#i believe i saw them after he took the body away

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Enemies (Part Four) (Rafe Cameron)

Description: Takes place during episode 9

Word Count: 1,820

Warning: Smut

Part One Part Two Part Three

The arms around her kept her safe. Nobody and no thought could hurt her when she was in these arms. A savior or even an angel that was sent to protect her from harm's way. The arms that were keeping her safe through the night belong to Rafe Cameron. 

Her eyes opened and she groaned as her body ached of sweet release and pain. She sighed and snuggled back into the arms of Rafe. ��Rafe.” She tried to say but her voice was scratchy thanks to him. He chuckled and kissed the back of her head.

She turned in his arms and faced him with a glare. “Pretty awesome way to lose your voice.” He states with a cocky smirk. “Screaming my name as I fuck you over and over again.” He teased knowing her body wasn’t up for it. “You’re a dick.” She managed out but there was a playfulness to her tone. She leaned over and kissed him with a smile on her face. 

The Pogues hadn’t heard from her in a few days. They didn’t even see her run and they didn’t even know that she was with Rafe. But as much as they loved her they were glad she was not there with them. Running from the cops.

JJ was okay but both him and Pope were in big trouble. Sarah wanted to tell her the big secret but hoped that she was okay. Y/N had no idea that her friends were in danger while she fucked the enemy. 

Hollis was dead and Rafe was pacing around the living room. Y/N on the couch watching him. “It wasn’t JJ.” Rafe said like he for sure knew. “It was Groff and he took my money.” Y/N knew that it wasn’t JJ but the Groff thing kind of surprised her.

Rafe told her everything about Hollis and Groff. “Okay so we should go tell the police.” She told him. “Yeah but first let’s take a walk.” He says and she smiles. 

“I can’t believe JJ did that.” Y/N whispered. Rafe grabbed her hand and she didn’t pull away. She stared at the ground as they walked when Rafe noticed the cops. “Quick over here.” She gasped as she saw her friends trying to steal a boat. “Rafe.” She whispered. They ducked down and could hear them talk. “They know where Groff is.” She whispered. “Don’t make it known you're here.” He warns her as the cops try to arrest them. She smiled as she saw them take their boat. Her friends were dumbasses but she loved them. 

“So you’ll take us to look for the treasure?” She asked with hope in her eyes. “I want my money but if that’s what it takes then yes.” He plays with the ring he has in his pocket that was his moms. He knew it was too soon so he was gonna take it with them just in case. “I’ll get the cops off their back and I’ll take you guys to wherever Groff is at.” He promises. She kisses him as a thank you and puts her hope and faith into him. He pulls away from the kiss, “Do you know where they are hiding?” 

Shoupe arrives before Rafe and Y/N do and he’s about to take away JJ and Pope. They had no other end and no saving or plan at this point. Sarah gasps as she sees Y/N and her brother? “Y/N?” She asks in shock and everyone turns to see her and Rafe.

  Her nerves about what they would think did not hit until they noticed her. She knew of Rafe’s plan but they did not. “I can take them to get Groff.” Everyone besides Y/N was shocked at his words. He had convinced Shoupe to let them go and find Groff. After Shoupe had left the others turned to Y/N, “So that’s where you were?” Kie asked.

Y/N’s face was red, this wasn’t how she wanted them to find out. “Look I was keeping her safe while you guys were out being criminals.” He put an arm around Y/N who didn’t push him away. “Look we can talk about this later we got a crown to find.” John B said. 

The boat was huge and nothing like she’s ever stayed on. All of the Pogues were happy that this was happening but felt uneasy around Rafe. “I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t trust him. We don’t trust him.” JJ said. “He got us this boat and is taking us to find the treasure. He doesn’t want it, He wants the money Groff took from him.” She exclaims. Rafe could hear them and he smiled at her words.

“Y/N do you actually believe that?” John B asked her. Sure Rafe wasn’t such a good person but after everything with JJ and Groff it wasn’t unbelievable that he would do something like that. “Yes. Groff is shitty.” “That doesn’t mean that Rafe isn’t lying.” She sighs. “Then go talk to him.” She told the group. “Except you.” She said to JJ who looked at her in disbelief. “I agree with her on that one.” Kie said. Everyone besides JJ goes to Rafe who was stirring the boat.

“Rafe.” Y/N said his name and he turned to find everyone with her. She walked up to him and let John B talk. Peace was never an option with JJ who knocked Rafe out. “JJ!” Y/N yelled at him. She got on the ground to check on him. “I would have done it if he didn’t.” Pope said, causing Y/N to glare. “I’m sorry Y/N but we don’t trust your boyfriend.” “He doesn’t want the crown! He wants the money that Groff took from him!” She yelled at her friends. “Why don’t you believe me?” “It’s not you, we don’t believe it’s him.” 

Rafe woke up and was tied up. Sarah decided to bring him the food. “They don’t trust you, Rafe. Only Y/N does.” “I want to see her.” He tells her. “She won’t untie you.” Though Y/N really wanted to. “Let me see her.” He said, ignoring her. Sarah sighs and gets Y/N.

Y/N walks in the room and sits by him. “I want to let you go but they would kill me or you might kill them.” He chuckled at her words. “I told you I wanted to be a better person. You’re making that easy but they are making that hard.” She lays her head on his shoulder and sighs, “I wish that they could see that you’re telling the truth.”

Though she knew that they had no right too. He did awful things to them so why would they? Sarah had said that to him and it stuck in his mind. Y/N stayed down there with him until she was hungry, she told him that she would be back later and before he could protest, she was gone. 

“Why him?” Kie asked as she and Sarah ate with Y/N. “There is so much I never told you guys.” She told them everything. How Rafe approached her at a party and would never leave her alone. How he would constantly follow her even when she tried to push him away. How he asked her to be with him multiple times. How he was there for her.

“Wow.” Kie said and Sarah gave her a little smile. “Depending on how this goes. I might give you my blessing.” They all laugh. “So wait, are you guys together?” Kie asked. Truth be told they never put a label on it but it seemed as if they were. “Well yeah. I would take what’s going on between us like that.” She shrugged. 

“So I was thinking that since you’re tied up and you can’t do anything I will do this.” He gasps as she unzips his pants. “You’re being serious right now?” He asked. She didn’t respond and pulled out his dick, which was very hard. She looks up at him, “You’re asking me that? I’m not the one who’s hard as a rock.” She teases and runs her thumb over the tip.

He sucks in a deep breath as her hand moves up and down his dick. She watches him as he bites his lip to keep from moaning. The others did not need to know what was going on. Her hand moves faster and he lets out a little whimper, “shit.” She smirks and lowers her head until his tip was near her mouth.

Her hand slowing down. He thrusts his hips up and she sits up again, “Rafe you aren’t in any position to call the shots.” She teases and he huffs. “Come on Y/N.” He begs. Her hand stops moving and Rafe almost whines. “I have THE Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron whining for me to suck his cock.” She says and lays down so that she is on her stomach. Her hands placed on his thighs as licks up his dick. He sighs in pleasure at the feeling.

She smirks and takes the tip in her mouth. Her tongue ran along it. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as she finally gave him what he wanted. His dick was finally in her mouth as she gave him the craziest blowjob of his life. She hummed on him causing the vibration to shoot straight up his body.

Oh how he wished that he could run his hands through her hair. He was moaning like he was in heat as his high was approaching. “Fuck Y/N. I’m close!” He moaned out. She didn’t stop until he was cumming down her throat. She pulled off of him and swallowed every drop he gave her. She wiped her mouth and sighed. “That was kinky” She said and he laughed.

“That was hot.” He said and she leaned in and kissed him. But before their lips could touch the boat started going crazy. “What the hell?” He said. She went to get up and check but fell down and the red alert went off. “I have to get you free.” She said and tried standing again. She gripped the wall for support and went out the door.

“Kie hand me a knife.” Kie looked for one in the drawers and gave it to her. Y/N got back to Rafe and cut him loose. They made their way out of there and to the others. She heard John B yelling and ran out to where he was, Rafe following her. “Sarah.” Rafe yelled and tears built up in Y/N’s eyes. She saw JJ throw a raft in the water and tell Sarah he was coming. “JJ it’s too dangerous.” Y/N yells at him but he jumps in the water. Y/N watches as the waves cover her friends and she lets out a sob. Rafe pulls her to his chest as she starts screaming and crying all over again. 

[roboticutie]

It's a side-mission that I don't think many end up doing, at least from the lack of talking about it I see, but still. The figurines. If you succeed a check in the pawn shop, you can take a figurine of a headless soldier on a horse. If you've done that, when you inspect the stained glass Dolores Dei you can get the task to give her any and all figurines you can find. Perhaps you can one day. Even when you get this task, though, it feels odd- it confuses your Logic because Dei has long since passed, but... Maybe you can give her these gifts somehow? You can find another figurine in the unplayable Wirral expansion pack (I only found it bc I didn't know you couldn't play Wirral w Kim). There are only these 2, according to the wiki, and I have not found more.

This task is another moment where the writers really manage to emulate that feeling of not only loss, but lost-ness that you get a few times in the game. When I did this task I thought it would be something extraordinary, maybe vaguely supernatural as there are a few things confirmed to be unexplainable happening with and around Harry, y'know? I had hope and intrigue and didn't even realize how strange and rare it must be to get this task on accident bc after typing it out I realized the starting parameters were VERY specific and easy to miss, actually. And I was so excited to find who to give it to, maybe a lost shrine, or someone reaching through a spot of pale and time, maybe when I found 3 or 5 I could lay them at her shattered feet and look behind the glass, something odd and unexplainable.

Then I met her in the dream. And just before it ended I was reminded that I'm supposed to give Dei the figurines. And that's when it dawned on me what Harry had forgotten, and I knew what he'd done to his memory of Dora by combining the two, and... It was so sobering and desolate. It felt the same way the end of a party feels, when you're the last to leave. The balloons are still up, but there's streamers on the floor, crumbs on the plates, bowls of snacks emptied, walls that held and echoed laughter are silent. The after image of something amazing, left only with the memory and the knowledge that that moment will never, ever happen the same way again.

You fulfill this task by giving all found figurines to Dora in the final dream.

And it does nothing. It doesn't work. Nothing will work. She would have liked them once, but like Dei, that Dora is dead. She died years ago and the Dora that remains is far, far away now.

Just like when I had no idea the carriage was Harry's until Kim spelled it out for us 2 hours later after chatting and whistling and relaxing; the figurines made what Harry was feeling and going through dawn on me so personally. I can't explain it in words well enough. I was so disappointed the figurines weren't some greater purpose, I was sad this was all we were holding onto them for, I was disappointed in Harry for trying to use trinkets to win her back, I was upset that they didn't do anything good, she didn't even want them; and I knew that's what Harry felt in that moment, too.

It's a level of "Show, don't tell," that not many writers set themselves up to be able to achieve. Even in this game there are only a handful of moments that are able to put you into Harry's headspace so precisely, and all of them are very specific and rely heavily on context given or lost on the player. It's impressive. I think about those figurines a lot.

[wholoveseggs]

Homecoming

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen x Reader} You haven't seen your husband since your passionate wedding night, leaving you to doubt his love. Now, three months later, you're round with child and missing him more than ever—until he suddenly returns.

♡♡ This is purely just to get all my daddy Daemon feelings out, I 100% believe he has a breeding kink. ♡♡

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, major breeding kink, slow sex, so so so much fluff, a little bit of angst and Daemon apologizing in bed...

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

It was another quiet night, in a bed far too large for one. The wind was gently blowing through the curtains, bringing with it a cool breeze and the smell of the sea. It was late, and everyone was asleep, yet you laid awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

You rolled over onto your side, the silk of the sheets sliding against your bare skin. These days, sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tried. If it wasn't your thoughts keeping you up, it was your changing body and the ever growing life inside of you.

Three months ago you had gotten married to the prince Daemon, a dream of many girls across the kingdom. But your marriage was hardly that. The day after the ceremony you woke up in an empty bed, and hadn't seen your husband since, leaving you to wonder if you had done something wrong.

He had left you no letter, no message. Nothing. Only the memory of your wedding night, the way he touched and kissed you, his sweet whispers of adoration as he made you his. On the loneliest days you would close your eyes and remember it all, his lips on yours, the way his fingers caressed you, the feel of him inside you.

You place your hand on the small bump of your stomach, a smile spreading across your lips. Although it had only been one night, he did his duty and you were pregnant. A piece of him was always with you.

But it wasn't enough.

You longed to see him again, to touch him and be held by him, to tell him of the life growing within you. You wanted so desperately to be with him, but instead you were left with the ghost of his love, a memory that wasn't enough to fill the hole in your heart.

You sighed, trying to push away those thoughts, and attempted to fall asleep, but every time you closed your eyes all you could see was his handsome face. You opened them again and sat up, staring into the darkness.

