because he hung up a second later.

“You guys keep spare clothes at the company?”

“Sometimes we take showers here before heading home. They have better water pressure,” He explained, pulling his jacket off. He then proceeded to tug on your soaked shirt. “Come one, lets get these clothes off before you get sick.”

You helped him peel the wet fabric from your skin, the clothes seemingly having shrunk with the rain. “You just want an excuse to see me naked.”

“Guilty as charged,” He joked, although his eyes never strayed from your face.

He then used some of the paper towels to dry away any lingering moisture from your back and arms as you wrung your hair out in the sink, the strands getting frizzy as you tried to shake it dry. He didn’t hesitate to pull his own dry and warm shirt off for you to wear while you waited, although you didn’t have to wait long.

Minho walked into the bathroom without so much as a knock, acting as if it was an everyday occurrence to find Chan shirtless in the bathroom. From behind him, Jeongin followed like a lost puppy, waving his hand at you.

“Hi!”

“These were the smallest I could find,” Minho said, handing you a shirt and a pair of sweats that would probably fit.

“Thank you.”

You grabbed the clothes, and then stared at the three boys for much too long.

Chan was the first to realize. “Right! Sorry, we’ll let you get changed.”

“Damn,” Jeongin whispered.

“I told you they weren't going to let you watch,” Minho said with a sigh, pushing the younger singer towards the bathroom doors.

Your brain to mouth filters failed you in a moment of weakness. “I mean, I let you watch.”

Chan raised his brows in shock, Jeongin spinning around so hard that he almost knocked Minho onto the floor.

“You what!?”

Minho smirked. “Oh honey, you’re going to give them the wrong idea.”

Already more than aware of how it sounded, you looked away in embarrassment. Jeongin wasn’t backing out without a fight, however.

“When did you let him watch? I thought we agreed to go slow?”

“Ayen, dude. Chill,” Chan warned him. “We agreed to go at their pace.”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Minho added. “We only got ready for bed.”

Jeongin pouted, “Still-“

“Wait, what do you mean you agreed to go at my pace?” You asked, clothes long forgotten. The three of them shared a look that you could roughly translate to ‘oh fuck’. “Have you been talking behind my back?”

“I mean, we just figured it wouldn’t be fair to pressure you or anything. We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Chan explained.

“Seriously?”

Minho titled his head to the side. “Is that not what you wanted?”

“You guys can be real idiots sometimes,” You hissed. “You do realize you guys can just ask me things, right? I mean … I thought since nobody brought it up that maybe ....”

Chan choked. “You thought we didn’t want to?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like we ever talked about this?!”

Finally having enough, Jeongin moved away from the other two boys, pushing his way up against the counter you were sitting on, in between your legs. He then pressed his hands against the counter on either side, leaning up into your space.

“Can I kiss you?”

You blinked, sucking in a breath of air that you held for just a second longer than normal. And then you grinned, eyes darting to the other two boys.

“Take notes, boys.”

For as cold as you had been only minutes before, Jeongin’s lips against yours made your entire body heat up to the point you felt like you were on fire. His skin was equally hot under your palm as you reached up to cup his jaw, tilting his head back farther so you could lean into him. He let out a groan at the sudden change in position, your hand slipping down to the back of his neck, fingers scratching along the skin.

Chan swore, and you smirked against Jeongin’s kiss, more aware of the fact you had an audience now. Something in you was brought to life at the idea of putting on a show, your legs coming up to wrap around Jeongin’s back and pull him in closer. You let out a moan of your own as his tongue pressed against your lips, opening up for him.

There was a hushed whisper, and then the sound of someone slapping the other as Minho giggled. You snorted, pushing away from Jeongin to bury your head in his shoulder.

“Aish. You guys really do have to ruin everything, don’t you,” The maknae complained, his hands sliding up your bare sides. You shivered as cold air reached your skin.

Chan sighed. “Alright, let them get changed. You two can have a good pash later.”

You watched them go with tingling lips, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

0o0o0o0

Soulmates

Y/N New phone, who dis Felix RIP your old phone, it will be forever missed At least it was a Samsung Changbin I know where you sleep Felix Yeah, with me XP Hyunjin Can’t believe your phone died in the rain like that Jeongin Still can’t believe Lee Know-hyung got to see you naked Hyunjin Now im worried everytime it starts to rain that the same thing will happen to my phone Wait, what? Y/N He didn’t see me naked! Felix I thought we agreed to go slow?! Chan We agreed to go at their pace! Jisung HOW COME I HAVENT GOTTEN TO SEE ANYBODY NAKED! T>T Y/N HE HASN’T SEE ME NAKED! Minho Yet Y/N O.O

0o0o0o0

Dinner with the boys was quickly becoming an everyday tradition. While not all the boys were available all the time due to their solo schedules, you could always count on someone inviting you over to eat.

Today, it was surprisingly at the 3racha dorm and not at the maknae’s. Danceracha was busy working on some choreo, and Chan had decided to take the night off, leaving him in charge of dinner. Seungmin and Jeongin showed up early enough to help out, but they were more of a hinderance to the elder’s attempts at fried rice, stealing food and distracting him with random questions every time they strayed into the kitchen.

It only took half an hour before everyone except you and Changbin (the only two who were actually helping) were banned from the kitchen. Jisung pouted at you from the couch when you passed the kitchen doorway. You winked at him.

“Like actual children, I swear,” Chan sighed, taking the salt offered out of your hands. “Thanks.”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “You poor thing. How do you put up with them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, not all of us are bad,” Changbin mumbled, carefully shaking the salad he was working on so that the veggies mixed together without flying out.

You plucked a tomato out of the bowl. “Yeah! Some of us are worse.”

“Out!” Chan yelled at you with a laugh, Changbin complaining about the stolen tomato with a high-pitched whine.

You giggled the entire way out, collapsing onto the couch next to the maknae, who didn’t waste any time latching onto you like an octopus. “I’ve been banished, my fellow thieves.”

Jisung and Seungmin both frowned, the English words unfamiliar to them. What proceeded was the most chaotic English lesson you ever tried to give, with the word banished quickly finding it’s translation, but the concept of ‘fellow’ throwing them off.

“It’s like, something you share in common. We all stole food,” You explained.

“Ahh. So, I can say ‘my fellow friends’?” Jisung tried.

“Mhh, it makes sense. Just sounds weird.”

“My fellow soulmates?” Jeongin tested, his accent heavy against your neck. You squirmed.

“I don’t think that one works. Kind of implies you guys are all soulmates with each other, instead of just sharing one.”

“One soulmate is more than enough,” Seungmin said with a grimace.

“Aww hyung, you don’t want to be my soulmate?” Jeongin teased.

You expected a deadpan answer, something to make you all laugh in the way he normally did. But Seungmin actually paused, tilting his head towards the youngest in thought.

“I guess being your soulmate wouldn’t be so bad,” he admitted.

“Awww.” You and Jisung both teased, and Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Better than the others, for sure.”

“Ya! I better not be included in that,” Changbin yelled as he poked his head out of the kitchen. “Come help me set the table.”

With the human octopus still clinging to you, it was hard for you to get up. The other two abandoned you with snickers when you cried for their help, and it was only when you agreed to stay with him tonight that Jeongin finally let you go.

He held your hand under the table all night (thankfully not the one you used to eat with), and only let you go to your apartment to change with the promise you’d meet him at his dorm.

Felix and Hyunjin were on the couch when you arrived, both of them watching something on a phone between them. Felix looked like he was already half asleep, only managing to smile at you sleepily. Hyunjin flapped his hands at you.

“Help me get him to bed?”

You glanced at the hallway, and figured Jeongin could wait a few more minutes.

Between the two of you, it was more than easy to guide Felix to his bedroom. It was, however, difficult to do so without alerting the others to your presence, as you discovered Jeongin pouting at you from Felix’s doorway when you finished tucking in the young dancer. Hyunjin immediately took your spot on the bed, wrapping himself around the other boy with a hum.

“Thank you,” He whispered out to you, blowing you a kiss.

Jeongin wrapped his arms protectively around you the moment you were close enough for him to reach. “I thought he was going to steal you.”

“Never. I’m all yours,” You joked, glancing back at the blond-haired duo. Hyunjin was running his fingers through Felix’s hair, eyes soft as he looked down at his friend. “Besides, I don’t to ruin whatever they’ve got going on.”

“Hmm. Maybe they should have been soulmates instead,” Jeongin teased.

You blinked, thoughts beginning to run through your head. “Maybe.”

_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_o-o_

Taglist: (if you wish to be added or removed, please let me know)

@kayleefriedchicken @dessianna1 @tryingtolivelifeblog @luvvvash @purplelady85 @jc003

[oval3000]

Chapter 1

Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader

Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

-------------------------------------------------------

The bell ringing caused all the students to pack their bags and walk out of the classroom. The janitors, of the school, sweep the empty floors of the hallways. Teachers were gathering their paperwork, making copies, and saying goodbye to other fellow mentors.

Nanami picked up the black, felt, block and started to erase the chalk from the board. All the math equations of the new lectures become just white dust falling to the ground. He closed the math textbook, feeling his eyelids wanting to shut. Another day, another day lecture that half of his students will fail at.

He shoved all the homework sheets half of the class handed, into his black, leather, briefcase. He enjoyed his job. If he didn't he wouldn't continue to be here. He liked being a teacher. He liked math. He liked to teach those who wanted to learn. quote, "Those." He would love his job even more if all of his students would actually pay attention. He wouldn't be so tired if his students would come up and ask for help when they needed it. When he saw the grades of more than 50% of his students fail their latest test, he changed his teaching ways, however, the statistics never changed. They still failed to understand the mathematical procedures of each formula that would give them the correct answer. If only they pay attention and not stare at their phones all the time. If only they take it a little seriously then maybe they would actually walk out to get their diploma.

He offered to help them as much as he could as a teacher. He stayed after school for those who needed help to come in and ask, but no one came. He gave them all a little paper booklet with specific instructions for how to use each formula to each question, yet, he kept marking f's on their test. At least is not 100% of his students, or else he wouldn't even have a job.

He did notice a pattern of those who fail. The same ones that don't even show up for half of his classes. Those who show up high. Those who show up just to chat or use their phones the whole time.

He spends more time scolding them for not listening than to teach them all the things they need. Especially after he taught them how to deal with their taxes.

His one particular class that he always has issues with. He's a teacher, he shouldn't think badly about his students, but that one class he hates the most. His 10:00am class. When his students don't listen, they don't bother to take notes. They're too busy recovering from their hangover from the party they had last night. Nanami knows what goes on with a college student. He was once a college student. Granted that he was never a party animal, he mostly focused on his grades rather than getting hammered on a Thursday night. However, he saw and heard about the wild nights his classmates had. So, he's not shed out when it comes to his students who come in with their eyes red and their hands covering their heads, trying to control their headaches.

He would enjoy his job even more if the girls actually asked for help rather than pretend they wanted help just for them to flirt with him and show their bodies off.

He would instantly tell when they wanted to have sex with him. It's no secret that he's attractive and handsome. A lot of his students would flirt with him and that includes his co-workers. Girls would come up to him with a question by leaning in, seductively, close to him to show their cleavage and wiggle their asses to show more of their cunt. All Nanami could do is to roll his eyes and tell them to go back to their seats.

He found it lame and embarrassing how easily they would want to give in just to pass a simple math class or to just sleep with him. He knows his other male co-workers are the opposite of him. They would easily go at it and fuck their students if they seduce them like that. After all, he caught his fellow colleague fucking a student in his office. His colleague was afraid of Nanami telling so out of fear, he gave him his position, as the head of the math department. Nanami didn't care nor was he going to tell, but he enjoyed the little promotion. At least he's getting something out of it.

