#i want to see clearly out of this eye please find out what’s actually wrong and fix it

[caitlynmeow]

guess who’s anxiety said fuck waiting a whole week it’s been four days with no change so let’s have multiple breakdowns/ panic attacks because this is fun

anyway i got my shit together and decided to go back to see my doctor because my eye is not doing any better after 4 days of medicating it around the clock 🙂

[justauthoring]

I really like your Tokyo revengers He’s Taken scenario. What if it happened in reverse where someone told the boys that they would be a better fit for reader <3

TOKYO REVENGERS - UM, SHE'S TAKEN?

includes: manjiro "mikey" sano, hanma shuji, baji keisuke and kazutora hanemiya all include xfem!reader!

a/n: this is so late but i felt i should actually do a request for once :) and i always love me some jealous boys!

MIKEY:

The audacity of this man.

That was all Mikey could think.

Did he not know who he was? Did he not know who you were dating? The Invisible Mikey, Toman's Leader and the most handsome boy you knew?

Clearly not.

Frowning, Mikey watches with barely concealed disdain as your classmate (the one you’ve been complaining to him about for weeks now) follows you outside of the school. He couldn’t always pick you up from school with Toman business and the like, but today he’d made sure he’d be able to after you’d texted him the day before that your annoying classmate had proceeded to take his infatuation with you a step further and follow you out of school. It had taken you great convincing to get him not to ‘walk you home’ as he so eloquently put it – stalking more like it – and though you’d tried to play it off, Mikey knew how scared you were.

The second your eyes fall on Mikey making his way over to you, he sees the instant relief that floods through them. Despite everything, Mikey can't help but feel slightly smug at that, hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets as he crosses the distance over to you.

"Y/N-channn!" He calls out, arms stretched out towards you and with a single brief glance at the boy next to you, you all but race towards him, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Mikey hates the way he feels you shake slightly beneath his fingertips, and he throws a not-so-subtle glare the classmates way, who – as he figured – is glaring right back at him.

"Y/N," the classmate calls, and Mikey's eyes narrow at his familiarity when regarding you. "Who's this?"

You lean back from his hug, and Mikey can see you look rather annoyed at the question – clearly, you've told him this before.

"Mikey," Mikey cuts in dryly, "her boyfriend."

And he must really not know who Mikey is because he has the gall to laugh.

"Boyfriend?" Haru laughs, mockingly and loudly, head thrown back as you cast a quick glance up at Mikey in uncertainy, trying to gauge he's reaction. Truthfully, Mikey looks unphased. "I thought you were joking about that, Y/N."

And then Haru steps forward, moving towards you; "I mean, you and me make a much better–"

It happens in a flash. Suddenly, you're no longer in Mikey's arms and rather set gently behind him, Mikey’s body blocking your view as Haru's hand that was outstretched towards you is now tightly grasped in Mikey's fist. A quick glance at Haru's face, and you can tell that Mikey's grip is tight, his face twisting with pain.

"Did I forget to mention?" Mikey smiles, "I'm also the leader of Toman."

Haru's eyes widen and he looks scared–well, shitless.

Mikey's grip tightens, finding the way all colour leaves Haru's face rather amusing and the way the panic wells with pain as Mikey bends his arm to the point of just being about to break.

"Now, what was that about you and Y/N-chan being a better match?"

"I was wrong!" Haru cries, voice pitching pathetically, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Don't apologize to me," Mikey shrugs, "apologize to Y/N-chan for making her so uncomfortable for the past few weeks."

Slowly, Mikey takes a step back, allowing you to fall in the view of Haru again, who, near crying, falls to his knees. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"

Cheeks red slightly in embarrassment, you turn to Mikey.

He lets go with ease, Haru falling to the ground with one last cry, before Mikey makes his way to you, pulling you back into his arms with a wide grin.

"Let's go eat!" Mikey calls out with a cheer, snuggling into you. "I want you to feed me!"

HANMA:

"I mean, you're no good for her."

There's a beat. One long, single beat of silence before Hanma can't hold himself back anymore and he burst into laughter.

You, whose stood next to him, looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening as Hanma all but cackles in response to Asahi's words. Asahi, to be fair, looks just a stunned, and with a frown, you step towards your boyfriend, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Shuji!" You hiss, grip tightening on him.

He falls quiet at that, letting his eyes drift across you briefly, taking in the worried look in your eyes and the laughter stops at that. Hanma lets his eyes fall back on this boy, Asahi apparently, and the frown deepens – you were scared of this guy? He looked like wind might blow him over.

Besides, didn't you trust him to protect you?

