#he literally has taken them off his waist before but some people looked at him funny and hes now on high alert

[hauntingblue]

Will I ever get over garp's scottish accent....

[writingroom21]

Play with me

Pairing: Bestfriend!Rafe x fem!reader

Summary: After the game of truth or dare, it's never mentions. Both of you rather playing games with each other till you break

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, cream pie, light nipple play, Oral (f&m receiving), teasing, getting caught, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 5.1K

part 1

Four days.

Four fucking days since the truth or dare gate. You’ve seen Rafe everyday since and he has not mentioned it once. Deciding that he would rather torment you then talk about it. The only acknowledgement of the incident coming from the next morning when you two woke up. You had fallen asleep shortly after and he followed along. When you woke up he was still sleeping,he was laying on his back with his right arm over his eyes. His mouth was slightly open and he let out light snores. You lay there next to him watching, tracing shapes on his chest.

Rafe has slept over plenty of times, you’ve also slept at his more times than you can count. None of the mornings after a sleepover felt as strange as this. Before last night the idea of this never really seemed possible. Every chance to screw each other was never taken on both ends. The two of you were always flirting with one another, everyone at school thought you were together. Yet it never happened, that’s why it’s shocking to think it finally did. “It’s not nice to wake up someone who’s sleeping.”

His morning voice will never get tiring, music to your ears. “It is when their snoring woke you up.” The arm covering his view comes down and holds your hand on his chest. His eyes adjust to the sunlight shining through the window. “M’sorry. Next time suffocate me.” Rafe turns to his side to face you when he hears your giggles. The hand holding yours wraps your arm around him as his hand finds your waist. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

You blush at the new nickname. People have joked that you’re sweet as an angel but he was never one of them. He usually stuck to babe, baby, princess, and sometimes hot stuff. You can’t say that you hate the nickname, you actually like it. You’ve always been acknowledged as the good girl with the bad influence. Just maybe they were right because for some reason you can’t shake the feeling there’s no pure thought behind it. 

You would be right. He does see you as the angelic good girl, a sweet angel. But even angels can fall. And just like Lucifer you will fall, he saw it in your eyes last night. He’s never seen that side of you but there’s no good girl when you look deep down. When you fall he’ll be there, ready to be your damnation.

He places a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Not too bad yourself.” He chuckles as he gets up. “I hope so. Had you cumming so hard around me last night.”  Rafe leaves the room to take a shower, leaving you gawking as he walks away. He really has some nerves, it's true, but still.

That was the last time he mentioned it.

After his shower, you took one yourself. You need to up the ante, he was all over you last night but this morning he couldn’t be bothered. When you were drying off  an idea popped into your head. You walk into your room with the towel wrapped around you. Rafe was laying on your bed scrolling through his phone. The phone almost slips from his hands. He was literally inside you last night yet here he is nervous seeing you in just a towel.

You walk to your dresser, opening the third drawer to get your bathing suit. The two of you are meeting Topper and Kelce to go on the boat so might as well put it on now. Rafe watches as you drop the towel, bending over to put your bottoms on. He follows every moment, examining as they glide up your legs and cover your pretty pussy. 

You turn around playing with the top, walking to the edge of the bed to show it to him. “Do you think this is a cute bikini or should I go with another one?” Rafe can’t focus on your words, your movements are causing your tits to bounce. But mostly he’s hyper focused on your nipples. 

Their fucking pierced.

How could he not notice that last night? The metal winks at him, his dick getting harder. “Earth to Ray.” His head snaps up to yours, eyes wide struck. “What?” You giggle, getting up on the bed to kneel in front of him. “Think I should go with this one?” Clearing his throat, Rafe sits up more on the bed. His phone leaves his hands so he can adjust himself.

“I like it. Wear it.” You tie the top strings around your neck, tying the bottom right after. One of the little triangles was skewed. Instinctively Rafe’s hand goes to fix it, fingers brushing against the swell of your breast. When it’s fixed his hand grazes your side. Finally you think. He’s going to finally make a move.

“Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs getting the food ready.” Then he’s off, rushing to the bathroom to get himself off before you’re done. With defeat written on your face you get ready and meet him downstairs. He’s standing by the door with the bags in his hands, you grab the keys and walk right past him. You lock the door as he loads the truck up. Even doing something so simple as that, he makes hot.

It’s not fair honestly. He doesn’t even try to get your turned on and you do. Yet no matter what you do he won’t give in. Rafe sees you stomp over to the car, getting in with a slam of the door. Once he gets into the driver’s seat you are buckled in and on your phone. “Want aux?”

He never asks you to be on aux. “Why?” He rolls his eyes at you, sucking his teeth. “Cause you’re obviously in a shitty mood. Trying to do something nice.” Is he serious right now? Your eyes narrow at him, looking forward to not see him. “I’m good.”

“Are you really going to be a brat right now?” It’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. “I’m fine Rafe. We need to hurry up, we’re already running late.” A glance at the dash clock would prove you right. The both of you are ten minutes late already and it takes fifteen to get there. He puts the truck in drive and is off, his eyes avert from the road to check on you and then back. 

Rafe knows one thing for sure about girls. When they say they’re fine it’s not true. It means they are mad and want you to know they are without them telling you. He can take a wild guess as to why you are mad and be correct. He just won’t talk about it.

The drive was silent. Usually you talk his ear off about music, some tv show, new hobbies, or random gossip. On a good day you would just talk for a little but mostly listen to music. Complete silence has never been an option until now. Rafe would look over every so often to just see you staring out the window, leaning your arm on it with your head on your forearm. 

“I’ll get the bags.” He couldn’t even finish his train of thought before you were out of the car. You were already settled on the boat when he got on. Chatting with Topper when you should be talking his ear off. He’s sad to admit that he misses it, misses the way your voice would fluctuate deepening on your emotion. He could always tell when you are really excited or sad just by your voice.

That day was mostly spent with you ignoring Rafe. Upset with him for just sleeping with you and not having the balls to own it. You would rather him say he regretted it then for him to ignore that it happened.

Day two had a boring day but eventful night. You had Topper drop you off using the excuse that he lives closest to you. Everyone knew that Rafe never minded bringing you home or driving you anywhere. In fact he always refused to let you drive, insisting that he can drive you. He wanted to argue but you had walked off already.

You had woken up at ten, not too late which is good. You went downstairs to go to the kitchen. Opening the fridge you get some eggs, green peppers, red onions, and bacon. You cook the bacon first as you cut up the peppers and onions. In a bowl you crack the eggs and mix everything together. When the bacon was done you cooked the eggs.

You did have any plans today, the only thing you wanted to do was eat and binge movies. Which is exactly what you did. The food was gone soon after you sat down. The plate still sits on the table, you would get to it later. You’re laid out on the couch, Twilight playing on the flat screen tv. You feel like Bella at this moment.

Waiting for Rafe to acknowledge what happened and what it means now. He just went back to acting like it was nothing. You had thought he cared enough to at least give you the respect to say he doesn’t want to continue. Uhhhhh the self spiral is not helping your situation. A buzz catches your attention, you see your phone screen light up. Picking it up you see that one of your friends had texted you.

Lily: Hey gorgeous! Want to come to the party Trev is throwing?

A party is just what you need. He’ll be there to sell and you know that. But if you stick with your friends you know it will help defuse the tension. He hasn’t texted you all day so you highly doubt he wants to talk.

You get ready, putting on a mini skirt and crop top that’s a little too small. If Rafe can’t man up to fuck you then maybe it’s time for someone else to do it. You arrive at the party with a group of your girl friends. It’s in full swing already, there are people on the lawn making a mess. Inside is littered with bodies of people, some are drinking, some dancing, and a lot of them making out. 

Every party is kind of the same. People drink or get high, there’s always at least one fight, and you can always count on the bedrooms being occupied. Your group makes their way to the kitchen where all the drinks were lined up. Looking around you can see bottles of vodka, tequila, and some dark liquor. You grab a cup and the tequila bottle and pour the liquid in. You find whatever juice they have and pour it in as well.

A hand wraps around your waist, the person's chest pressed to your back. You smile into the cup as you take a snip, ready to start flirting. “Hi angel.” The whispered words make you tense. Turning around you are face to face with Rafe. “Oh hey. What’s up.” the smile he had on drops when he realizes yours doesn’t match his. You always light up when you see him.

Topper and Kelce greet you and your friends as well. You try to talk to them but you keep focusing on the way Rafe’s hands are on you. Everyone had moved away from the drinks to another part of the kitchen. Rafe was leaning back on the counter and you were in front of him. His hands stayed on your waist the whole time, bringing you back to brush against him.

It was like he was torturing you with all the teasing. It continued when you all moved outside to have a smoke. Rafe made sure to find a place with less seating so you would have to sit on his lap. It worked in the end, he had you on top of him squirming around. Each movement only makes him harder. His hands skim your legs, slipping under your skirt and then back. 

Every tease of his hands makes you grind on him harder. If it were up to you he would bend you over right now and fuck the shit out of you. Clearly he doesn’t have the same plan. But you did enjoy when his groping got more intense when Mark started talking to you. He had seen you from where he was sitting and came over to pull you away.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in forever. How have you been?” Rafe glares at the guy, the hand on your thigh tightening as you respond. “Marky? Oh my god hey!” You tried to get up but Rafe wouldn’t let you. The whole conversion Rafe wouldn’t take his hands off of you. 

His arms wrap around you so his hands are resting on the exposed flesh of your abdomen. You try to not focus on the feeling of his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, going under. His fingertips slip under the cups of your bra, feeling the flesh of your breast. Mark’s eyes flicker to the movement and back to your eyes, a slight blush forming. You push his arms down, causing his hands to leave their mission. 

In the end Rafe got what he wanted, Mark left right after making an excuse of meeting friends. You were slightly pissed off at Rafe, you haven’t seen Mark in a while so it was nice to catch up. But on the other hand you were happy he was finally paying you attention. Even more happy when he kept feeling you up even after the boy had left.

Towards the end of the night you were so horny that you wanted to slip his cock out and just have him inside you again. You mostly just want to feel how big he is again, making you ache in the nicest way possible. Having enough of it you turn around to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t we find a room or leave?” Who cares if you are being too straightforward? You are over this waiting game.

Smirking, he looks into your eyes. “Can’t handle me teasing you?” You smile up at him, pecking his jaw lightly. “I know something else I really want to handle right now. Maybe you can teach me?” Your hips grind down on him to enhance your point. “Yeah? What do you want me to teach you?”

Maybe it’s the weed but you really don’t care that you are grinding on Rafe’s lap while he kisses your neck in the middle of a party. No one is honestly surprised, they didn’t think it would take the two of you this long. Rafe is sucking on the point beneath your ear that does you in. “How to suck you off.” You bite his ear lobe. “How to deep throat you without choking.”

Rafe lets out a moan that was almost too loud for a public setting. “Let’s go I’m taking you home.” You’re giddy as you get up, saying goodbye to your friends. Rafe on the other hand is scrambling to cover the little wet spot you had left on him from grinding. Your skirt had only given you the coverage of eyes being on you. 

You practically skip to the car thinking that you finally won. Whatever dumb game he was playing, you won. You beam as he opens the passenger door for you, helping you up into the truck. The same on the drive home when his hand is on your thigh, creeping closer to your skirt. Moaning When it goes under, fingers playing with you over your panties.

“Take them off.” He snaps the elastic against you. Without saying anything you slip them off, putting them in his pocket for safe keeping. The action made him smile to himself. His hand continues its assault on you. Circling your entrance to collect your wetness to bring it up to circle your clit. Your moaning continues as your drive down the streets. All of a sudden he pulls his hand away.

“What the fuck.” You yell. Your whole body flipping to look at him, arms flying up in the air. “You’re home.” You look out your window and sure enough, he’s right outside. “Are you going to come in?” He looks at the door and then at you, shaking his head he licks the fingers that were just touching you. “Nah we have that brunch tomorrow and it’s late.” You scoff at him. “When have you ever cared about family brunch?” 

Your parents and Ward plus Rose always had weekly brunch at the club. It was a family thing everyone had to tag along. Rafe always skipped or was late, dragging you along with him. But now suddenly he cares about them, yeah fuck that.

He shrugs. “You know what? You can fuck off Cameron.” You storm out the car and up the driveway. “Fucking asshole. Teasing the shit out of me then bailing out. Fucking pussy.” You say mostly to yourself, the words echoing down to his open window. He still waits until you go inside before leaving, seeing you flip him off. He laughs knowing that you are pissed at him, just like he wanted.

Day three, had you sitting through a boring lunch right across from the one person you are annoyed at. Normally when these lunches happen you and Rafe skip to get high or hang out. When you are here the two of you are at the end of the table talking to yourselves. But not today.

You decided to sit next to you mom, your dad on the other side of her. When the Cameron family came in, Ward sat directly in front of your dad while Rose did the same to your mom. Now usually Wheeze sits next to Rose but Rafe b lined her to the chair when he didn’t see you at the end. The families were confused on why the sitting had changed and more so why there was no talking. 

You ended up talking to Sarah and Wheszie while Rafe listened to the conversation. He tried to talk to you but you shut him out. You are giving him the same treatment, if he wanted to play games so could you. Only yours was the silent game.

There was nothing more that Rafe hated than being ignored. He felt it his whole life, yet never from you. This was like whiplash. You’ve been super mad at him before but you never shut him out. He doesn’t like the feeling but he knows he can get you mad enough to break. To finally cave and say something. 

He nudges your foot with his sneakers creasing your shoes. You kick his foot away from you, turning your body more towards Sarah.  The good thing about him being tall is that he can still reach you. This time he kicks your ankle. Your head snaps at him, your eyes shooting him a glare. He’s smiling as he waits for you to say something. Just when he thinks you will crack, the waiter saves you from it.

As everyone eats he keeps it going. Accidentally reaching for things that you are getting. If he sees you getting salt, so is he. Want more bread? Well look at that he suddenly wants some too. Each time causes your hands to collide. There’s a little twitch in your eyes, just at the corners. He knows you're a second away from yelling at him and making a scene so he takes it up one more notch. He lifts his leg up, skimming your inner thigh, finding his way under your dress.

The sound of your chair pushing back makes the table look at you. Rafe looks smug, expecting you to lose your cool now. Instead you take a deep breath. “Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” Everyone starts to ask what is up with you. “Is she okay? You two haven’t been talking?” Your mom asks. “Yeah she said she wasn’t feeling too good earlier. I should probably make sure she’s okay.”

The table shares glances as Rafe walks off after you. “Does anyone else think that’s kinda weird? Like something is definitely going on.” Wheezie questions. “Wheeze knock it off. I’m sure it's fine.” Ward says, going back to his conversation with your father. “It’s suspicious.” she whispers as she takes a bite.

Rafe’s footsteps echo in the hallway behind you. He ignores all the stares that people are giving him as he rushes to catch up. “Hey.” you ignore him and walk into the women's bathroom. He stands outside the door for a second, looking around to make sure the coast is clear. The door slams open, scarring you as Rafe checks the stalls.

“What the fuck Rafe!” You try to walk out but he blocks you, locking the door. “What’s wrong angel?” He teases. The bathroom lights are dimly highlighting his eyes. Yellow specks float in the sea of blue. “Move out of my way Cameron.” It's laughable how cute you are trying to put your foot down. “You’ve been a brat all brunch.” You can't argue as he pushes you back to the sinks and lifts you on it.

“What are you doing?” You ask as Rafe sinks to his knees, his head disappearing under your skirt. He places a kiss on your clothed clit, pulling your panties to the side so he could give you a lick. “Fucking delicious.” The tiled walls bounce your moans around like an echo chamber. You struggle to keep yourself up right on the sink. Your back hitting the mirror as you slump down. 

Rafe is holding you up by your thighs, placing them on his shoulders to keep you there. His mouth devours you as if he was still hungry. Like the food he was just eating didn’t sedate his hunger. Light hits his eyes again as you unfold your skirt, your hand finding his head. He hums into you, shaking his head from side to side. “I’m close.”

His movements get faster and when you are right at the edge he pulls away. Your eyes shoot open to look at him, following as he gets up and licks his lips. Grabbing paper towels, wetting them to clean your up. He helps you off the sink, fixing your panties and skirt. “I’ll tell them you’re okay and need another minute. See you out there.” 