He was honestly disappointed that this was the outcome of his career. Teaching a bunch of students math that they swear they don't need. Dealing with dumb colleagues. Dealing with women who want to have sex with him. Dealing with endless useless grading was like a slap in the face to him.

That was until he received an email. An email saying that he's going to get a new student for his 10:00am class. He rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. Another student who won't bother trying to understand an equation.

He didn't have any high hopes or care. Especially in his 10:00am class that he hates.

He hates it.

He has to deal with another student.

Or so he thought.

When he heard your voice. your soft-spoken voice. He perked up and saw you. You stood there with your bag hanging on your shoulder and a piece of paper in your hand. "Are you Mr. Nanami?" He didn't reply, he just nodded. He was too busy studying you. your form, the way you spoke, everything. "Okay, I'm (Y/n). The new student." To stook out your hand as he shook it. Your soft, delicate hands. "Can I sit anywhere?" He nodded again. Never once has he been so starstruck by someone, a student.

He watched closely as you picked a seat, just a row behind the first one. Still close to the front. Still close to him.

Now the class he hated the most became the one he'll love the most.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

  Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

 Chapter Word Count: 1762

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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I'm Not Your F*cking Maid

Please read Prologue before starting.

Chapter 1

I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.

“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”

“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:

“Who the fuck are you?”

He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.

“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.

“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;

“Three very strong coffees please.”

Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”

“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“

“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.

They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”

“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”

“Bobby Singer.”

The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.

“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”

“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”

“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.

“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.

“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.

“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.

“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.

The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.

“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”

“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”

For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.

*

The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.

“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.

“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.

Although he had it coming.

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Up Next

Chapter 2

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Word Count: 1708

Chapter 16:

Once again, and as it was expected, arguments soon rose between the coven members. Yet through those arguments, confessions quickly came to light.

Like the fact that Alice recognised those markings, and was forced to expose one of her deepest secrets.

"I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit, that I couldn't save her" she confessed, refusing to meet any of your gazes. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks. Even though she had the same ones"

Jen seemed to connect the dots the fastest. "Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?"

You held back a groan the best you could, and all that was heard from you was a forced sigh.

Generational curses were the worst of the curses and you had been lucky to avoid them in your prolonged life. They were almost impossible to break, their bases so dark it was almost supernatural in terms of power.

While the tensions between the group intensified, you felt a sharp acute pain coming from both your shoulders.

With a loud gasp, you leaned forward; eyes wide open as you felt as if someone had touched a torch right on your skin.

You could not help but hiss and close your eyes momentarily, trying not to let this pain make you lose focus or have you on the ground.

Once was enough, your pride was not going to let you fall victim to it again; let alone let it make you kneel.

"Fuck" you cursed as you opened your eyes, pressing your teeth against one another and watched Alice rush your way.

To her surprise, you lifted your hand and motioned for her not to approach; confusing them group. Mastering all the self-control you had, you brought your free hand, placed it on the shoulder burning the most, and started to chant something under your breath.

White magic was barely noticeable beneath your hand, but a few seconds after, you constantly repeated some sort of mantra; you felt free of the pain, and you could breathe again.

Panting faintly, you looked at your audience; only two were not utterly surprised by your actions. The rest were both curious and slightly suspicious.

"How did you do that?" Alice asked, not expecting to have another protection witch in the group.

"Anti-curse spell. Works on the caster only, " you explained, not daring to check your skin for any marks.

You would deal with them later, when you would be free of any trial related danger.

Jen narrowed her eyes. "An anti-curse spell powerful enough to keep away a generational curse?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not believing you.

You had been honest on that part, feeling no need to lie. You had to give it to Jen for not settling for the breadcrumbs you had just given them.

However, now it was not the time to go into depth how you made such spell work.

Thankfully for you, the trial or the curse were furious with your little trick and chose to attack a different coven member... Teen.

Though this time, there was no burning sensation or anything mystical.

No, this time, something invisible hit the boy with so much force; it sent him flying.

You gasped and placed your hands in front of your mouth as you saw Teen being thrown mid air, smashing through the two way mirror glass of the recording booth and landing outside; right in the control room.

Everyone rushed to check on him, fearing for the worst after such attack; none questioning why the boy was attacked differently than the rest.

Thankfully, Teen was alright or at least not critically injured. He was even smiling faintly as he noticed almost everyone surrounding him; Jen having chosen to stay in the protective circle.

"Hey." He greeted weakly. "I got attacked by the curse. Does that mean I'm part of the coven?"

His innocent question made you smile faintly, relieved that he was okay. You slowly helped him to stand up, carefully ensuring he would not collapse any moment now.

"Blessings and burdens alike." You told him, seeing his naive little smile growing.

As you all gathered back in the recording booth, you started to discuss how to deal with this curse; the time on the metronome continuing ticking but this time you didn't know just how much Time you had been left.

In the end, by inspecting the broken record; a solution was found. Since the curse came from the record played backwards, the only way to battle it is to play the song normally.

Ironically, the song was none other than the Ballad of the Witches Road; sang by none other than Alice's mother, Lorna Wu.

Also, the genius mind of Agatha made the ultimate deduction.

"What did Lorna want from The Road? What was her intention? To save her daughter. You should have burnt to a crisp years ago, but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That's because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much. Lorna's Ballad is a protection spell. It protected you."

Agatha's words seemed to bypass any of Alice's defenses, trying to win her over and give her the courage to play the song. Every member of the coven had to participate and since that trial was related to her mother, Alice was the centre of it all.

At Agatha's words, you could not help but glance to the ground momentarily. Hearing of Lorna's love for her daughter, going as far as to create a song spell to save her daughter... it made your heart ache.

You barely knew your mother, anything about her a distant and blurry memory at the very back of your mind. At least your birth mother, that is.

You did not have a motherly figure in your life, many witches doing the bare minimum to help you, but none wished to get attached to you; even though you were a little orphan girl.

Perhaps this was what had attracted you to Agatha in the first place. Being older than you and actually interested in being part of your life, had made you form an incredible bond with her; even if someone might argue this bond was one way.

Sometimes, though, you did wish to know more.

To know if this woman you had called your mother as a child, ghe very same one tht had chosen to look after and raise you, would have done something similar to protect you, rather than leaving through the door one morning and letting you wake up alone to an empty house.

You had never managed to find her again, and as for your birth mother, you had done a lot of research and got some answere; though you wouldn't mind to know more.

However, you feared it would not be possible; not with your situation.

Feeling a pair of eyes, you dared to search for them; only to see Agatha studying you. It was her turn to read through your fake mask and read your intentions, the topic of a mother hard to both of you; for different reasons.

Trying to look the other way, you were caught by Rio. She seemed to be intensely staring at you, though her gaze was soft; and you could swear you saw something that looked like sympathy or even regret.

"So," you cleared your throat. "Who plays what?" You asked, hoping to change the topic and also remind everyone that the metronome was still ticking.

"Okay, who's good on piano? Lilia?" Agatha asked, driving to take the lead since no one else was willing to do so.

"No. No, I studied the zils." The older witch argued. "And a little pan flute."

Defeated, Agatha turned to the other witch. "Jen."

"Ballet."

"Oh, come on, guys!" She groaned, not believing they were in such situation.

Their lives were depending on a stupid song, and no one seemed to have any music experience.

"I play guitar. Sort of." Teen informed a little shyly.

You chose to join. "I also do"

Your words made Agatha stare at you with an arched eyebrow. Her expression was literally screaming 'since when?'

You offered her a plain simple smile, unable to explain to her that you learnt Guitar during a difficult new moon; and then you kept it as a hobby.

Agatha did not comment about it but you could see the twinkle of interest in her blue eyes. When all of this was done and you had reached the end of the road, she would definitely ask you more about it; perhaps even make you play something for her.

Definitely not the Ballad of the Witches Road.

After some discussion that almost led to a argument between Jen and Agatha; you all found your respective instruments.

Rio had the drums, Alice the piano, Jen the Bass, Lilia the Zils (surprising everyone such instrtument was present) and you with Teen had the guitars.

"I am not sure how well I can play this" the boy confesed to you in a hushed tone as he fixed his grip on the instrument.

You both stood side by side.

"It's not a hard one. If you get stuck, follow my lead" you reassured him, a small smile just enough to make him relax a little bit.

He did and offered a small smile in return while trying to fix the guitar strap, all while doing the best to ignore the sharp pain coming from the side of hid abdomen.

Then, you did not notice it and failed to see that his landing was not as smooth or harmless as you thought it was.

Once everyone was ready, the lightning in the room changed and slowly you started to play the beat of the Ballad.

Agatha stood in the middle, right in front of the microphone and yet before she could truly start singing; the curse attacked her too.

"Agatha!" You and Teen exclaimed, almost rushing to her side.

"Keep playing!" She hissed, having bent one knee and supporting herself on the mike stand. "Keep playing!"

Left with no choice, you all focused on the rhythm as Agatha started to sing.

Chapter 17

[bellaxgiornata]

Neighbors [Chapter 3]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

a/n: Things are starting to happen in this chapter, in more ways than one... Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21 @sleepysleepymom @urlocalgeek @buckysvinyl @ragamuffin285 @lollulroofl @hazallem @hellooooooooooooooo @kezibear @dorothleah @juskonutoh @dreamtofus @capswife @lemon-world1 @marvelbros-oneshots

Rubbing one hand across your eyes, you tried to wipe the sleep from them as you pushed yourself upright in bed. The morning sunlight streamed into the room from around the corner of your blinds while the sound of early morning birdsong filtered in past your window. As you groggily felt consciousness returning to you, you found yourself thankful that it was finally the weekend and you'd gotten the much-needed opportunity to sleep in after yet another long week. You'd certainly needed the rest.

Gradually waking, you noticed a faint weight dipping the mattress beside your leg, the feel of it catching your attention. Hand falling away from your face and back to your side, your gaze landed down on Penny. She was standing with her chin resting on your bed as she stood beside it, her tail wagging excitedly as her blue eyes stared up at you. The moment your eyes met hers, her head tilted a bit to the side as her ears perked up. Briefly her tail paused its movements before it began again seconds later with even more enthusiasm than before.

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmured, reaching a hand out to gently pat her head. “You're hungry and you want to go out. I know, I'm getting up.”

As you began to push the sheets off of yourself, Penny removed her head from the mattress before happily trotting over to the bedroom door.  She paused in the threshold before impatiently staring back at you. Sluggishly, you tossed your legs over the side of the bed and rose to your feet, loosing a loud yawn as you did. Penny let out an irritated bark as she watched you stand there covering a hand over your mouth.

“Give me a minute,” you grumbled at her, shuffling over to your dresser. “I need a bra before we head downstairs.”

As you pulled the drawer to your dresser open, grabbing a bra to quickly throw on, you heard Penny let out one of her usual dissatisfied grumbles. You grinned at the sound, shaking your head as you closed the drawer.

“You know,” you told her as you began to shift your shirt around in order to slip the bra on, “we can't all wake up with the same level of energy as you. Some of us don't spend our days sleeping in cozy beds and watching the squirrels outside.” Readjusting your shirt once you'd secured your bra on yourself, your eyes landed back on Penny still impatiently standing in the doorway. “ Some of us have jobs and responsibilities to deal with which are draining,” you continued. “And on occasion those things make us forget to check the mail–which is what I need to do this morning. And why I unfortunately need a bra,” you said, muttering the last part to yourself.

Penny let out a dismissive bark at you the moment you'd finished dressing. You shot her a flat look, watching as she sent you a signature dramatic roll of her head before she bolted out of your bedroom and straight down the stairs in a rush. You figured she’d most likely stopped at the bottom of them in your living room like she did every morning as she continued to impatiently wait for you. 