A single glance back at you, and you're still throwing worried glances at Asahi, shuffled close to his side.

Guess he had something else to prove then.

"That's funny," Hanma finally speaks up, letting his eyes fall on Asahi with disinterest. "Hilarious actually." But all the humour has left his body, and Hanma simply stares back at the boy with a straight face.

Asahi falters, just slightly.

"I-I mean, you're a deliquent!" He calls out, gesturning in front of him at Hanma, before his eyes fall on you. "I mean, surely you can see that being with him will be nothing but a bad influence. If you were–"

Hanma steps in front of you, blocking you effectively from him.

"You don't get to talk to her," Hanma states rather bluntly.

Asahi turns to him, lips parting.

"You're not worthy enough to talk to her, pipsqueak. So let's keep this between you and me, huh?"

The air changes, thickens, and although you can't see it, you can practically sense as Asahi grows nervous, registering the glint in Hanma's gaze as he stares him down.

"I mean, surely, if you knew I was a... what did you say? Delinquent." Hanma snorts, "you think you'd have the brains to realize I'm not someone to mess with. And I don't take kindly to idiots like you trying to tell me who my girl should or shouldn't be with."

Hanma takes a step forward then, towering over the boy whose skin has grown pale, eyes flooding with fear as he stares up at Hanma.

"I especially don't take kindly to you scaring my girl either."

"I-I–"

Grabbing Asahi by the collar of his jacket, Asahi falls silent as Hanma pulls him up until he's standing on the tip of his toes, kicking his feet beneath him.

"But it seems I screwed up too, huh? My girl shouldn't have to be afraid because she should know I'd never let anyone touch her, let alone look at her if they made her uncomfortable."

There's a pause and Hanma's gaze grows wild as his fist slowly raises beside him, Asahi's cries of panic and pleads of mercy simply a background noise.

"So it looks like I gotta show her why."

BAJI:

"You're loud."

Well, Baji guessed he couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"You're rash."

That, too... maybe.

"You're not very smart."

Uh, ouch.

"You act without thinking. It could get Y/N hurt."

Okay, well that was just rude.

You were always Baji's top priority.

Well, that and fighting. But, still.

"I think I'd be a much better fit for her."

Baji should've figured this is where the conversation was going. Letting his eyes drift across the boy stood in front of him, he takes in the sight of his Toman uniform. He doesn't readily recognize the boy, so he's certainly not in his division.

Ballsy, he'd admit.

But stupid nonetheless.

He's probably in Mitsuya's division, Baji laughs to himself.

Well, not for much longer.

"I'll take your silence as a sign you agree with me–"

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Baji chuckles, grinning down widely at the boy. "What makes you think you're so great for Y/N? I know she's happy with me."

Lips parting, the boy pauses; "what?"

"You listed off all the reasons why you think I'm not a good fit for her, right?" He quirks a brow, and the boy nods. "So, tell me why you think you're a good match for her. You win, I'll break up with Y/N. And if you lose... well, needless to say." With a wide grin, Baji cracks his knuckles, baring his fists down at the boy.

The boys eyes widen, and he fumbles for a second, before he steels himself, inhaling deeply.

"Well, I'm smart, for one–"

"Wrong," Baji cuts in, "Y/N doesn't like smart guys. Why else would she have gone for me?"

Faltering, the boy shakes his head; "w-well, I'm a good cook–"

"Y/N prefers cooking herself," Baji shakes his head. "It's her passion."

Cheeks redenning, the boy rushes to add; "I-I'm! I'm strong!"

Baji just laughs; "not as strong as me. You're not even a vice captain of Toman!"

Thoroughly embarrassed, the boy hesitates, face bright red.

"Looks like you lose," Baji sings, stepping towards the boy. "I mean, if you really knew Y/N, you'd know the most important thing."

"W-What?"

"That none of that matters because she loves me!"

"You can't just–"

He never finishes what he's about to say before a fist makes contact with his cheek, knocking him off his feet and sending him straight to the ground.

Baji glances down at him with a blink.

"Strong my ass."

He makes a move toward him, before;

"Keisuke!"

Eyes lighting up, Baji spins, grinning at the sight of you. "Y/N!"

You fall in front of him, eyes flickering from the boy groaning on the ground back to him, "did you get in another fight again?"

Baji shrugs; "the guy deserved it. Not much of a fight either.”

And your eyes fall back on the boy on the ground and there's a flicker of hope where he thinks you might help but, but then after a moment you follow Baji's lead, shrugging, letting him take your hand in his before leading him off.

Guess Baji was right – you really did love him.