The rest of brunch you were tense. So upset that he denied you a orgasim like that or the fact that he keeps messing with you. When you get home you are radiating with anger, wanting to explode. You so badly want to call him to yell or cuss him out over text but you don’t. If ignoring him got you that then it could get you more.

Day four

An insistent ringing wakes you up from your sleep. Fumbling around you feel for your phone and blindly answer it. “Hello?” You throw your blanket over your head to block out the light coming in from the window. “Are you still sleeping? Come on, get ready, I'll be there shortly.” You pull the phone away to see that it's almost 10:30 and that it’s Rafe who called you. “Why would I be getting ready?” He huffs over the phone. 

“Because I’m picking you up. Barry got some new weed and coke.” See you were ready to tell him to fuck off but he got you with free drugs. They usually let you test out what they buy before selling it. It’s great having friends that deal sometimes, especially when Rafe never let you pay. “Fine.” You hang up on him to get ready.

When he had texted you he was there you raced out the house and into his truck. Completely blocking him from opening the door for you like he normally does. Rafe just closes the door and gets back in. “Hey angel.” His hands go for your thigh but you move your legs away to face the door. “Hey.”

The ride to Barry’s was awkward to say the least.  Rafe tries to start conversations with you but you won’t say a thing. Texting your friends on your phone instead of having to talk to him. It was so awkward that even Barry noticed it when you came into the house. You had walked in and sat on the couch picking up the blunt that was already rolled on the table. Rafe lagging along like a lost puppy following its owner.

“Want any of the good stuff sweetheart?” Barry asks you while waving a baggie of coke in your face. Taking a puff from the blunt you shake your head, passing it to Rafe. “No, I'm good.” You giggle. You know Barry isn’t that bad, maybe he could help you out. The boys watch you as you get up and sit next to Barry.

He smirks at Rafe, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Now why is a pretty girl like you always around men like us? Like pretending you aren’t a good girl?” You giggle at him, legs going into his lap. “Maybe I’m not as good as people think.” Barry likes the way your eyelashes are fluttering at him. 

Rafe is watching the two of you like a hawk, as Barry’s hands touch your exposed legs. His phone rings and he disconnected himself from you to answer it. When he’s out of the room Rafe’s eyes meet yours. “What are you doing?”  A cheshire smile spreads on your lips. “Me?”

“Yeah you. Who else would I be talking to?” You shift back to the couch next to him, taking the blunt in his hands. “Just talking to B is there something wrong with that?” Too headstrong, Rafe doesn’t back down. “I don’t know, is there? You seem to be the one with the issues.” Your smile drops and you take another puff. “Well maybe if you would stop being such a pussy I wouldn’t have to flirt with him.” 

There it is

“So this is about me not fucking you?”  He looks so cocky sitting there, lounging back on the couch. “Should have just said something baby. Wouldn’t want to leave me little angel suffering.” You are about to start yelling at him to wipe that look off his face but Barry walks in. “Aight I have to go deal with something. I’ll be back soon, don't take all that shit.” He’s out the door without looking back

The crunch of tires from a motorcycle can be heard from inside the house. Signaling that Barry was gone. “You have to be kidding! I’ve been trying ti fuck you since we woke up the next day. You were the one you wouldn’t.” You shout at him. He just shrugs which pisses you off even more. Getting up you stand in front of him, invading his space.

He leans forward only for you to push him back, crawling into his lap to get up close. “Fucking pussy.” Your lips crash to his, hands gripping his shirt to keep him still. This is exactly where he wanted you. So riled up that you’ll just take what you want. All your life he has seen you sit back and just let people walk all over you. Letting them decide what’s best for you, he wants you to take that step.

Your hips are grinding down on him, his dick getting hard from the friction. “Is it clear now? I want you to fuck me.” He gives you another kiss. “Then go for it.” Automatically you take off his shirt, yours flying along with it. Your lips travel down his body, kissing every inch of his skin. The pressure in his pants relieves when you unbutton his pants, taking them down.

Rafe keeps his mouth shut, afraid if he spoke it would ruin the moment. A moan leaves him when you use your teeth to pull his boxers down. Giving his dick kisses up and down. Licking from the base up. The feeling is amazing. Having your mouth on him was a different feeling. Sure he’s had sex but they never meant anything, you did.

You bob your head a few more times and then get up, stripping your shirts and panties. His hands find your thigh as you get back on him. “You’re perfect.” Crystal blue eyes meet yours, conveying a secret message. “Shut up.” You sink down on him, his length filling you up once again.

You bounce on his dick, leaning back with your hands on his knees to hold you up. The once quiet house is filled with your moans. You’ve been so pent up that you are ready to cum already. “Touch me.” His fingers find your clit, rubbing in fast circles. You aren’t the only one who’s pent up. Rafe’s been teasing himself just as much as he has with you. 

His other hand helps facilitate your movements, slamming you on him. “That’s it angel. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your body spasms with your orgasim, shaking over Rafe. The lull of your hips alerts Rafe that you can’t do this much longer. Your energy pulled out of you. He wraps his arms around you, lifting up from the couch. He’s still inside you as he drapes your body over the edge of the couch. 

You are on your back, hips elevated as he stands between your legs. His hips snap into yours, ramming your g-spot with every thrust. Each of your moans sent him into overdrive, wanting to cum but desperately needed you to do so again. His thumb goes back to your clit and he leans over to suck one of your nipples. The triple stimulation does wonders, sending you over the edge once again.

Rafe’s hips keep thrusting, chasing his own release. A few minutes later he was done for. Hips slamming and shuttering into yours, filling you up. He plugs you, not wanting a single drop to go to waste. He pushes some hair off of your face, looking into your eyes and kissing you deep. “I wanted to fuck you too. Just wanted to play with you first.” You open your mouth to say something but a voice makes you stop. “On my fucking couch. The two of you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Rafe couldn’t even care that you two were caught. He finally got you to break, to give in to what you want. His perfect little angel finally fell, not realizing that he’ll drag you down further. 

[keeksandgigz]

ugh maybe something angsty to fluffy with eddie , like nightmares or a silly argument turned too big leaving both in tears but then resolved

idk baby ugh i love ur writing tho !

aww stop i love u <3

this is literally my first ask ever im so excited!! hope u enjoy :)))

He knows better than to fall asleep.

The world lays still around him, the sound of lone crickets plays as his lullaby while he stares at his banged up ceiling.

Everytime he closes his eyes he feels like he's suffocating, still in the stuffy, dusty and slimy Upside Down, the blood at his throat almost choking him to death.

It's his first night alone back home. Him and Wayne had been cleared to go back earlier that September morning after spending a whole summer in a cramped infirmary on a small cot that made his feet stick out.

Noises of people snoring, talking, moving around. Even people crying and screaming in their sleep. You sleeping in the cot right next to him.

Your shoulders rising and falling. On nights where he couldn't sleep he'd count every breath you took, until his brain grew tired and fell victim to slumber.

But tonight there was just eerie quiet. No breaths to count except his own, shallow and irregular in his chest, as he tried not to focus too much on the way the skin of his naked chest stretched taut by the stitches given to him felt under his hand, casually resting there.

The faint white and red splotches of mangled skin felt funny under the touch of his hands. Even then, he tried to not touch them. He didn't like the way his body would retract from his own touch. Almost as if he was scared of himself.

He hadn't let you see them yet, everytime you hung out and reveled in each other's company never went further than a few risky kisses. Your hands traveling to the hem of his shirt being abruptly stopped by his fingers intertwined in yours, moving away from his waist.

It was silent, the way you understood his limits. He'd never let you know he wasn't comfortable, and you could not have possibly known what lied under the too- big shirt he'd taken from the donation box.

Tonight, though, he finds himself missing counting your breaths, imagining you back at home in the comfort of your bed. Are you awake too?

Sick and tired of thinking, closing his eyes only to see monsters behind his lids, the feeling of the crumpled, rough sheets under his back, he gets up. He slips a shirt on, along with a pair of pants and fishes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pockets of his jacket, perched carelessly on the chair.

He heads to the front porch. He closes the front door behind him, trying to keep quiet. Wayne's at work, but the habit of tiptoeing and whispering around after months of living in a communal space still stuck with him.

He sits on the stairs of his porch, letting the cigarette between his lips as he fights with the yellow lighter his dad had given him to start a spark.

"Fuck" he curses under his breath as the lighter proceeds to not produce a light. His breathing becomes uneven as his cheeks flush with anger. Frustrated, he tosses the lighter in the patch of grass in front of him. Useless fucking thing.

He doesn't even know why he still has it. The last time he'd seen his dad was over two years before. He'd never gone that long without a visit.

He's tempted to go in the kitchen and light up his cigarette with the stove, but Wayne didn't like him smoking inside. Instead he just sits there, unlit cigarette between his lips as he looks at a certain spot in the trailer park.

The same spot he'd almost died at.

He's so entranced by that one patch of dirt that he doesn't notice a car driving into the trailer park. His eyes diverting only when the headlights almost turn him blind.

It's you.

The car turns off and you come out of it, dressed in some cute pyjamas, a jacket that once belonged to Eddie covering you from the late September gale.

"Can't sleep either?" you say, staring at his dumbfounded face as you approach him on the wooden porch stairs.

"Too quiet. Missin' the old man who talked about cake in his sleep" he lets out a breathy laugh.

"My bed was too comfortable. My back is too fucked up from the cot, can't sleep on a soft mattress anymore. Missed having a bed next to yours, Munson" you nudge him, he just gives you a tight- lipped smile.

"Missed watching you breathe" he says, cautiously "Helped me sleep at night. I'd count every breath you took"

"Having any nightmares?" you ask, placing your head on his shoulder.

"Can't have nightmares if I'm awake. Everytime I close my eyes it's like I'm back in there, so I just.... don't sleep" he says, playing with the still unlit cigarette in his mouth.

The air is light between you two, an air of friendship, unweighted by your knowledge of what happened to him. You bring him relief, solace.

"Tell you what" you begin "you can light that cigarette with my car lighter, we split it, and then we go back inside and you can watch me breathe. So you can sleep" you blink up at him. He blinks at you back.

You offering to sleep with him in his bed wasn't something he'd have expected out of his life. Especially at this time of it.

All he does is nod as you take the cigarette from his lips and light it in your car, coming back with it already between your lips.

You're warm when you settle yourself next to him on the bed, under the rough blankets. The pillows smell like him. You inhale.

He doesn't know whether to hold you or leave you alone. He just opts to be a little closer to you as he lets you close your eyes. A weak "G'night, Munson" escapes you as you exhale and close your eyes.

He watches the silhouette of your shoulders rise and fall.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven...

He falls asleep before he can get to fifty.

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Chapter 18

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warning: bit of angst, fluff, GOATS!!!!

A/N: I wish I could have this out sooner but work has been kicking my ass lately. Anyways I hope you like this chapter I have maybe one or two chapters planned of them being in Wakanda!

Series masterlist

Ch 17

As soon as the alarm went off you were on your feet and rummaging through everyone’s luggage. You had overpacked for a reason. Although you knew the main purpose of this trip was to help Henry, you knew there was a chance that people that Bucky had interacted with would want to see him again. It was important to you that they see he was doing well and was being taken care of. That the chance they had taken on Bucky hadn’t been a waste.

Bucky on the other hand seemed un-bothered that he was going to have dinner with the Queen mother of Wakanda. It was as if he always came to the palace to have Sunday dinner or something.

“Sugar,” Bucky caught you by the waist as you walked back towards the kid’s room. “Why are you freaking out? It’s just dinner.”

“With a literal Queen, James. I want us to look presentable.”

“We will. You practically packed their whole closet but this isn’t some huge feast or something. It will most likely just be Queen Ramonda, Shuri and T’Challa. Maybe Nakia if she isn’t on a mission. There’s nothing to worry about, it’s just a small dinner.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek before calling Henry and ushering him to the bathroom so that he could shower.

“It’s just a small dinner.” You mutter to yourself as you turn your attention toward Lottie who was turning the pages of her favorite picture book about animals.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had been so wrong. There were a few leaders of the other tribes already waiting. You were glad you insisted on dressing up a bit considering everyone in the room looked amazing. They wore the colors representing their tribes and they all looked regal. You and Bucky were dressed both in black, while Lottie wore a dress and Henry wore a button up with a sweater on top and jeans. They looked adorable as they walked hand in hand.

Charlotte of course being the most outgoing was waving at anyone that would look in her direction. Bucky introduced you to a few of the tribe leaders as you all awaited the arrival of the royal family.

“So it’s true what I’ve heard. The white wolf has found a pack of his own.” You turned to see one of the younger men in the room walk towards you and Bucky. He was tall and broad, he wore furs and looked very intimidating.

“M’Baku, it’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you back, although I wish it were under better circumstances. Now, who is this?” He smiles in your direction and he doesn’t look as intimidating as before.

“This is Y/N. She’s an Avenger, my girlfriend and the mother of my children.” Bucky said as his hand rested on your hip.

“Pleasure to meet you M’Baku.”

“No no, the pleasure is all mine.” He winks in your direction causing you to smile. “I hope you enjoy Wakanda. Just let me know if you would like a tour.”

“Ok, stop flirting with my girl.”

“I wasn’t flirting, I was just being a good host.” He laughs at Bucky’s unamused expression and you can’t help but join in.

The doors open and in walks T’Challa, Shuri and Ramonda. The Dora Milaje right behind them. When Lottie sees the red uniforms and spears she turns to you and Bucky and points at the group with excitement. Bucky picked her up while Henry moved to stand beside you just as Ramonda approached.

“James.”

“Queen Ramonda.”

“You must be Y/N. I’ve heard many great things already. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She smiles at both of you.

���The pleasure is all mine.”

“And who is this little one?” Her face lights up as she looks at Charlotte.

“This is our daughter Charlotte and this is our son Henry.” Bucky explains with some pride at being able to show his family off.

“Hello Charlotte, how are you?”

“Good.” Lottie responds softly and a bit shy, which is completely opposite of how she entered the room just a few minutes before.

“And how are you Henry?”

“I’m ok.” He says partially hidden behind you.

“Well I know that you are here so that Shuri can help you but I hope your baba takes you out to explore too. Would you like that?”

Henry nods.

“Good, I’m sure you’ll have fun. Now why don’t we sit down?” She says before leading you into a dining room.

The room was large with huge windows that allowed a perfect view of the sunset and of Wakanda. A long table sat in the middle. Ramonda led you to the end of the table you’d be sharing with her and Shuri while T’Challa sat at the head on the other end with the rest of the tribe’s leaders. Bucky sat Lottie next to him and Henry sat between you and Lottie.

****

By the end of the meal you have heard so many embarrassing stories about T’Challa from Shuri. Your mascara was probably ruined from your tears due to laughter. Henry now sat next to Shuri as they made up a handshake of their own. Lottie sat in Ramonda’s lap giggling at whatever Ramonda was doing. Bucky just smiled at the scene and you moved closer to him.

“What’s the smile for?”

“I was just thinking that if we were back in the 40s this is how it would be with my ma and my sisters. They would love the kids and you.” He has that look you’ve seen so many times, it’s a look of yearning for his family.

“I’m sure they’d be very proud of what a great father you are.”

Bucky smiles at you and places a kiss at your temple. Henry tugs at his arm and Bucky leans down to hear Henry whisper something in his ear. He excused himself and Henry and you are left with Shuri, Ramonda and Lottie.

“So tell me Y/N, how is motherhood treating you?” Ramonda asked.

“It’s been a big adjustment. Most of the time I’m afraid I’ll mess up and they’ll be scared of me or hate me. But I love them so much, I can’t imagine my life without them.”

“That is normal. I messed up many times while my children were little.”

“All of those stories of T’Challa are proof.” Shuri chimes in, making you snicker.

“The most important thing is that you tell them and show them how much they are loved. I’m very sure they love you too, isn’t that right Charlotte?”

“Yeah.” She said looking from Ramonda to you with a big smile. “Lobe mama.”

“I love you too.”

Charlotte giggles and stretches her arms out for you to pick her up. You kiss her cheek once she’s in your grasp and then you feel it. She tenses and she has that far away look in her eyes.

“Shit,” you start patting her back once you realize she isn’t breathing. “Come on baby, breathe for me.”

Shuri is up and out of her seat so quickly that it gathers the attention of the others in the room and Bucky who was walking back in. He quickly walks over with Henry as Shuri grabs one of the beads from her bracelet and starts a scan to figure out what’s going on.