You could see the light of a torch through the cracks of the door, and the sound of footsteps. You knew exactly who it was, the guard outside your door. His shift was almost over, and soon a new one would be out there, watching over you. There was a muffled conversation, and the sound of someone walking away.

A few moments later the door cracked open, and the torch light poured into the room. Your eyes squinted at the sudden brightness, and as the person entered the room they shut the door.

You were about to give your guard a kindly lecture on waking you up when you noticed that it wasn't the guard who had walked in, but a hooded man. You opened your mouth to call for help, but before you could get a sound out he was at your bedside, his hand covering your mouth.

"Don't scream, my love, it's me." He whispered.

You blinked at the voice, your mind taking a second to process what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you reached for his hand. He took it away from your mouth and intertwined your fingers together, his other hand pulling down his hood.

"Daemon." You breathed, looking up at his face.

The torchlight casted a warm glow on his handsome features, highlighting his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, hanging past his shoulders, his eyes were dark and clever, looking you over with admiration.

You pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. He let out a sigh, a sound that sounded almost pained, and returned your kiss. Then you harshly pushed him away, hitting his chest.

"Where have you been?" You demanded.

"I had matters to attend to." He told you.

"Three months!" You cried. "Three months I waited for you, and you were doing what?"

He smiled and pulled off his cloak, his eyes raking over your form. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

You wanted to be angry with him, you really did, but the look he was giving you, like he was starved, melted away your resolve. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Asshole," You whispered.

"My love." He whispered back, leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. You were angry, yes, but seeing him now made all of that fade away. Your ire could wait until the morning.

His lips were gentle and loving, and you were so happy that you had almost forgotten that he had been gone. He kneeled on the bed and pulled you close, his hands cupping your cheeks.

When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling and breathing hard.

"I thought you left me," You admitted, your hands gripping his wrists, as though you could keep him there forever by holding on to him.

He hummed, his nose nuzzling against yours and you pressed yourself closer to him, trying to get as much contact as possible.

His large, warm hands moved down to the swell of your stomach. He placed his palms flat against the bump and leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Did the maesters tell you?" You asked, placing your hands over his.

He nodded, his eyes lifting up to meet yours. "How are you feeling?" He asked, with such gentle kindness that it made your heart melt.

"Big." You answered, laughing slightly. "I can't wear any of my old clothes, and I have to have new ones made all the time. And the way the ladies look at me when I go out..."

He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him, his thumbs caressing your skin. It was true that you had changed since the wedding, your body swelling with his child. You were nervous about how he would react, but the softness in his eyes and the way he touched you told you otherwise.

"I wish I could have told you the news myself, it's a shame you had to hear it from some crusty old maester," you said.

"It is a wonderful thing to return home too," he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, your fingers weaving through his long, silver hair. You could feel his lips turn up against yours, and you both pulled away.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your features, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands trailed down your sides, sending a wave of heat through you.

"My prince," you said softly, your fingers brushing along his cheekbone. "We've already made a baby. You don't have to do this."

He laughed, and shook his head, a look in his eyes you couldn't decipher. "I forget just how innocent you are," he said, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

“Well, whose fault is that?” You teased, smiling up at your handsome husband.

You sucked in a breath as he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin.

"It's true, I've been away for too long, my lady wife has forgotten what it is I crave," he breathed against your skin, his lips finding yours once more.

Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, feeling his muscles. He pulled back slightly and tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

"You have gotten bigger as well," you said, running your hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles.

He smirked, a cocky gleam in his eyes. "Oh?"

"It suits you," you said, a playful smile on your lips.

His hand came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingers caressing your jaw. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.

"And you are more beautiful than the day we wed," he said, his voice husky.

"My prince flatters me." You breathed, a blush rising on your cheeks.

His eyes went to the ties on your nightdress, a row of pretty little bows that went down to the valley of your breasts. He tugged at one of the ribbons, the fabric becoming loose.

He pushed it aside and his hand moved up to caress your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple, causing you to gasp.

"Still as sensitive." He said, a smirk on his lips.

He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before gently biting down. You tugged hard on his hair, your legs kicking and squirming as he continued to play with you.

"Daemon," you moaned.

He hummed, the vibration causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. He let go of your nipple, and his mouth moved lower, placing hot kisses along your skin, his hand pushing up your night dress.

"Perhaps a bit more sensitive." He commented, his hand brushing along your thigh.

He hooked a finger into the waistband of your small clothes and pulled them off. You were now naked, your body on full display for him, and he leaned back and admired his work. His hand on the swell of your belly, his thumb tracing over a stretch mark.

"Beautiful." He said, a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked away, suddenly shy. You had only spent one night with him, and now he was here again. His touch, his words, they all still had an affect on you, making your stomach flutter and heart race.

He leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your bump, his hand resting on the side of it, his lips trailing lower. You smiled softly, and ran your fingers through his hair, the silver strands smooth between your fingers.

His hand came to rest on your thighs, gently coaxing your legs open. You watched as he positioned himself between them, his head almost disappearing behind your bump.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his smirk was all too knowing, causing you to blush and turn away. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out and licking up your slit.

You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. He did it again, this time focusing his attention on that sensitive little spot he introduced to you on your wedding night. He placed a soft kiss on it, his tongue circling it.

"Dae-ah," you moaned, trying to muffle the sound by pressing a hand over your mouth.

You didn't know if it was the fact that you were pregnant, or maybe that you missed him more than anything, but everything felt different, his touch more intense.

His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, holding you down as his tongue licked and circled you. His mouth moved down and his tongue slid into you, making you arch and cry out. He lapped at your arousal, his tongue going in and out, the sounds he made, the hums and sighs, driving you wild.

He groaned, a sound that vibrated through your entire body, and his tongue went up, swirling around that little spot again, his mouth closing over it.

You moaned his name, your thighs squeezing him, your whole body trembling as your release washed over you.

He placed a few more kisses to the inside of your thighs before rising up, his hair messy and face glistening with you. He wiped his face with his arm and leaned down, his lips capturing yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and you kissed him hard, your hand tangling into his hair, the other reaching down to the ties of his trousers. He helped you undo them, and kicked off his pants.

His hard length sprung free, and you wrapped a hand around it, causing him to let out a shaky moan. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and his eyes locking onto yours.

You slowly started to stroke him, and he let out another moan, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath hot against your skin.

"My love," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand.

You loved the effect you had on him, the control you had. To have the prince of dragonstone, the most dangerous man in the realm, at the palm of your hand, made your heart flutter.

His hand found yours, and he guided it away from his length, a whine leaving your throat. He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss before positioning himself between your legs.

He slowly pushed himself in, causing you both to moan. It hurt a little, just like the first time, but his hands were on your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin, and he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting you adjust.

"My love, I'm not going to break," you said.

He smirked and gave a shallow thrust, a gasp leaving you.

"I can't be too careful with what is mine." He said, leaning down and giving you a heated kiss.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up the length of your leg, coming to rest on your bump, his other hand planted next to your head, holding himself up.

He started to move, his length slowly sliding in and out, the pace slow and gentle. You could feel every inch of him, rubbing against that perfect spot. A soft moan left you, and you reached out, your hands on his chest, feeling the hand planes of muscle underneath his skin.

His thumb caressed your belly, his eyes never leaving your face, studying every detail, memorizing each feature. You felt so exposed under his gaze and turned away, your cheeks flushed.

He smiled, a soft, loving smile, and kissed you.

"How I've missed you, my beautiful wife," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at him, seeing nothing but love in his eyes. It was the way he had looked at you at your wedding, the two of you standing there in the sept, whispering promises to each other. The world had disappeared around you, and in that moment you were the only people that existed.

He kissed you again, and began moving a little faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room. He groaned, his hand still gently stroking your bump.

"I can't believe such a perfect creature could bear my child," he said, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested.

"Our child," you corrected, giving him a teasing smile.

He hummed, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your waist and helping you into a sitting position. He pulled you onto his lap, and you moaned at the way he was buried deeper inside you.

His lips left open mouth kisses on your shoulders, and his hands rested on your hips, guiding you. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his hands back on your bump as you moved. You knew he liked the feel of it, and he couldn't get enough.

Your name left his lips as you bounced in his lap, his hands cupping your ass, squeezing you. You moaned, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the silver locks. You were growing louder, your body humming, that feeling building within you.

"Not too loud, my love," he whispered. "I do not wish for the guards to hear,"

A moan, that was halfway to a laugh escaped you, and he cut it off with a deep kiss. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, as you kept moving, the feeling of your release building.

"For your lovely sounds are only for me," he continued, his voice in your ear.

You let out another shaky moan, his hands squeezing you. He was moving his hips to meet yours, and you could feel him shaking beneath you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, and pulled you harder, his voice soft yet commanding as he talked you closer to your peak.

Your hands gripped his arms and back, and when he said your name, a deep, low groan that sounded almost pained, you toppled over the edge, falling in a pool of ecstasy. All the pent up emotions and frustration that you had been holding in were released, and you let go of a final moan that you muffle in the crook of his neck.

He followed soon after, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. You clung to him, afraid that he might disappear if you didn't. His arms were wrapped around your middle, cradling you close to him, his lips pressed to your temple.

The two of you breathed in each other's air, a simple shared breath, your foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed. You could feel his lips on your sweat slicked skin, his fingertips still caressing your bump.

When you both had returned to your senses, he gently laid you back on the bed. He leaned down, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours, and peppered your face with little kisses. You smiled and let your eyes flutter open, finding him staring at you, a sweet, lovestruck look in his eye.

He grabbed the blanket, and covered your naked form with it, tucking it around you, almost protectively. He crawled under with you,his head resting against your chest, his hand still protectively cradling the swell of your stomach.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling. He looked up at you, his eyes sleepy, and he pressed a kiss to your bump.

"I hope it's a boy," you said, continuing to stroke his hair. "With the most handsome features, and a true warrior, like his father."

"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing, and his arms wrapping around your waist. "I hope it is a girl, a daughter that looks just like her mother."

He was silent for a moment, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly opened.

"Or perhaps both," he said, his voice serious, a glimmer of something in his eyes.

"Twins?" You laughed. "I don't think I could handle two little dragons running about."

He chuckled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. "I will be here to help you," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I am not going anywhere."

"You better not," you warned, poking his chest. "You've kept me waiting long enough."

He laughed again and caught your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there. He slid his arms back around you, and pulled you close, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing.

You were content, your heart filled with so much love for him, and as his breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, you knew he felt the same. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what was to come. Of a big family, a happy life, and many more nights just like this one. 

[bunnis-monsters]

Devoted

Yandere!Knight Elf x Princess!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober

Oct 15th

Oct 14

Oct 16

summary: your knight is having scandalous thoughts about you…

warnings: dirty thoughts, nudity

Devoted.

It’s what every knight was, devoted to those they protected, devoting their bodies, hearts, and souls to the royal family and their safety.

But for your knight… it was more than that.

He had spent years wandering the earth, despising human kind for the slaughter of his brethren. To him, humans were selfish and cruel creatures that cared not for nature or other beings, only for their own personal gain.

That was… until he met you.

He had been starving to death, an intentional choice on his behalf. The world had rejected him, taken away all of his loved ones and left him to be all alone, with no one to share his long life with.

When a carriage passed by the tree he leaned against, the place he had picked for his final rest, he hadn’t been expecting a woman to jump out and run in his direction, lifting his chin and pouring cool water down his parched, dry throat.

“Gods, you’re skin and bones. Are you alright..? No, of course you aren’t…”

Within moments, you were flanked by several men in armor, men he would later come to know as royal knights.

“Princess, please return to the carriage. It is not wise to interact with… beings such as himself.”

You shot the knight a look and he quickly backed down. “If I were to ignore a dying man when I am able to help, who am I to call myself a princess of the people?”

The elf attempted to pull his head away, but was both too weak… and too mesmerized by your beauty to do anything but let you feed and nurture him as he was taken back to the palace.

Over the next few days, he was taken care of thoroughly by the palace staff, his every need tended to.

He found out by listening in to the maids outside his room that you had ordered all of the palace to take care of him as if he were royalty himself.

You quickly scolded anyone that dared to even play with idea of discriminating against him due to him being an elf. It was… refreshing, and he felt strange hearing a human speak of him as if he were a person.

As he recovered, you visited him as much as your duties allowed, chatting with him and making sure he was being treated well.

He felt strange when he started looking forward to your visits, even wanting to recover faster so he could stay by your side at all times.

And he was able to achieve his dream by moving up the ranks as a knight, eventually becoming your personal guard. It wasn’t easy, the training was grueling and he was mistreated for being an elf…

But a year later he kneeled before you as your personal knight. He put the work on and climbed the ranks… all for you.

It didn’t take long for him to gain your trust. After all, you were a kind and fair princess. You didn’t judge him for being an elf, something he had never experienced before. He was your knight, and you believed in his strength.

And when he took over protecting you, he started to get a bit… greedy.

He didn’t like that other people got to see and touch you. They were filthy humans who only wanted to use and abuse you.