With a sigh you made your way out of the bedroom and down the stairs after her, grateful you at least slept better last night than you had the previous night when Lily had stayed over and had woken from a nightmare. Despite the better night of sleep, though, you admittedly still weren't much of a morning person. 

After drowsily descending the stairs, taking your time much to Penny’s sheer chagrin, you watched as she darted off once more the moment you reached the last step. Still trying to fully wake, you began to trudge your way after her through the living room and over towards your kitchen. 

Entering the room, you were met with the sight of the warm, golden sunlight cascading its way past the glass of your sliding door. The morning light coated your kitchen table and the small kitchen island, drawing forth a contented, sleepy smile on your face. This duplex never ceased to feel like a cozy home to you ever since you'd moved in years ago. It was something you'd always loved about living here.

You spotted Penny sitting exactly where you’d expected her to be–directly in front of her food bowl and staring expectantly back at you. Her expressive eyes showed her clear frustration at how long it was taking you to finally feed her, something that warranted a roll of your own eyes in return.

“You're not a typical dog,” you muttered, walking over to the dog food container and unscrewing the lid. “You know that, right? You're too smart. It's not normal.”

Penny didn't respond to you this time, too focused on watching you scoop food from the container. You poured it into her bowl and watched as she immediately and eagerly began to devour it the moment you were out of her way. After closing up the container of dog food, you grabbed her water bowl and brought it over to your sink to empty out and refill. By the time you'd finished and brought it back to set down for her, she'd already inhaled her breakfast. You watched as she got a fast drink of water before stepping over towards your sliding door and letting out a demanding bark, droplets of water dripping off of her muzzle.

“Alright, alright,” you told her as you made your way towards her. “I get it, you’ve got a very busy morning.”

One hand grabbing onto her collar, your other unlocked the sliding door and pulled it open. You led her outside a few steps before bending down and grabbing the lead which you kept staked further into the ground on your side of the yard. Crouching down, you clipped the lead onto her collar before staring her straight in her blue eyes with a look meant to show her you meant business.

“No shenanigans this morning or I'm withholding treats,” you warned her. “You hear me? I'm not in the mood for running around the neighborhood today. I want my coffee.”

Penny stood there staring at you in return, her tail wagging innocently back and forth. But you weren’t fooled by her act as you caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. Your own eyes narrowed back at her before you gradually straightened up, taking a step back towards your sliding door.

“I mean it,” you told her. “I'll withhold those peanut butter cookies Lily and I made for you. Don't test me, Pen.”

Without another word, you turned and headed back inside, closing the door after yourself. You maneuvered around your little kitchen island and over towards your espresso machine, turning it on and letting it begin to heat up. Covering another yawn with your hand, you shuffled out of your kitchen and through your living room once more. 

You stopped in front of your entry closet, swinging the door open and quickly slipping your feet into a pair of shoes. Yesterday you'd been far too busy to remember to grab your mail from the mailbox, just as you'd told Penny. You'd only remembered late last night when you were brushing your teeth before bed, and at that point you didn't feel like heading all the way back outside in the dark to grab it. 

Stepping out your front door, you wrapped your arms around your chest to shield yourself against the brisk early morning spring air. Heading down the length of your driveway in a hurry, you reached your mailbox and opened it. Sticking your hand inside, you were surprised when you pulled out a decent stack of mail. As you began to make your way back up the driveway to your front door, your eyes slowly began to scan the top envelope of the stack. 

Stepping back inside your place, you closed the front door after yourself before walking over to your entryway closet that you’d left open. Kicking out of your shoes, you flipped to the next envelope in your hand, frowning when you saw it was a bill. With a sigh you closed your closet door, turning and making your way back to the kitchen. Still distracted by the mail in your hands, you visibly startled and almost tossed the stack of envelopes to the floor when two loud knocks came from your back door. 

Eyes flying upwards as you paused in the space between your kitchen and living room, you were shocked to see your new neighbor, Frank, standing there with a faint smile on his face. He sent you a small wave with one hand, but your eyes quickly dropped down and spotted that his right hand was holding onto Penny's collar. Your dog was standing there with her tail lowered, a guilty look on her always-so-expressive face. The sight was comical despite you feeling rather confused at the unexpected view of the pair of them.

Brows knitting together as you curiously eyed them, you made your way through the kitchen, absently tossing the stack of mail in your hand onto your small island as you passed it. When you reached the sliding door, you quickly opened it and stepped out of Penny's way as she shamefully slipped inside past you. You shot her a quizzical glance before focusing back on Frank.

“Sorry to bother you this morning,” he began, his smile turning to one of amusement as he spoke. “Just thought you might like to know I caught that one–” he raised a hand, pointing a finger at Penny behind you, “–trying to crawl out beneath the fence out back. Somehow got outta her collar, too.”

Glancing back over your shoulder, you shot Penny an exasperated look. “Penny!” you scolded her. “What had I just finished saying to you this morning? Not cool!”

Penny dropped down to the floor of the kitchen with a faint grumble, resting her chin over her paws as she shot you her sad puppy eyes. You shook your head at her before returning your attention to Frank when you heard him continue.

“Hope you don't mind that I caught her and brought her back,” he said. “I just saw her from my kitchen window. Figured you didn't want her gettin’ out.”

You waved a dismissive hand immediately at him, shaking your head quickly. “I absolutely don't mind at all,” you assured him. “You honestly just saved my morning. Seriously, thank you. She's been a little escape artist ever since I brought her home. I have no idea how she keeps slipping her collar and getting out of that damn backyard, though. I mean it’s fenced in .”

“There's a dip in the ground by those bushes out there near the far corner of the fence,” Frank told you, gesturing a thumb over his shoulder. “Caught her tryin’ to squeeze herself under it. But I didn’t see how she got outta her collar.”

Turning to look over your shoulder at Penny once more, you raised your brows at your dog. At least she had the audacity to look guilty this time, burying her muzzle into her paws as she averted her gaze.

“I told you no more shenanigans today,” you warned her. Returning your attention back to a grinning Frank, you sent him another grateful smile. “Thank you again. Really. You didn't have to grab her but I appreciate it. I'll try to find something to at least block that part of the fence with this weekend. Maybe that’ll stop her from at least getting out of the yard.”

“‘S'no problem,” Frank said with a shrug, taking a step backwards on your patio. “Just glad she didn't get loose and have somethin’ happen to her.”

Chewing your lip as you eyed him, you briefly wondered if it would be weird to invite him inside for a minute. Especially after the fact that he’d just saved you a whole hell of a lot of trouble this morning. And you certainly refused to think there was any other reason as to why you suddenly wanted to chat with him besides that.

“Hey, I uh, was about to make a latte,” you began, the offer spilling out of you before you could stop it. “Would you like one? As like a sort of thank you?”

Frank's weight shifted back and forth between his feet as he stood on your back patio, his smile morphing into something almost sheepish before his gaze dropped down to his feet. You watched him curiously as one of his hands rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don't wanna put you out,” he replied. “Really wasn’t any trouble.”

“You’re not putting me out at all,” you assured him. “Like I said, you just saved my morning. If you hadn't caught this little furry fugitive here I'd have been out running around all morning searching the whole neighborhood for her myself. And I really didn’t feel like doing that.”

Frank’s head rose up slightly, his eyes focusing on you from beneath his lashes. You could see the way he was contemplating your offer, his lips visibly twisting in thought. Eventually he gave you a brief nod, a smile growing wide across his mouth as his hand dropped back to his side. 

He certainly looked pretty damn good when he smiled like that.

“Alright, if I’m not botherin’ you,” he conceded.

You slid your back door open wider, waving him inside with a hand. “Absolutely not. Come on in.”

Frank stepped into your kitchen, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans as he did. You closed the door after him before gesturing to your kitchen table.

“You can sit,” you told him. “Make yourself comfortable. It'll just be a minute.”

“Alright,” he said.

As you made your way around the small island of your kitchen and over towards your espresso machine, Frank pulled out a chair at your table. You heard him settle down into it, something stirring nervously in your stomach as he did. You couldn't recall the last time a man was here in your kitchen while you made him a morning coffee.

That's not what this is , you quickly reminded yourself. It’s just a thank you.

Beginning to grind a fresh batch of coffee beans into the basket of the portafilter, the soft whirring noise filling your kitchen, you focused on making Frank a latte. But by the time you were tamping the grounds down, you distinctly heard the sound of Penny rising up onto her feet, her nails clicking along the floor. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw her make her way over to Frank with her ears somewhat lowered in something like apology. You rolled your eyes at your dog, shaking your head and grinning as she padded her way over to Frank.

“Think she's trying to make amends with you,” you told Frank, focusing back on the machine before you. Locking the portafilter in place, you reached up into the nearby cabinet and grabbed a mug. “Now she's going to give you the sad puppy face as an apology, but I can assure you she's not done trying to cause trouble. It’s just too much in her nature.”

Frank chuckled, the warm sound only growing your smile as you began extracting the shot of espresso into the mug. Turning around, you rested your back against the counter and watched as Frank's large hands affectionately scratched at Penny's ears. Her eyes were partially closed in delight, her tongue half hanging out of her mouth as her tail wagged ecstatically back and forth. She looked like she was in heaven, and honestly, you almost couldn’t blame her.

“Don't worry,” Frank said, his eyes focusing on you, his large hands still petting Penny, “I don’t fool easy.”

“Good,” you said, laughing lightly. “Because that's exactly what she expects.”

As the espresso finished pouring out into the mug behind you, you tried to ignore the warmth in your chest as you watched Frank. He looked so content sitting there at your table, the morning light casting a soft, warm glow over his face as he pet Penny who was happily soaking up the attention. It wasn't just Lily that he was apparently good with, which only had you biting your lip, admiring the curve of the smile on his mouth and the way his gray sleeved shirt clung to the muscles on his chest.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head and forced those thoughts straight out of your mind. Spinning back around towards your espresso machine when you heard the extraction end, you mentally chastised yourself. You shouldn't be standing here thinking about your neighbor like that, especially not when you barely knew him. 

“So,” you began, removing the mug and working on emptying the used puck from the portafilter into your garbage beside the counter, “how are you liking your first week here? I mean, I know it's not the most exciting place to live, but are you settling in alright?”

“Yeah,” Frank answered from behind you. “Been doing just fine. Got a job lined up already. Startin’ on Monday.”

“Oh?” you mused, heading back over to the kitchen counter and readying the frothing pitcher with milk next. “That was fast. You’ve barely been here more than a few days.”

“Apparently that Elite Construction Company was hiring,” he told you. “They had a few open positions and I have past experience workin’ in construction myself. Everything kinda just…worked out.”

As you held the pitcher in place under the steamer wand, the familiar, soft hissing noise of the milk being frothed filled your kitchen. Glancing back over your shoulder at where Frank sat, your brows rose up onto your forehead. 

“Elite Construction?” you asked. “My brother works there, too. I'm sure you'll end up meeting him since he’s always pulling as many hours as he can there. He seems to like it.”

“Good to know,” Frank said with a nod.

“So besides that,” you continued, “I take it the town has been treating you well so far?”

“Yeah, I've been settling in fine,” he continued with a shrug. “Nothin’ too exciting going on ‘round here, but that's what I was hoping for. Somewhere quiet. Calm.”

“Ahh yes, well you came to the right boring little town,” you said with a laugh, turning back around and shutting off the steamer. “Nothing ever really happens in Elmdale. Think our biggest event is a yearly summer block party downtown.” You tapped the pitcher on your counter lightly twice before beginning to gently pour out the frothed milk into the mug for Frank, perfectly drawing a rosetta across the surface. “It's basically just an excuse for The Crooked Antler and Half Moon to sell more beer to everyone. Except instead of sitting inside in the musty old bar, everyone sits outside all day eating burgers and listening to whatever bands they can pull together.”