“How long has she been like this?” Bucky asks as he takes Lottie from you and sits her on his lap. He starts to rub circles on her chest to try and get her to breathe.

“Just a few seconds.”

Lottie inhales sharply and Bucky prepares to run out since she usually cries after a vision. This time however she just has a scowl on her face.

“Lottie what’s wrong?”

“Steebie.”

“Does uncle Steve have an owie?”

“No, don’t wike it.” She says as she glared up at you and Bucky. Her little hands balled up into fists. “Bad Steebie.”

Bucky looks over at you as you both struggle to suppress laughter. When Charlotte has visions she either smiles or cries but never have you seen her get angry before. It’s somehow even funnier that the person that has made her mad is her precious uncle Steeb.

“Does that happen often?” Shuri asks as she stands beside you.

“The vision thing or the breathing thing?”

“Both.”

“The visions are unpredictable and so is the not breathing part. But she tends to hold her breath when the vision is very intense or upsetting. There have been other visions that don’t affect her this way.”

Shuri nodded while deep in thought as she processed what Bucky had said.

“Bring her to my lab tomorrow morning along with Henry. I’d like to run some tests if that’s ok with you.”

“Of course we’ll be there bright and early.”

“Good, I will see you all tomorrow.” She excuses herself and leaves.

“You deal with that every day?” Ramonda, who had been silently watching the whole thing, asked.

“Yes, it’s very unpredictable. Most visions aren’t as intense but when they are it’s scary.”

“One time the vision lasted so long and she wasn’t breathing that her lips started to turn blue.” Bucky adds. “Usually holding her close helps her not get lost in what she sees. And this is the first time she is able to somewhat communicate what her vision was about.”

“And Steebie is?”

“Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, the Captain.” Ramonda smiles. “Children are so precious at this age.” She looks fondly at Henry and Charlotte. The former gently caresses his sister’s cheek as he checks over her. Charlotte rests her head against Bucky and yawns.

“I think it’s best we call it a night. She’s going to sleep the rest of the night.”

You excuse yourself and head out of the dining room. Bucky holds on to a sleeping Lottie and you hold on to Henry.

“Is everything alright mother?” T’Challa asked.

“Yes, the little one just had a vision.”

A look of understanding crosses T’Challa’s face and he looks at his mother. He furrows his brows at her expression.

“Are you alright mother?”

“Yes, I was just imagining what this place would be like if I had grandchildren running around. I guess I must make the most of Henry and Charlotte while they are here.”

“Mother please let’s not start this again.” T’Challa pleads.

“I won’t say anything else. But I am not getting any younger.”

“Mother.”

She looks up at him and laughs. “Fine I will not bring it up again. For tonight at least. Have a good night my dear son.”

“Good night Mother.”

The next morning bright and early the four of you were in Shuri’s lab. Henry walked toward a display of gadgets that were being worked on by a lab assistant. You, Bucky and Lottie stood to the side waiting for the young genius to walk over to you.

When she was ready Shuri waved you over to a table at the center of the room. For privacy most of the lab assistants left so it was just the five of you.

“Alright let’s start with Charlotte.” Shuri patted the table and turned to grab som equipment.

“Just so you know she may not like this.”

“It’s ok, we will figure it out.”

You looked at Bucky and picked Lottie up. As soon as you sat her down on the table she gripped your shirt with such strength that she almost ripped it.

“Mama don’t wike, pwease. Don’t wike it.” Lottie immediately got teary eyed which in turn made you teary eyed. “No mama. Dada pwease.”

“Doll It’s ok, we aren’t leaving you. Mama and I are right here.”

Shuri walked back over and stood beside you. She held something that looked like a sleek version of a price gun in her hand.

“Look Lottie,” she placed it just behind your ear, near your hairline and pressed the trigger. There was no pain whatsoever and you wondered what she did. Then she moved to the other side and did the same thing. “See, it doesn't hurt.”

Lottie let go of your shirt and blinked away the tears as she looked up at Shuri.

“No owies?”

“No owies, little one.” Shuri smiled. “Here you try.” She walked around the table and motioned for Bucky to move closer. Shuri took Lottie’s hand and placed the gun into it while guiding her to her father’s forehead. It clicked and stuck something to Bucky’s head making Charlotte giggle. “Now you, ok?”

“Ok.”

Charlotte sat still as Shuri did what she needed. There were two small squares stickers placed on her head both behind her ears.

“I want to get some readings first. These will not come off even if she tries to peel them or with water or sweat. Only I can take them off.” Shuri explained as she grabbed a small tool similar to a pen and held it up to Bucky’s forehead, pulling the small square away with ease and then she did the same with yours. “We’ll keep them on for a couple of days, hopefully she will have a vision and we can see how her brain reacts.”

“That would be amazing. We haven’t been able to perform any tests on her.”

Shuri nodded in understanding. “You should be good for now. If anything happens, bring her back. Henry's first treatment will take about three hours.”

“Ok, we’ll see you back in the room.”

You turn to find Henry and see him by the table he was at before. With open arms you kneel in front of him and give him a hug.

“Listen sweetheart, no one is here to hurt you ok? Your dad is going to stay with you all the time and I’m going to be with Lottie. I’ll see you in a little bit ok?”

“Will you cuddle with me later?”

“Absolutely.” You smile and kiss the top of his head before standing up.

“Ok, come on Lottie.”

You stick out your hand in order for her to take it but she doesn’t. When you look down her arms are crossed over her chest and she has a pout. She was upset with you and you hid your smile behind your hand because she looked so cute. You waved goodbye to Shuri and Bucky and ushered Lottie out.

You sat in the garden of the palace with a book in hand while Lottie walked around and looked at all the plants. She was unusually quiet which let you know she was still upset. Every so often you’d look over the book to see where she was at. Little by little she got closer to you until you looked over and she was standing in front of you. Her pout was still present. After placing the bookmark in its place and setting the book aside you look at Lottie as she stares up at you.

“Can mama pick you up?” She nods and lifts her arms for you to grab her and sit her on your lap.

You weren’t sure how to have this conversation with her and how much of it she would understand but it was important to teach her about communication.

“Are you mad my sweet Angel?”

“Don’t wike it mama. Don’t wike owies.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“I know, baby. I don’t like it when you get hurt either. Mama and daddy would never hurt you like that, we just want to make sure you don’t have other owies we can’t see.”

“No habe owies.” She extends her arms so that you can see that there are no cuts or bruises on her.

“You’re right. But mama and daddy want to make sure. We want you to be happy and healthy so we can watch you grow up and be a big girl.”

“Mama,” She said as she put her hands on her chest, looking almost offended that you didn’t know. “Am big.”

You laugh before kissing the top of her head.

“Is that right? You’re a big girl?”

She nods and grins at you.

“Well then you gotta stop growing so fast.” You said as you tickled her. She giggled and tried to get off your lap. “I love you so much my sweet Angel.”

“Lobe you, mama.”

You pull your phone out after giving Lottie another hug to find a message from Bucky saying they finished a bit early. With a quick reply you tell him you’ll be in the room in a few minutes. You put Lottie on your hip and grab your book with the other and head back to the rooms you’ve staying in.

You can hear Henry crying the closer you get to the room and it’s heartbreaking. Even Charlotte looks worried as you walk in. Bucky immediately takes Charlotte from you.

“He doesn’t want anyone near him except for you. ” He says in a rushed tone and you rush into the adjoining room.

The minute you walk into the room Henry runs towards you. His face is red, cheeks are tear stained and his eyes are red and puffy. You manage to open your arms and catch him just before he knocks you down.

“Oh my sweet boy, it’s ok.” You say while rubbing his back hoping it will sooth him. “Just let it out baby.”

After kneeling there for a moment you get up and lift Henry up with you. He’s still sniffling and hiding his face in your chest so you get comfortable on the bed. You hummed a lullaby while playing with his hair only stopping when he fell asleep. Henry’s grip on your shirt is tight though so you stay in the same position and let him rest. Bucky pokes his head in with a sleepy Charlotte in his arms. He mirrors your position on the bed and lets Lottie rest against his chest. You both stay like that for a while so that the kids can get their sleep. Bucky hasn’t said what he had planned for the afternoon except that you’d be out of the palace.

Once the kids were awake and changed into more comfortable clothes you left. Bucky’s excitement was palpable as he led you away from the palace. Lottie matched his eagerness to get out and begin to explore. Henry on the other hand stayed closer to you at all times, he was withdrawn from everything going on around him and instead kept his head down.

The first stop was the small farm Bucky was living at when he stayed in Wakanda. It was far away from the palace and near a lake. Bucky grabbed a blanket he had packed and placed it on the grass near the lake. He had promised to pack everything while you comforted Henry and he did just that. After he set everything up you sat down and Henry made himself comfortable on your lap while Lottie kept Bucky busy by running around and playing close to the water’s edge.

“Are you ok sweet boy?”

“I don’t know.” He said quietly while he watched his sister and dad play. “What happens if we can’t get the words out?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Shuri can’t make me stop being bad, are you gonna stop being my mama, and is daddy not gonna be my daddy anymore?”

You scooped him up and turned him around so that you could look him directly in his eyes. There was so much fear in his eyes and he started going back and forth between transparent and visible. Your hands cup his face gently and you tilt his head up so that he’ll look at you.

“Henry I want you to really listen to me ok. You are not bad, the bad men made you do things you didn’t want to do. I know it’s going to take some time for you to understand that and that’s ok, we’ll work on it together. Now, your dad and I are always going to be on your side. No one in the whole world can make us stop being your parents. We love you so much and we’re always going to take care of you. Do you understand that?”

By the time you’d finished Henry was crying softly again. Bucky had walked over and sat down next to both of you after having heard Henry’s question.

“Hey bubs, c’mere.” Bucky pulled Henry into his own lap and looked over at you, silently asking you for some time alone with his son.

You smiled at him and got up in order to run around with Charlotte.

“I know this is a scary feeling. Not knowing if what Shuri is doing will work. But I promise it will because it worked on me. We just have to give them a little bit of time.”

“I’m scared daddy,” Henry hugged Bucky. “I don’t wanna hurt mama again and I don’t want to hurt baby or you.” He cried into Bucky’s chest but Bucky pulled him back.

“Let’s make a deal ok? I promise that I am going to be there with you the whole time and I’ll keep mama and Lottie safe until the bad words can’t hurt you anymore. What do you say?” Henry nodded and leaned into Bucky again.

They stayed like that for a while as you played with Lottie. You were looking over at Bucky, smiling in his direction when Lottie let out what could only be described as a scream mixed with a squeal of excitement as a small herd of goats walked in your direction.

“Mama, goats.” She said excitedly as she shifted her weight from side to side.

“I see that, let’s go see them.”

She ran toward Bucky and Henry first and tugged on her brother’s hand. He hesitated for a moment but followed her as she led him to the herd. Lottie was usually a happy child but you had never seen her this excited or happy before. Ever since the petting zoo she had loved goats. You teased Bucky saying it was another trait she got from him.

The goat herder recognized Bucky and they started to talk while the herd ran around the field. Lottie was a giggling mess when one of the smaller goats butted her in the belly playfully causing her to fall. When Henry bent down to pick her up the same goat tried to climb his back. He started giggling too and you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Fortunately you had started recording everything as soon as Lottie screamed, so you’d be able to watch it as many times as you liked. You knew the team would love to see this too.

“Mama,” your sweet Angel called between fits of laughter. “Mama look.” She said even though you were watching her trying to mimic a goat's bleat. Henry soon joined her and you had a feeling they would be doing that for a long time after you got back to the palace.

“They’re probably going to lose their mind over this.” Bucky says as he stands beside you. He held the smallest goats you’d ever seen. “These two were born recently and need names and he’s letting us do it.”

You grinned in his direction.

“I bet I already know the names they’ll choose.”

“Me too.” Bucky chuckled as he walked towards the kids who were petting some of the goats. “Hey bubs, doll C’mere.” He said as he crouched down. Once the kids were in front of him Lottie awed at the goats he was holding. “Sit down so you can hold them. These babies need names. How about you each give them a name.”

You were sure Charlotte’s cheeks were going to hurt from how big she was smiling. She sat down quickly and opened her arms to allow Bucky to set one of the goats down and Henry did the same.

“Ok, you have to think about the name you have to give them.”

“Steebie.” Lottie said quickly as her hand gently patted the goats head. “This baby Steebie.”

“What about this one Henry?”

He looked down at the goat in his lap with a very serious expression before speaking up. “This is Sammie. Like Uncle Sam.” He gave you both a small smile when he looked back up.

“Those are great names. Steebie and Sammie.”

“No mama, baby Steebie.” Lottie corrected you.

“Oh ok, baby Steebie and Sammie.”

Bucky chuckled as he got up and went to speak with the goat herder. You sat down with the kids and ended the recording.

“Feeling a bit better bubs?”

“A little.” Henry replies.

“You know your dad took care of goats after Shuri helped him. Maybe we could get a pet when we get back home.”

“Can habe goat mama?” Lottie asked.

“I don’t know sweet Angel. Maybe something smaller like a dog or a cat. We don’t have space in the apartment for a goat.”

“I like cats better.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the black panther now does it?” You raise a brow.

“Maybe.” He smiled sheepishly.

“We’ll talk about it more when we get back home. For right now let’s play with these guys, what do you say?”

Both kids got up and started running around, giggling as they were followed by the herd. Bucky’s arms pulled you against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“It’s going to get harder isn’t it?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah, he’s going to remember everything they had him do but in the end he’ll be free. He’s scared that he’ll hurt you again or that he’ll hurt Charlotte. I told him I’d protect you both.”

“I’m proud of you. You’re such a good dad.” You say as you turn to look up at him.

“I’m only giving him what I wished I had while I was going through this too. I was alone during most of it and I was terrified most of the time.”

“We’ll never let Henry feel like that.” You reach up and caress his cheek.

Bucky agreed as you watched both kids playing without a care in the world they way it should always be for them. Henry looks at you and smiles before waving you over. Happily you and Bucky join your kids and stay in the small peaceful corner of Wakanda until the sun starts setting. By then Henry and Lottie are exhausted and you make it to the palace before they can fall asleep.

After quick showers and getting dressed in comfy pajamas you all lay down in the kids rooms as they sleepily talk about goats. Once they’re fast asleep Bucky quietly leads you to the adjoining room and pulls you into bed with him. As Bucky absentmindedly runs his hand up and down your arm, you push away the worries of what the next few days or weeks would bring and enjoy the peace of the moment.

Ch 19

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[riitah]

[to be a sorcerer] - geto suguru x gn!reader

WARNINGS: hidden inventory arc spoilers, mentions of death, blood, guns, fighting, and implied starvation, a little cursing SYNOPSIS: ever since the day suguru and satoru came back from their mission to retrieve the girl who was to merge with tengen, suguru has been kind of…off. so tonight, you decide to go visit him in the middle of the night in hopes of getting some answers, or, at least, bringing him some comfort. WORD COUNT: 1.1k HONORABLE MENTION: tysm beta reader “henry rumpelstiltskin III of the nuclear sock kingdom”!! AUTHOR’S NOTE: guys i’m so sorry i haven’t updated in so long writer’s block has been ERYGIUHOJWQEHRUR i hope you guys enjoy this AND OH YEAH THE NEW S2 TRAILER CAME OUT I’M LIKE SO HYPED FOR IT i literally had a whole pre-written s2 first trailer (a/n) i wanted to post but that was way too long ago but anyways here’s a geto x reader story i have sm more BUT IDK HOW TO WRITE THEM including crying scenes FUCK yk i feel like geto’s the type of guy who’d comfort people when they’re crying but never let anyone see him cry but when he cries it’s just really messy and emotionfull you get what i’m saying?? like he holds in his feelings for so long it just comes out all at once and ok i’ll stop now sorry if this feels a little too ooc

You stood in front of Suguru’s door in your pajamas, wondering if this was a good idea.

Is he already asleep…?

You turned to go back to your own room, but upon remembering the few bites he had taken of his lunch the past week, you decided against it. Hesitantly, you knocked, the sound of your knuckles against the wood echoing through the hallways. “Suguru? Can I come in?”

A beat of silence. “One second.” The sound of a bed creaking followed his voice, and just a few moments later, the door opened with a small creak.

Unfortunately, the sight of your boyfriend didn’t make you feel any more relieved. His hair framed his face messily, but they didn’t cover up the dark circles or hide the hollowness of his cheeks. The corners of his lips curved upwards when he saw you, but the smile never reached his eyes.