Even the maids helping you dress and bathe would coo soft compliments, saying how they adored their princess and wanted nothing more than to see you happy.

But he heard what they’d say in the hallways. He would hear their hateful words and gossip. They hated you for being royal, for having a better life than them,

They didn’t know you like he did.

Slowly, he began gathering evidence against each maid and butler, every single body guard and knight that attended you was either fired or executed.

No one should be able to be so close to you… no one but him.

It was late one night when he first saw your bare body. You were bathing, him standing by the door, facing it to guard you.

Having been pampered your entire life, you didn’t exactly know how to properly bathe yourself. Now that all your maids had been fired, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“C-could you… help me?”

The tips of his elf ears turned pink when he turned to see you leaning against the edge of the tub, your soft breast squished by the cool surface.

The mere sight of your plump form bare in front of him was enough to have his cock straining against his pants.

“Of course, my princess…”

He sat down on the edge of the bath, slowly easing the shampoo into your hair. After that was your body, and he steeled himself before moving forward.

Moving the washcloth against your soft flesh felt almost sinful. You were his princess, and yet he was touching forbidden territory. Although he tried his best to avert his eyes, he ended up catching sight of your pretty, fat pussy.

It looked so soft, and he could almost picture how cute you’d look all stretched out on his cock. How you’d moan for him to be gentle, burying your face into his neck.

He’d comply, giving you the tender lovemaking you deserved…

After your bath, he had to tuck you into bed before leaving the room to deal with his throbbing erection.

His princess… how he wanted to keep you pure and innocent… but his desires were overwhelming.

Perhaps he could use his elven beauty to woo you and take you away… after all, he could never have you while under that kingdom’s law.

Soon, you would be his…

Want more? My commissions are open, or you can send me a Kofi requesting more!

———————

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[fumiliar]

in your dreams - kento nanami

✎... fluff

everyone knew your crush on nanami in highschool. it was a public secret, from your classmates to upperclassmen, they all knew. when you first entered jujutsu high, you saw the most beautiful upperclassmen, kento nanami. ever since you've noticed the man, you followed him like a lost puppy. taking any chance to strike a conversation with him, you had 2 goals in highschool, graduate and most importantly get with nanami.

when you came back to jujutsu high as a sorcerer, their first words to you were:

"you're the one who liked nanamin right?" the blue eyed man asked

"yeah, i can't believe you still remembered," awkwardly looking around, trying to stare at anything but his face. it was a very embarrassing time of your life.

"everyone remembers, but don't worry, nanamin won't come back anytime soon."

and how wrong he was. 3 months after you came back to jujutsu, kento followed your footsteps, joining as another jujutsu sorcerer.

"i heard nanamin was single, you don't wanna try asking him out y/n? maybe you'd have a different fate," gojo winking at you before he went to take his leave.

you contemplated on asking him out on a date tonight. it wouldn't hurt, right?

as you arrived to the field to supervise the students, you saw a familiar figure, kento nanami. you took your time walking there, admiring the man. kento being the observant man he is, noticed your staring, reciprocating it back to you, making you look away instantly.

as you stood beside him watching the students, kento started some small talk.

"how was your day y/n?" kento asked, lowering his body by just a pinch to hear you better.

"good, what about you?" you replied.

"good as well," kento answered.

"wanna go out on a date with me?" you whispered, avoiding his gaze, making sure no one was paying attention.

"of course y/n, i'm flattered that you asked me out," kento replied with a soft smile.

you tried to cover your joy, but it was too much. a smile slowly manifesting itself on your face.

"[Honorific].Y/n, why are you smiling?" yuuji asked.

"nothing.."

when you had entered the break room, gojo and shoko were already sitting, waiting to interrogate you.

"so are you going out on a date with nanamin tonight?" gojo asked expectantly.

"of course, we're literally married," you answered while taking out your lunchbox from the fridge.

"i know he agreed to go on a date with you, but that doesn't mean you're married to him too y/n," shoko talking to you with a tone she would use in a misbehaving kid.

"in your dreams y/n, i love you, but these delusions need to stop," shoko agreeing with gojo for once.

"what delusions?" kento asked. in the middle of your conversation, kento had also entered the break room, only hearing gojo's part.

"i told them we're married, and they don't believe me," a chuckle escaped kento's lips as you huffed. he slowly approached you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"yeah, we are," kento holding up your hand flexing the matching wedding bands you both had. you and kento thought it would be funny to play a game with the jujutsu high people. at first, you wanted to tell them as soon as you arrived at jujutsu high. but due to gojo's incessant teasing, you decided to see how long you could trick him and everyone else. it wasn't like you guys were hiding it, you both wore your wedding bands everyday, it's just kento isn't a big fan of PDA in the workplace.

"what...are you serious..."

[maxtermind]

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[ashwhowrites]

eddie munson x cheerleader/popular reader, where the reader keeps asking eddie out on a date but he keeps rejecting them because why would a popular person want to be with him. Anyways, maybe something happened that made him realize that he believes them and would like to go out with them.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Asking me out?

Y/N recently grew a crush on Eddie, the town's freak. She never saw something in him before, but all it took was one moment for it to change.

It was a Friday night and she was freezing her ass off on the field. But a big fake smile plastered on her face as she did the cheers. She let her eyes wander as the game played, and then she saw Eddie. He stood off to the side smoking a cigarette, she was surprised he wasn't asked to leave. He had one hand in his pocket and his hair was covered with a black beanie. He must have felt her stare because he looked in her direction.

She froze as she couldn't look away, his eyes kept her in a daze. His eyes warmed up her body and she felt her face burn when he winked.

That was all it took, that night she dreamed about it and woke up with the biggest crush she's ever had.

When Monday rolled around she had a skip in her step. She wanted to ask Eddie out, she knew she'd sound crazy with it coming out of nowhere but who cares.

She found him at lunch and walked over to his table. A big smile on her face as she stood in front of him. He was so cute that it made her want to giggle for years. She was shocked that the girls didn't see how attractive he was.

"Can I talk to you?"

His table went silent

Eddie looked at her confused

"Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, her eyes never left him so it was clear who she meant. But he had no idea why.

She grabbed his hand and lifted him from the chair, he looked over at his friends as she pulled him into the hallway. She dropped his hand and turned around to face him

"I'm Y/N," she said as she smiled

"I know," he said, "I mean! I'm Eddie," he stuttered

"I know," she said with a small wink. Eddie wasn't sure if his heart racing was a good or bad thing.

"I saw you at the football game on Friday, and this might sound very forward, but I think you are insanely attractive and I'd love to go out on a date with you, maybe tonight?"

Eddie felt the need to clean his ears because there was no way Y/N, the prettiest cheerleader, asked him out. He stared at her like she had multiple heads, and he had a feeling it coming out of nowhere was a trap. He would love to say "hell yes" but he was tired of being burned by people.

"I can't tonight, I have to babysit," he lied

"That's okay, how about tomorrow?" she asked

"I babysit all week and the weekend. You know, parents have kids but never want to take care of them," he nervously laughed

Y/N felt blown off and had a bad feeling he was lying. She was disappointed but she shrugged it off.

"Have fun, Eddie. Maybe another time," she spoke quietly, far less enthusiastic than before. And that made Eddie feel like shit.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, watching as her shoulders slumped as she walked back into the cafeteria.

~~~

In case he was telling the truth and had to babysit, she tried again for that "another time."

"Hey Eddie, do you want to get a bite to eat after the game?"

"I have to be home right away, I'm sorry"

And then she tried another time, and another, and another. He always seemed to be busy. But she really liked him and she wanted to try one last time.

Eddie was sitting against the school's building as he waited for Wayne to pick him up, his van decided to not start and left him stranded.

Y/N walked over, standing at his feet.

Eddie looked up as a shadow covered him. There she was, beautiful as ever. She made Eddie nervous and he didn't like to be nervous.

"What are you sitting out here for?" she asked, Eddie could feel his stomach flutter when she smiled.

"Van died so waiting for my ride," he shrugged

"I can give you a ride, and as a thank you for it maybe we could get ice cream?" she offered, more shy each time since she knew he'd say no.

"He's already on his way so you don't have to worry about me," he said as he stood up

"What about just ice cream then? I can pick you up." She kept trying and he kept shutting her down

"I'll probably be in the shop with my van, but once it's fixed I should have some free time, I'll find you."

~~~

Eddie arrived in his van a few days later, and he never talked to her. It hurt to admit, but he was never going to say yes and she had to move on.

He found her eyes and quickly looked away, when he looked again she was gone.

A few days passed and she stopped walking up to him. Sometimes they'd make eye contact, and she'd smile and then look away. Anytime she walked in his direction he held his breath, letting it free when she walked passed him.

He missed talking to her, even if it was always two sentences. He liked having her attention but he was scared of what would come after if he said yes. Would a bucket of water be dumped on him? Was it a bet? Would he find himself shoved in a closet and beaten up?

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

~~

Eddie was walking to his campaign when he walked passed the gym and heard his name.

He peeked inside to see Y/N and Chrissy stretching. Eddie was a simple guy so he had to take his time looking at Y/N as she sat in her uniform.

"Are you going to try again?" Chrissy asked, her hand stretched out to her feet

"No," Y/N sighed

"What? But you really like him!" Chrissy gasped

"Chris, it's clear he doesn't like me. I can count the amount of times he said no on two hands. I'm done embarrassing myself. It's a crush, I'll get over it," Y/N shrugged

"Yeah, but you haven't liked a guy in a long time! Are you sure you want to give up?"

"I know you are trying to be a good friend, but you won't change my mind. If he liked me, he would make time work in his apparently busy schedule. I'm probably not his type and that's okay." Y/N explained, mostly trying to make herself feel better.

"You're right, but his loss because I know a ton of single guys who have been asking about you!" Chrissy gushed

Eddie was leaning so far that the door opened and he fell right through. He cussed as he landed on his stomach. The fall caught the girl's attention and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Eddie? Oh my are you okay?" Y/N asked, rushing over

Chrissy was behind her, a look of worry on her face

"I'm good," he said through clenched teeth. He moved to his knees and felt soft hands helping him stand up. Once he was on his feet he wanted to run.

"Were you pushed?" Y/N asked, worried he might have been getting picked on.

Eddie couldn't tell which was less embarrassing

"Uh no, I was eavesdropping, and well karma," he said as he brushed his dirty hands against his jeans. Chrissy nodded and backed away, giving them privacy to talk.

"Oh! So you heard all of that, huh?" Y/N asked, groaning in embarrassment

"Yeah and look I'm sorry I kept rejecting you. I wasn't sure if you were serious or not and I was a little scared," Eddie said

"Scared of what? and why would I be lying?" she asked

"You're popular and I've never had a popular girl take interest in me that wasn't for some type of joke. I figured you were asking me out as a joke or to set me up for something. And I'm sorry for assuming, I didn't know you genuinely like me."

"I can understand that. I hope you know that I'd never do something cruel to anyone. I'm not like that," she explained

"And I believe you. I know I kinda had a million shots to go out with you and I fucked them all up. But can I make it up to you?" he asked, hope in his eyes as she smiled

"Are you asking me out, Eddie?" she teased

"I am," he said as he smiled, "What do you say?"

"I think I'm busy for the whole year, sorry," she said, Eddie stood shocked as she turned around and walked away.

He felt his body slump at the rejection, but he guessed he deserved it. He turned around and headed out of the gym.

He made it down the hall when he heard his name being called, he turned around.

"That's for saying no. But I'd love to go out with you," she said as she walked towards him

"I did deserve that," he laughed but walked towards her, "tonight after practice, we can grab that bite to eat?"

"I'll see you then," she said with a smile. She leaned in and pecked his cheek softly.

Eddie blushed as her lips touched his skin

He watched as she walked back to practice, head in the clouds.

Tags!

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[pyrrhiccomedy]

This is my cat.

His name is Eddie Potato.

Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.

[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]

We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.

This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.

He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.

The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.

Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.

He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.

We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.

Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.

I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.

Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.

After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.

And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.

Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.

What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.

"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.

He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!

It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.

I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.

Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

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

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

Word count: 13.2 K

Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6 ... Epilogue

~~

She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.

He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself. 

She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him. 

It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death. 

The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers. 

He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking. 

“What are you doing?”

“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”

“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her. 

He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end. 

With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food. 

“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence. 

She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm. 

He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort. 

“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck. 

As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her. 

“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.” 

“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted. 

The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.

“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.

“Just getting to know my future wife.” 

Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion. 

“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.

“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.” 

Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear. 

“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip. 

“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear. 

Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes. 

“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence. 

Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She spoke quietly. 

Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily. 

She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her. 

“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out. 

His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes. 

“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.” 

She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.  

The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became. 

“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.” 

Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of. 

Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly. 

“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly. 

She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.

She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”

“What?”

“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”

Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head. 

“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.” 

“I am not naive-”

“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”

Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.

He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.

“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”

“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.

“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration. 

Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.

It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month. 

She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.

He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him. 