Carrying the full mug in your hand, you made your way around your kitchen island and over towards Frank at the table. You set the latte down on the table in front of him, suddenly feeling a little nervous. You knew the two times that you'd seen him come into Common Grounds he'd only ordered a black coffee. What if he thought your lattes were terrible?

“Hopefully you like it,” you said, gesturing to the mug. “It's the same roast we use for lattes at the shop and I added just a little vanilla–you don't seem like a guy who enjoys overly sweet coffee.”

One of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. His head cocked to the side as he eyed you.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because you order your coffee black,” you told him. “And not something with tons of milk or various syrup flavors in it. So I imagine you can appreciate the taste of a good roast.”

“Hmm,” he hummed out.

One of his large hands finally left Penny’s head from where it rested along his thick thigh. Anxiously you stood there, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watched him grab the handle of the mug and raise it halfway to his mouth. He paused though, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he inspected the delicate design sitting on the top of his coffee. You nearly stopped breathing when he wordlessly drew the cup the rest of the way to his mouth and took a sip, eagerly watching his face.

Frank looked taken aback for a moment, swallowing the coffee down before lowering the mug and staring almost incredulously at it. Nerves melting away, a triumphant smile slipped across your lips. He liked it, you could tell.

“This is good,” he told you, his brown eyes flying up to meet yours, his brows drawing lightly together. “Never ordered a latte before. This how they always taste?”

You shrugged before turning and making your way back to your espresso machine. “Not necessarily,” you answered him, beginning to start the process over in order to make your own drink. “Depends where you go. What roasts you use. Type of milk. Amount of sweetener. Though that is how I prefer my lattes–a good dark roast, freshly made, with only a dash of sweetener. Extracted properly, the coffee itself does all the work.”

“Huh,” Frank mused behind you. “Take it you really like your coffee then.”

You paused your tamping of the portafilter, shooting Frank a grin over your shoulder. “Well yeah, that’s sort of why I opened a coffee shop,” you half-joked. “Maybe it’s a silly passion,” you continued, focusing back on making your drink, “but I think starting your day off with a good cup of coffee–or tea, if that’s what someone prefers–can make a world of difference. Maybe even turn someone’s day around.”

Continuing to work on your coffee, you remained distracted for the next couple of minutes. But it was impossible to forget about Frank’s presence behind you as you worked, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as if you could somehow tell when his eyes were on you. 

“So no little shadow following you around today?” Frank asked, breaking the silence.

“You mean Lily?” you questioned back, pouring the frothed milk into your own coffee mug. “My niece? Probably not today, no. Jaime usually has Saturdays and Sundays off, though sometimes he’ll take a late shift at The Crooked Antler on a weekend to make some extra cash.”

“It’s nice that you help your brother out like that,” he replied. 

“Yeah, well,” you began, carrying your coffee over towards the kitchen table and taking a seat beside Frank, “I couldn’t possibly leave him and Lily hanging. That’s just not me.”

Frank sat forward in his chair, both of his hands coming to wrap around his half-finished coffee. “Mother not in the picture? If you don’t mind me asking’.”

Swallowing down the sip of coffee, you shrugged a shoulder as you lowered your own cup back to the table. “Whole town already knows the story,” you answered. “Not really a secret. Lily’s mother had her issues, though I think Jaime was always secretly hoping the pregnancy would’ve helped her grow out of them. Take responsibility. She lasted maybe three weeks after Lily was born before she took off though.” Your eyes dropped down to your coffee mug, distinctly remembering the early morning call from your brother. “She’d just said she couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to be a mom and just…left. He’s never heard from her since.”

“That right?” Frank mused. “Shit, don’t know how someone could just take off on their own kid like that.”

“I’m right there with you,” you agreed, glancing back up at him with a sad smile on your lips. “Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents, I guess. Which is a shame for Lily, really. She’s asked about her mom now that she’s older and it’s heartbreaking to try to explain to a four year old that she’s just gone. I can’t even imagine how much that must hurt her.”

“She’s got you, though,” Frank pointed out.

“I do my best,” you admitted, drawing your mug back up to your lips, “but I’m not able to make up for what she’s really missing.”

Something flashed across Frank’s eyes at your words, an emotion you briefly caught flicker past them before his focus dropped down to the coffee mug in front of himself. His fingers began to nervously fidget with his mug, his expression suddenly difficult to read as his fingers tapped against the ceramic. For a moment you remembered last night how he’d mentioned having a daughter in the past tense and you wondered if that’s where his own thoughts had taken him now. To a family he was missing.

“So what about you?” he asked, his expression abruptly shifting back to something masked and neutral as he met your eyes again. “Always taking care of your niece and helping out your brother. There someone you got lookin’ out for you?”

The question had caught you off guard and you quickly tried to hide your surprise. Had he just asked you if you were seeing someone? Was that what he’d done? Nervously you cleared your throat, ducking your head and trying to fight the flush from rising to your cheeks. That had certainly been an unexpected question.

“Uh, well, no,” you admitted awkwardly. “Don’t exactly have time for, well, that. And there aren’t exactly a lot of prime options here in Elmdale, either. Not unless you like your man hitting up a bar blowing through his paycheck every night at seven.”

“Take it you say that from experience?” he asked.

Releasing a humorless laugh, you nodded. “Yeah, you could say that,” you told him. “Not a lot of real winners to choose from here, I’ll be honest. And it’s not like I’ve got time to make dating a priority right now. But it’s–it’s fine. The shop and Lily keep me busy.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him raise his coffee mug to his mouth, drinking more of it down. Biting your lip, you shyly looked back up at him, contemplating the curious question of your own that was dancing on your tongue. Surely asking him in return after he’d brought up the topic wasn’t out of line, was it? It was a normal thing to ask someone you were getting to know, wasn’t it?

“What about you?” you blurted out before you could change your mind. “I know you mentioned having a daughter?”

Frank’s eyes met yours, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed the mouthful of his coffee down. Gradually he lowered the mug back to your table without a word, a crease forming between his brow. That sad, hard to decipher expression was on his face again, though this time it looked raw and painful. He looked more vulnerable than he’d appeared to you in any other interaction you’d had with him yet, even the one with Lily late last night when he’d first mentioned having a daughter. You immediately felt regretful for bringing anything up.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately began, shaking your head. “You don’t have to answer that. I don’t mean to pry.”

“‘S’alright,” he murmured. “I was married for a while. Had two kids, a daughter and a son.” He paused, a faraway look forming in his eyes as he spoke, his attention suddenly shifting to a spot just over your shoulder. “Loved them more than anything. Truly were the brightest parts of my life, but…one day they were just taken from me.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you breathed out. “I–I can’t even imagine.”

  His eyes fell down towards your table, his lips thinning out along his face. “Wasn’t your fault,” he muttered. “Can’t exactly change the past now, neither. But…I miss them. Every day. Your niece though,” he continued softly, his sad gaze raising up to hold your own, “she reminds me a lot of my daughter when she was that age. Lisa was her name.”

A sad smile ghosted across your lips at his words. “She likes you,” you found yourself admitting. “Lily, I mean.”

Frank huffed out an amused breath, nodding lightly. “I like her, too. Definitely a spirited kid. Your brother is gonna have his hands full with her.”

You laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. “I tell him that all the time,” you said. “She’s stubborn and outgoing and cannot be persuaded when she gets something in her head. I can already picture her as a teenager. But she’s got a big heart.”

A silence settled in your kitchen among the pair of you. You couldn’t help but study Frank out of the corner of your eye, observing the quiet sadness that seemed to be emanating from him now. A sadness that hadn’t been quite so noticeable when he first showed up. You wished you knew what to say or do to comfort him, but anything that came to your mind felt vastly inappropriate, so instead you awkwardly chewed your lip, staring at your coffee mug.

“I should probably head back,” he eventually said. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do today and I’ve got a few errands to run myself.”

Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore the disappointment that fell into your gut. Though you knew he was right, realistically he couldn’t stay here and chat with you all morning, even if you had found yourself oddly enjoying his company.

“Right, of course,” you told him.

“Thank you for the coffee,” he said, sliding the chair back and rising up to his feet. “Maybe I’ll have to order something different at your shop next time.”

“I’d be happy to see you back there,” you told him, immediately cringing internally at how that had come out as you also rose to your feet. “Because there’s uh, certainly plenty to choose from to order.”

Frank shot you a polite smile as he made his way around your table and back over to the sliding door. You followed a few feet behind, awkwardly wrapping your arms across your chest as you watched him pull the door open.

“Thanks again for catching Penny,” you said. 

“Wasn’t a problem,” he assured you, stepping out onto your patio. “But if you need a hand tryin’ to fix something up to block that side of the fence, you just let me know, alright? I’m sure I can probably come up with somethin’ if you need help.”

“I will most certainly keep that in mind, thank you,” you replied with a smile.

Frank gave you a curt nod before he slid your door shut, and then he turned and made his way back next door to his side of the duplex. Silently you watched him, your eyes trailing over the broad muscles of his shoulders and back as he walked. Though you could still see the tension in him as he moved, the weight of what you now knew as grief just noticeable in his steps.

When he was out of sight you turned, releasing a sigh as you spotted Penny laying on the floor near the chair Frank had been sitting in. You shot her a pointed look, eyes narrowing.

“You need to relax on the escaping thing, girl,” you told her. “I don’t have time to deal with that, alright?”

You were about to head back over to your cup of coffee and finish it until your eyes landed on the stack of mail you’d tossed onto your small island counter. Making your way back over to the stack, you continued rifling through the envelopes, sorting out bills and junk mail alike. Though your hands eventually came upon a slip of paper folded in half that wasn't even inside an envelope. It appeared as if someone had just slid it in between the stack of mail in your mailbox. 

Curiously you picked up the sheet of paper, setting aside the other few unopened envelopes on your counter as you unfolded it. You were surprised to see a single line of typed text at the top of the page. Though as your eyes scanned the short sentence over multiple times, trying to make sense of it, a cold trickle of fear shot itself through your veins.

You owe me.

With sweat dampening your hands, you crumpled the sheet up into a ball, your heart beating a little faster as you stepped over to the garbage beside your counter. Tossing the paper away, you attempted to swallow down the lump forming in your throat as you stood rooted to the spot staring at the garbage can. 

That had to have been just some weird neighborhood prank, right? Something a teenager was just slipping inside people’s mailboxes because they thought it would be funny? There couldn’t possibly be anything more behind it than that. Because who else would’ve sent you a message like that?

[neptuneiris]

Behind the Scenes (05/05)

Behind the Success

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you and Aenar finally meet Aemond's family, closing one chapter of your life and starting a new one with Aemond in it.

word counter: 8.7k

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it's here!🥳

I've finally finished the chapter and I'm so excited for you guys to read this!

and how is it possible that another story is going to end soon? because if you didn't read my previous message, there will be an epilogue, so it's not yet the definitive goodbye for this little family we have created🤭

also before reading I want to thank you for your support and please leave me your opinion, lately the comments have gone down and I wish to read you🙏🏻

oh I also want to make a small clarification before you reed:

in the second chapter it is mentioned how aemond at the end confessed everything to his family in a desperate attempt to find Y/N. but let's forget that hehe🤭 let's pretend that aemond never told them so you can enjoy this chapter and the light drama you are about to read.

now read and enjoy, ily all!

warnings: slight angst, aemond's family melting our hearts when they meet aenar.