“(Y/N).” He stepped aside to let you in. “Staying up so late isn’t good for you, you know?”

“I could say the same about you.” You stepped into his dorm and he closed the door behind him. “It’s 2AM, and you have to go on a mission in a few hours.”

“I didn’t feel too sleepy.” He offered you his hand, and you took it, your eyebrows knitting together when you realized just how bony it felt. “And the rain wasn’t helping much. But now that you’re here, it’s a different story.” He led you to his bed and lied down, pulling you onto his chest in the process.

“Suguru! Warn me before you do that next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, because I‘m not letting go of you.” He rolled over so that the two of you were lying on your sides, wrapping his arms around you. “Ever.”

“I think you’re hanging around Satoru too much. You’re speaking and acting like him.” You laughed when he made a face at that statement.

“Don’t compare me to that guy.”

“Just ‘that guy’? He’d be so hurt if he heard you say that.”

“You know what I mean.” He pinched your cheek and gently rested his forehead against yours. “So, did you need something?”

“What, I can’t come visit my own boyfriend without a reason anymore?”

“Not when it’s two in the morning. But I might reconsider if you’re planning to stay the night.”

“Will that make you feel better?”

“Definitely. Though I feel just fine.”

“You don’t look fine…”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, pulling you closer to him and planting a brief kiss on your nose. “Really.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You haven’t been getting much sleep, have you?”

He stared at you for a few moments, and the pitter-patter of the rain filled in the silence that had fallen over the conversation.

“...”

“Suguru…”

He then let out a tired sigh, his arms tightening around your waist just slightly. “You’re right. I haven’t.”

You brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I just…can’t. Whenever I close my eyes, I see her.”

You took note of his heartbeat, which was rapidly speeding up. "Riko?"

He nodded and paused, trying to regain his composure before opening his mouth to speak again. “It's all still so vivid in my head. I can still hear the gun going off and��"

"You don't have to talk about it if it's painful, Suguru," you whispered softly.

He shook his head, giving you a weak smile. "No, I think it's better this way. I feel like I'm being suffocated." There was a slight tremble to his voice as he spoke, his sentences laced with nothing but regret. "When I do fall asleep, I always dream about the same thing. She dies, he tells me that he killed Satoru too, these people laughing at all of this as if it’s some sick sit-com–” He clutched at the hem of your top, his voice cracking. "Sometimes I can't help but think, what if I had just killed all of them off like Satoru said? Would I still be feeling this remorseful?"

You bit your lip at these words, not knowing what to say. Is there even a correct answer here?

Seeing the expression on your face, the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you–"

"No, no, you didn't," you quickly reassured him. The rain had stopped, and the sound of raindrops hitting the glass was replaced with the sound of trees swaying in the wind. "And honestly, I don't blame you for thinking that way. People can be so cruel sometimes."

He swallowed. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I–" His voice cracked a little.

"It's okay to cry, Suguru." You cupped his face in your hands, placing a kiss on both of his cheeks. "I hate it when you hold it in."

He leaned into your touch, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“She had friends, family, she wanted to live–" he said quietly. "And they were clapping, cheering–" He broke into a sob. "(Y/N), I–I was supposed to protect her but I couldn’t–I couldn’t even do that right–"

It was the first time you had seen him break down like this, and your chest ached. You wiped away his tears with your thumb and ran your left hand through his long hair, desperately trying to come up with something to say to calm him down as he tried to talk.

“I feel so damn useless, even now I’m just–do you see this?” He looked up at you and placed a hand on top of your right hand, his thin fingers wrapping around it as if he was scared to lose you, too. “All I'm doing – all I can do – is replaying the events over and over.” He shook his head, his wet cheeks glistening in the soft moonlight. "I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, yet – yet I couldn't save her. I watched her die."

“It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. None of it was, I promise." You could barely hear yourself speak, but you hoped that your words could help somewhat. "I'm sure that she appreciated all that you've done for her."

You didn’t know how much time had passed when his choked sobs finally slowed down to hiccups, or how long you had been tracing circles on his hand with your thumb, but by the time the sun peeked from the trees in the distance, Suguru’s eyes were closed, his long lashes brushing against his damp cheek whenever his eyelids slightly fluttered.

"I'm sorry..."

You sighed at his sleeptalking, making a mental note to talk to him later about his tendencies to feel guilty about showing his feelings. "It's okay, Suguru. You shouldn't have to apologize for anything." You kissed his forehead and murmured a soft “I love you,” giggling a little when you saw a smile form on his delicate features.

Must be a nice dream, huh.

You closed your eyes, letting the familiar warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

[erinfern0]

all cuddled up

university!gaz x gn!reader (comfort, fluff)

this fic is my addition to the amazing GazFest2023 hosted by no other than amazing @glitterypirateduck

- no gender description, no gendered nicknames, only used pronouns are you etc.

summary: gaz is having a very bad day, he's the luckiest man to have you comforting him.

warnings: just kyle who has a rough time, tears and comfort, swearing.

University is stressful for everyone, people have their better days and their worse days. You were considering yourself lucky to be engaged in a relationship with a man who completely understands that and knows how to take care of your needs. He was considering himself lucky to have you too, especially on days like this. Days when he just felt miserable and everything seemed to go wrong.

He's been studying all night, lying his head on your lap just to have the comfort of your skin and gentle touches over his hair. You smiled every time he gasped as he felt your fingers slightly tug on his hair, making him feel so safe and taken care of like never before in his life.

All of that studying didn't help at all, the moment he was supposed to get his test done – he felt like he had forgotten everything. That's why for the rest of the day he was extremely grumpy, his friends literally sending him away to rest rather than complain around them. He was clumsy, bumping into random people on the street as he tried to get to his job, a little café where he works a few hours a day after classes. The clients were awful. Demanding and rude, something that he experienced very rarely. It all seemed like the whole world was against him.

He couldn't help but search for comfort in your arms. Just thinking about being able to hold you so close to him, to listen to you whisper to him was making him melt, believing everything is going to be better. He loved that around you, he didn't have to portray himself as this emotionless, strong male who doesn't ever ask for help as society believes he should. He loved that he could just crawl next to you on the couch or your bed, lay his head on your chest, and rumble about his day, knowing that you'll actually listen. He had no idea why, but he liked to get all vulnerable around you, knowing you wouldn't judge him or change the way you felt about him just because he showed weakness.

And to you – he was far from being weak. His vulnerability was what made him strong, showing off that he was still fighting despite it all. Crying around you showed just how much he trusted you. He always made you feel so loved and safe, the only right thing to do was to reciprocate.

That's when he called you on the verge of tears, asking if you had time for him, you almost broke. Without even thinking, you asked your roommate to leave for some time so you two could have some privacy. They weren't really happy but decided to help you just this once.

You ran to the door as soon as you heard the doorbell, and let's be honest – the sight of your dear boyfriend like this made your heart skip a beat. in a bad way.

His cap was being squeezed by his shaking hand as he pressed the fingers of his other hand to the bridge of his nose. His cheeks were blushed as he looked up at you. He was done.

You slowly walked up to him, spreading your arms for him, and he quickly got the hint, giving all the energy he had left into wrapping his arms around you. Tightly squeezing your waist as his head rested on your shoulder. His breathing was odd, faster, and more chaotic than usual, making you understand how bad he truly felt.

You brought him into your apartment, still wrapping your arm around his neck as you stumbled into your hallway, closing the door just so you could make him follow you into your bedroom. You didn't ask questions as you two lay down, not even when his tears damped your clothes. You were just lying there with him, playing with his hair and allowing him to let it all out.

"It's okay, baby." you whispered as he started curling his fingers over the material of your warm hoodie, just trying to get you as close as possible.

He couldn't help but nod his head. His armor was now fully off as he cried in your arms, thinking about how awful this day was for him, how much he wished you were there with him just to support him as you're doing now. He couldn't help but feel like a child, all cuddled up to you, not even making sense of his own words. He started chuckling at his actions, saying how silly it was for him to act this way.

"Fuck, listen to me, Kyle…" you started as you looked down at him. "you're doing so great, yeah? Just rest right here with me, take your time… there's no rush." you whispered with your fingers deep into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just to make him feel a little better.

An audible gasp left his lips as he pushed his head up, hiding it right beside your neck, his throat making adorable purring sounds as he calmed down.

"Thank you, sweetie." he mumbled against your skin, taking in the scent of your shampoo. He pressed his nose over your neck, feeling your pulse right under it, made him melt.

"Don't thank me for stuff like that," you said immediately and kissed the top of his head. You slightly pulled his hair, making him look up at you as you wiped his tears away. Your heart beat faster as you saw him smiling. "Oh, that's exactly what I was waiting for… there you are" you chuckle and place butterfly kisses all over his lips, causing him to laugh wholeheartedly.

You talked about his day for over an hour, making sure he understood nothing that happened was his fault and that he was going to be so much better after a nice nap. You couldn't believe how fast he listened to your words, just sinking down onto you, his arms tightly wrapped around your body as he closed his eyes.

As he tried to fall asleep, he couldn't even describe how much he loved you, especially in moments like this, when you were just there for him, giving him all the affection and care he so desperately craved. in the end, you were all the comfort he ever needed, you were his home.

masterlist | request info

[sephirthoughts]

Father: Verb

Epilogue (Part 4 of 4)

link to prev. chapter

THE FINAL ABSOLUTE LAST CHAPTER!!!! It's all fluff. Just a cute little wrap-up, that I thought was fun. Not tagging the mentioned couples because I don't want people coming here for those pairings and being disappointed. This story was a joy to write and is very dear to me. Thank you all for enjoying it, with me!!!

“Seph, what are you planning?” Cloud’s blue eyes widened. “No…no, no, no! Don’t you dare! Seph, are you listening to me? Don’t you fucking—”

Too late. Sephiroth’s enormous, snow-white wings burst from his shoulders and unfurled majestically behind him, knocking over a large floral arrangement. Now—in his white tuxedo, with his thigh-length silver hair cascading magnificently down his back—there was basically no visual difference between him and an actual angel.

He tightened his arm around Cloud’s waist and with one beat of his seraphic wings, the pair shot heavenward, leaving behind an explosive blast of displaced air, that blew off people’s hats and knocked over several more floral arrangements. White feathers fluttered down like snow on the astonished guests, as they stared up into the sky.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself!” Cloud shouted, over the wind roaring in his face. “My mother came all the way from Rhadore, for this! We haven’t even cut the cake or taken photos, yet!”

“Worry not, my love. We’ll go back and do all those things,” Sephiroth said, nuzzling Cloud’s cheek, as he slowed to a more leisurely pace. “But you are mine, now. I wanted a moment alone with you, before your friends celebrate your marriage by stealing you away from your husband, all evening.”

“They’re our friends,” Cloud contended, “and you’re the one who invited half the population of the Planet. We agreed on a small wedding.”

Sephiroth looked innocent. “I thought the guest list was rather conservative.”

“You slippery bastards!” a voice bellowed, from about thirty meters below them.

“Did you truly think you could escape your wedding coordinator, so easily?” a second chimed in.

“And your best man?!”

“Think again, fools!”

“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess! We seek it thus, and take to the sky!” Sephiroth shot back, before putting on a sudden burst of speed and darting away.

“You—! How dare you use Loveless for evil!” Genesis shouted after them. “Get back here!!”

Streaks of vibrant light raced across the sky, as the two sped off in hot pursuit of Sephiroth and his captive spouse, taxing the limits of their respective pairs of polychromatic-red and marine-blue wings. Their quarry, meanwhile, was laughing and toying with them, spiraling and looping back, almost letting them catch up, only to zip away again.

“Seph, you gotta stop,” Cloud groaned, after this had gone on for some time. “My motion sickness…I’m gonna puke.”

Sephiroth halted so abruptly, that Genesis nearly slammed into his back, and was only prevented from doing so by Angeal, who pulled him to the side, just in time.

“Tired you out a—already, huh?” Genesis panted. “You’d best give it up!”

Sephiroth held up a hand. “Hush. Cloud isn’t feeling well. Hearing your voice can only make it worse.”

“Oh ho-ho! You can’t hide behind your tiny husband, this time! Geal, get him!”

“Ha—fuck. I’m way too out of shape for this,” Angeal puffed, pinching his very trim, muscular side. “Just come back, before Mr. Highwind gets drunk and starts singing dragoon songs.”

“He’s right. We’d really better prevent that,” Cloud said, suddenly seeming to have miraculously recovered.

Sephiroth looked aggrieved. “A ruse, my love? Is that how you use my genuine concern for your wellbeing?”

“Yeah, it’s literally the only thing that works, you stubborn asshole,” Cloud retorted. “Now take me back to my wedding. You can act like a jealous cat after the guests go home.”

“He is like a jealous cat, how precious!” Genesis exclaimed, clapping delightedly. “All he needs is a collar, with a little tag that says ‘Sephi’.”

“No one calls me Sephi, but you,” Sephiroth scowled.

“But they would, if it were written on your collar,” Genesis put forth.

Meanwhile, Angeal had pulled out his phone and was looking at the screen. “Director Valentine says if you two haven’t returned in ten minutes, Chaos is coming to retrieve you.”

“Wow, I can’t believe dad really used the ‘don’t make me come get you’ threat,” Cloud laughed. “Are we eight years old?”

“I suppose we’d better go back,” Sephiroth conceded. “It would be quite embarrassing to be dragged back to my own wedding, by my father’s ancient demon form.”

Genesis raised his eyebrows. “More embarrassing than being abducted by your husband, from the altar?”

“It was really more of a podium.”

“Guys! Guys, look!” another voice shouted, from a little distance below. It was a young, masculine voice, that sounded both exuberant, and more than a bit winded. “My wings finally came in! They finally—ah! oop! Hoo boy, you all make this look so easy!”

“Zack, what the hell are you doing!” Angeal scolded. “You can’t fly this high on your first time out! You’ll get yourself killed!”

Zack immediately put on his most pitiful puppy expression. “But everyone flew away all the sudden, and I didn’t want to be left out. Besides, I’m doing awesome! Hey, what kind of wings are these?”

“Steller’s jay,” Cloud answered, without missing a beat. Everyone looked at him. “The primary flight feathers are dark blue, the secondaries have that black and blue hatching, and the tertials have grey tips.”

“What—why do you know so much about bird feathers? What are mine?” Angeal asked.

“Magpie. Genesis, yours are phoenix, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Genesis sniffed, with a flutter of his shimmering, multicolored feathers.

“What about mine?” asked Sephiroth, who was fully aware that his huge, snow-white wings were gloriously angelic, especially bathed in the golden glow of the last afternoon sunlight, as they were now.

Cloud looked his husband directly in the face. “Goose.”

Zack’s mouth fell open, Angeal gave a snort, which he attempted to pass off as cough, and Genesis proceeded to nearly fall out the sky laughing.

At that point, the game was at its best, and the five friends glided back toward the wedding venue. Said venue being a veritable city of pavilions and tents, which had been erected, in the lush and idyllic valley outside Kalm, to host what was universally termed the wedding of the century.

The Turks were out in force—and in their iconic black suits—and the rank and file WRO troops were patrolling, keeping the more intrepid paparazzi at bay, but most of the public respected the involved parties far too much, to attempt to intrude upon the private event.

The young men landed behind the service tents, to avoid notice, but Zack came in too hot and went sprawling forward, nearly smashing into a large cart, loaded with dishes and flatware.

“Yeah, you’re doing great,” Angeal said drily, grabbing the back of his jacket and lifting him off his feet, like a mother cat scruffing a kitten.

“Come on, it’s my first time out,” Zack protested. “It wasn’t that bad, was it, Commander?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sephiroth assured him. “In fact, as I recall, Angeal’s first landing was much worse. He wound up in a cactuar patch, and—”

“Ah—ahem! No need to rehash all of that right now,” Angeal cut in hastily. “Don’t we have a wedding to get back to?”

“Indeed, we do,” Genesis agreed. “I’m off to wrangle the staff and make sure the guests are behaving themselves. I’ll tell your father you’re back. Don’t keep everyone waiting, too long.”

“I’m going to return this stray puppy to Aerith,” said Angeal, who still had Zack by the collar.

“See you guys later! Congratulations!” Zack called to them, as he was pulled away.

Thus the group parted, and the newly-married couple went off to the bridal tent, to freshen up, before going out to face the gauntlet of celebratory socializing.