“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice. 

“I do.” 

There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.

He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.

She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.

“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it. 

She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her. 

He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them. 

He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to. 

He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.

She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.

He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow. 

Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship. 

They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne. 

It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.

He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own. 

Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse. 

He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before. 

The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.

She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.

Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to. 

But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.

His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior. 

His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them. 

He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting. 

He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse. 

“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation. 

“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously. 

Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.

“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.” 

Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.

“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.

Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?” 

Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life. 

“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous. 

Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could. 

“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.

Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face. 

“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly. 

Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.

The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.

Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground. 

The cup that was meant for his wife. 

Something broke inside him at the realization. 

He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find. 

What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?

He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her. 

The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.

He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully. 

“Has anyone been inside?” 

“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”

He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble. 

“Where’s the rest of you?”

“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.

“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.

“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”

Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her. 

His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed. 

He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident. 

Someone had tried to take her from him, again. 

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night. 

“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing. 

With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall. 

He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside. 

His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.

“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear. 

“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously. 

“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly. 

“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.” 

Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed. 

“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.” 

“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.

“What guards?” 

“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”

Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing. 

“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.

Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade. 

His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly. 

“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.” 

The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her. 

“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved. 

His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze. 

“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”

Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread. 

“I don’t know what-”

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.

“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her. 

“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore. 

“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.” 

Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man. 

“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?” 

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick. 

“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”

Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced. 

“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”

The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear. 

Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all. 

“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”

Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been. 

“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?” 

“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.

Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.

“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”

To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further. 

“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.” 

With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind. 

It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him. 

His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him. 

His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely. 

He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly. 

She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.

“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers. 

“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.

“What are you talking about?”

“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.” 

“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her. 

She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles. 

“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured. 

He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe. 

“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.

“What?”

“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable. 

“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband. 

She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman. 

Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.” 

Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat. 

“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.

Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured. 

“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.” 

She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.

“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”

Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.

His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.

It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side. 

They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.

He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.

“Is it time?” 

“What- Helaena…”

“We are leaving, are we not?” 

“Well… yes, but-”

“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”

The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.

It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.

“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone. 

Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in. 

“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.” 

“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’. 

She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”

He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”

“Will you show me?” 

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.” 

With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested. 

Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face. 

She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding. 

She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful. 

As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins. 

“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.” 

He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.” 

His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins. 

She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly. 

Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter. 

“Are you ready, Jae?” 

The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease. 

The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months. 

She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.

She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.

Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt. 

She was all he needed. 

A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them. 

The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal. 

Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family. 

She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack. 

Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests. 

She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes. 

Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet. 

“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”

His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms. 

“You brought an entourage?”

Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.

“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”

He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.

A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew. 

“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter. 

Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing. 

The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.

“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly. 

“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”

The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.

“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”

“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”

“But I couldn't-”

“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”

Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.

“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”

Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done. 

“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.” 

“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.

They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features. 

Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.

But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before. 

“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested. 

Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.

Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers. 

He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with. 

Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own. 

As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered. 

He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches. 

He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.

“What are you thinking about?”

“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.

“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.” 

He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”

He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children. 

He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again. 

Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago. 

“I haven’t been a good husband.” 

“Aemond-”

“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.” 

She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt. 

“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind. 

“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension. 

She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered. 

He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife. 

She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.” 

He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start. 

They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace. 

For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again. 

She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him. 

Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch. 

Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months. 

He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure. 

She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her. 

She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.

Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.

She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue. 

Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless. 

He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.

She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy. 

Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy. 

“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak. 

She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan. 

The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely. 

He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple. 

“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.” 

Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her. 

He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her. 

“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure. 

His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again. 

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started. 

“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.” 

His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous. 

“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes. 

He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry. 

“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant. 

He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.

Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling. 

She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it. 

He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body. 

He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly. 

The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard. 

His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.  

His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.

He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again. 

He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him. 

As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.

It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined. 

~~

With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks. 

She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude. 

The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate. 

Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.

She always knew this was how it would end. 

The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family. 

They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed. 

She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation. 

She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others. 

Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances. 

He didn’t look up as she approached. 

The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him. 

“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.

“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave. 

His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”

“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.

“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”

“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”

She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war. 

“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”

“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.” 

“You do not have to.” 

His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved. 

It didn’t cause him much grief. 

It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind. 

“What doesn’t?”

“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed. 

Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle. 

He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him. 

“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”

Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done. 

“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.” 

He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him. 

When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers. 

He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days. 

He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family. 

The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be. 

He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him. 

The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her. 

He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted. 

“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion. 

She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him. 

“Aemond-”

“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself. 

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came. 

He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.” 

“Are you sure you don’t-”

“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret. 

Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.

He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.

“You were always my purpose.” 

His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty. 

Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.

No one would take that away from them.

~~

A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess. 

Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected. 

Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm. 

Their new life was everything they wanted. 

Until the day their past caught up to them. 

“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”

Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.

“No, I will handle it.” 

She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.

“Where is my father?”

“In a council meeting.”

“And my husband is with him?”

“Yes, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.

“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.” 

The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.

“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.” 

Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband. 

“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk. 

As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face. 

Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes. 

Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected. 

Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival. 

She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.

“I’m sure you know why I am here.”

“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling. 

The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed. 

“I need to see Aemond.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”

“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes. 

She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.

“He killed my son!”

“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have. 

The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything. 

She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow. 

“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”

“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”

“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”

“They usurped my crown!”

“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief. 

“You did not come here to wager about succession.”

“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.

“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”

“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”

Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.

“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words. 

“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.

Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike. 

“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”

Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument. 

“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left. 

“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”

Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.

“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”

Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye. 

“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”

“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.

“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” 

Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly. 

“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”

She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.

“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”

The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss. 

She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.

His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”

“You are not mad?”

“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.” 

He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.

“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”

“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”

She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out. 

“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?” 

Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.

“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.” 

She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it. 

He still had nights when he couldn’t face it. 

“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned. 

“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”

She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained. 

“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”

She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort. 

He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him. 

Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them. 

They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.

“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.” 

Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl. 

At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.

“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child. 

“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.

She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question. 

“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.

Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree. 

Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms. 

Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze. 

Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.

Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true. 

They had their family and nothing could take it from them. 

~~

Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx

There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx

~~

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[cupidkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Stars in the Dark

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected p in v, emergency contraceptives, slight alcohol consumption, reader is strong (minor description)

Summary: You're a former farm hand at the Greene Farm. You swoon over the new hunter, and he notices.

Notes: This was one of the first requests I got and I'm so sorry it took me this long to put it out! I hope you're still around anon, and you enjoy.

It was an unusually cool day. 

You sat on the front porch of the Greene house, watching as the strangers that were slowly becoming friends did their daily chores. Carol sat in the center of their camp, scrubbing clothes in a bucket next to Lori, who was hanging them up to dry. Andrea sat on the top of the RV, switching between her gun scope and her binoculars to observe the tree line. There was a man beside her, the one that was with Otis when he died, was his name Shawn? Shane?

It was hard to remember their names, there were so many of them.

But you didn't have trouble remembering Daryl’s name. Especially considering how often you would whimper it into your pillow at night. 

You felt your cheeks heat up at the idea of him, your legs switching from being crossed at your ankles to your knees, the rocking chair beneath you swaying slightly. 

Your eyes drifted to the man you'd been thinking of, watching as he walked back to the camp for lunch after spending the morning hunting. You'd been seeing more of him, especially after the whole incident with the walkers in the barn, something not even you had known about. You knew they were there, sure, but you had no idea the little girl they were looking for had been in there the whole time. 

The Greene family had kept it from you for a while. You had gone to school with Maggie, Hershel's daughter, and she was able to get you a spring job working at her farm with the horses and cattle. They were even kind enough to let you have their spare bedroom downstairs near the back door. It was tiny, but it was free lodging, and you loved it. 

That spring job turned into a summer job once the infection started. Hershel had done a pretty good job convincing you of his beliefs. You had little medical experience, mostly just patching up animals at the farm, especially the barn cat PeePoe, but you liked to believe Hershel knew what he was talking about. Even if it seemed a little farfetched. So, you kept their secret and minded your own business. 

You were sort of glad Shane forced the whole thing to happen. The walkers in the barn were starting to really creep you out, especially with how much they began to rot over time. 

The movement of two people sneaking around to the back of the house caught your eye and you saw Maggie and Glenn, something you'd grown accustomed to. She had a big smile, full of excitement and nervousness, and Glenn just looked thrilled to be there. You watched as they disappeared to the back workshop and felt envy bubble in your stomach. 

The sound of that familiar gruff voice that you'd gotten really good at imagining at night startled you. You looked up and away from beside you, your mouth slightly open in surprise, not having heard him walk up on the porch. 

“Hi?” You looked up at him, awkward and embarrassed from your earlier thoughts. You weren't used to seeing him so up close. He smelled like cigarettes and something else, something artificial, and when you saw him chewing something you realized it was the very faint scent of bubblegum. 

“Patricia said you knew the shops in town. Can't find Glenn, and we need supplies for dinner tonight.” His eyes held little emotion, a bit of annoyance maybe. Annoyance at having to ask you, or annoyance at having to go into town instead of Glenn, you weren't sure. 

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded slowly, trying to keep the filthy thoughts from your head as your eyes raked over his face and upper body, catching yourself and quickly looking back up at his face. 

“Good. C'mon.” He didn't ask, he just slung his crossbow over his bloody ripped shirt, which you assumed was from the deer he had bagged that morning. 

Patricia had mentioned to you in passing about wanting to have another group dinner that night, you didn't expect it to actually happen, given how awkward the last one had been at first. With the weather slowly fading into autumn and the crops dying from age, you figured it was necessary to get some supplies from town. 

You didn't leave often. You didn't have a desire, or a need to, but the idea of being alone with Daryl had you almost skipping to his bike. 

As much as you wanted to push Daryl against the wall of the corner store and kiss him till he passed out, you didn't feel like getting humiliated from rejection. You settled for just watching him as he moved, picking up cans and turning them over before stuffing them in his burlap potato sack. 

The sight of his eyes flickering up over the aisle and landing right on yours snapped you out of your dirty daydream. You quickly looked down to your shelf, picking up a can of corn and pretending to be interested in the ingredients in it. Hmm, yes, Corn. 

He eyed you through suspicious slits, having a hard time deciding between being concerned or annoyed.

Daryl didn't know much about you at all. He knew your name, he knew you were younger than Maggie but older than Beth and that you were a newer farmhand. The only people that ever talked about you never really spoke to him.

He did know that you were way too hot to be working on a farm shoveling horse shit. You belonged in a fuckin magazine, one of those that fashion ones Amy used to read back at their first camp in Atlanta. You were fit, you had to be for your job, what you looked like before all the labor-intensive work, he didn't know or care. 

He'd never seen someone as hot as you in person. He couldn't even think of the words to describe you. You looked so out of place at that farm, it was like taking a supermodel and putting her in a gas station. He watched as you put food in your bag, trying not to get hard as his thoughts swiftly changed from admiring your beauty to imagining how you'd look when you came. 

Daryl thought about that way too much already. He thought about it so much that he was confident he was spot on with the image of you he created in his mind. Alone in his far-off tent at night, not having to worry about getting caught, rubbing his dick raw to the thought of you naked, drooling and crying from pleasure under him. 

“Okay, my bag’s full.” Your voice ripped him from his trance and he blinked a few times, realizing he'd been staring at the same can of peas for the past two minutes. 

“Yeah. Alright.” He swept his arm across his shelf, knocking several cans into his bag and two on the floor. You jumped at the sound and he cursed, his brain still not working right with all the blood that went to his dick. 

You peeked over the shelf to see two cans on the floor, one perfectly fine and the other surrounded in a gross pile of butter beans. No loss to you. Daryl snatched the can of diced tomatoes from the floor and put it in his bag, twisting it a few times before slinging it over the shoulder that didn't have the crossbow on it. 

“How the hell are we gonna get these back?” You asked as you walked out the front door, trying not to fall head over heels when he stuck back to hold the door open for you. You thought he was being chivalrous, he just wanted to stare at your ass in those Bobbie Brooks as you walked to his bike. 

“We'll figure it out.” 

And you did, sort of, but it was incredibly awkward with a bag pressed between the two of you on the bike, and the other tied to your torso so it sat behind you. Thankfully, he drove thoughtfully slowly, and you were able to get back to the farm without incident. 

You were happy to let the other women do the cooking, trying to pay attention to the rant Andrea was currently going on about how Lori loved her social norms. 

The wind had grown a bit cooler, sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as the breeze blew through your hair. 

“You ever cook?” Andrea said suddenly, a cautious edge to her voice as if she suddenly realized she had no idea how you felt about gender roles. “Or, like it, I mean?”

“Was more of an outdoor kind of girl.” You chuckled, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair around the fire you sat at. 