Aemond immerses himself in the world of acting with the same fierce dedication with which he confronts his characters on screen. Every move, every word, everything is carefully rehearsed and executed.

Each project is a challenge, an opportunity to explore new roles and demonstrate his versatility as an actor.

The hustle and bustle of the film set fills the air as he immerses himself in his role. The bright lights illuminate his face, conveying the intensity of his character as he delivers his lines with palpable emotion.

But when the bell rings, as well as the director's shout of "cut!" is heard, Aemond is Aemond again.

Behind all those shots, scenes, interviews and awards, no one knows that Aemond is a father, at least no one outside his close circle. He only confided the news to a few close co-workers, some production people and his older sister, Rhaenyra.

He managed to persuade some rumors after some people at first saw him entertaining Aenar in the nursery on the set, because even though there is nothing wrong with it and Aenar is his most precious treasure and a pride of his life, he knows it is better to protect him from the public eye.

And now that Aenar has his own nanny at home, sometimes even then the whispers would start to get too much and he would make sure that some member of the production crew, known for their ability to spread harmless gossip, would plant the idea that it was simply a close family friend of the child they had seen him with.

And in the midst of all his work and everything he has to do, Aemond finds the precious time to be with his son.

Aenar, a whirlwind of laughter and childlike energy, fills every space where the two are together with light. Games, stories and hugs become routine and Aemond cherishes every moment he can spend with him on his days off.

He even reduces his own working hours and focuses entirely on filming his scenes, also attending one or two interviews per month, in order to have more quality time with Aenar, who is more important than having to please the press at every moment.

And as he balances the intensity of the job with his responsibility as a father, Aemond fights for to rebuild the trust you once placed in him.

Every gesture, every conversation, was an effort to demonstrate that he is fully committed to getting things right this time. Every encounter with you, he demonstrates a quiet determination to making amends for past mistakes.

With carefully chosen words and acts of genuine support, he tries to show you that he understands the pain he had caused and is willing to go out of his way to regain your trust.

And you accept this, because you see how he makes an effort to open up more, to share his thoughts, his fears and his hopes. But above all, you see how he is making an effort with Aenar, which is the most important thing.

And you also see how parental responsibility has changed his perspective and maturity. But still, Aemond knows that rebuilding trust takes time and forgiveness is not something that can or should be rushed.

Even if you decide never to forgive him, he's okay with that and is getting the idea from now on that you only allow him to be close to you because of Aenar and only because of Aenar.

So in the meantime, you immerse yourself in your own workday.

The makeup and wardrobe trailer is a world of constant motion and productivity in any given area, though your mind is always on Aenar and also on Aemond.

And even though you both carry separate jobs at the same place during the day, you both manage to create a balance between your jobs and raising Aenar.

Evenings were for you and Aenar if Aemond didn't finish recording at the same time as your shift ends. And almost at dusk is when Aemond comes from work and devotes every minute of his free afternoon to Aenar.

Instead if you both finished your shifts at the same time, you both spent time together with Aenar.

However, the nights brought calm.

Once Aenar fell asleep and before Aemond retired, you and he find your own space to talk, share thoughts, talk about work or more importantly about Aenar. And today just happens to be one of those nights.

You finish cleaning the kitchen, while Aemond is sitting on one of the stools, with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking out the large windows to the back garden, thoughtful.

While he has in front of him the IPad with the image of the camera in Aenar's crib that records him sleeping, attentive and making sure he is well.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he says, breaking the silence in a soft voice, catching your attention.

You watch him from the sink, setting a clean, dry dish in the drainer, then drying your hands with a clean cloth.

"About what?" you ask him softly, attentively.

And he takes a moment before answering, thinking very carefully about his words and what he means, not wanting you to misunderstand him in any way.

"On Aenar and... us."

He confesses and you lean on the other side of the island that separates you both in front of him, giving him your full attention.

"At first..." he starts to say, slightly flustered, "You didn't want me to hide him from the world and I-I... well, I obviously disagreed with you."

He says and bites the inside of his cheek, lowering his gaze, feeling embarrassed.

"But now... I think it's not fair to him that no one has any idea that I have a son. It's also not fair for anyone to know that you're the mother of my child."

His gaze again meets yours and a sense of understanding envelops both him and you.

"Now things have changed," Aemond continues, his tone laden with sincerity, "And I know that you and I are n-not together but... maybe... I can announce the news, only if you want me to."

Silence fills the kitchen in its entirety for a moment, as Aemond holds his breath at your possible response, honestly feeling terrified to expect a bad reaction from you.

But none of that crosses your mind, on the contrary, you just digest his words. But your silence is what causes a mixture of expectation and anxiety in Aemond, who holds his gaze with yours, nervous.

And finally, with a serene sigh, you go around the island that separates the two of you and approach him, placing one of your hands on his shoulder gently and in an attempt to comfort and reassure him, instantly feeling his whole figure tense, while he watches you with his big healthy wide eye and his prosthetic eye remains the same as always.

"Aemond," you begin to say in a soft voice as he watches you completely attentively, "I always wanted you to recognize Aenar publicly, that was what I wanted most at first. But now...

You pause for a moment, thinking about your meditated words, as you sink for a second into your own thoughts and what you really want to say, as Aemond watches you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"I understand your world more now," you continue, "And, honestly, I can't blame you for not agreeing with me back then, only in this," you make clear, "Recognize him legally would have been the right thing to do and... enough," you say holding back the sadness in your tone of voice.

But Aemond catches that break in your voice, a moment of your vulnerability that makes him feel a sharp, simmering ache in his chest, as if every word you utter drops a weight on his shoulders, with shame again invading him, but this time with a mixture of deep remorse and regret.

A barely audible sigh escapes his lips, lowering his gaze, ashamed, feeling the burden of his past choices and he wonders amidst the brief silence if he will ever be able to fully redeem with himself.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it, as you gently squeeze his shoulder to bring his attention back to you.

"And now I understand that the press and people's opinions can be very dangerous and destructive," you say softly, "And I don't want that for Aenar, at least I don't want to deal with that yet," you confess, "I want him to grow up a little more and we can both enjoy his early years without having to worry about it."

An expression of surprise and also longing crosses Aemond's face, still watching you intently, processing your words.

"Are you sure?"

You place a soft smile on your lips.

"Very," you assure, "I just want him to grow up in a calm and safe place, without falling fame on him nor all this attention being so young," you explain, "I have no problem with it, but also your opinion counts."

"No, I-I... I want the same for him too," he agrees with you, nodding, with all the pressure and anxiety he felt being replaced by a mixture of gratitude and relief.

And you nod back at him, smiling softly in his direction.

"But..." he says with a slight urgency in his gaze and concern in his tone, "I just want you to know that when the time comes, I won't do it for attention or to be relevant."

He says seriously, softly and honestly.

""I'll do it because I know it's something I have to do, for him and for you, as in the beginning maybe it should have been. But for now I just want us to enjoy these moments and, when the time is right, make that decision together."

The room fills with the honesty of his words and you can feel the sincerity in each of them, as a sense of calm envelops you both and you share a soft, complicit smile.

"Sure," you nod to him, feeling a warmth wrap itself all over your chest.

Your gaze moves away from his for a moment, focusing on the iPad screen where Aenar is shown sleeping, while Aemond can't help but focus on the features of your face with an intensity that can't go unnoticed by you.

Deep longing is reflected in his gaze, with a palpable mix of regret and sadness that is projected beyond mere facial expression. And he feel that weight on his body and chest again, a burden he can't help but feel.

His healthy eye glides over your face as if searching for answers in every line of expression and in his gaze, you can perceive the longing to repair the irremediable, the need to know how much he regrets the decisions of the past.

"Y/N-

He starts to want to say, his voice laden with regret, but you turn your gaze to him and stop him.

"Aemond, we have already talked about this."

"But I'm sorry... I really am," he insists, with pain in his gaze, "And I know an apology isn't going to fix it, I know that, neither is anything else but... I am really sorry and you don't know how much I hate myself for everything I put you through."

"No," you shake your head, "There's no need for you to keep apologizing," you tell him softly, "It won't do either of us any good to keep bringing up the mistakes of the past. Nor will it serve you to keep punishing yourself for what has already happened," you say as tactfully as you can.

His expression reflects a mixture of gratitude and frustration with yourself.

"Yes, I know, I understand," he murmurs, lowering his gaze, "It's just... I feel like I have to say it."

"Aemond, what matters now is this, how we move forward from here now that we've both learned and grown. Aenar too," you add, "And that's all that matters."

He nods slowly in your direction, his gaze showing a mixture of appreciation and relief, even with the remorse within him, as you both then sink into a moment of silence, letting the unspoken words echo in the air, but you both know those words, they just don't need to be said.

The relationship dynamic between you and Aemond since then takes a new path, a less tense, more bearable path of total trust. And this is not lost when the two of you are together in Aenar's presence.

Until one day, on your day off precisely, Aemond after work, comes to you telling you some unexpected news.

"I told them."

You turn fully towards him, giving him your full attention, understanding but at the same time not what he really means.

The living room starts to feel tense, while Aenar completely oblivious to it continues to play on the floor with his toys, but you focus on his gaze, where there is a charge of confession in his eye and you notice his whole body in a position of determination but also nervousness.

"Come, sit down," you tell him in a soft voice, pointing to the couch, while at the same time getting up from the floor to take a seat next to him.

And he almost with a defeated expression and posture, does as you say, letting out a sigh.

"What happened?" you ask, watching him intently.

He inhales deeply, looking at Aenar on the floor, who is the only one who can make him feel a little calmer, as well as your presence next to him.

"I told them about everything that happened," he confesses to you, "Our relationship, your pregnancy, my team, the decision I made in the beginning, everything I caused and how much I hurt you," he says as he feels his heart knot, "Everything. Everything that happened from then until now... and Aenar."

His words leave a weight in the air, as you anticipate how bad and difficult that conversation must have gone with his family to see him this way, so serious and tense.

"And how did they react?"

Aemond closes his eye, lowering his gaze, his posture reflecting the emotional baggage he carries with him and how bad it definitely went with it.

"Just as I expected. Obviously they were disappointed in me."

He says without much emotion, but with slight pain in his tone

"My grandfather couldn't believe it and was shouting how come I kept all that from them. Hel was very shocked, Aegon and Daeron too. And mother said a few hurtful things, started crying and telling me how I could keep these things from her," he exhales deeply, "Rhaenyra and Daemon were the ones who helped me calm things down a bit, but still my grandfather and mother were upset with her for knowing and not saying anything."

The tension of what happened feels palpable, as if he is reliving his family's every reaction, with the heaviness of disappointment and pain reflected in his expression, as you beside hom, share the weight of that difficult moment.

You are both silent for a moment, only hearing the sounds of Aenar playing with his toys.

"I'm sorry," you whisper in his direction, placing your hand on top of his, as if trying to somehow ease the pain he feels, "It must have been very difficult for you."

"No, Y/N," he observes you instantly, speaking to you in a soft tone, "You don't have to apologize. I deserved this and I'm not saying it to cause pity or play the victim," he adds with earnest sincerity, "I'm saying it because it's true. This is the least I deserve after everything you had to go through because of me."

You decide not to say anything at this, just offer him your silent support, while he again seems lost in his own thoughts for a few long seconds, where neither of you say anything.

When suddenly, Aenar emits an infectious giggle, instantly attracting both of your attention.

His small hands hold a toy with enthusiasm, his smile and the tenderness he conveys bringing brightness to the living room and the state Aemond is in, who smiles softly at the scene, watching him with complete adoration.

He sighs and rises from the couch, moving towards him, holding him gently, needing the sensation at that moment of holding him in his arms.