Cloud only took off his tie and jacket, keeping his black waistcoat. Sephiroth removed his tie, jacket, and waistcoat, then unbuttoned his collar down to the sternum, and rolled up his sleeves, at which Cloud laughed and shook his head. 

“You’re just not comfortable unless your tits are out, are you.”

“My chest is too wide for most garments,” Sephiroth complained, as he sat down at the vanity. “They restrict my movement and make me feel as if I’m suffocating.”

“Even your bespoke-tailored wedding tux?”

“I…must’ve grown a bit, since I was measured.”

Cloud draped his arms over his shoulders and rested his chin on top of his head. “Do you remember that day on the beach, back in Costa del Sol, when you first told me you wanted to marry me?”

“Of course I do. You behaved as if you were an offended maiden, and I was a rogue who’d made an indecent proposition, to you.”

“I was six years old, Seph, what did you expect?”

“I didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t ever met another child. Now that I’ve interacted with many children, I’ve come to understand that you were a highly precocious one. Six-year-olds don’t tend to be so coherent and introspective.”

“Most people just called me weird.”

“You called me weird, that day. You also said I was your guardian angel, whether I had wings or not.”

“And you told me you really did have wings. The funny thing is, I believed you, without a second thought. Even back then.”

Sephiroth took his hand and laced their fingers together, before pressing a kiss to it. “You were right to. I have never lied to you.”

“Oh, really?” Cloud said, raising his eyebrows. “Because I seem to recall a certain occasion in which you said you were going out of town with dad, and had to miss my birthday, and when I got home, you were in my apartment, with a hundred people, and what could only be regarded as an antagonistic number of balloons.”

“Using a pretext to conceal a surprise is not the same as lying,” Sephiroth contested. “Lying implies ill intent.”

“If making me socialize with a triple-digit number of surprise birthday guests isn’t ill intent, I don’t know what is.”

“You were turning twenty. It was a significant event, and warranted proper observance. If I’d asked your opinion, first, you’d have insisted upon a small celebration.”

“I think you just love birthday parties.” Cloud reached over Sephiroth and picked up the brush from the vanity. “It doesn’t even matter who they’re for. Just the mention of an upcoming birthday, for anyone even tangentially connected to you, and you light up like a firework.”

While he was speaking, he began to run the brush through Sephiroth’s mane of heavy, silky, moon-silver hair. Gradually, the catlike eyes fell closed, and a low reverberation sounded from his chest. Cloud smiled to himself, as he pulled his husband’s beautiful hair up into a stylishly messy ponytail, leaving plenty of loose strands to frame his face. He finished it with a kiss on the top of his head, and returned the brush to the vanity.

“Purring is definitely the cutest thing you do,” he said, sliding his hands down onto Sephiroth’s half-exposed pectoral muscles, unabashedly ogling them in the mirror. “You better not purr for anyone else, though. We’re married, now. That means you’re my legal property and I own you.”

“Mmm, I like being your property,” Sephiroth hummed, without opening his eyes.

“Damn right. Every woman on the planet has their sights on you, so I gotta make sure you know your place. You’re lucky I don’t put a collar on you, like Genesis said.”

“I would like that, too.”

“Oh yeah? You want a collar that says ‘Property of Cloud Strife’?”

Sephiroth leaned back to look up at him. “Yes, I do. I want everyone to know, at a glance, who I belong to.”

“You want a bigger declaration of ownership than a wedding ring, and taking my last name?” Cloud smirked. “You’re such a simp, babe.”

“I know you’re being ironic, but I like when you call me babe, too,” Sephiroth said, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Gross, get a room!” came a voice from the entrance of the tent.

“This is our room,” Cloud rejoined. “Why don’t you knock, before you go barging into off-limits areas.”

“You ever try knocking on a tent flap? Besides, I’m your mother, no areas are off-limits to me. Hey, Seph, you look beautiful.” Claudia narrowed her sky-blue eyes suspiciously. “Radiant, even. You’re not pregnant, are you? Am I a shotgun grandmother?”

“Tch, you’re one to judge,” Cloud snorted. “Where’s my stepfather? I need to tell him his woman is out of control.”

Just then, there was a tumult, at the tent flaps, as a white and grey dog came barreling through, pursued closely by two men, who stumbled over each other trying to prevent the animal running inside, and wound up tumbling in after it.

Ignoring the cries of “Nalu! Nalu, no!” the intrepid canine leapt blithely into the lap of the white-clad groom, and proceeded to enthusiastically demonstrate its feelings, via big, slobbery kisses, all over his face.

“Apologies, brother and brother-in-law,” the younger of the two men said, as the older one pulled him to his feet. “Nalu is not well behaved. He has shamed his father.”

“Aw, he’s just happy to see his bestest friend,” the older man refuted, in the dog’s defense. “Don’t gotta bring family honor into it.”

“It’s only an idiom, that doesn’t quite translate,” Sephiroth clarified. He had risen to his feet, still holding the full-sized dog in his arms (though it didn’t look like more than a lapdog, since he was so much bigger than a regular person, himself). “How have you been, Glenn? I trust you’re taking good care of my mother-in-law?”

“Clearly not,” Cloud piped up. “She’s running wild all over my wedding, breaking into private tents, and accusing people of being pregnant.”

“Look at you, Cloudy boy!” Glenn said, with a bluff, paternal slap on the back. “All grown…well, not up, since you’re not a hair taller than you were last time I saw ya, but grown older!”

“Thanks,” Cloud grumbled, crossing his arms.

Glenn was already patting Sephiroth on the large, muscular shoulder, looking him appreciatively up and down. “Seph, you haven’t grown in years, but that’s probably for the best. I used to think you’d just keep growing and growing, till you had to live in the ocean, like one of those giant sea monsters.”

“That’s enough out of you, you old clod,” his wife chided. “Comparing my son-in-law to a giant sea monster, on his special day!”

“Sorry, Seph. I meant one of those giant sea creatures.”

“You!” Claudia hmphed, while Glenn snickered at his own joke.

“It is good to see you, my friend,” Sephiroth was saying to the dog, much in the same tone he’d use to address an adult human, as he set it on its feet. “But you are no longer a pup. Now that you have inherited Refu’s position, you must act judiciously, and set a good example for the younger generation.”

The dog stopped thrashing its tail and sat up straight on its haunches, putting on such a solemn air, that everyone burst out laughing (except Sephiroth, who only smiled mildly). While the others were busy admiring the dog, he stepped over to greet the person, who’d come in with Glenn.

The formerly skinny teenaged boy had become a beautiful young man, in the intervening years, with deeply sun-bronzed skin, and a slender, agile frame. He was dressed in Rhadore’s traditional celebratory garb, and his long, sable-brown hair had beads and colorful ribbons braided in, here and there. His eyes were the same as always. Dark and profound as the deep ocean, seeming to be burdened with cares far beyond his years.

“Rosen.” Sephiroth’s smile didn’t falter, as they clasped hands, but there was something searching and almost desolate, in his gaze. “How…how is everything, on your islands?”

“Things are stable, thank you,” the other young man answered, with a nod. “You need not worry. You know I would alert you, the moment anything felt wrong with the Planet’s energy. My adoptive parents live there, too, after all.”

“And your people?”

“Flourishing. The WRO’s assistance has allowed us to build better hospitals and schools, while paying proper respect to our traditions, and our natural environment. You are quite the hero, on Rhadore. There are even talks of naming the new university after you.”

“I wish they wouldn’t,” Sephiroth frowned, casting his eyes down. “I’m just a foreigner with a lot of money, who saw opportunities to invest in Rhadore’s development. I don’t deserve any such honors.”

“Not even you believe that,” Rosen said, smiling faintly. “Besides, you have now married into our tribe. Your parents-in-law are naturalized Rhadoran citizens. And I, the Eye of Rhadore, am your brother-in-law. As far as the Rhadorans are concerned, you are one of our own.”

Cloud’s mother was fussing with his hair, and Glenn was saying something about the hotel beds on the continent being too soft, so the others weren’t paying attention to them, at the moment.

“Do you remember the day we met?” Sephiroth asked, in a lower tone, using the Rhadoran native tongue.

“How could I forget?” Rosen answered, in the same way. “That was the day everything changed.”

“Sometimes, it seems that not so many years have gone by, and at other times…that past seems so distant.”

“It was another life, my brother.” As he looked up into Sephiroth’s eyes, Rosen’s words seemed freighted with some hidden meaning, only intelligible to the two of them. “All that matters now, is what we do with the lives we’ve been given.”

Glenn and Claudia’s jovial chatter, interspersed here and there with Cloud’s monosyllabic responses, was interrupted, just then, by someone clearing their throat, at the entrance to the tent. It was a man in a fashionably streamlined black suit, with long, black hair, pulled neatly back at the crown of his head.

“What the—how long have you been standing there, Tseng?” Cloud demanded.

“Long enough,” Tseng answered mysteriously. “I came to inform you and the Commander that President Tuesti and Vice President Shinra have arrived.”

“It’s about time they showed up,” Claudia said disapprovingly. “I can’t believe that man let Tifa travel here, all by herself, this close to her due-date.”

“No need to worry, ma’am,” Tseng assured her. “The Turks have been keeping a close watch over Mrs. Shinra, in the Vice President’s absence. She is in good spirits, and Ms. Gainsborough and Knight Fair were with her, when I last checked.”

“Why are those two so late, anyway?” Glenn asked. “Not a good look for the heads of the WRO to miss two of the founding members’ wedding.”

“They apologize for their tardiness, but their negotiations with the Wutaian king went long,” Tseng explained. “Or so they claim. From the smell of them, I’d say they were all drinking together, again.”

“Wutaian king—they didn’t bring that lunatic princess back with them, did they?” Cloud asked, alarmed.

Tseng arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “How would I know? She’s a ninja.”

“Oh, Shiva, you’re right! She could be here, right now, for all we know!” He grabbed Sephiroth’s arm and peered anxiously about, as if expecting the lunatic princess in question to spring upon him, at any moment.

Sephiroth looked exceedingly amused. “Are you afraid of the little girl, my love?”

“Yes! You’re my husband, so this is your problem, too! You have to protect my honor!”

“Oh, honey, she just had a little crush on you,” Claudia admonished. “That was two years ago, anyway. I’m sure she’s gotten over it, by now.”

“A crush?! Is that what you call bursting out of trash cans and bushes, throwing shuriken at me, all the time? I still can’t walk past a dumpster without having a panic attack!”

“Not to call attention away from the important issue of Knight Strife being afraid of a teenaged girl,” Tseng interjected, “but I was asked by Commander Rhapsodos to cordially remind you that the guests are anxious to see the bride and groom.”

“Oh yeah?” Glenn laughed. “Which one is the bride?”

“Sephiroth is,” Cloud said.

“I am,” Sephiroth said, at the same time.

“Those were Commander Rhapsodos’ words, not mine,” Tseng replied diplomatically. “He also said, and I quote, ‘If they’re not in their places to cut the cake when it’s wheeled out here, I’ll cut it my goddamned self.’ Though, I doubt Director Valentine will allow that.”

Cloud made a face. “You calling our dad Director Valentine is super weird.”

“I always thought you calling him dad was kinda weird,” Glenn said, scratching his chin. “You know. Cause of you and Seph.”

“It’s perfectly natural that Cloud should address my father by a paternal epithet,” Sephiroth replied, coming to his husband’s defense. “He raised us as brothers, after all.”

“Thank you, Seph,” Cloud sighed. “Now it sounds even weirder.”

“You are most welcome,” Sephiroth answered blithely.

“Your dubiously fraternal relationship notwithstanding, paying proper respect to one’s elders—particularly one’s employers—is simply good manners,” Tseng maintained. “Director Valentine is a founder and majority stakeholder in the WRO, a former Turk, and my elder, by many, many, many years.”

“Would you like it if he called you Agent Tseng?” Cloud challenged.

“He does, and I do,” Tseng riposted.

There was a beat, then Cloud’s eyes went wide and he pointed an accusing finger at Tseng. “You—how could you! My pure, innocent mind! Keep your gross kinks to yourself!!”

“I meant nothing untoward by it,” Tseng said loftily. “But, you have given me an interesting idea.”

“Gah! Seph, make him stop!”

“Why should it trouble you that father and his partner are sexually adventurous? I, for one, am very happy for them.”

“I can’t believe you’re enabling this!”

“If only I could’ve enabled it, sooner,” Sephiroth lamented. “Agent Tseng was in love with him for years, but father is tragically dense. I’d begun to fear it would never happen.”

“What, really?” Cloud said, turning to Tseng. “You mean, you fell for him while you were spying on us for Shinra? Like a forbidden romance in a movie?”

“Not exactly. I had met him once, before that. When I was fourteen years old, I was sent on my first field assignment with the Turks, here in Kalm. Director Valentine, our target, held me at gunpoint, in an alley. I’ve known he was the one, since that day.”

“Aw, that’s beautiful, Tseng,” Claudia said, with a wistful smile. “Young love is so sweet.”

Cloud grimaced at his mother. “Most young love doesn’t involve threatening one another with firearms. Also, it’s only young love if they’re both young. Dad is old enough to be your father.”

“There seems to be some mystical significance to the age of fourteen,” Rosen mused. “So many of our futures have hinged on a moment, in that year of our lives.”

“Not mine,” Cloud said staunchly. “I’ve been on a steady trajectory, since I was six.”

“You’ve had like, thirty different jobs, honey,” Claudia reminded him.

“It’s called finding yourself, mother. And I was talking about my trajectory toward marrying Seph. I would’ve had a steady career a lot sooner, but he wouldn’t let me be a SOLDIER.”

“What I wouldn’t allow you to do was join Shinra’s private military, back in the days of children killing children, at the whims of a corporation,” Sephiroth said.

“See? He’s an ogre! He may as well lock me in a tower!”

“Nonsense. I made no objection to you becoming a Knight, the very moment you were old enough.”

“You say that, but every time I try to train with the others, everyone’s too scared to fight me seriously, because of you, so they just let me win.”

“No one lets you win, my love. I specifically forbade it. You’re simply stronger than they are.”

Cloud squinted doubtfully. “Even Weiss?”

“Have you ever beaten Weiss?”

“Well…no. But he doesn’t count, anyway, cause the Tsviets aren’t really Knights. Speaking of which, your creepy half-brother is always giving me the evil eye, when I go down there. I don’t think he likes me, very much.”

“He dislikes all humans,” a new voice said, as the tent flap was pushed open, yet again. “But you’ve no need to worry about Nero. He and Weiss will not break the oath they swore, to me.”

“Father!” Sephiroth beamed, hurrying to embrace Vincent, just as he always did, any time they’d been apart for more than a few hours.

“Oh hey, dad, come right in. Literally everyone else has,” Cloud groused.

Vincent was dressed in a gorgeously made Victorian suit, in jet black, and matching short cape, lined with crimson brocade. Under the fitted waistcoat he wore a blood-red shirt and cravat, upon which gleamed a little silver locket, on a chain.

“Congratulations, Seph, Cloud,” he said warmly. “I’m so happy for you. As are many other people. You boys are neglecting your guests.”

Cloud was the picture of injured innocence. “It’s not our fault! Your fiancée came in here and started talking about his weird kinks, and everyone got sidetracked!”

“In that case, I’m sorry to have missed it,” Vincent remarked, as Tseng slipped an arm around his waist. “Hurry and come out. Everyone’s waiting.”

Claudia and Glenn went out after Vincent and Tseng, followed by Rosen and a very serious, well-behaved Nalu.

Before they followed the others, Cloud stopped at the entrance of the tent, and took Sephiroth’s hand in his, looking up at him, with sparkling eyes. “This is it. Are you ready to face the world, as Sephiroth Valentine Strife?”

Sephiroth smiled, pulling him closer. “Everything I have done, has been with the hope of living this moment, with you. I have been ready for a hundred lifetimes.”

“Wow,” Cloud said. “You are…so fucking dramatic.”

“I suppose I am. It does run in the family, after all. Ah? Are those tears, my love?”

“No! Shut up!”

“Yes, I think they are.”

“I was chopping onions! I mean, an eyelash got in my eye! No—Seph, put me down! Seph!”