Daryl was chopping wood, something you'd never been so interested in before. Andreas' conversation was getting real, real boring. 

“Yeah. I liked fishing myself.” She grew silent after that, and you looked away from Daryl to see she had a far out look in her eyes.

“You okay?” You asked in a gentle voice, only earning a silent nod from her. You took that as your leave and gave her a comforting shoulder squeeze before heading inside. The sun would set in a few hours, and you wanted to change into warmer clothes before dinner. 

You didn't expect to have Daryl sit beside you at dinner. 

You didn't really expect him to come, let alone eat with the group. Last time he’d been stuck in the bed upstairs since he’d been shot by Andrea. You basically froze when you saw the seating arrangements.

 It wasn't really his choice, honestly, everyone sat down so fast, the only two seats that were open were right beside each other. Looked like no one wanted to sit next to Shane. And from the look on his face, you didn't really want to either.

Relief flooded through you when Daryl sat down next to Shane. You took your seat beside Daryl, Andrea on your right. You smiled at Patricia in front of you, only getting a small one in return. 

It wasn't as quiet or awkward as the last dinner. Spirits were a bit higher, although tense with the whole “prisoner in the barn” fiasco. You couldn't recall the name of the man that was currently chained up, but you did know Dale made a scene of fixing him a plate, much to Shane's objection. 

You tried to distract yourself from their bickering by looking at Daryl. A quick bolt of subdued adrenaline coursed through you when you saw he was already looking at you. You looked away almost immediately out of reflex, and deciding against your better judgment, you looked back. He was still looking at you. 

Daryl couldn't figure you out. If he had a bullet for how many times he caught you looking at him, he'd be able to kill every damn walker on earth. 

It never even crossed his mind you were into him before that night. It seemed so farfetched, you were too fuckin pretty to be looking at him like that. Your features were so soft, even after all the work that had toughened your muscles, your face was still so… 

Cute.

 He didn't notice the tugging that had pulled at the corner of his mouth until it was a full-fledged smirk. He was about to look away when he realized how creepy he probably looked, staring down at you smirking without speaking, but the feeling of your knee bumping against his had his eyes locked to yours. 

His smirk slowly faded, being replaced by a more serious expression, until he saw the soft smile on your lips. 

Nah, she's just friendly. He found himself trying to explain away your actions, but a large part of him desperately wanted him to be wrong. Having such a sweet girl look up at him like that was uncharted territory, and his mind slowly drifted away to the idea of your uncharted territory. He would've snorted at the pun if not for the feel of your thigh pressing against his and staying there this time. 

Neither of you had noticed, but the bickering had finally died down, and a different and lighter conversation was taking place. 

Your silent interaction wasn't as private as it felt, the burn of Rick's eyes on his face had Daryl dragging his eyes to the leader of the group, holding so much cold annoyance towards the nosey man that it could've frozen hell. 

Rick just grinned, happy to see at least some people weren't so miserable with how things were going and went back to picking at his plate with his fork, silently chuckling. 

“Do you drink?” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts, he looked back over to you, his expression softening when he saw you. He couldn't decide if he wanted to take you out back and fuck you in the grass like an animal, or take you to your bed and kiss every inch of your body. 

“Sometimes.” He shrugged, his voice low and quiet amongst the chatter of the table. “Why?”

You shrugged in return, popping an apple slice in your mouth and crunching it before swallowing and speaking. “I found a bottle of wine today at the store. I don't really drink much anymore but wanted to find a reason to.” 

Your open-ended words had him overthinking once again, over analyzing what you meant. Was he the reason to drink? Or did you have one already? Before he could leave you in more silence your thigh moved against his again, bringing his attention back to you. 

“What're you askin’ me?” He needed to hear you clearly state your intentions, not wanting to humiliate himself by accepting a nonexistent request. 

“If you'll join me.” Your voice was quiet, almost too quiet, and it took him a few seconds to process what you'd said. 

He looked you over, his eyes narrowing as he searched your face for any sign of a trick. You smiled nervously, your eyes flickering to and fro, only settling on his eyes for a second a time. Something about you being unable to keep eye contact stirred something in him, something he was painfully unfamiliar with. He wanted to grab your chin and make you look up at him, make you speak up, make you tremble under his touch-

“You can say no.” He snapped out of it to see your smile had faded to fear of rejection. 

“No. I want to.” He answered immediately, nodding and earning another smile from you. 

You met him in the front field, holding your bundled up blanket with the wine bottle inside. You were originally going to bring glasses, but said fuck it, you could drink from the bottle. You did forget to bring a bottle opener, though, something Daryl was happy to help with. 

He took the bottle from you and sat down on the blanket beside you, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and beginning to work it into the cork.

“Hershel said something about moving you guys inside soon.” You commented as he blew a few chunks of broken cork from his blade. 

“I'll pass.” He grunted, digging the blade back into the cork. 

You looked away, your heart dropping at his words. 

“Can't stop thinking about it.” 

“Huh?” 

“About winter.” You thought you might've just been imagining it, but you swore you saw his face drop in disappointment at your answer. 

Finally, you heard the pop of the cork finally coming out, and he took the first swig, spitting out the few pieces of cork that had fallen in after he demolished the poor thing. 

He handed it back to you and you took a deep swig, trying to get as much courage as possible. You didn't know how to act around Daryl. He was so unpredictable, nothing like the other men you'd crushed on before. They were all easy, quick to accept your subliminal hints. 

But Daryl? You could tell him you wanted to suck his dick till he couldn't breathe, and he'd probably laugh, thinking you were just joking, and go off and hunt or whatever it was he did all day. 

It was easy for your mind to wander in the silence. You handed the bottle back to Daryl as you slowly undressed him in your head, imagining him taking your clothes off, his lips all over your neck, switching between your different fantasies. Rough, violent and painful, sweet, slow and deep, or quick, needy and dirty. You wondered what he would be like, was he experienced? Would he be able to make you cum just with his fingers? Or was he the opposite? Either way you wanted him, so unreasonably bad, you'd never felt this way about a man before. If someone told you a witch put a lust spell on you strictly for him, you'd believe it in a heartbeat. You didn't even know his favorite color. Or what type of music he listened to. 

“Shit, get down.” His hand on your chest pushing you to your back had your heart in your throat. You tilted your head back to see Maggie and Glenn, sneaking away once again. Daryl relaxed at the realization that it was just them and drew his hand away from you. 

“Lucky them.” You grumbled, taking the bottle from him and taking a sip. You were happily buzzed at this point, eager to make conversation but not at the point where you'd make a fool of yourself. 

“Hmm. Yeah.” He agreed, watching as they slipped behind the stables. “Lucky.”

With your newfound courage, you decided to test the waters in a way that you felt seemed completely unsuspecting and not suspicious at all. 

“Must be nice to have someone like that to take your mind off things for a while.” You commented casually, your gaze now back at the stars. 

“Wouldn't know.” His gruff reply gave you motivation to push on. 

“Yeah, me neither.” You couldn't think of the words that wouldn't possibly spook him off. Little did you know, Daryl wasn't some cornered frightful animal, he was thinking of the same things and worse than you. He'd been looking at you, his chest rising and falling in short quick breaths, his eyes all over your body beside him. 

“Those stars look better laying down.” He felt like an obviously desperate teenager after saying that, but when you immediately laid down on the blanket he smirked a bit. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid suggestion. 

He took a deep sip of wine and looked over you, noticing you'd changed back into your jean shorts after dinner. It was odd, he thought, considering the chill in the air, but he wasn't complaining. The way he looked at your bare legs was akin to someone on a diet looking at a plate of fresh, hot salty fries. His mouth watered, not from the idea of fries, but from the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs so hard you'd be littered with bruises. 

Daryl wanted to touch you so goddamn bad. But being him, he was too disgusted by the idea of getting the nerve to reach out and touch your thigh and having you pull away, shout at him, storm off and never talk to him again. 

And you being you, you were too terrified at the idea of making the first move and getting a similar reaction. 

So you stared up at the stars, forcing yourself to concentrate, before that last bit of wine spread through your body and gave you enough confidence to look at him. 

A buzzed smile spread on your lips when you saw he was already looking at you. And not your face either, but your thighs, and to gauge his reaction you trailed your hand down your torso to casually rest at the bottom of your shorts. You toyed with it, a bit, pretending you had an itch under the fabric and slipping your fingers under the hem. 

He looked at your face then. 

“You look real good.” He blurted, and froze at his words, ready to get up and bolt if you reacted the wrong way. 

“You look really pretty.” You responded without thinking, earning a look of confusion from him. “I mean, in a good way, like you could model in one of those underground fashion shows-” You cut yourself off before you could humiliate yourself further, but the grin on his face put you at ease. And made you a little tiny bit bolder. 

Neither of you knew what to say. He suddenly grabbed the wine and took an exceptionally impressive sip, leaving the bottle half empty. 

It was a few moments before either of you spoke again. 

“What did you do before this?” You asked, trying to ease the tension enough to relax the both of you. 

He snorted at that question, shaking his head and looking away from you. “Same as everyone else. Lived. Paid for food.”

You took that as the best answer you'd get from him and decided to use the boldness you'd earned from the alcohol. 

“Did you have a girlfriend?” 

He must've found your question amusing, because he snorted. “Psh. No. You got a boyfriend?” 

You noticed his question was in the present tense, not past like yours. “No.” 

He grunted and shifted in his spot so his forearms rested on his knees. He toyed with the grass for a bit, snapping off blades and picking them apart into little green confetti pieces. 

Daryl gave up on talking. He looked down at you again, seeing you were looking at the stars again, but not really seeing them. With the wine induced confidence he wasn't sure if he was thankful for yet, he reached out for you, his fingertips ghosting your knee. His eyes flickered to your face, and when he saw the expression it held there, he decided he was very grateful for the wine.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your lips parted and your eyebrows a bit furrowed. It was funny, with that look you'd think he had slipped his hands in your shorts. And when his hand fully pressed down on your thigh you closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, your body giving a billion silent ‘finally, finally, yes, yes, yes’. 

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while.” His gravelly voice sent chills through your entire body. 

“I can't stop thinking about it.” You admitted. 

“Yeah?” Your confession had him spinning, his hand now in the pocket of your shorts, two of his fingers dipping in to pull the two of you closer together. 

You found it hard to speak, so you settled on a whiny and desperate ‘Uh-huh’. 

He smirked down at you, his fingers back at your inner thigh. His touch was lazy, but deliberate, his rough fingers slipping up your thigh to the top of your shorts again. He ached to tease you, watch you whimper and squirm under you, but it was getting progressively harder. He glanced over his shoulder at the house, seeing all the windows dark besides Beth's bedroom. He then looked over the moonlit field, concerned for a moment about walkers, but when he saw the fence he felt all concern melt away. 

Daryl's hand continued roaming over your body, relishing in each little whimper being pulled from your throat. The thought that he was doing this to you, it was him making you into this needy little mess, it gave him a new sense of pride he hadn't felt in a long time. 

“You look real damn good.” He repeated his earlier compliment. The way you looked laying down beside him, your long sleeve shirt pushed up around your stomach, your chest rising and falling sharply, had his heart racing despite the buzz he had going on. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, sending a shiver through him at the sound of it. Your body arched into his touch, desperate to have his hand move from your stomach either up or down. 

“You feel real damn good too.” He muttered, loving the way your body was responding to his touch. 

“God. So do you.” You breathed out a long exhale, looking up at him like he was the prettiest thing above you, not the stars. 

“Yeah?” His voice had taken on a higher pitch, a bit teasing, making you involuntarily whimper at the sound of it. He suddenly took it up ten notches, sliding his hand up your shirt to your breast. You had to bite back the moan that you knew would either call walkers or humans if you made it. While he played with your nipple, rougher than you expected, his other hand popped open the button on your shorts. 

You didn't have time to be impressed before his hand shoved its way through your tight shorts to your panties, catching you completely off guard with how suddenly forward it was. A strangled groan and the sight of your eyes squeezing shut had him teasing you again. “S’been a while, huh?” 

You nodded frantically, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your legs trembled, moving apart so he could move his hand easier. He eagerly took advantage of the new space and moved his fingers through the sides of your panties, beelining for your clit. You weren't sure if it was experience, or if he just wasn't stupid, but the way he rubbed your embarrassingly slick clit had your head reeling. 

“You want me to take care of this little ache you got goin’ on?” The fact his southern drawl had gotten much stronger was almost enough to make you cum. Coupled with the dirty words he was saying, which was something you didn't expect from Daryl at all, your face burned with embarrassment. 

“Please.” You choked out, your hands gripping onto the blanket under you, having no idea what to do with your hands. 

He put more weight on his hands as he shuffled so close that he was basically on top of you. His middle finger slid into you, and the feigned cockiness quickly left his body when he felt you. He didn't know if he'd last more than ten seconds inside you. You were unbearably hot and wet. And just by the way you squeezed his finger, he couldn't imagine how that would feel on something bigger like his dick. 