Aenar squeals with excitement and joy, placing his small arms on his chest, moving energetically in his arms, smiling big at him with his blue eyes completely filled with a glow.

The scene makes you smile softly, especially when Aemond also takes one of his toys and begins to play with it in his arms as he starts to walk slowly around the living room, talking to it in a honeyed tone and causing Aenar to babble incomprehensible words but full of happiness in his tone.

And when Aenar entertains himself with his father's silver hair, Aemond speaks again, turning to you to observe you.

"Despite everything, they want to meet him," he says, watching Aenar in his arms, "And they also want to meet you, my mother more than anyone else."

And this also completely grabs your attention.

"Really?"

"Hmm," he nods, "But I didn't tell them yes or no," he lets you know, "I wanted to consult it with you first."

"But is this good or not?" you ask, looking to find positivity in the situation, "Or do you think they shouldn't know him yet?"

"Of course they should," he tells you softly, "I owe this to them, also to you. But as I tell you, I didn't know how you would react if I told you they would meet him soon, I wanted to check with you first."

You place a reassuring smile in his direction.

"Aemond, for me it's perfect for Aenar to meet his grandmother, his uncles and aunts. It's a great opportunity and will definitely be good for him," you assure him.

"Yes, it is," he nods, unconsciously beginning to imagine the moment, "They can come or we can go to them, whichever you decide."

"Either way is fine with me," you shrug, "When might that be?"

Aemond thinks for a moment before answering.

"We could arrange it next weekend. Sounds good?"

You nod with a reassuring little smile.

"Sounds good."

The Targaryen—Hightower family decides to come to you.

When Aemond gives you the news, even though at first you were totally fine and had no problem with it, inevitably knowing it instantly makes you nervous.

You've never met his family before, not even when you and Aemond were a couple for obvious reasons. And even though his family isn't involved within the entertainment and film industry, you've still heard enough about them to feel slightly intimidated.

About Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen more than anyone.

The uncertainty of how they will perceive you, especially after disappearing from Aemond's life without warning and also how they will treat you, that's what worries you the most.

But the fact that they will be coming to your house relieves you a little. Fortunately you won't be interacting with them in unfamiliar terrain and you're sure that the presence of Aenar, his toys and Aemond will go a long way to reassuring you.

"Do you need help?"

Aemond appears behind you, while you find yourself cleaning everything you can from your living room and Aenar, as usual, is sitting on the carpet with all his toys around him.

"I'm just cleaning up in here, then I'll go clean the kitchen."

"Don't worry, me and this little handsome will clean the kitchen."

He walks over to Aenar and takes him in his arms, who is already dressed in an outfit too cute for the occasion and smells like baby soap from the previous bath you gave him, ready to meet his family.

Aemond goes with him to the kitchen, sitting him in his perch, keeping an eye on him while at the same time starting to clean up.

You start moving some of Aenar's toys, organizing his play area a bit, to create a more orderly and cozy space in the living. You also mop the floor and arrange cushions.

Aemond washes a few dirty dishes and cleans all the shelves, also mops and spreads your favorite Lavender scent, which besides smelling amazing, calms your nerves.

You also ask him to help you tidy up the dining room while you clean the bathroom, wanting everything to look clean and spotless, while Aemond takes Aenar in his arms again to let him play in his play area and he watches him closely from that new distance.

"Maybe I should have cooked something?"

You walk over to him, slightly concerned.

"What? No," he turns to you, instantly, "Y/N, they're coming to meet Aenar, not to eat."

"I know, but..." you explain, nervously, "I thought maybe it would be a good idea to have something prepared, out of courtesy and.... I don't know. Won't it be rude of me if I don't have anything to offer them?"

"Of course not, you don't have to," he clarifies, more serious but with a soft tone, "If you want to have something prepared, let it be some drinks, nothing more."

Still you watch him hesitantly and worriedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure," he assures you, "In fact I'll prepare them. You rest and take care of Aenar. I'll finish cleaning up everything else."

"No, I-I-

"Rest," he repeats, interrupting you, placing a hand on your cheek gently, "I know this may be overwhelming, but they will come to meet Aenar and you too. And you don't have to put too much pressure on yourself. Everything will be fine."

Her warmth and understanding manage to comfort you a little, making you stop feeling so tense little by little.

"Now rest, okay?" he says softly to then walk past you and head towards the kitchen, not taking any argument back.

It's clear that he wants to lighten your load and make sure you feel comfortable about all this that's about to happen, with his actions conveying reassurance.

And finally after a while, you are ready and waiting in the living room with Aenar, playing with him, while Aemond is sitting on the single sofa and who a few minutes ago let you know that his family is on their way.

And after a few more long minutes, Aemond now lets you know that his family has already passed through the security gate that leads into the private neighborhood.

Knowing that fills you with nerves again, but Aenar's babbling as he hands you his currently favorite toys distracts you a bit.

"Are you okay?"

Aemond asks you from where he sits, watching you intently and noticing the tension all over your face and body, while you try to look completely calm and relaxed.

"Yeah, yeah, just... a little nervous," you say trying to place a genuine smile on your face as you distract yourself by touching Aenar's toys, "Who exactly is coming? Other than your mother and siblings," you can't help but ask.

"My grandfather."

You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you more, but he doesn't.

"And that's everyone?"

"Well, Rhaenyra said my nephews wanted to come too, my uncle Daemon with his daughters too but I asked them to wait a little longer," he explains to you slightly concerned, "I didn't want you to feel nervous and overwhelmed if my whole family invaded your house. And Aenar sure would have felt scared too."

You bite the inside of your cheek and he rises from the couch to walk over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry, okay? It's going to be fine. They're excited to meet you and Aenar."

You release a long breath through your nose, placing one of your hands on top of his, feeling your shoulders especially start to feel less tense.

"Yes... thank you," you tell him with gratitude in your gaze, appreciating his support.

And then the doorbell rings.

Aemond gives you one last reassuring glance, assuring you that everything will be fine, then turns and heads for the door to greet them, as you rise from the couch and take Aenar in your arms.

The tension in your shoulders gradually dissolves as you hold your baby in your arms, replaced by a sense of calm, as you watch the front door intently and finish mentally preparing yourself.

Aemond opens the door gently with a warm smile on his lips and the first to enter is his mother, Alicent Hightower, in a beautiful, elegant green dress, followed by who you assume is Otto Hightower, his grandfather.

His mother wraps her arms around him and leaves a loving kiss on his cheek which Aemond reciprocates, as he also greets his grandfather, who watches the entire interior of the house with an inspecting gaze.

Behind Otto enters Rhaenyra, who embraces Aemond.

"Thank you for coming," Aemond says to her, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course," she smiles at him, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as well before pulling away from him.

"You guys too, thank you," she says to Aegon and the rest of her brothers, "Come on in."

Both brothers, Aegon and Daeron, embrace him, speaking words of assurance, leaving Helaena at last, who throws herself into his arms with obvious emotion, smiling with joy and longing, as Aemond leaves a kiss in her hair.

Then Aemond closes the door and before heading towards you, who are still standing very still near the couch with Aenar in his arms, his whole family finally notices you and especially the child in your arms.

"Thank you for coming, all of you," Aemond repeats as he turns to you, "Let me introduce you to Y/N," he points to you, "She works on the same recording set I am currently working on as well."

You put on the best friendly and kind smile possible, as Aemond takes Aenar in his arms so that you can meet his family. And the first to address you is Alicent, with her stunning elegance and a soft smile on a warm face.

"Nice to finally meet you, my dear. My son has spoken so much about you."

The tension almost completely leaves your body, feeling grateful and relieved by the welcoming tone of her voice, evaporating your fear about how everyone, especially her, would treat you.

"The pleasure is mine. I'm happy you're here."

You reach out your hand to her and, pleased, she takes it. But she takes you by surprise when she pulls you closer to her and wraps you in a gentle embrace, definitely not expecting that.

You freeze for a moment, then, a little hesitantly, return her embrace, grateful for the affectionate welcome. And when you both part, she has a smile that denotes sincerity and cordiality, then points you to Aemond's grandfather behind her.

"This is my father, Otto," Alicent introduces you as he watches you with an appraising expression, "He has also heard much about you and was very pleased to come here."

And though his look is somewhat... intimidating, you don't let that invade your nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hightower," you tell him in a soft, polite voice, extending your hand to shake with his as well.

"The pleasure is mine, Y/N," he replies in a low, polite voice, shaking your hand briefly.

"And this is Rhaenyra," Alicent points you to the woman who is just as refined as she is and shares Aemond's same characteristic of silver hair, as do the rest of his siblings.

She smiles towards you and gracefully approaches, then embraces you in greeting mode, as does Alicent.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she tells you cheerfully, "Aemond told me so much about you and of course your little one," she tells you as she gives Aenar a loving look.

"The pleasure is all mine. Aemond also spoke a lot about you and was very excited to meet you," you tell her, as she holds your hands in a gentle grip.

"Well here we are," she tells you without wiping away her smile, then looks behind her, turning her attention to the rest of Aemond's siblings, "Oh and they are my siblings," she gestures you towards Aegon, Daeron and Helaena, who have friendly glances in your direction.

Aegon steps forward first, extending his hand.

"I am Aegon. I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed with so many silverheads invading your home."

"No, no, not at all," you laugh softly, taking his hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Aegon."

Daeron is next, greeting you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Daeron. Aemond told us a lot about you and Aenar."

"Pleasure to meet you, Daeron," you say, noting the sincere camaraderie emanating from both brothers.

And finally, Helaena gives a few towards you, with an expression of pure excitement on her face and hugs you effusively.

"At last we meet!" she exclaims happily, "I was so excited to see you."

"Oh," you respond to her hug also a little surprised and with gratitude, "It's nice to meet you. Aemond has also told me a lot about you.".

"Good things, I hope," she says with a smile, pulling away from you.

And gosh, you can just see how much her sisters and brothers resemble Aemond. Their beauties are otherworldly and even Alicent is truly beautiful, as much as Rhaenyra is.

"And this..." begins to announce Aemond with Aenar in his arms and a radiant smile lighting up his face as he approaches the center of the living room, where his entire family watches him intently, "This is our son, Aenar," he says with pride in his voice, finally introducing his son.

Everyone's gaze focuses on the baby in Aemond's arms, who oblivious to the situation, watches them back with his huge bright blue eyes curious and expectant, while you place a small smile, anticipating the magical meeting of your little one with the rest of his family.

Helaena, visibly moved, can't hold back tears and tries to calm herself, with happiness, longing and nostalgia in her eyes. Aegon smiles with pride and Rhaenyra with adoration.

And meanwhile, Daeron, Otto and Alicent barely finish processing the reality of having Aenar in front of them.

Until Alicent steps forward gently, his eyes and gaze shining with curiosity, slight surprise, longing and adoration as he watches the little one, his newly presented grandson.

"Is that my grandson?" she murmurs in disbelief with tears beginning to form in her eyes and a hand on her chest.

Aemond, with a warm smile, nods at the question.

"Yes, Mom," he gently observes her and seeing her condition, looks at her with complete understanding, "Do you want to hold him?" he offers, carefully extending Aenar to her, sharing in the joy of her holding her grandson.

Alicent, tears streaming down her cheeks and visibly moved, nods in a touched nod with her gaze reflecting all her emotions, joy and awe.

She takes another step forward and reaches out her arms, where Aemond carefully places Aenar in her arms, who now watches him adoringly and with a mixture of happiness and emotion reflected in her gaze.

Alicent can't help but let out a couple more tears as Aenar babbles and watches her with great wonder, moving his small hands to her brown hair, starting to play with her curls, making her laugh softly in the midst of her tears and all the emotions she feels.