🎊🎊🎊🎊THE END🎊🎊🎊🎊

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY 

This is a Steller's Jay. Tell me this bird is not literally Zack

LOOK AT ITS LIL HAIRDO AND EVERYTHING 

Tseng and Vincent got married in a private ceremony, performed in the traditional Wutaian style, three months later, with only family in attendance. Tifa had twin boys, neither of whom were named after her husband's horrible and long-deceased father. Zack and Aerith got married the next year, in spring.   And they all lived happily ever after.

[hxllfires-gifs]

PAIRING. jere pöyhönen x gender neutral!reader

SUMMARY. during the grand final, jere is left sad and frustrated by the results, but he thankfully has his partner of two years by his side to cheer him up.

WORD COUNT. 965

THE RESULTS OF the Eurovision Grand Final wasn’t what most people in the Green Room had expected, Finland coming second rather than winning. Y/N L/N couldn’t help but to feel their heart break when they turned their head to see how their boyfriend was feeling after hearing the information. There was a sadness in Jere’s eyes that they could see, which they didn’t want to. Neither liked to see the other upset or in pain.

They sighed and laced their fingers together as a way to give him some comfort. They could tell that he needed it and wanted to help him in any way possible. He had worked so hard for months and he was hopeful that he’d win since there was so many people cheering him on. For a split second, it felt like that was for nothing.

The younger of the two rubbed their thumb over his knuckles, earning a small squeeze of their hand. The Finn ran his free hand through his hair as he attempted to push down the frustrated feelings blooming in his chest. It was so close yet so far.

Luke had come over to give Jere a hug, seeing that he was saddened by the end result. Y/N thanked him softly before he returned to his spot in the Green Room. Their attention then turned back to their lover, not really listening to Lorine’s performance, instead choosing to comfort the taller male. They did like ‘Tattoo’ but they were rooting for the man they loved more than anything.

Jere was first backstage once everything was over and he disappeared into one of the bathrooms, leaving his partner to wonder where he was at. However, they were aware of his patterns and how his brain worked, so they decided to search for him in the place where they thought he’d be.

Stood in front of the same bathroom, they knocked on the door gently. “My love, please let me in.”

They didn’t care how it looked, only caring about how Jere was doing. They heard some shuffling close to the door which opened up a few seconds later. They were met with Jere’s tear stained face and their eyes softened instantly, their heart seemingly breaking even more. They didn’t see how it couldn’t honestly.

They slipped into the bathroom and was sure to close the door behind them, locking it. Fresh tears fell from the man’s eyes. Y/N hadn’t seen him this sad in such a long time and all they wanted was to make him feel better. He was their cute boyfriend who was the embodiment of a puppy; he was always smiling and laughing and making them feel so much happier. Seeing him crying almost felt wrong.

He was always there for them when they were down so they needed to return the favor. The H/C haired being reached their hand up to wipe away some of his tears, wrapping their other arm slightly around his waist. By now, he was shirtless, having taken off the green jacket that he performed in.

“Did I work so hard for nothing?” His voice was full of emotion, genuinely thinking that question.

Y/N shook their head before responding to the question that they thought was absurd. “No, absolutely not. I know that you are disappointed, as am I, but you did everything right. Your hard work paid off! Even though you didn’t win Eurovision, you won the hearts of so many people.”

Jere went to argue but they didn’t let him, needing to get their feelings out in the open first. They wanted him to think about all that had happened, all the friends he had made. It wasn’t all for nothing and deep down, the dark haired male understood that.

“Jere, I’m so proud of you, as are the friends we’ve made here. I didn’t have to feel the stress of competing and I can’t even imagine how it’s felt, but you always inspire me.” It was true, their boyfriend was their inspiration for quite literally everything. They were amazed by him and how kind he was, how hardworking he was.

He sniffled and calmed himself down. He was quite a sensitive person and sometimes he just had to allow himself to feel anything he needed to, Y/N was aware of this, but they still were there for him no matter what.

“Thanks, angel. I just needed to let out some of these emotions. I feel like I’m starting to be emotionally drained but I am grateful for you being here with me, I love you more than you know.” The Pöyhönen did not know what he would do without them.

The two had been dating for two years now but they still had him wrapped around their finger. They were the best and he wholeheartedly believed that they were the only person for him.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you. I love you too, bub.” They took their right hand and touched Jere’s chest, close to where his tattoo was. The touch was given to further calm him and ground him.

“I’m okay,” he stated.

They only let him go wash his face once they were sure. Once he was done, the two were ready to join everyone again. Y/N was sure that they were all wondering where the two went.

“You ready to see everyone?” Their question was genuine since they didn’t want him to do anything he was uncomfortable with.

When he nodded, the L/N opened the door and the two walked out, wandering off to find their friends. Jere grabbed something to drink whilst Y/N talked with Alika. Everyone spent the rest of their time at the venue, cheering up the Finn further and messing around, wanting to cherish these moments.

[disneyprincemuke]

the hated and the endeared

[fast times and fast nights]

when you think rebellious and outspoken in f1, who is your answer? if your answer is jupiter nightshade, you’d be absolutely right. so, imagine everyone’s surprise when it came out — through no fault of her own because aella had posted a picture of them together — that seemingly cold hearted jupiter is dating warm and bubbly oscar piastri.

→ qatar, 2021

“oi, mate!” oscar barges into the garage with a hand on his forehead. “why did you do that?”

aella, pulling her red racesuit up her legs looks up at her best friend in the dark blue hoodie. “what did i do?”

jupiter comes out from behind him with her hands on her hips. “you outted us to the public, aella.”

at the sight of the world champion — the person she looks up to, literally — she stumbles back a couple of steps and holds onto the wing of the car parked in the garage to balance herself. “it was a group photo!”

“i had my hand around her waist!”

“it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off of her for one picture!”

jupiter sighs, throwing her head back. “aella.”

“i’m sorry,” she cries out, hurriedly pulling up her race suit over her body. “i thought you guys were okay with people finding out. we went to the bahamas together! that’s a public space. i’m sorry, jupiter.” she looks at oscar. “help me; i don’t want to get mauled before my race.”

a small smile plays on jupiter’s lips watching the younger driver looking at oscar for some form of protection. she taps aella on her arm. “okay, fine. only because,” jupiter sighs, wrapping her hands around oscar’s arm and rests her head on his shoulder, “i like him a lot.”

there are many questions surrounding their involvement. oscar… oscar piastri… that name rings a bell, doesn’t it?

— renault junior, oscar piastri, wins 2020 f3 championship title on first try

— breaking: prema driver, oscar piastri, announces retirement from racing after winning 2021 f2 championship title to focus on furthering his education

i think you can see why there’s a lot of questions regarding their involvement. a kid with a bright future ahead of him in the racing scene suddenly steps away after his alleged involvement with the reigning world champion.

rumour has it that jupiter had asked oscar to step away from the racing scene so that she can keep unapologetically be a menace on the track. there was even one alleging that jupiter is forcing him to be her trophy boyfriend – to sit in the sidelines while she dominates the track.

❝no, god! that’s an absurd thing to say. stepping away from racing to focus on my education is a decision that was set in stone even before i met jupiter. she didn’t have to convince me to quit racing; she didn’t even know of the decision up until a week before my last race in f2.❞

❝ohh, he announces his retirement from the sport and suddenly everyone is accusing me of forcing him to quit racing. no, i didn’t tell him to quit. i even joked with oscar that the only way i’ll be giving up my championship is if he is fighting me for it.❞*

the villainisation of jupiter nightshade doesn’t end there. you know how to story goes: a woman dominating a sport meant for men. the woman who paved the way for several others to earn their rightful spot in f1 with her and roxanne castle.

– ❝jupiter nightshade takes the podium once again for tonight’s race. on your screens, folks, is jupiter and her boyfriend, oscar piastri, in an embrace. this win means a lot for her – she’s now taken the lead for the driver’s championship away from mercedes driver (and long time rival) sonnet pham.❞

– ❝oscar piastri was sighted walking about in the paddocks alongside best friends, aella gutierrez and logan sargeant, before bidding them goodbye to enter the red bull racing home.❞

– ❝jupiter nightshade’s custom ferrari was spotted in oscar piastri’s university parking lot. shortly after, they were seen walking out of campus hand-in-hand before he drove them out of the parking lot.❞

– ❝there’s just something off about how oscar retired shortly after they came out and told everyone they’re dating.❞

– ❝did you see oscar’s instagram the other night? they went on a romantic dinner in monaco together! that might have been one of the rare times that i’ve seen jupiter nightshade sport such a genuine smile.❞

– ❝jupiter nightshade is under investigation by the fia stewards for pushing another driver off the track.❞

but even ice melts when you’re in the presence of the warmest smile everyone’s ever seen.

→ japan gp, 2023

“no, it doesn’t make any fucking sense!” jupiter scolds, walking into her garage with her helmet in her hands. “that’s stupid – why did you let kelly pass me? i was faster! i needed those extra points!”

christian sighs, stepping back as the angry girl approaches. “jupiter, please. calm down first.”

“camellia closed up our gap! one wrong move and i swear either mercedes is coming for my throat in the championship fight!” she throws her arms in the air. she takes a deep breath, ready to continue her rampage.

in the corner of her eye, she notices a figure taking off the headphones from his head and approaching her. she does a double take, unsure if she’s hallucinating. she raises her eyebrows with a smile. “oscar!”

“jupiter!” oscar laughs, opening his arms as he comes towards her. “surprise! i made it out this weekend! i finished my submissions early and i got a flight to fly out in the afternoon yesterday. i arrived this morning; i’ve been hiding in the mclaren home with aella the entire day.”

“oh, you’re sneaky!” jupiter laughs, throwing her arms around oscar. “i’m so glad you could make it. thank you.”

the signature smirks turn into the warmest smiles in his presence — some might argue that her ice cold demeanour is thawing with his presence. but everyone says, and swears, that oscar piastri made jupiter nightshade more likeable. they could very well be right. but is that what she thinks?

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @angsthology

[szagaloree]

His wife…

Chapter 7

Contains: angst/blood/ then fluff/smut

Quaritch slowly woke up with his arms wrapped around gwen, he sighs staring down at her sleeping state, he cannot lie, he wants her back he really wants her back that’s why he’s trying to chang but something is holding him back like a drug. He kiss the top of her before getting out of bed and dressed, he stretched cracking some of his bones before leaving. “Aye Quaritch they’re at it again,” Lyle said “what are you talking about?” Quaritch raised a brow “they’re testing on the kid,” he said and that’s when Quaritch jaw clenched in anger, he couldn’t believe she was doing it again! Testing on his son.

He sprints in to see him in that machine again, he nearly was going to have seizure from that with blood running down his nose, he slams the button “what the fuck are you doing?!” He exclaims, “we need answers I’m not waiting for you to play daddy,” she said not caring at all, “take him out” Quaritch said “excuse me?” She questions “take.him.out!” Quaritch growled, “I’m afraid not,” she said, Quaritch tilts his head with chest pumping hardly before grabs at the machine pulling one of the systems off making the scientists sprint up “hey!” They yelled, “get him out of each and every one of you are gonna be eating alive,” he threatens coldly, Lyle, z-dog, ha and mansk pull out their guns.

One of them ends up pressing the button releasing but he was so weak he couldn’t stand up so Quaritch caught him Lyle while walks over to carry the boy, “why do you care about the boy so much he’s not even your son,” that made his fists ball up, “that’s because you erased my memories of my wife and my son, that’s why,” her eyes widen so did the others, “you think I didn’t know? Huh… I see why sully switched sides because even your own people be so twisted,” Quaritch said leaving.

“Wait he’s your son?”?z-dog asks in shock “mhm there’s videos to prove he is,” Quaritch spiel, “I mean… he does look like him,” mansk shrugs, gwen was awake now and she was walking through the hallway to look for spider, “spider?!” She gasps “what the hell happened?” She asks “Carmella was testing on the boy trying to get him to spill the beans on sully,” Lyle answered. “I’m gonna fuck that bitch up!” She grunted “this I want to see,” mansk smirked along with a-dog and ja but Quaritch grabs her waist stopping “woah there, I handled it, she won’t be doing that again,” he said “I don’t care Imma handle her, I’m sick of her,” she tries to get out of his grip but he only tightened it telling she was not going to literally kill Carmella. “I handled it okay, I’m gonna get him check alright he’ll be fine,” Quaritch says, gwen huffs crossing her arms ,“she got one more time,” Gwen said, spider got checked and he’s thankfully okay and just needs to rest for the day it was to the point gwen had him in his aunties quarters so he can have multiple eyes on him. They were pissed off themselves when they were told what happened, “I want him out of here! It’s getting to damn dangerous! I’m not finna test on my son like he’s a animals! It’s disgusting and inhuman!” She argues, “I know I know, where are we gonna take him? We can’t just leave,” Quaritch said, “I’m gonna find a way! I’m sick of sticking here, I’m not finna loose my son,” she says “our son, we’ll figure something out okay,”he comforts her.

She looks up at him, she was worried for her son, the way he was easily taken from them just to try and get a word out of him by torturing him like that scares her, “I’m going to go I need some air,” she said leaving, she walks to the quarters “everything alright?” Allen asks “no they did it again! You still got location on the others who stood back?” I ask “yea why?” She tilts her head “I need to talk to them… I.. spider can’t stay here it’s getting worser Carmella is only going to torture him more if he doesn’t tell her shit,” gwen huffs. “You want me to come with you?” Allen asks, “I don’t know, they’re probably not going to trust us,” gwen says hesitantly “well, what if we bring spider?” She sighed “alright let’s go,” Allen and gwen walked inside spider’s room to wake him up “what’s going on?” He asks “we’re going to see some old friends, I bet you know them,” gwen smirks, “who?” He asks rubbing his eyes “you’ll see but don’t tell anyone,” he nods he follows and they were able to sneak out, and fly on their ikran’s with Allen leading the way.

“Hey max! Check this out!” Norm jogs over to max kneeling down to show him something, “wait! They’re here!” One shouted norm grabs his gun along with the others when they spot us, gwen flies down hoping down “spider?” Norm calls in disbelief “norm!” Spider sprints to him smiling, “gwen?” Max stares at her trying to figure her out, “yea” they gasp, “what? I-it-it really worked?!” He says nervously she nods “yea on few of us,” Allen said, “how did you come back, I thought you died from giving birth?” Samantha asks “yea I did, but they store our memories for this specific reason to bring us back.. as their damn puppets,” gwen said, “are you alone?” Norm asks we both nodded “yea it’s just them,” spider said, “I’m trying to figure out how I can get spider out of this if not me and the rest, they were literally testing on him just to try and get a word out on where Jake sully is… and I’m not gonna let that happen,” I said, “he can stay with us, he’s been staying with us ever since jake and the omaticaya sent them back to earth,” max said, “we can’t let him stay right now we have to think this through, it’s not easy because the rest will be after him too and they’ll suspicious of us and put us down for good,” Allen said.

“If Jake ever gives you word on anything let him know he got his on recoms in their for him and we’ll try to give out every word we get,” gwen says sternly, max and norm nodded, “you knows it going to take sometimes for them to trust you, I know Jake probably would trust since he was trying to reach out to you for help against them but you ended passing away before he could,” norm says, gwen sighs “yea I know.. Jake knows I’m not them, nothing like them but he knows i was Quaritch’s wife even though I am I couldn’t even get him to change when I myself wanted him too,” she said, “let’s go spider, we gotta head back before they start looking for us,” she sighed.

A day later norm and max was already heading to the metkayina clan to find out what’s going on with kiri, “Jake umm there’s something we found and need to know,” norm says “what?” He asks scared, “you remember gwen?” Max asks his eyebrows twitches in confusion “gwen?” Jake says quietly “uhh no I don’t remember,” he said, “so umm it comes to find out that… spider’s mother is alive,” he raises a brow “she was alive this whole time? Where the hell was she?!” Jake asks getting angry because there’s no way his mother could be alive and didn’t bother to look for son?! “No no, the thing is gwen was brought back to life by the rda,” max explains “gwen who is gwen I don’t… oh shit, gwen?! Wait gwen!” Max nods “quaritch’s wife; she’s his mother,” Jake eyes widen, “gwen is brought back to life? How?” He asks “they have a memory card so that way they can be made and brought back to life with their memories,” max explains, “it’s creepy but she came to us yesterday because she’s trying to figure a way out for her and spider,” norm said, “she’s one of them?” Jake huffs shaking his head “if she was she wouldn’t be coming to us she already they were trying to test on the kid to try and get him to talk basically, torture him.. Jake you know she isn’t, you even tried to reach out to her before she died,” norms says.