Your worries were right, your orgasm came so fast you were humiliated. He'd barely curled his fingers inside you a few times, something you had to teach him through your haze, and you groaned, low and guttural.

His eyes widened when he realized what was happening, your orgasm catching him off guard. He took his hand that was busy pinching your incredibly sore nipples and clamped it firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries, even though they were enough to give him enough material to jerk his dick to for months. 

He'd need to find somewhere he could let you scream in peace. But for now, he'd have you right here, keep his hand over your mouth and fuck you into the grass. 

Daryl watched you come undone under his fingers like it would be the last time he'd ever see it. Memorizing the way your hips rolled up into his hand, the way they pulled away when you arched your back. The way your eyebrows pulled tightly together, then the way they relaxed as you rode out your high, your eyes fluttering like they couldn't decide on opening or staying closed. 

“Jesus Christ woman.” He breathed, his eyes dark and wild, like he'd just watched a miracle being performed in front of him. To Daryl it was. He felt an unbridled sense of satisfaction knowing he was the one who did that to you. 

You relaxed fully, your hips pulling away from his rough fingers and thumb, which were still stroking your clit. 

“Ain't done with you yet.” He pulled his hand from your shorts, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness on your stomach. 

“God. You're so pretty.” You said breathlessly, looking up at him again with that damn look on your face as you struggled to sit up to take your clothes off.

“You think I'm pretty? Yeah? C'mon then, show me.” He grabbed your hands, bringing them to his chest, forcing you to touch him. Your mind spun, still recovering from the first orgasm you'd had in god knows how long, trying to take over control as he used your hands to unbutton his plaid button up, not caring if you saw him shirtless because of how dark it was. The red one with the sleeves torn off,  it was your favorite. It was almost a loss to see him remove it, that was until he brought your hands back to touch his chest again. 

You decided you liked his direction, and let him move your hands down his chest to his jeans. Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle, messing up one too many times. He unbuckled it for you, deciding he was too impatient to wait on you, undoing his jeans and tugging them down just enough to get his cock out. 

When he finally tugged it out you tried your best to memorize every single detail about it. The glint of the moon on the bead of precum at the slit, the way the tip was darker than the pale base, the way his unruly pubes looked exactly like you'd imagined. 

Your hands reached out to grab the length of his cock and he sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back as he muttered out a string of curses you couldn't understand through his thick accent. 

He was so fucking glad he jerked off in his tent before he came out to meet you. Or else just that touch alone would've had him busting in your hands. 

The sound of him spitting into his hand made your core do that flip and you let out a shaky breath, watching as he rubbed his palm over the tip of his cock. 

He said nothing as he manhandled you, pushing your shorts right down your thighs, ignoring your little sound of surprise. He pulled you into his lap, and the way he took full control of your body like you were a puppet had you growing wetter than you thought possible. He moved you like you weighed nothing, one hand holding your side in a firm grip to keep you hovering over his dick. He was going to spit again, but you sank down against him and he felt how wet you were, he sputtered out a groan and swallowed his spit. 

He reached down between you and grabbed his dick, trying to guide it to the right spot in the confusion of his lust clouded brain and how wet and hot everything felt. You grabbed his hand and aimed it right at your soaking entrance, and sank your hips down. 

His head barely nudged against your entrance before it slid away, up through your lips and bumping your sensitive clit roughly. You hissed at the feeling and he grunted in irritation. 

“Here-” You pulled back from him, which he objected to for a split second, the idea of you separating from him not an option he wanted to consider. But when you started laying down on your back he moved forward on top of you, grabbing your thigh to hike it up over his waist. 

The new angle made things much easier, although your tightness still proved to be a slight inconvenience. You cursed yourself for being so sexually inactive, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the burn of his tip slowly pushing inside you. 

His mouth found your neck as he lowered his body flat on yours, his weight nearly crushing your chest under his. He kissed your neck as he felt the resistance finally give, his head popping inside you and the rest of his dick pushing forward easier. 

You still saw stars when you closed your eyes, your body freezing from the mind numbing pleasure at the feeling of him filling you in a way you'd either never experienced, or had long forgotten. When the burn of the intrusion finally gave away and melted into complete bliss you relaxed under him, your hips angling up to drive him deeper. 

Daryl groaned in your neck, the sound stuttered as he fought to gain his bearings. His hand tugging his dick to the thought of you was something he never thought he'd top. The feeling of you wrapped around it was something he knew he'd never top. 

The tension between you broke and he finally began moving, dragging his dick out painfully slowly before plunging it back in, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle he'd been working on his whole life. 

He let out a low groan, sinking his teeth into the meat of your neck and bringing a high pitched cry from your mouth. 

“Nuh-uh.” He panted, his hips picking up a faster pace as he pulled away from your neck. “You gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” 

“Mhmm!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to look at him above you. His eyes dark, his mouth open as he breathed heavily, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. The sight had you arching your back, making him groan at the feeling of you squeezing and pulling on his dick. He really did look so fucking pretty. 

Daryl looked down at you, eyes tracing over your face twisted in pleasure, and he felt you grow wetter around him. The way your body responded to him had him trembling. He couldn't get enough of you. He needed more. He grabbed your hips, his grip firm enough to keep you in place as he sped up. 

The quickening of his rough thrusts had your head lolling to the side, each thrust knocking a breathless moan from your lips. They were quiet, to be heard by him alone, which was more than enough for him. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he fought to keep his composure, the last bit of him that he had under control worried about possibly hurting you. 

But that concern quickly went out the window when you started begging. 

“Please.” Your words bubbled from your chest, hot and desperate. “Please!”

“Please what?” He hissed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he fucked deep into you. “Use your words, tell me whatcha want. I'll give it to you.” 

“More, please, I don't know.” You babbled under him, trying your best to stay quiet. “Harder, more, I don't-” 

He moved on you, suddenly putting all the weight of his upper body into his grip on your hips, right before he started fucking you so hard you lost the ability to speak. 

Each thrust sent a bolt of sharp and deep pleasure through your pussy, up your body and ending with a tingle on your scalp. You couldn't moan, even if you wanted to, his movements were so rough it felt like each snap of his hips knocked the air from your lungs. You knew there'd be a deep imprint of your ass in the dirt tomorrow from how much weight he was boring down on you, and the sensation of that alone made your head spin. 

Your sharp gasps that were in sync with his thrusts neared a dangerous volume, and he slowed his hips, using the opportunity to catch his breath. 

“Ya gotta be quiet. M’serious.” He whispered, his thumbs pressing down on the sides of your stomach when your whimpers had yet to cease. “Gonna have to stop.”

You spewed out a soft stream of no’s, your hands wrapping around his wrists as if you had the strength to keep him there. “I will, sorry.”

He nodded in response and carried back on with quicker thrusts, his mouth open as he sucked in shaky breaths. Daryl couldn't take his eyes off you. He wished he had met you a year ago, before all this happened, so he could fuck you without worrying about walkers, getting caught, he wanted desperately to hear every sound he earned from you. He was the reason you were a broken mess; he deserved to hear and have all of you. 

Your right hand let go of his wrist to snake under his stomach, your flat fingers rubbing firm massages on your greedy clit. The sight had a choked moan sounding from his throat and you whined in response, the sound sending long bolts of pleasure through your core. 

“Daryl, so close.” You whispered, your toes curling from their spot at the base of his spine. 

He understood your meaning and set a steadier pace, not too rough or fast, but deep and steady enough to guarantee your final orgasm, since his first with you was approaching. 

Daryl wasn't stupid, he meant to pull out, truly, but when you came and squeezed his cock like a fist, he couldn't help it. His body trembled and he choked, gasping and whimpering as he came with you. 

Your jaw dropped and you saw more than stars, you saw the whole damn galaxy. Daryl quickly pressed his hand over your mouth to muffle your obscene moans, his hips stuttering as he finished the last drop in his orgasm. 

“My God. My God. Oh my God.” You panted after he removed his hand, your eyes bleary and wet, your body vibrating with exhausted shakes as your ecstasy slowly faded away. Your hands and feet felt cold and numb, and when he pulled away it felt like someone had taken something from you. You whimpered in a soft objection as his wrist left your grip. 

“Goddamn.” He sat back to stuff his raw dick back in his jeans, twitching when he felt the uncomfortable friction from his boxers, it was too stimulating. 

It took you some time to put your clothes back on, when you were finally dressed you were too exhausted to do anything but lay there on the blanket and catch your breath. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, sitting in silence to regain your bearings and enjoy the final moments of buzz from sex. As soon as he came down from his high, he grabbed the abandoned bottle of wine and drank nearly the rest of it. 

“I'm gonna go shower.” You breathed, sitting upright to find your shoes and put them back on. 

“G’night.” He muttered between swigs.

“Goodnight Daryl. That was amazing.” You thanked him with a quick kiss that seemed to startle him.

He sucked his teeth in embarrassment, waving you off as if to say, ‘it's nothing'. He watched you walk away, scratching the backs of your arms, itching from the grass. Daryl turned back to the woods and finished the bottle before chucking it into the field, eventually leaving for his tent, bringing your blanket with him. 

You took the best bath you could manage with your supplies; it wasn't as satisfying as a hot shower with your old fancy soaps and shampoos, but you were too exhausted to do more than just clean yourself. You barely even wrapped your hair with a towel before tripping into your room and falling on your bed. 

You yelped when you felt something hard like at your back and you leaned up on your elbow to see a small box with a note. 

From Lori. Use these next time. -Maggie

You sighed in relief when you saw it was emergency contraceptives and a pack of condoms, despite the pit in your stomach from knowing Maggie had seen you. It was something you should have already planned for yourself, the condoms, but it was hard to think straight when you were horny over Daryl Dixon. 

SHANE JUMPSCAPRE

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sin, sin, sin.

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, catholic church setting, confessional, rafe kind of pretending to be a priest (itll make sense quickly), religious trauma, if youre religious and easily offended probably skip this one

rafe knows little about his mother, but the one thing he does know is that she was a devout catholic. maybe it's stories ward told him, or the fact that his strongest memory of her was her funeral, held in the same catholic church he's currently pushing the grand wooden doors to enter.

it's his last chance as he looks into the candlelit hall. to turn around and go back into the darkness of the night, let the inky blackness swallow him whole.

rafe feels a pang in his chest. good old catholic guilt his mother passed down to him. rafe lets out a curse before he steps foot into the church, wishing he got his father's fake christianity instead, going to church on holidays and only using the religion when it suits you.

rafe looks away from the altar, the cross hanging above it, and to the confession booth to the side of the pews. his feet carry them there with the false confidence he's always been able to paste on as a front.

rafe looks at the door and then swallows thickly. guilt, guilt, guilt. he's not sure anything could help, yet he opens the handle and steps inside.

the creaky door slams shut behind him as rafe sits and faces forward towards the screen, just opaque enough to make out a figure on the other side in the low light.

rafe realizes then that he doesn't know the words. 

“forgive me father, for i have sinned.” a voice from the other side suddenly rings out, a soft, feminine voice. rafe suddenly is aware of his mistake. “it has been two days since my last confession.”

rafe knows he should interrupt you, stop you from continuing on, but something in him stirs him to stay, his interest peaking.

“ive slept with another man. i know you're tired of hearing it, father. i just can't help myself. i can't seem to wait, it's like something takes over me. father, i feel as if i am possessed by some sexual demon.” 

you scoff and rafe can see your body crumple on the other side, becoming an even smaller shape.

“tell me what happened.” rafe says.

“i-i had a date. a nice catholic man, or at least who i thought was a nice catholic man. he took me to dinner, and then i thanked him by getting on my knees immediately after.”

“keep going…” there's something about your voice that stirs rafe, has his hand gravitating to his crotch, there's a sexual prowess in your voice mixed with the guilt and innocence, like you're describing the deeds of some other woman entirely.

“he didn't even initiate it. i did. i pulled him into my apartment when he was dropping me back home. can you believe that? he was being a gentleman bringing me back to my doorstep and i just had to be a total hussy.”

rafe presses his hand down against his growing cock, imagining himself as that so called catholic gentleman.

“i unzipped his pants and tugged them down. he wasn't even hard. i played with him over his underwear, kissed his length and sucked on it and everything.”

rafes hands follow your description as he leans back against the wooden wall, tugging down his zipper and closing his eyes to picture it even better, some anonymous bold woman.

“i then pulled his underwear down. right there in the front hallway. when i saw him… i knew i was going to sleep with him next.”

you pause for long enough that rafe realizes he needs to speak. he hopes his voice doesn't come out strained. “then you slept with him?”

“yes. didn't even make it to the bedroom, he took me against the dining room table. how am i ever expected to settle down and have my own children and a loving family when all i really want is that high.”

“how does the high make you feel?”

“it comes right before the orgasm, really.” your voice drops in octave, and rafe wonders if your pussy is getting wet reimagining the scene. “when he's inside of me, pounding hard, and i know he's about to lose it too.”

rafe pushes his underwear down and tugs his cock out, not kid himself any longer that he's not extremely turned on and cannot leave the confessional with his pants tented.