Aemond watches his mother tenderly as she enjoys her first encounter with her grandson, while you can't help but feel moved as well and wipe away a few tears that have escaped your eyes, watching the moment with emotion and nostalgia.

"My little Aenar," Alicent whispers, tenderly kissing his forehead, cradling him in her arms.

Aemond, still smiling and holding back his tears, diverts his gaze to you and you watch him back, where you both share a small smile and a silent complicity, both feeling the same way and recognizing the happiness this moment has brought to your lives.

And then Helaena approaches together with Daeron towards her mother, to watch Aenar and share the joy of the moment.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comments Helaena, smiling, as Daeron watches him with a small smile of adoration and strokes his silver hair tenderly.

"Absolutely beautiful," whispers Alicent, her eyes shining with tenderness, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"He's lovely," Rhaenyra comments with her soft little smile.

And then Alicent lifts his gaze to Aemond.

"And he looks exactly like you, darling," she tells him tenderly, recognizing the familiar features on Aenar's face and creating a moment full of emotion and family connection.

Aemond, touched and grateful, smiles at his mother's words.

"I think he has a little bit of both," Aemond replies, sharing a proud look with you.

Aenar physically by hair and eyes resembles Aemond, but some features of his face he definitely inherited from you and you can't help but smile in his direction.

And then, within the next few minutes, the whole family continues to make affectionate moments with Aenar. Helaena being the most excited is the one who now holds Aenar tenderly in her arms, leaving a couple of loving kisses on her cheek, while Rhaenyra approaches her to observe Aenar with a motherly gaze.

The imposing figure of Otto Hightower stands watching with satisfaction the scene unfolding in front of him, especially as he sees the happiness and excitement of Alicent and his grandchildren.

He doesn't say much, but his presence exudes a sense of quiet approval and though he doesn't show it, he honestly feels proud of Aemond, this reunion of his family and the arrival of a new member to it.

As Aegon approaches towards Aemond with a friendly, warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder where he shares his gesture of brotherhood and pride.

"Congratulations, brother," he tells him sincerely, "He is beautiful and a mini version of you."

Aemond nods gratefully, the smile on his lips and places one of his hands on top of his.

"Thank you, brother. I appreciate it."

Now it is Daeron who takes Aenar in his arms and carries him to his play area, followed by Helaena, Rhaenyra, Alicent and you.

Helaena also takes a seat on the carpet with Alicent and the three of them start playing with him, who shows his enthusiasm and fills the living room with his giggles, melting the hearts of everyone present.

The atmosphere definitely becomes livelier and warmer, transforming into a special moment for everyone, where both you and Aenar feel completely comfortable and happy.

And as a few long minutes pass, Aemond watches all the interaction, happy and completely pleased, seeing how you converse with Rhaenyra and the rest of his family is totally entertained by Aenar.

Even his mother asks to have her picture taken with him and slowly begins to fill a new photo album of her grandson on her phone reel, completely enchanted with him.

Such a sight and such a moment couldn't make him happier, being a moment he needed so much and couldn't be more proud of. And how could he not?

His watching his son integrate into his family. And you are definitely getting along great with all of them.

Aegon stands by his side, sharing the gesture of complicity as they watch Helaena and Daeron make sounds with Aenar's toys that make him laugh and squeal with happiness.

Absolutely beautiful.

"So..." Aegon begins to say beside him, catching his attention, "You're going to show him to the world?"

He watches him intently, as Aemond holds his gaze for a second to look back at Aenar with an affectionate gaze, smiling softly.

"That's what Y/N would have wanted at first, when she got pregnant," he says softly, remembering those painful moments, "But no, at least not yet," he replies, turning his gaze back to his brother, "We talk and want to give him a normal childhood as much as possible."

Aegon nods with understanding, listening to him with full attention, then lets out a sigh, watching Aenar.

"The world is going to go mad when they find out, little brother," he says with an amused smile.

"I don't care," he says with a shrug, "All I care about is him."

Aegon smiles warmly again, acknowledging Aemond's priority as a father and he couldn't be prouder of him. He may be the older brother but Aemond...he's the one who matured first, always cleaning up his shit and making sure everyone was okay.

And even though when Aemond told them about this, about you and Aenar, it turned out to be a complete disaster, Aegon is glad that right now his family is responding in this way, loving you and Aenar.

"And what happened to Criston?"

He decides to ask you, curious and attentive, as Aemond takes a moment and exhales deeply, he too being a person who brings back horrible memories of the past.

"I fired him," he replies with a disinterested wave of his hand, "And his entire team too," he adds, "That's what I should have done in the beginning with him."

"And he threatened you?"

Aemond lets out an amused smile, remembering those days as well.

"Yes but I hired a lawyer and they made him sign a confidentiality sheet," he explains, "He couldn't do anything against that."

Aegon nods, pleased to hear those words, as you both turn your gaze back to the family, where Aenar's laughter still echoes throughout the living room, Aemond smiling lovingly as he watches his mother assail him with soft kisses.

Your soft laughter catches your attention as well, watching you with almost the same adoration and love as he watches Aenar, watching you converse with Rhaenyra where you both let out soft giggles at whatever it is you are talking about.

And he can't help but watch you extra longingly, wistfully, happily and longingly, loving to see the smile on your lips and the look of joy you have, his perfect and beautiful Y/N.

He honestly doesn't know what would have become of him if he had never seen you again. He'll probably still be sunk in his misery, regretful and trapped. But with each passing day he thanks the Gods for this, again and again, this second chance.

And Aegon doesn't take this unnoticed, the way his brother is looking at you.

"You really fucked things up with her, didn't you?"

His words break the spell he was under and he bites his lips, averting his gaze from you, beginning to feel ashamed and also with that guilt simmering in his chest.

"Yeah," he replies in a low murmur.

"You still love her."

Aegon tells him watching him intently with a complicity and understanding, not asking any questions, as he is making a statement, affirming it.

And Aemond again speaks the truth, neither denying it nor hiding it.

"Never stop doing so."

Aegon lets out a long breath, honestly feeling bad for him, to place his hand on his shoulder again.

"Brother, we all make mistakes," he tells him softly, "People fuck up and fuck up badly. I'm sure you get that from a person like me," he points to himself, still speaking in a serious tone, "And the important thing is to learn from them and move on. And I'm sure she's seen that in you."

"No, Aegon," he says softly, shaking his head, "What happened between us was different and... unforgivable," he says with the slight pain in his tone, "This is all happening only for Aenar and his well-being."

"So you don't plan to do anything about it?"

"I don't know," he says regretfully, letting out a sigh, "Things are complicated. And with everything that happened surely Y/N doesn't feel that way about me anymore. Besides what really matters is Aenar and I want to be a good father to him."

"I understand that, brother. But maybe all is not lost and all you need to do is try," he tells him in an encouraging tone, "Life is unpredictable, you know? And who knows... maybe Y/N still has feelings for you."

Aemond grimaces.

"I don't know, bro. I don't think so."

Aegon decides to say no more, just nods, for after all, he understands the complexity of his situation. And inevitably, though he shouldn't, with the words he has spoken to him, Aemond feels a small glimmer of hope.

Meanwhile the inside of your house continues to fill with laughter and conversation as everyone enjoys family time. And in the middle of it all, Alicent notices you going to the kitchen for a moment, this catching her attention and being the opportunity to talk to you.

So, giving her attention away from her grandson since she arrived, without saying anything to anyone, she discreetly follows you into the kitchen.

As she passes through the frame, she sees you arranging the drinks that Aemond prepared for them on a tray, wanting to offer them. But when Alicent's figure entering the kitchen catches your attention, you immediately turn to her.

"I don't intend to take up too much of your time, my dear," Alicent hastens to speak with a small smile on her lips.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," you nod immediately, "Do you need something?"

"I just want to talk to you," she answers you softly, "And it's nothing bad, I just... want to thank you for welcoming us into your home," she says, showing the sincerity in her look and tone, "I honestly haven't felt this happy in my life in a long time. And meeting Aenar has definitely made me very happy," she pauses a little, "Thank you."

"No, no, you don't have to thank me," you reply, with a soft look, "It's a pleasure to have all of you here. And you have made Aenar very happy too."

"No, I really do thank you," she insists with a soft tone, "Your home is beautiful and definitely an excellent place for Aenar to grow up."

"Oh, thank you," you smile kindly at her, "Actually this house was bought by Aemond. He must have told them or at least you, I suppose."

"Yes, he did," she nods, "He also told us how much you refused at first but I understand you. It must have been a very meaningful but very overwhelming gesture for you."

You nod with understanding, biting your lips.

"Yes," you murmur, "Yes it was. But I only accepted for Aenar," you hasten to clarify, "I didn't do it for my own convenience, whether for money or fame. I accepted for Aenar, so that he could have his father in his life and together give him the best."

"Yes, sweetheart," she advances towards you and takes your hands between her gently, "I know," she assures you, "You don't have to explain anything, everything is more than understandable."

You let out a long breath.

"Thank you," you tell her sincerely.

"It's okay," she smiles softly at you, "And listen, I-I... I really don't want to make you uncomfortable nor do I want to make you feel bad, in fact Aemond asked me not to talk to you about this but..." she looks at you with some tenderness and longing, "I just want to tell you how very brave you are, Y/N."

You shudder at the sweetness of her unexpected words, feeling a warmth run through your chest as a mixture of gratitude and longing flashes across your face, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable.

"I didn't blame you for deciding to run away, no one judges you for it."

She lets you know by telling you in a soft voice and as tactfully as possible.

"As much as I would have loved to have met you sooner, Aemond's decisions were terrible and I can't imagine everything you had to go through on your own," she says with slight shock and sadness, holding your hand tighter, "Your pregnancy, living in a new unfamiliar place and trying to make it on your own."

You bite your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your chest and tears begin to form in your eyes, but you gather your strength and try not to let them fall despite the memories of painful moments.

Her words resonate with genuine understanding and her warm touch brings you a comfort you didn't expect but definitely needed.

"Yes," you whisper, feeling the lump in your throat, "It was very scary and very difficult," you confess, "But Aenar made every sacrifice worth it."

"Of course," she murmurs, with a sympathetic look.

"Oh and... it must have been hard for you too," you say, remembering, "In those days seeing Aemond so sad and desperate must have worried you a lot. It even almost put in danger his career and you had no idea about me and what had happened."

"Yes, that was very scary too," she nods with a sad smile, "We didn't know what had happened, he pushed everyone away, even Helaena and... I couldn't stand to see him like that, but he wouldn't accept our help either," she explains, "But now, just like me, I've never seen Aemond so happy in his life."

Her tone is genuine and you hold her gaze with appreciation and understanding, feeling completely grateful for this pleasant acceptance and welcome by Aemond's family.

And in that moment you can feel, as Alicent does, how your connection grows stronger in your shared understanding of past challenges and new hope.

"You are a strong woman, Y/N. And I also want you to know that regardless of the circumstances between you and Aemond, I want you to know that you are part of our family now and we are here to support you."

You feel a happiness and relief course through your body, grateful for her words and her total understanding, as you nod in her direction.

"Thank you, Alicent."

And Alicent unable to contain herself, wraps you in a hug full of tenderness that you reciprocate, with the atmosphere filling with a sense of mutual acceptance and support.

And from there, the rest of the afternoon is spent sharing laughter and creating special memories.

Aegon plays with Aenar while Daeron and Helaena join in the fun, making your little one laugh with every quip and funny face that Aegon especially makes.

Alicent and Rhaenyra also join in, creating a connection with Aenar and showing him affection, while Aemond and you watch it all sitting together on the couch, each with a smile on your lips.