“How did she die?” Jake asks.

“Giving birth to spider,” Jake eyes slowly widen, the guilt and sadness he felt “damn man, that’s fucked up, man!” He shakes his head sighing, “she said you got recoms on the inside that’s willing to give you their next move,” Jake puts out a smirk “yea she’s Quaritch wife alright she’s known for recom missions, whatever she can give send it to me, I’ll try to figure out how I can get her and spider out,” they nodded.

[keyh0use]

can u do more about rafe being obsesseddd with his man

wasn't sure if you wanted 🌞✨❤️ obsessed ❤️✨🌞 or 🩸🔪🖤 obsessed 🖤🔪🩸 so both <3 but not really nsfw cause you didn't ask for that

Rafe has to fight with his hair to get it to be presentable, scooping out globs of gel to slick it back. Meanwhile Barry's hair is perfect no matter what and the kook isn't jealous, no, he loves the way the dark hair curls around tan ears and how strands fall out of a loose bun and how soft it is between his fingers. Barry doesn't let anyone touch his hair except Rafe and the boy takes advantage of that every chance he gets, scratching over his man's scalp after pulling out the hair tie or absentmindedly braiding it while they watch a movie. he also tugs on it to annoy Barry when he's not getting enough attention Rafe has been determined to live his house-husband dream since officially moving in but unfortunately his father's opinion still holds weight so when Ward invites (demands) him to attend a work trip, Rafe agrees to go. It's the first night he and Barry have slept a part in a long time and Rafe can't fall asleep no matter how hard he tries, tossing and turning on the expensive sheets; he puts on a movie and turns it off half-way through, gets a snack but he wasn't hungry, turns on ocean-sounds but isn't any more relaxed, even tries making a vaguely Barry-shaped body out of pillows to cuddle but nothing works. The couple talked on the phone before bed and now it's way too late to call, so Rafe whines into the fluffy pillows and gets up super early to get ready, overtired and annoyed. That night in their shared bed Rafe doesn't even wait for the book Barry's reading to be put down or the lights to be turned off, he just crawls right up the older mans body and passes out on his chest

Rafe has a whole photo album on his phone dedicated to Barry, sneaking some pictures but also wanting to look back on the ones willingly taken of them together. He loves them so much; the way Barry's hand curls around his waist, how Barry's smile is genuine and reserved only for those minutes with him, how they sound like they would be an unlikely pair but look perfect together in those shots

He also has all of Barry's favourite things written in his notes app, knowing what soup to (badly) make when Barry's not feeling well and what shampoo to buy and what team he's supposed to cheer for depending on the sport

Though Rafe obviously would prefer Barry not wear anything, seeing his man come home in coveralls and covered in dirt and oil makes him feel literally feral. Barry can barely make it to the bathroom in an attempt to clean up before Rafe is pushing into the room also his regular attire; big t-shirts, basketball shorts, surprisingly well taken care of sneakers. so different to how Rafe dresses but his man pulls it off so well and when Barry cleans up to go to a kook event on the north side...Rafe sweats all night trying to contain himself. AND chains. Rafe lives to give Barry gifts, especially when they benefit him which chains do because he gets to twist his fingers in it to guide Barry into kisses. besides, the dealer always looks so good when its swinging above Rafe's face

Rafe could write poems about Barry's southern drawl, finding his man's voice so calming and so, so sexy

Rafe's not a small guy, people intimidated by just his size. But not Barry. Barry gets in his face and puts him in his place and manhandles him, slams him against walls and tosses him on the bed like a ragdoll

Public displays of affection are very, very important to Rafe because he likes being shown off. yes, Barry is his but he wants people to know Barry chose him too

Barry works really hard and Rafe is never unappreciative, always going on about how lucky he is and how loved he feels and how well he's taken care of to anybody who will listen (most often his sisters, who affectionately roll their eyes but they love Barry too)

And of course he does the same back for Barry, letting Barry teach him to cook and clean properly, so he can take care of the house. Rafe knows it's not what Ward wants for him and society would likely frown on it, but it makes Rafe so happy making Barry's life easier

Another thing Rafe loves is how Barry isn't intimidated by Ward or Wards expectations. And the way Barry always defends Rafe when his father puts him down.

Rafe feels so safe with Barry. Every time his head gets foggy or his hands start to shake he seeks the man out like medicine, content to be held until he feels better, listening to Barry's soothing voice tell him he's alright

Rafe noticed a pattern in Barry's habits; he would leave really early for work and come home starving, and Rafe realised he would just grab something quick to run out the door with and wouldn't pack lunch so Rafe started doing it for him

Rafe knows exactly where Barry is going to be every single moment of the day. Not only is the older man's work schedules in Rafes phone, but he knows where Barry shops for books & bike parts and which gas station he stops at after work

And Rafe knows all that by following Barry around from time to time (at least twice a week) Barry suspects the stalking after he attempts to set up a special date for their anniversary and Rafe loses it and blows up his phone for not being at work, but Barry doesn't actually care either way

nothing about Barry could ever be gross to Rafe. Rafe loves Barry's hands so he licks up blood from cuts (and ignores Barry scolding him about how unsanitary it is, considering they usually come from scrap metal) and sucks on fingers with permanent stains in the creases and lets them inside his body.

there's so much about that one I can think of because literally nothing is off limits for Rafe (as long as it's just the two of them) Barry can do whatever he wants whenever he wants to the boy

literally anything Rafe steals from Barry all the time. Mostly clothes that the older man has worn a lot and carry his scent. Sometimes Rafe wears them (which Barry loves of course but this isn't about his obsessions so moving on) but usually he just hoards them in a large bag in the closet. Barry has no clue why the kook does it and doesn't really care because all his stuff is replaced by better quality items. and then stolen again, as is the cycle In the beginning when their relationship was newer and Rafe insisted on touching Barry, not caring if his own needs were being neglected, he would use the stuff he stole to get off with; smelling the shirts or wrapping boxers he made Barry come in around his dick to jerk off with. but since losing his virginity Rafe can only get off with Barry, like there's some mental block that trained him to only come from being fucked. it doesn't bother him AT ALL because it just proves to Rafe they're meant to be together forever, obviously <3

Barry doesn't really get jealous (and Rafe would never give him a reason to be) but he is just as possessive as Rafe is which means there's unspoken rules. Usually, its the older man marking Rafe up; biting and sucking bruises into fair skin and being rough enough to leave the boy walking funny the next day BUT when its Rafe who gets jealous (ex: i have a rough draft of a jealousy fic where the receptionist at Barry's job has a crush on him and posts about it online which Wheezie sees and snitches and well...) he goes a little insane. like warning Barry he'll go after whoever and meaning it, wanting to be in control when they have (kinda, cause they weren't fighting) make-up sex and letting him make some sort of permanent physical claim like scarring him up. but Barry is so good at talking him down and reassuring him afterwards <3 <3 <3 <3 Barry gets Rafe's named tattooed on him <3 <3 <3 (my fav!!) and Rafe is literally untouchable then. like feels on top of the world, so happy and in love and needy, too. the tattoo needs to heal but Rafe wants to put his hands and his mouth all over it, take pictures of it, stare openly for hours because Barry is really his

Rafe craves Barry's body in more ways than just sexual (though that's a big one, very important to them) he loves worshipping every inch of tanned skin, running the tips of his fingers and his tongue over scars again and again, never giving Barry a chance to be insecure about anything & being so close, wrapped up in strong arms and made to feel safe kinda goes along with the stealing one/gross one but Rafe wants to be all over Barry at all times no matter what and is obsessed with the way he smells. the smell of his shampoo/deodorant/cologne, yeah that's all fine but Rafe likes when Barry comes home from work and needs to shower, that's the scent and taste that drives him wild. and he nuzzles into Barry's hair to breath in lungfuls and licks up sweat

I could probably go on forever <3 thanks for asking these, they make me happy <3

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 19: taken

She and Avery have been together for a while. Rita thinks she’s probably getting a decent enough handle on this dating thing, considering she’s never done it before.

(“What th’ fuck,” Gan says when she mentions that. “What about Emm?...what do you mean, not th’ same thing?!” But it isn’t. This is serious. She and Avery live together, fight together, have faced down the end of the world together. He may not have her near-bottomless well of aether, may not have been Hydaelyn’s Champion first, but his is the seat of Azem—alone among the Scions, alone among all the men of the world, he is the one she trusts on the battlefield. And because he is kind and patient and good—because he calls her my lady and means it—she trusts him with her heart as well.)

(It is absolutely not the same thing as when she was with Emmanellain de Fortemps.)

They’re in Tural for two days when she realizes she might have a problem. Not with Avery—gods, no, even in this beautiful land filled with new and exciting people, he only has eyes for her. (Sometimes literally. When she debuts a new swimsuit he nearly trips off the edge of the For’ard Cabins pier.) She knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is loyal.

No, her problem is with everyone else.

Wuk Lamat shrugs cheerfully when she brings it up. “There aren’t a lot of elezen here! Avery’s just...new. Exotic! Like I was in Sharlayan!”

Rita narrows her eyes at her. “When you were in Sharlayan, you were single.”

“What does that have to do with...oh. Oh. Right.” Wuk Lamat certainly understands when flirtation is directed at her—though watching her try to flirt back is an exercise in torture—but when it comes to other people, well, the subtext has to be delivered with a sledgehammer. “But he’s so—I mean, no offense, but he’s so spindly.”

“Your fellow Tuliyollans don’t think so,” Rita growls. (Technically untrue; spindly is certainly an accurate description next to a Xbr’aal or a Hanuhanu or even most Mamool Ja, and she and Avery and the twins have gotten a lot of extra portions foisted on them by locals who think they need to eat more. But that’s not the part she’s complaining about.)

They’re sitting at a little table outside Aunt Tii’s, drinks in hand. Avery’s in line—it is a long line—to fetch them lunch. It’s an Ishgardian thing, Rita had explained, and then Wuk Lamat had asked her what Ishgard was like and that conversation had lasted them until Avery was three people away from the counter and Rita had looked up to see a Tonawawtan woman leaning over from behind Avery to put her hand on his arm, gazing softly up at him and asking something about where he was from, he was so tall...

Rita sets her piña colada down, takes a deep breath, and adjusts her bra straps.

“Oh no,” Wuk Lamat says.

Her ears are pinned back, but only the Xbr’aal here will know what that means. She rises from her seat like the tide. “I’m not gonna hurt anyone,” she says evenly.

She doesn’t have to. No, instead she saunters over to where Avery is, setting each foot in front of the other in a way she knows emphasizes the curve of her hips. It’s immensely gratifying to watch Avery turn to watch her, a smile tugging at his lips, but that’s not why she’s doing it. No, she leans against him, draped against his side with his hand coming to rest on her waist, and says, “Love, refresh my memory. Did I order th’ shrimp tacos?”

Avery blinks at her. She knows what he’s probably thinking—that she rarely forgets anything, not least because she writes everything down. “You did; why?”

She shrugs. “Wanted to make sure. The table next to ours had some and they look incredible. Think we can get extra salsa?”

He peers over the tops of his glasses, doing that little squint he does when something is at the exact wrong distance for his farsighted gaze and yet too far for the glasses to help. “Aunt Tii seems not to have run out yet.”

She grins, sharp and not aimed at him. The Tonawawtan woman has shrunk back, red-faced, and Rita spares a moment to flick her the coldest glance she can. Back off, her eyes say. He’s mine.

Her mouth, on the other hand, says, “Grand! Extra salsa for me, then. Th’ mild stuff, I don’t wanna accidentally kill you.”

Avery’s ears turn red. “I am perfectly capable of handling spice—”

She grins up at him, twining a lock of his hair around her finger. “I know. But we can’t cheer Wuk Lamat at her coronation if your mouth’s on fire.”

They order the mild salsa. By the time they’ve got their tacos, everyone trying bites of everyone else’s—Wuk Lamat’s pulled xibruq is the clear winner—Rita’s almost entirely forgotten having to stake her claim.

She does sit a little closer to Avery than she normally does, though. Just in case.

[leggerefiore]

So there a hat called Square Cap Elefish in Scarlet/Violet that has a design based off eelektross. What if s/o saw it while on the internet and thought they should get one for Emmet-

perfect timing, anon. i was just pondering a scenario to write for em

debated buying it for inka but decided she's more of a beanie girl (it'd still fit her though)

cw: fluff

------

It had caught your eye as you were scrolling endlessly through your social media. A group of Paldean people just doing things and their pokemon out with them. It was not their foreign pokemon that caught your attention, however. (Though, you would admit, the samba peacock poses were something you were a bit envious of.) It was the hat on one of their heads. A square cap with a certain familiar pokemon's pattern on it. That certain familiar pokemon happened to be sprawled across your lap at the moment, too, in fact. Rubbing your hand affectionately on the slimy skin of the creature who gave an electric hum through his body, you immediately set out to find that cap.

It would be a perfect gift for Emmet.

~

You grinned as you saw sneaked into the station. A gift for him would be best given after all his battles for the day were finished, and he was whining about the actual managerial duties he had to do. Sitting on the office couch, you felt certain you had managed to avoid every Depot Agent save for the one in the office area, who you knew would comply with your plan. The cute box sat in your lap with carefully tied white ribbon on its lid.

Pleading with Emmet's Galvantula for some silk, she agreed and gave you some, which you quickly fashioned into a ribbon. You shuddered when something seemed to try to squirm its way into your sleeve. Moving your arm away to a point where you could peer at it, four blue eyes stared at you innocently. A stowaway. The Joltik was plucked away and placed on your shoulder. If there was one thing that was inescapable while living with Emmet, it was his Joltiks. They were literally everywhere.

Outside the door, you heard quick, paced strides heading your way. It was quiet, save for a polite greeting shared by them and the Depot Agent. It was either another agent or your boyfriend, as Ingo tended to hold people hostage in conversation for a moment. The door handled turned and a white-coated man entered with a certain Galvantula clinging to his waist. You barely held back a giggle.

“Hello, Emmet,” you said with as much monotony as you could manage. He actually jumped for a moment before turning over to you. His eyes relaxed, and his smile shifted from its momentary tenseness to its normal playfulness.

“Darling! Verrrry mean,” he teased you before walking over, “Hmm? What's that?” His attention lied on the present in your lap. You held it out to him, and he quickly acted to take it. It was held close to him as he worked to undo the ribbon. When he finally did that, he popped the lid off and looked inside. He hummed curiously at the sight before placing the box down. His white cap was taken from his head.

Placed on his head, now in its place was the Elefish cap. “Mmm, not very work appropriate,” he noted. You would agree that the more casual hat certainly did not mix with his business formal attire. It did suit his face, however. “I could wear it later. Yep! During our dates,” he nodded to himself. You smiled.

“Do you like it then?” you asked him with a tilt of your head. He nodded at you this time and grinned brightly. A specific aged pokeball on his belt was removed, and the creature inside was tossed out. Eeelektross floated just above the ground and looked around. Emmet's hand immediately went to pet his beloved starter.

“Heehee, we're matching again after all these years,” he giggled and pointed to his hat. The eel stared at him before wrapping its body around his leg. Galvantula hissed at the creature and scuttled away from Emmet. Ah. The girls were fighting. Eelektross's arms went around Emmet's torso. He smiled down at his beloved eel. “Aww! I don't think you have been this clingy in a while,” he cooed.

You had to admit he looked adorable with his starter that he had known for so many years cuddling him and the matching hat on his head.

Emmet's head looked up at you as grinned at you. “Thank you, honey,” his voice was soft as it usually was, “You made Eelmmet verrrry happy.”

“Oh, Emmy, it was no problem –” you were going to express your feelings when something hit you like a tonne of bricks, “E-Eelmmet?”

“His name is Eelmmet.”

“Emmet, sweetheart, baby, please be joking.”

[backslashdelta]

fic line to guess: "Sebastian looks at him for a moment, silently, and Kurt sees his eyes flick down to his lips, then back up to his eyes for just a moment before he can taste Sebastian's lips, because the other man has closed the distance between them."

Oh good, Kurt and Sebastian kissing. Such a very unique thing to happen in so few of my fics this will be very easy to narrow down.

NOT.

Fuck me I am so bad at this shittt. Hmm.

Shot in the dark: Echoes of You. I don't think it's their first kiss because I'm pretty sure Kurt initiated that, but it could be when they're in Sebastian's apartment together.