“we're moaning in sync, not worrying about the neighbors in that moment. im clenching around him and he's-” you hesitate for a moment, and rafe swears he hears a sensual exhale, as if you may be touching yourself on the other side of the booth. “he's stretching me out. i love the pulsing of right when he's about to cum-”

rafe lets out a moan as he strokes before he realizes and sits up suddenly, but his reaction is too delayed as you're out of your booth and opening the door to his.

“you perv! father-” you come face to face with a handsome young man instead of the elderly priest you expected. “you're not the father.”

your eyes then travel down to his cock and that devious part of you taking over again.

“it-it was an accident.” rafe says quickly, trying to explain why he's in the priests side of the confessional when you step inside and close the door behind you.

“i have another sin to confess.” you pull the skirt of your dress up, revealing that you're wearing nothing beneath, your glimmering wet pussy directly in front of rafes face. he could so easily lean forward and taste you.

“ive always wanted to fuck in the confessional.”

rafe grabs your hips and tugs you down. he doesn't even know your name. he doesn't need to as his lips smash against yours, wildly making out.

you reach down between your bodies, grasping rafes hard cock and giving it a few strokes before you line yourself up.

you hesitate for just a moment before sinking down as rafe moans into your mouth, hoping that his mother isn't up in heaven looking down at him desecrating this holy place with you.

you gasp and pull away from the kiss as you adjust, your pussy being stretched just the way you described liking it.

“fuck.” rafe hisses out.

“shouldn't curse in a place of worship.” you smirk at him, cutting off whatever reply he had as you begin to move, bouncing up and down.

rafe grabs your hips, helping you move. his hands are strong as they disappear beneath your dress, needing to feel your bare skin.

“so good.” you whimper, pressing your forehead against rafes, breathing heavily as the temperature in the small booth rises.

“fuck, your pussy-” rafe grunts out as his hips begin to snap up into your tight heat. 

“you ever had a good catholic girl like this?” there's a hint of playfulness in your voice that rafe is shocked you can manage with your labored breathing.

“from your confession, im not sure you're all that good.” rafe says, moving his hand to rub his thumb over your clit, mostly just to see the reaction on your face as you moan out.

hes thankful for the late hour as he doesn't move his mouth forward to silence yours, letting your beautiful symphony of pleasure escape through the confessional walls and fill the church.

“this high.” you arch your back, eyes rolling back in your head as your fingers tighten on rafes shoulders. 

he knows exactly what you're speaking of. that moment when you're both on the apex, his cock swelling inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit, doing anything he can to elicit a reaction out of you, to increase your pleasure even more.

“cum for me.” rafe commands in a shockingly even voice, even surprising himself as your body stills and then shakes, crumpling forward into rafes strong arms as your pussy clenches around rafes cock, and it's all he needs to release himself, thrusting upwards and spilling inside of your cunt.

you're both breathing heavily as you come down from your high, wrapped up in each others bodies and your own intersecting pleasure before you have to pull away, realization setting in.

“oh my god.” you giggle. “we just fucked in the church.”

“shit.” rafe laughs as well. this is certainly not what he meant to do when entering into the church, yet his soul still feels lighter as he looks at your smile.

“god,” you look up at the ceiling, as if you're talking to him directly. “im so sorry. im going to hell.”

“i guess ill see you there.” rafe chuckles before he's interrupted by a gasp as you pull off of him.

rafe is quick to get himself back together, very aware of the fact that you're still bare under your dress, his cum no doubt dropping down your thigh.

you push open the door to the tiny booth and take a breath of cool air before rafe is quick to follow you out.

“i thought i heard a noise.”

you both freeze as you look up to see the nun walking from across the aisle.

“do you need the priest? he's already retired for the night.”

“no, sister.” you respond, a soft, innocent smile gracing your features as you grasp rafes hand and pull him to continue towards the exit. “see you at service sunday.”

you both let out a laugh as you push open the large wooden doors and flee from any more questions.

“can i at least get your name?” rafe asks as you enter into the night, way lit by moonlight.

“no.” you smile back at him. “but i will have another confession to make. tomorrow. same time.”

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 3: 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.

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Some people give, some people take.

The world is a very complicated place, but it’s been a long time since you understood the balance is meant to be broken. Few rejoice youth’s spring, and only because most suffer the harshness of winter’s duties.

Kento knows that too. He saw spring escape from between his fingers as blood warmed his skin and worries filled his mind. A renowned soldier aware of the stupidity of the war he fought.

And he can’t ignore it. He tried, it would be so much easier to go on looking only at the path ahead of him, but Kento can’t. Isn’t that one of the reasons why you fell in love with him? Because he’s good. Because he cares.

Kento became the person that could’ve saved him once his youth rotted. Damn, Kento became the person that would’ve been able to save you when yours faded. He gives, wholeheartedly.

You only wish he would take something for himself too.

How many dreams have he chose to ignore? How many desires have he gave up on? For a man relying on the believe people are fundamentally entitled to have time, Kento doesn’t appear to have noticed how badly he deprives himself of it too.

The creak in the mattress made your eyes flutter open. “Kento?”, you babbled, fighting against your heavy eyelids.

He sighed. “I’m sorry”, Kento whispered. His body involved yours, his cold lips leaving kisses on your bare shoulder. “Go back to sleep, amor.”

You faced him, fingers intertwined with his golden locks. You stroked them, nails scratching lightly his head. Kento’s arms tightened against you. The tension on his body was palpable.

Curtains closed, your phone away so you would need to get up in the morning to turn off the alarm, the lampshade forgotten in the bedside table: you could still see his exhaustion. You felt it in the way Kento couldn’t let you go. You heard it in his deep breath. And smell it in the salty air, a subtle suggestion that blood was washed away.

“Was it bad?”

He hesitated. “Almost”, Kento said.

Your nails moved to his ear. Lightly, you caressed it. Your thumb followed the line of his jaw, the delicate valley of his lips, the veins of his neck. “I can make you forget about it”, you offered. You moved closer, leg sliding between his thighs.

Kento said nothing. Your knee found his crotch, pressing against it. Moving your open palm against his chest, you made a mental note to be good and soft. Your man had enough of rough for the night.

Supported on your elbow, you gave your warmth to his lips. A sweet kiss, innocent as if you couldn’t feel his cock hardening. Kento opened his lips, you almost taste the toothpaste.

And then he turned his face away, depriving himself once more. “I want this. You”, he sounded almost apologetic. As if he did something wrong. “But I’m so tired.”

 You moved your leg away, a deep sigh escaping from Kento’s throat. You took his hand from your hips, massaging his fingers as you led them to your mouth. “Dream with me”, you kissed each of his knuckles.

Kento chuckled. “I always do.”

He went back to hugging you, eyes closing as Kento adjusted his head on the pillow. You scratched his head, and continued even after he told you to rest.

Kento was really tired. He didn’t even call you stubborn.

You admired him. It was so dark, but your eyes still couldn’t look anywhere else. Such a sweet man. Always strong, always ready. The hand that executes is the same that holds you with care. The man that keeps on breathing out of rage wouldn’t dream of showing you anything but his love.

If there has to be a majority suffering, if this needs to be a rule, then you want Kento to be with the few. You wouldn’t mind feeling all the pain alone. As long as it’s his.

And now, already deep asleep, you can still feel him. Half rigid against your tummy. Kento Nanami, a man so used to not have what he wants. Your man, ever the sweetest, never taking what he desires.

So, if Kento won’t take, you’ll give to him. Wholeheartedly.

Your body is his. No complains from Kento will convince you that bleeding in his place isn’t the right thing to do. No pain will stop you from fighting battles alongside him. No tiredness will ever make you think twice before using your domain so he can heal properly.

Your mind is his too. When you look at Kento, all you do is wonder about his needs. Gazing at his eyes, you look for signs of exhaustion. At his thin cheeks, you plan healthy meals. His clothes make you turn on or off the heater. No sickness can get to him before you already know what medicine to buy.

His clock wouldn’t agree, and neither does Kento, but he owns your time too.

Slowly, you moved away from his embrace. The mattress creaked again, and you waited for him to say something. Kento couldn’t have noticed it less.

Your fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt. Putting the soft fabric away, you revealed his torso. Surrounded by darkness, you knew where to kiss every scar. One day you’ll draw stars all around them. Your nails explored the skin of his body, every line and curve remembered carefully by your mind.

Gently, you pressed his nipples between your fingers. You licked them, feeling as they grew rigid, and sucked on them. Leaving a glistening trail of saliva behind, you kissed his whole chest with open mouth.

You kneeled on the mattress, catching your breath. Stretching, you turned the lampshade on. If Kento wakes up, you want him to see how willing you’re to make him feel good. You know he’ll enjoy the sight as much as you love being seen.

Pulling down his boxers, you grabbed his half-hard cock. You pressed your thumb against the rosy head, biting your lips at the feel of him. A baffled grunt made to your ears.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

Placing a kiss over the head, you brushed your nose against his growing erection. Holding Kento, you sucked his heavy balls. The sound of it in the middle of a silent night made you feel like a sinner.

Hell doesn’t seem like that bad of a place now.

You licked his length, losing your mind at the muffled sounds he made. Making out with his head, you drooled over him. What a mess you were making. What a mess your mind was.

Oh, Kento. Such a giver. Always so careful. How you want to break him. Make him fall apart for you. To get Kento crying, begging for all his desires to come true. You would do anything he wanted. If only he would ask you.

Lost on your own fantasies, you chocked on him. So eager. You pumped his cock wet with your drool, so hard between your fingers, and prepared your jaw.

As you took him in, the tender flesh stretched you. Salty against your tongue. You chocked again, but this time you simply continued. With tears forming in your eyes, you devoured him.

You didn’t even notice when Kento’s eyes fluttered open. When the small grunts turned into sensitive moans. When he tried to move, half present and half lost in a sweet dream.

“Wh- “, his fingers grabbed the sheets. Kento moved his neck, the sudden motion burning his wounded back, and looked down. “Oh, fuck.”

Looking at you, eyes closed as you took his entirety into your mouth, Kento shuddered. His body fell on the pillows, hands grabbing your hair without a worry about not being gentle. He couldn’t think. Kento couldn’t do anything but feel.

His hips moved on their own, his mind nowhere to be found. Kento whimpered, eyes closed so hard he could see blurs all around. Was he dreaming still? It feels like one.

Deep into your throat, feeling it gagging around him, Kento cried. Sobbing, tears feel on his ears. It was too good, too sudden. His legs were shaking, his throat burning. Lost in a dream, unaware of how his fingers forced your head down on his length, Kento panted your insides with his thick load.

You didn’t allow one drop to go wasted.

After his high came to an end, Kento noticed he wasn’t breathing. He opened his mouth, trying to get as much air as he could. His throat ached as Kento gasped, surprised by the sweetest kiss he ever received.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered against his lips. Stroking the golden locks, you kissed his chin and cheeks. “Go back to sleep.”

So Kento laughed. Like a maniac. “You are…” Dizzy eyes glared at you, his mouth left hanging open. He smiled. You couldn’t see, but you heard it. He left kisses all over your face. “Dream with me”, he asked.

“I always do”, was your response.

Was the truth.       

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© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[strlvvr]

my best friend's brother (is the one for me) - matt sturniolo x reader

where y/n has had a crush on her best friend nick’s brother for years

word count: 1.1k words

“i’m not setting you up with my brother.” nick said as he was unlocking the door to his house.

“oh come onnnn,” i whined walking into the house behind him, “he’s so fine though.”

“i’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that actually.” he laughed as matt came out of his room. i stopped for a second or two staring at him. i took in what he was wearing, grey fresh love sweatpants and a tight tank top. his hair all over the place, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"what did she say?" he questioned with tiredness in his voice. "nothing, nothing." i quickly replied eyeing nick not to say anything to his brother.

"you do know it's two p.m. right?" nick asked matt seeing the boy still in pajamas and obviously tired. 

"and? can't a man sleep in?" he said sarcastically. i couldn't help but laugh as i put the snacks me and nick had just bought in the fridge. "why are you laughing miss ‘sleep until four p.m.’? you can't be saying anything here." matt eyed me making me stop laughing as soon as he spoke.

"hey now, i haven't done that in months. didn't you just do that, let me see, yesterday?" i retorted watching him roll his eyes at my comment. 

i've been friends with the triplets since high school and moved out to l.a. around the same time as them. we became closer with the move, all of us looking for houses and making sure whatever houses we found weren't too far from each other.

i've had a crush on matt since we first met. only recently have i realized it's way more than a crush. i find myself craving him and his presence. we've always had more of a flirty friendship, which didn't help any of my feelings towards him. his nicknames for me bordering pet names, sweetheart, princess, baby.

“whatever you say, princess.” 

“of course we can get food, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to not live by you, baby.”

of course i never believed he ever meant anything by it, but they still made my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat. the way he said it so casually but yet so lovingly never failed to have me in my head wondering if he really meant what he said.