Until the visit comes to an end and the family says goodbye with expressions of gratitude and affection. Helaena is the one who insists on exchanging numbers to stay in touch, while she along with Alicent and Aegon promise to visit again soon.

It's a bit hard for Alicent to want to let go of Aenar, but eventually she does and then Aemond and you finish picking up and sorting all of Aenar's scattered toys.

Until it's also time for Aemond to leave.

"Thank you for this day. It was amazing and better than I could have hoped for. Even mom loves you more than she ever loved me."

You smile in his direction sincerely, laughing softly.

"It was nothing, Aemond. It was all very nice. Your family was very kind and Aenar had a great time."

"Yes," he murmurs as he watches his little boy adoringly and then turns his gaze back to you, "Still, thank you... for everything."

You see the intent in his gaze, also in his body, the way he fights it, catching your attention and being a bit amused at it, then moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him.

Surprised and definitely not expecting that, Aemond doesn't take long to reciprocate your embrace, a little hesitantly at first but he does, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against him.

A sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eye, feeling that warmth in his body and that almost happiness at the sensation of having you close again.

He had missed it.

The embrace conveys a mutual support and understanding, also a kind of affection that Aemond can't quite decipher.

But honestly at that moment he doesn't mind and allows himself to enjoy and seize every moment of this feeling, knowing that he may not be able to have you again soon in this way, before you both part and he drives to his apartment.

Regular visits from the Aemond family to your home become a pleasant daily moment. Each encounter brings laughter, love and a sense of family unity.

Aenar, with his contagious laughter, becomes the center of attention, further strengthening family bonds.

The bond between Aenar and his relatives grows stronger over time, so his extended family becomes fully involved in his growth and development. Laughter and play fill the halls of your home, creating precious memories.

Eventually you also meet the rest of Aemond's family as well as Aenar, like Daemon Targaryen, who is definitely a bit more intimidating than Otto Hightower. But once Daemon feels confident, he's the coolest guy.

You also meet Aemond's cousins, the twins Baela and Rhaena, Daemon's daughters, who are extremely kind and sweet to you.

And you also meet Rhaenyra's sons, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, where eventually she also introduces you to her youngest children, Aegon and Viserys.

Your relationship with each member of the Targaryen-Hightower family develop into genuine friendships. Helaena, Rhaenyra and Alicent become confidants and allies to Aenar's shared upbringing.

The complicity between the women in the family is supportive and builds a safe and loving environment for Aenar and the rest of the children.

Until, on occasion, you decide to take Aenar to the majestic Targaryen-Hightower mansion. The incredible residence becomes a second home for him, who explores every corner with curiosity and becomes familiar with the new walls.

Aegon, as the older brother he is, becomes his second protective figure. Together they share adventures through the mansion's extensive gardens and enjoy playing with Legos blocks or his plastic carts.

With Helaena, she connects with Aenar through her charm and utterly beautiful aura, always playing with him, carrying him in her arms and telling him fantasy stories with gestures and figures.

And with Daeron, Aenar loves it when he watches his favorite cartoons with him. Also eventually Aenar becomes his weakness, as he always fills him with more toys and always thinks of him to give him everything that makes him happy, even food.

And when Aenar cries, Daeron is the first of the siblings to come to him, slightly concerned and immediately wanting to make him feel good.

Meanwhile, your relationship with Aemond, while not resuming the romance of the past, transforms into a serene, enjoyable and respectful one. Aenar's upbringing becomes the main point of building his future and lacking nothing.

Although memories of the painful past persist, both have learned to cope and accept it, in order to move forward.

And eventually, in a significant moment and one that lasted hours of conversation between Aemond and you, also one that was an arduous process of documentation and much waiting, a culmination of a stage of your life is realized that further solidifies the unique connection between Aenar, Aemond and you.

A recognition that brings with it a clear message of commitment and love for the future of your family. The significant moment when Aemond asks for your permission to legally recognize his child and you allow him to do so.

It was not something you had to think about too much, as Aemond has shown you so much and the emotion in his eyes through his tears when you said yes, only further confirmed the fact that you were not making a wrong decision.

And everyone in the family celebrates when Aemond's last name is added to your son's name and he is finally named Aenar Targaryen.

general taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Prologue)

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Tw: Danny is having a Certified Bad Time™️, dissociation, vivisection mention, suicidal thoughts (kinda?), basically just heavy angst for now

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

Note: you don’t need to read this chapter to understand the rest of the story, it’s mostly just to explore Danny’s headspace when he first escapes the GiW

(Pt. 1)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

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Danny rocked back and forth, trying to soothe himself as the truck he was in continued to speed along.

It had been an eternity since he was captured by the GiW. He didn’t know why they were moving him to a new base after all this time, but he knew it wasn’t a good thing.

Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid.

He couldn’t feel much of anything these days. The GiW had a routine and they stuck to it religiously, and that routine had sucked every bit of Danny’s soul out of him.

Something churned in his chest regardless. Anticipation? Excitement, maybe?

Perhaps they were finally going to let Danny fade. Was that a bad thing? Danny couldn’t decide if it was or not.

He wasn’t scared of fading. It seemed inevitable, especially with how he was treated on the daily. He would stop hurting if he faded.

Still, he’d like to see Jazz and Tucker and Sam at least one more time before he does. That would be nice.

The truck continues forward, unmoved by Danny’s thoughts.

The sound is nice, Danny thinks.

The hum of the engine, the crackling of pebbles being crushed under the tires, the electrical buzz of the anti-ghost handcuffs and shield keeping him trapped.

The only sound Danny’s heard the last few years has been the clatter of metal tools, the crunching of bone, the sawing and thunking and squishing of surgery, the murmur of voices.

It’s nice to hear something new, Danny thinks.

Strange, but nice.

The truck stops again. Another red light, probably. Danny continues rocking back and forth, back and forth, like the ticking of a clock.

Seconds pass. Second after second after second.

Danny hears shouting now.

Gunshots crack outside, and Danny sees holes appear in the side of the truck.

That’s definitely new.

Chaos is erupting outside. There’s a lot of screaming, and frantic footsteps, and cars zooming away.

The driver door slams open and shut. The truck speeds off, tires screaming as the driver swerves erratically.

Danny is thrown back and forth in the back of the truck, bumping up against the many weapons and other miscellaneous inventions stored alongside him. Pain blooms in his head and chest, an agonizing heat lining his surgical wounds. Danny licks his lips underneath his muzzle. It would be nice if the driver was a bit better at their job, he thinks.

The truck continues careening wildly.

Danny counts the seconds.

Second after second after second.

After around two thousand, three hundred and seventy four seconds, the truck comes to a stop. Danny didn’t lose count this time. He’s proud of himself.

The driver door opens and closes yet again. There’s chatter outside, excitement clear in the voices that Danny hears. There’s lots of talk of “congratulations,” and “lucky that the Bat didn’t follow you here.”

Then, the back of the truck is opened. Danny hears noises of confusion and shock. He turns his head, looking to see what’s happened.

There’s several men at the door of the truck. They’re wearing black tuxedo suits—Sam was right, black really is such a pretty color—and they’re staring at him.

They begin talking among themselves. Something about them not knowing about a kid, and not knowing what to tell the boss. It’s confusing to him. It’s not what he usually hears spoken.

Then, one of them climbs up into the truck. He approaches Danny slowly, speaking in a calm voice. He’s asking Danny if he can stand, he realizes, asking him if he knows why he’s in the truck.

Danny just stares at the silver glint of the gun at the man’s side.

It’s a nice one, he thinks. Semi-automatic, with a few modifications to make the reloads smoother and the gunshots quieter. His fingers twitch. He’d like to poke at it a little, see if he could improve it any.

The man notices where he’s staring and curses. He takes the gun and lowers it to the floor. Danny just continues to stare.

Silver is an ugly color, he thinks. He much prefers black.

Silver is the color of stainless steel, the color of lab and surgical equipment.

He doesn’t like it much.

The man reaches out a hand and grabs Danny’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

After a moment, he sighs, and hoists Danny up, carrying him effortlessly. He hands him to one of the men outside of the truck, hopping down himself a moment later.

They’re warm, Danny realizes.

He curls further into the new man’s arms, closing his eyes. It’s nice, he thinks, being held like this. He hasn’t been held with such care in a long, long time.

The man sets him down on a crate.

After a moment Danny opens his eyes again, watching as the many black-suited people take things out of the truck. He counts the inventions in his head as they do so, beginning to rock again.

Then, a new man enters the room, and everyone freezes.

He’s congratulating them, asking them about their escape, and then he spots Danny.

Danny would very much like to be invisible right about now.

“Where did you get him?” He asks, tapping his umbrella against the floor.

“He was in the truck,” the man who carried him says, “we don’t know why.”

The stout man looks at him closely.

“How did you get into a government weapon shipment? Did someone put you in there?”

Danny nods his head. He tries to speak, but his voice cracks painfully underneath his muzzle.

“You- someone get that thing off his face,” he says. Several of the other men scurry off, probably looking for something that can break the muzzle, “can you speak?”

Danny shrugs. He tries to talk again, but it seems that his voice doesn’t want to cooperate with him. The only sound he can make is a painful, broken wheeze.

“Hey,” the man says, resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “if it hurts to talk, stop trying, alright? We’re gonna get that muzzle and those cuffs off, and then we’ll figure out why you were in there. You know how to write?”

Danny nods.

“Good,” the man responds.

“You two, get something to write with,” he barks to a few of the other suited men. They, too, run off.

A few people come up, carrying a bolt cutter and a few other tools with them. They make quick work of the muzzle and handcuffs, the restraints falling to the floor with a clattering sound.

Danny looks down at his hands. They’re shaking. Slowly, slowly, he brings them up to his face. Thin fingers brush up against cracked, dry lips. He’s fascinated by the sensation.

Someone brought him a mirror, he realizes.

That can’t be right, though. The person looking back at him…isn’t him. That isn’t Danny.

That face is not his face.

Their cheeks are far too thin and sunken, their eyes dull and haunting. They’re far too old as well, they look like a young adult.

Still, they move when he moves. They stare at him with a look of fascinated horror that’s far too familiar.

He brings his hand up to his head, and they follow his movements. He trails his fingers over the stitches in his head, and they do the same.

Danny tries to speak, but is cut off by a painful cough.

One of the men brings up a pencil and notepad. Slowly, shakily, Danny writes down a question.

“What year is it?”

The man who had spoken to him earlier quirked his eyebrow up. He answers, and Danny freezes in place.

“What’s wrong?”

Danny looks down at his hands again. He looks into the mirror. The stranger staring back looks horrified. They look sad. They look…like him.

Danny lets out a mournful keening sound. He curls up into himself, covering his face with his arms. Distantly, he’s aware of someone rubbing circles into his back. He cries harder, his entire body shaking.

Three years.

It’s been three years since he was captured, three years of being cut open and sewn back together. Three years of burns and cuts and chemical damage and electrical shocks.

Three years of torture.

Danny sobs, hands gripping the thin fabric of his medical gown like a lifeline. Three years.

Danny’s being lifted up again. He wraps his arms around the person holding him and wails into their shoulder. Everything is quiet.

“I’ll deal with the kid,” the man holding him says, “the rest of you, finish unpacking the truck and dump it somewhere that the Bat won’t connect to me.”

The man brings Danny through the building, still rubbing his back comfortingly. He’s humming some song that Danny doesn’t recognize, occasionally pausing to bark orders at people.

Danny’s beginning to calm down now. He’s still shaking, but his breathing is beginning to even out.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt alive enough to cry.

He feels exhausted.

Danny tries to hold onto consciousness for as long as possible, but he’s so tired, and so sad, and he’s being held, and he’s warm, and…

Danny’s eyes flutter shut.

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