WELP I was wrong. Kurt initiates that time too (which I was also pretty sure of, but thought this still could have happened at some point in that chapter). So already I've lost but I'm going to try to figure it out anyway.

My next guess was Unsteady, because that's Kurt wanting a distraction from Sebastian, so Sebastian may have taken a silent moment to consider Kurt and then kissed him. BUT that one is also wrong.

I'm pretty sure it's not Notes of an Old Mistake because I think Kurt initiates there as well (I'm correct - it's nice to be right about SOMETHING at least smh).

I'm giving up. I have no idea. This could be a line from just about any Kurtbastian fic I've written.

Enjoy your fucking drabble <3

"Can you put your arms out like this, please?" Kurt asks, holding his arms up and to his side to demonstrate. "Sure thing babe," the model, Sebastian, replies easily, lifting his arms. Kurt flushes a little, hoping Sebastian won't noticed. The other man doesn't say anything if he does. Since the moment Sebastian had walked into the room, he'd made it clear he was interested in Kurt. From the way he watched him to all the small (and not so small) comments, his intentions were clear. And it's not that Kurt wasn't attracted to him - he's literally a model, of course he's attractive, and Kurt is a man who likes men, he has eyes - it's that Kurt has a policy of not fraternizing with models. He'd been burned once before, and it was very messy, and he'd sworn it would never happen again. So he's been ignoring all the passes Sebastian has been making at him, hoping that the other man will get the hint eventually and give it up. But he's either very oblivious or very determined, because so far he's had no such luck. Kurt finishes measuring around his chest and waist. "You can put your arms down now," he says. Sebastian drops his arms to his sides. "Do you like bossing people around? You seem like the kind of guy people don't mind taking orders from. I certainly wouldn't mind." "I'm just trying to do my job," he says, flushing again. He crouches down in front of Sebastian, tape measure in hand, to continue his measurements, thankful for the excuse to no longer be eye level with the other man. He's taking Sebastian's inseam measurement before he realizes this is probably a worse position. "I can take the rest of my clothes off for this, if that would make your job easier," Sebastian offers not-so-helpfully. Kurt chooses not to respond to that particular remark, instead continuing on with his other measurements. Sebastian doesn't say too much more, just stays where he is and let's Kurt finish. When Kurt's done, he stands and walks to his desk, dropping the tape measure and his notebook there. "We're done here," he says, turning back to look at Sebastian. "We'll need you back next week for your fitting." "It's a date," Sebastian says with a wink as he grabs his shirt to pull on over his head. "It's definitely not," Kurt replies, though he can feel his cheeks burning. "Maybe not," Sebastian concedes, and Kurt thinks that maybe Sebastian is finally getting the hint before he continues, "but we'll get there eventually. I'm very, very good at getting what I want."

[missionaria-protectiva]

I really like that you delved into Aemond's pov during the eye incident, 'cause in the show he seemed so calm and collected (although it shouldn't be a kid's job to "pacify" the others), and it kinda left me wondering what was actually going through his mind and his heart. He was merely a 10-year-old when it happened; he had his eye taken out in a brutal way, only his mother stood up for him... the anger and pain he feels are not only justified, but also worth exploring!

Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

the fact that he's self-conscious and feels the need to hide is so heartbreaking!! 😭😭 I think this habit was forced upon him because the people around him just didn't protect and support him.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

the self-loathing is so real... and it totally distorts how he views himself.

But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name.

he's literally trying to compensate for something that wasn't even his fault!! he was left completely alone!! I'm ripping my hairs out!!

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

this is beautiful imagery!!

The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

the moment he sobers up... CHILLING

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away.

imo the pain was also caused by the Velaryons' visit... as though Aemond's reliving his trauma whenever they're mentioned and/or around him.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts [...]

CLOCKED

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

Viserys doing copium as always

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

oooof, the angst HURT, but it was delicious, and I'm totally not saying this 'cause reader was there to comfort Aemond!! 😩😩

the recurring theme of the labyrinth....

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

AEMOND NO DON'T PUSH HER AWAY WHAT THE HELL

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

okokok she's calming him down, we're still flying half a ship!

WORK, I love me some good smut to seal the deal 🫡🫡

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed [...]

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LONGEST YEAH BUOY EVER

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

OH, OH, OH that's what it means!! me rn:

this was lovely!! what a masterpiece!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[editorandchief]

Homelander saving a blind!fem!reader (she's not totally blind, she just see a very very very color blurred and she can't see peoples face at all) from being assaulted? And he just fell in love w her and well... Homelander is Homelander (or in other words, start an obssesion w her and stalks her)???

Sorry for my awful english, im trying haha :(((

Warning: none

Requested: yeppers, I love requests 🥰😍😘

Landing at the scene of the crime in progress Homelander lets go of Maeve once both her feet were secure on the ground Black Noir appeared next to him almost out of nowhere as A-Train came to a halt with him Starlight and the deep. 

Vought thought it would be great promo for the newest 'Seven' movie if the team was seen working...well as a team. 

"What's the situation?" Maeve asked walking up to the group of officers. 

"Apparently one of the patients of this shrink is holding her hostage in there." One of the cops answered. "Her assistant called the cops after she heard yelling and a gun shot."

The assistant in question came rushing towards the supes, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god you have to help her," She cried. "He has her in there and these pigs are just standing around." 

"Hey!" One of the cops yelled. Maeve put her arm around the women and pulled her closer to the team while glaring that the police officer.

"Okay I'm gonna need you to tell us everything you know." Maeve smiled. 

"My boss Dr. Y/N L/N one of her patents Greg...J-Juniper, I don't know exactly what's wrong with him but I've heard him a couple of time bitching about his wife leaving him or something." She explained a glare having taken over her tear stained face. "That son of bitch if he hurts her-."

"I'm sure Dr. L/N will be fine," Starlight steps in. "Is there anything else we should know?" 

"She's blind," The assistant informed. "Well not all the way blind but she can't see thing well just 'moving blob of color' or at least that what she calls it."

"Alright ma'am thank you so much for all your help you have been so brave." Homelander steps in showing off his pearly whites. 

He was beyond done with this whole situation, a hostage, a literal hostage not even hostages. This was the big mission that needed all "The Seven'? There couldn't have been an orphanage on fire or some shit."

He was going to be having a long talk with someone when he got back to Vought.

"Okay A-Train," Homelander called prompting the speedster to approach him, hands on his hips a charming smile on his face as onlookers snapped pics. "I'm gonna need you to use your speed and disarm the suspect." 

"You got it boss." He replied with a small nod. 

Lowering his voice Homelander placed a hand on his shoulder speaking through his fake smile. "And if you could do that without popping anyone like a fucking balloon that would be great." He finished with a small pat on his shoulder. "Noir and I will have your six." He said, once again raising his voice to reach the ears of the public.

The three supes entered the front lobby of the therapist office seeing movement behind the opaque  double doors that lead into the office.  

Alright lets get this over with," Homelander states once the doors connecting them to the outside world had finally slammed shut. "Noir bag 'em and tag 'em." 

As instructed A-Train sped through the door of the office, running over and snatching the gun from the patients hand. not long after Noir was yanking the man down to the ground before tying his hand behind his back. 

Still having a grip on Y/N when all this happened cause he to also be yanked to the ground. 

Walking slowly over to the women Homelander looks down at her as she looks around the room while slowly attempting to stand on her feet. 

"It's alright now ma'am," Homelander said causing her head to snap toward him. "We're gonna get you out of here." Placing his hand around her waist he moves to grab her legs only for her to step away upon feeling his hands touch the back of her knee. 

"That won't be necessary ." She said with a small frown. "I may not be able to see that well I can walk."

"Of course you can." Homelander replied sending her a small smile only after realizing she probably couldn't see it.

Keeping his hand around her waist he guided her out the front door of the building Noir and A-Train following close behind Noir with the patent and A-Train holding the gun like some sort of trophy. 

As soon as they stepped out the crowd burst into cheers, claps and snapping pictures. 

"Y/N!" The assistant called out rushing forward. "Y/N, oh god are you okay? Are you hurt? Did that bitch hurt you?" She asked practically pulling her from out of Homelander's reach. 

"I'm fine Jen," Y/N replied with a laugh as her assistant began twisting and turning her to check for injures. "Just a bit shaken up, I had no idea Greg was so far gone. There has to have been a stresser."

"No no don't make excuses for him." She scolded rolling her eyes locking eyes with the leader of the supe team. "Oh godness and you guys thank you so much, I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to her." 

Homelander smiled at the show of gratitude from the women, especially while the camera's were rolling, he couldn't have wrote it better himself. "There's no need to thank us ma'am, just doing our job."

"No, Jen is right," Y/N replied turning towards his voice. "I'm so thankful for what you've done for me."

After that the crowd began throwing 'questions' and snapping pictures, although Y/N couldn't see the best she most defiantly saw the flashing lights.

'Y/N Was there anything else going on between you and the assailant?'

'How does it feel to have been saved by 'The Seven'.'

'Do you fear that the suspect will come after you again if released?'

"Wow this is alot." Y/N said to the Homelander still in his place next to her. "It has to get a bit overwhelming at some point."

"Well you know, I can't complain." He brushed it off. 

"Of course you can." She replied. "It doesn't matter what people think of you, you have the right to feel how you feel."

Looking down at the young women Homelander didn't know what to say. No one had ever told him that he should/could feel his feelings, because most of the time whenever he felt his feeling people died, mostly he was told he needed to suck it up and put on a bright face for the camera, for the people, for the ratings. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She assured. "It'll be our little secret." 

"Ma'am." A voice called as a hand is laid on her shoulder taking her attention away from him, he didn't like that. "We'd just like to make sure everything is okay." Looking over to the person Homelander finds a paramedic. 

"Oh I'm really fine." Y/N starts to protest only to be cut off. 

"Nope, you're letting them take a look at you." 'Jen' the assistant insisted. 

"Fine fine." She said holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Thank you again." She said before she was led away throw the crowd towards the ambulance.

*-*-*

On her way to work the next week Y/N was more exited than she ever had been, after spending the rest of the week listening to music and podcasts, returning to work seemed like a dream come true though that thought would probably change as soon as she got there. 

Stopping abruptly Y/N took a few steps back as her body connected with another.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized to the blue blob that was standing in front of her. 

"It's quite alright." The figure replied. "It's good to see you again Dr. L/N."

"Homelander?" Y/N asked tilting her head a bit. 

"Guilty," The blonde supe replied. "I was just flying by and I happened to see you and thought I should check in to see how things were going." He lied. 

The truth was Homelander had been watching her every spear moment he got, telling himself it was only to make sure she was safe, he watched her listen to her music and podcasts half the time wondering what her fascination with SCP files were the other half worried that she was going to bump into something, trip and crack her head open. He had to be there to make sure she was safe.

She could barely fucking see of course she couldn't take care of herself, despite watching her do just that Homelander had convinced himself that it was his job to take care of her that she wanted him to take care of her, she was just too prideful to ask seeing that it was her job to help people not ask for help. 

"That's very kind of you," Y/N complemented. "I was actually just on my way to work."

"You're going back to work already?" Homelander asked with a frown. "Don't you think it's a bit too soon?" 

"Not soon enough I was getting a bit stir-crazy stuck at home all day." She laughed. "Speaking of which I have an early appointment and I really have to get going." She said giving a small nod before heading off towards the office.

An appointment with another person who could be just as crazy as Greg, someone that could walk right in past that fucking airhead Jen and do god know what to her.

Watching her walk down the street Homelander could feel himself becoming more and more frustrated as he couldn't think of a way to keep her from going to the office, at least not today. 

*-*-*

"Knock knock." Y/N heard as she sat her desk eating her lunch when she hear the door open. 

"Homelander." She replied as he walked towards her desk.

"You've memorized my voice." He notes a smile stretching across his face. 

"Yep, one of my mini talents." She joked. "what can I do for you?" She asked wondering what had prompted her second encounter with the supe. 

"Is that all you're having for lunch?" He asked looking at the single skinless orange in her hand.

"Yeah I was too lazy to think of things to eat and Jen gave me this orange so..." 

"Hmmm." Squinting his eyes not really liking her answer. "What a lovely office space you have here. If you don't mind me asking, Do you own it?" 

"Oh no, this used to be an accounts office and after he retired he put the space up for rent." She answered placing a slice of orange in her mouth. "I've been renting it for about two years." 

"An accountant?" Homelander pressed in hopes of getting the answer he was looking for. 

"Yes, Mr. Kline." She smiles at the thought of the sweet old man.  "Says once he has enough money he'd sell me the building and buy a nice little farm house for him and his wife, not really a fan of the big city anymore." She explained. A soft chime rang though the room before Y/N quickly reached for her phone and tapped the screen.

"Break times over." She sighed. 

*-*-*

It took three weeks! Three fucking weeks to get that old bastard to sell the office space that he rented to Y/N to Vought for a more than generous amount.

Soon Jen would so up to the office only to find the locks have been changed, she'll try to call Mr. Kline to find out what's going on but his phone will have been disconnected. Y/N will show up and Jen will frantically read her the letter that was slid in between the crack of the door, informing them that it would be in their best interest to come to Vought Tower.

"Homelander Sir." The Vought employee entered the meeting room. "I was told to inform you when anyone came asking about the office space...someone came...about the office space." he stated nervously. 

"Send them up."

Homelander watched as the two women entered the room cautiously arms looped together as if someone would try to pry them apart. 

"Y/N." Homelander greeted cheerfully with a bright smile. "I'm go glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry I don't think I can say the same." She replied frowning in his direction. "You bought my office space and changed the locks? Why would you do that? Did I do something...something to make you upset with me?" She asked shaking her head slightly in disappointment.

"No no of course not," He denied. "Please have a seat and I will explain everything." Jen led Y/N over to the pair of seat closest to Homelander. 

"I know I should have talked about this with you before but I just couldn't get it out of my head." Homelander started. "I didn't grow up in the city, in fact I grew up in a small farm house, and once you told me about Mr. Kline I just knew I had to help-."

"Wait, you bought Mr. Kline his farmhouse?" Jen interrupted causing Homelander to clench his jaw in anger. 

"Yes....Jennifer, as I was saying." He answered. "And Mr. Kline signed over the deed to the office space as long as I promised that you would be treated right." 

"So I still have an office." Y/N sighed finally able now to relax a bit. 

"Absolutely, though there are going to be a few changed in your rental agreement." Homelander stated pushing over a manila folder which was taken by Jen as she began reading along with him. "I noticed that your hours are Monday-Friday 7am to 7pm, a bit long don't you think?" Homelander asked rhetorically.

"No actually I th-."  

"Monday-Wednesday 8am to 5pm will be the updates office hours." He continued ignoring Y/N attempt to respond. "All past, present and future clients will go though a mandatory background check before their next session. At least two Vought security agents will be monitoring the building during the newly stated business hours. A balanced lunch shall be provided and must be eaten within the mandated lunch hour."

"I don't need an hour for lu-."

"Farther more any patent seen as hostile, agitated or aggressive will be treats as a threat by the above listed Vought security agents. Failure to comply with said rule and regulations may result consequence varying from reduction of business hours to eviction."

"Eviction!" Y/N raised her voice for the first time, in Homelander's experience. "Excuse me for saying but this is ridiculous! You cut my business hours by more than half, my clients expect a certain amount of privacy when coming in for there session, they also expect not to be treated like criminals if they get agitated because if you haven't noticed I practice therapy and I have absolutely no clue what our eating habit have anything to do with renting us this building."  

"There are other building in New York you know?" Jen spoke up. "I'm sure we can find another office." 

"Not for nearly as low as you are paying now." Homelander rebuttals, turning his attention back to Y/N placing a hand on her shoulder. "Look I'm not trying to be the bad buy, this building is now an affiliate of Vought and therefore has to be held to a certain standard, in the future I'm sure some alterations can be made to some of the minor stipulations."

"Minor." Y/N scoffs.

"Look everyone is a bit on edge right now, how about we give it a few hours and you can decide what you are comfortable with and we can talk about we can be changed." Homelander offered. "What do you say...tonight, I'll pick you up at around 8:00 and we can discuss over dinner?" 

Taking a few moments to think Y/N nodded her head before answering. "Fine." 

"Great." Homelander smiles. "I don't know about you but  think this is the start to a beautiful relationship."