"what'd you guys get me?" chris asked the second he walked up and saw the bags, no "how are you guys" or "how was the trip".

"nothing. you said you didn't want anything. all four times we asked you." nick said after grabbing one of the drinks we had just bought. i grabbed the pepsi i knew he wanted, along with some of his usual snacks and threw them to him.

"see at least y/n loves me." chris said to nick and then stuck his tongue out at him.

"did you get me anything?" matt asked walking over to me, not stopping til he was right behind me. my breath hitched as he put his hand on my waist.

"yeah, a root beer and the food you texted me about." i replied as calmly as i could, secretly hoping he wouldn't leave his spot to grab them. 

"thank you, baby." he whispered into my ear before he pulled away to go find everything, his hand trailing my lower back as he walked away.

he knew what he was doing. there was no way he didn't. i know he feels the way my body shifts into him, the way my breathing gets heavier, the effect only he seems to have on me.

“what are we watching tonight?” i asked while walking over to put my drink on the coffee table, and then grabbing my blanket from the basket. 

“what about retribution?” matt suggested sitting in his usual spot on the couch next to me.

“you only wanna watch that for liam neeson.” i told him, grabbing the remote to put on something that wasn’t a liam neeson movie.

“yeah, but he’s just so good.” matt emphasized, moving his arms around trying to make a point.

“what about the crow?” i asked everyone, only to be met with groans from everyone.

“yeah for the thousandth time? no thanks.” chris said, rolling his eyes and throwing popcorn at me. 

“yeah and it’s my turn to choose a movie tonight so i don’t see the problem here..” i told him while going to amazon prime and searching up the movie. 

as the movie got to my favorite scene, i moved closer to matt to lay on his shoulder. as i was moving he pulled his arm up for me to be closer. as the movie got more gruesome, i felt him hiding in my hair so he didn’t have to watch.

“something funny?” matt asked once he felt me laughing.

“yeah, you. you do this every time at this exact part too.” i looked up at him still laughing a bit, only to find him already looking at me. i put my head back down onto his chest to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks, directing my attention back to my favorite movie.

“i don’t know why you like this movie so much, it’s weird.” nick complained, obviously intrigued in the movie though. 

i roll my eyes, “is that why you’re still watching?”

as the movie went on and i got more tired, i moved down into matt’s lap and put my feet up on the couch. once i was comfortable, i felt matt start to shift around underneath me. 

“can you stop moving around, you’re bothering me.” i almost yelled at him, while trying to stay comfortable.

“sorry sweetheart.” he said, moving his hand to my hair, slightly massaging my head. after a couple minutes of that, i was starting to fall asleep. i woke up to him adjusting himself, yet again. this time he got up and started walking towards the bathroom. 

“where are you going?” i whined, missing the comfort of him.

“nowhere, just the bathroom.” he said quietly, before rushing off to the bathroom. i moved into his spot, trying to keep what was left of the warmth before he got up. i squint my eyes in confusion, wondering why he rushed off so quickly. but i decided to ignore it and got up and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. i heard something behind me when i closed the fridge, i turned and saw a disheveled matt behind me. 

“you okay?” i questioned once i took in the sight in front of me.

“all good, sweetheart.” he answered, with a familiar look in his eye that made my knees weak. 

“you wanna grab me another drink while we’re here?” he asked, still staring at me.“oh yeah, sure,” i turn back to the fridge to grab whatever was in there for him. as i handed it to him i couldn’t help but watch him take the can, the way his fingers wrapped around it had my mind going places it shouldn’t be going.

especially not about my best friend’s brother.

tag list:

@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0

[myth1cs]

Completing the mission (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Even more smut and I'm still sorry for it.

Word Count: 2067

Mina was arriving at a party and preparing to carry out the mission

Her boss Bangchan has set her on an important mission to steal important documents from Y/N the host of the party.

Mina was an agent for hire. She didn't know the specifics for why Bangchan wanted her to steal those documents but as long as she was getting paid she could care less. She just needed to complete the mission whatever the cost.

Mina was struggling in her home life. It was hard to pay the bills and buy enough food to feed herself. So she decided to become an agent for hire, selling her services for a price. An expensive price, after all she was good at her job, she couldn't sell her skills for nothing after all.

This party was her best chance to steal the documents. If she failed then she wouldn't get paid and surely would be punished, the pressure was on.

As she was arriving at the door to enter the party she pulled out the invitation Bangchan gave her. Y/N sent Bangchan an invitation but he gave it to Mina and texted Y/N he would send his secretary in his place because he felt sick and wouldn't be able to attend.

Y/N believed Bangchan as he didn't think Bangchan had a reason to lie to him.

The guard at the door accepted Mina's invitation and let her in. Her mission had officially begun. As she walked in she saw some of the biggest CEO's from the biggest companies in the country. She felt a bit tense but she composed herself and started walking around to get a basic layout of Y/N's house.

As Mina walked through the house suddenly heard someone call her name.

"Hey I don't recognize you"

Mina turned around and she saw him the host of the party Y/N.

"I'm Bangchans secretary Mina he sent you a message telling you he would send me on his behalf." as Mina said this she noticed Y/N was trying to subtly scan her body. He didn't do a good job at it as Mina quickly caught him but she decided to stay quiet about it.

"Well Mina let me show you around it would be rude not to." Y/N said as he held his hand out to Mina. She was just trying to complete her mission and get out as quickly as possible but having a good relationship with Y/N could help lower her suspicion as she wasn't sure Y/N trusted her.

"Yeah sure." Mina said as she grabbed Y/N's hand.

Y/N walked her around his house introducing her to the other guests and asking her questions about her job.

Eventually Y/N took Mina to his winery. "Do you care for a drink Mina?" Y/N asked while grabbing a bottle.

"I could go for a drink but please let me fill your drink" Mina said trying to grab the bottle from Y/N's hands.

"Oh no let me I am your host after all, I should be the one treating my guests" Y/N said as he pulled the bottle away.

Mina was getting nervous, her original plan was to put sleeping pills into Y/N's drink so she could find the code to Y/N's safe and steal the documents without worrying about getting caught. She couldn't let Y/N serve the drinks.

"No really I insist" Mina said with a little more force which slightly shocked Y/N. He didn't know Mina could be so intense.

Y/N handed Mina the bottle "Well if you insist then I guess I won't stop you." He said while being a little scared of Mina.

"Hey Y/N could you bring some ice I like having my alcohol with ice" Mina didn't actually like her alcohol with ice she just needed an excuse to get Y/N out of the room.

"Sure I don't mind" Y/N said as he left the room. As soon as Y/N was out of sight she quickly grabbed the cups and started pouring the alcohol in them. Then she grabbed the pills and crunched them up and dropped them into Y/N's cup.

She quickly went to the bathroom and flushed the bottle that the pills were held in into the toilet.

When she got back she saw Y/N was already their.

"Where did you go Mina? You weren't here when I got back."

"I was just using the restroom" Mina quickly responded.

Y/N looked at her with a hint of doubt in his eyes but he just brushed it off.

Y/N picked up a glass and handed it to Mina. "Well let's drink up Mina and say cheers on behalf of Bangchan who couldn't make it today." Y/N said while smiling at her.

Mina grabbed the drink and did a toast with Y/N.

She started drinking her cup while carefully watching Y/N waiting to see any hints of sleepiness in him. She decided to stay near Y/N until she saw any signs of him getting tired.

Some time has passed and the party is still ongoing yet. She was sitting at a table in the corner of a room with Y/N and they've been talking this whole time and yet Mina hasn't seen any signs of tiredness from Y/N. She could have sworn the pills were supposed to take effect by now so what gives?

As Mina started thinking of why Y/N hasn't shown any signs of sleepiness she suddenly had a feeling not of tiredness but of something else.

She was getting horney.

She didn't understand why even if she did accidentally drink the cup she made for Y/N she should be getting sleepy not horney. But then Mina had a thought.

Before she left for her mission she grabbed a bottle from her drawer but she didn't bother to check the label as most of the pills she keeps are ones to put people to sleep. However she does keep one that holds a different type of pills. An aphrodisiac, she had it in case she ever needed it for a mission but she never actually intended to use it.

Mina realized she grabbed the wrong bottle from her drawer and now she was in big trouble. She thought she failed the mission since she was getting to friendly with Y/N earlier he would definitely notice if she was gone for a prolonged period of time and get suspicious.

But she couldn't admit defeat that easily she had to find a different way. As she started to think of something she could do she started to rub her thighs together to get some tension. Y/N kept talking to her about ... well who knows what she wasn't listening to him after all her mind was filled with panic, lust, and thoughts of how to get out of this situation.

"Mina are you okay? I feel like my words are going in one ear and leaving the other" Y/N said slightly annoyed that Mina wasn't paying attention to him.

"Uhm~ yeah I'm just ... very deep in thought" Mina said while feeling her face getting hotter. She needed something to relieve herself she couldn't focus on her mission until she felt relief.

"Mina if you need to lay down you can-" Before Y/N could finish his sentence he was cut off.

"Y/N show me to a room" Mina said in a desperate voice.

"O-okay Mina calm down" Y/N said a little confused on why Mina sounded so needy.

Y/N grabbed Minas hand and walked her to the guest bedroom. Mina was trying her best to hold urges but she was at her limit. Eventually they got to the guest bedroom and Y/N closed the door behind them.

"Well you can stay in here unt-" Y/N was quickly cut off by Mina who latched her lips onto his.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden move by Mina and pulled her off of him. "Mina what are you-"

Mina locked the door and looked at Y/N with lust in her eyes. "Y/N I saw you checking me out earlier, please I need you right now"

Y/N pulled Mina to him and kissed her back. Y/N's hands roamed Minas body. Y/N's hands reached down and squeezed Mina's butt. Mina moaned into Y/N's mouth.

"Ahh~ Fuck" Mina kept making noise under Y/N's touch. Their hands were roaming each other's bodies while lustfully kissing each other.

Mina was getting a little needy. She needed more than Y/N's touch. "Y/N get this dress off me" Mina said with urgency in her voice.

Y/N started to quickly take Mina's dress off exposing her breasts and pussy to the cold air.

Y/N put one hand on one of Mina's breasts and another on Mina's butt. Mina squirmed and she couldn't take it. "Y/N please touch me where I most need it"

Y/N liked seeing Mina so needy and he wasn't keen on giving Mina what she wanted so quickly.

Y/N pinched Mina's nipple and kissed her more roughly. "Now now Mina were getting a little too needy." As he said this he could see slight annoyance in Mina. "Oh shut up and put your dick in me"

Y/N picked Mina up and put her on the bed. "Such a dirty mouth you have Mina, what would Bangchan think if he heard such words coming from his secretary?"

"Oh shut up Y/N" Mina said with a mix of annoyance and neediness. She grabbed Y/N's hand and put it up to her pussy.

While Y/N did want to tease Mina, when he felt the warmth of Mina's pussy he lost all his will to continue teasing her and gave in.

Y/N fingered Mina's pussy in quick manner not letting Mina adjust to his fingers. "OH SHIT" Mina yelled but she quickly covered her mouth to muffle it. "Your so loud Mina do you want everyone to know how your getting fucked?"

Mina couldn't respond as she was too focused on the mix of pain and pleasure she was receiving. Y/N curled his fingers in Mina and it sent her closer to release. "I'm close"

When Y/N heard that he immediately pulled his fingers out. Mina whined when she felt his fingers leave as she was close to cumming. "Y/N you fucking bitch" Mina said while panting.

Y/N ignored Mina and took off his pants revealing his dick which was already hard. Mina gasped, she knew what was about to happen. "Y/N wait your not wearing any-"

Y/N ignored Mina's plea and shoved his dick in Mina. Mina almost let out a loud scream but quickly covered her mouth.

For the next few minutes Y/N pumped his dick in and out of Mina. Every now and then they would engage in a lustful kiss or put their hands on each other.

Eventually Y/N was getting at his limit. "Mina I'm going to cum" Y/N said feeling exhausted.

"Let me swallow your cum" Mina said. She really didn't want to but she needed a reason to not let Y/N cum in her.

Y/N got a few final pumps in before he exited Mina's warm and tight pussy. Mina sat up and took Y/N's dick in her mouth and started sucking. Not long after Y/N came in Mina's mouth.

After coming off from such a high Y/N got exhausted and fell asleep on the bed.

Mina swallowed the thick cum. She really didn't think Y/N would have so much cum in him. She got up and got herself clean with the tissues which were next to the bed.

Mina put on her dress and put perfume on her to get the smell of sex off of her.

She took this chance to go to Y/N's room to look for the code to the safe. She eventually found the code and typed it into the safe.

Mina left the party with the documents in hand. She got her phone and called Bangchan.

"I completed the mission"

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

"Wow myth1cs you really like yapping huh?"

Yes.

Also don't expect this type of schedule this is a rare case of me actually having motivation.