KAZUTORA:

"I mean, didn't you go to juvie?"

Frowning, Kazutora glares at the man, Daiki as he'd introduced himself as, in front of him. He was apparently a co-worker of yours, though Kazutora's never heard you talk about him before.

Stuck at this party your work was holding for you as a celebration for the promotion you'd received and your excellent work at the company, Kazutora had gotten a whole half hour of your time before you'd been whisked off by two woman, you offering an apologetic smile over your shoulder in response.

At the time, Kazutora hadn't minded – this night was for you after all and he wanted you to enjoy it.

Now, though? He desperately wanted to leave.

"How do you even know that?" Kazutora asks, his patience thin.

"I did some research when Y/N mentioned your name," Daiki shrugs. "Of course, when she mentioned you she hadn't mentioned that."

It's obviously meant as a jab. But Kazutora knew you weren't embarrassed of him – at least, he'd been pretty sure of that.

"Well, it's not really any of your business is it?" Kazutora cuts in, barely able to contain the snide in his tone. He barely liked socializing with people anyway, especially strangers, but he'd gone for you and because he wanted to be apart of your celebration. It was the least he could do after all you'd done for him.

But now he wishes he’d stayed home if he had to continue dealing with this guy.

"Still," Daiki insists, "aren't you embarrassed? I mean, such an upstanding woman... it's a wonder why she ever chose you."

"I chose him because I love him for him," you cut in and Kazutora’s eyes widen, glancing over his shoulder to see you making your way over to him. You look absolutely stunning, dressed in a floor length Y/F/C dress and when you notice his eyes on you, you smile at him, before it falters as you turn back to glance at your coworker. "But I hardly think that's any of your business anyways."

You fall next to Kazutora, wrapping your arm around his waist as you fall into his side, and the second you do, you squeeze Kazutora's side, and he realizes you're trying to reassure him.

"Y/N–!"

"Honestly, Daiki," you breathe out, voice coming out purposely exasperated as you roll your eyes. "I've had this conversation with you multiple times. I am happily in a relationship and your obsession with my personal affairs is strange and inappropriate. Given my promotion, I could easily have you fired."

Kazutora watches as the man's eyes widen, cheeks bleeding red as he shakes his head; "my-my apologies. Please, you don't have to go that far. I'll... I'll make sure I stop."

You raise a brow, holding the man with bated breath for a moment, before you nod. "Just don't let it happen again."

Daiki scurries off without another word, desperate to get away and Kazutora watches as you let out a sigh, shoulders falling as you shift, coming to stand in front of him, hands falling on his hips.

"I'm sorry about him. He's been... annoyingly persistant about asking me out for the past bit. I thought he'd have stopped when I reported him last week but when I saw him talking to you just now, I realized he hadn't."

Kazutora glances down at you, meeting your gaze.

You understand what he's trying to say before he even does; "nuh-uh," you shake your head, tugging him closer to you. "Don't let a word that idiot says get to you. He's just a pervert anyways. He spends half of his time looking down my shirt and I would never want to be with someone like him over you."

Biting his lips, Kazutora smiles softly; "I love you."

"I love you too," you grin, before slipping your hand into his. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to my friends."

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)

[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]

tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end

miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him

having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream

he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over

and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces

"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"

"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"

"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.

"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"

"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"

it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.

miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"

he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"

shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands

his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms

and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((

he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.

"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters

"amor-"

before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom

"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you

he finds you at the sink

running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly

miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you

he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror

"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."

you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."

you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."

"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."

you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."

"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.

he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."

you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries

the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms

he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.

"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."

you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.

"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"

"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.

"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.

"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."

miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love

patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.

miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."

he kisses your nose. "i love you."

"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.

"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"

"mhm."

"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"

"can we watch top gun?"

"no."

"but you said it was my choice!"

"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"

"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"

"BEBITA POR DIOS!"

you giggle and he sighs.

"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."

"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.

"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."

you look at him in confusion. "but-"

"promise me." he whispers.

"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."

"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"

"MIGUEL!!"

[miniwheat77]

Army Green. (Ghost x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Age gap (Reader is 20, Simon is 32), unprotected sex, p in v sex, virginity loss, animal getting hurt, Simon in distress, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. (Sorry if I missed any.)

It’s a sunny day, you’ve spent most of the day outside.

Mostly working on your yard, but you didn’t always mind. It did get rough sometimes of course, living alone and doing all of the work constantly. You lived in a pretty small house. It had a smaller yard, gravel driveway. It was fenced in. It was nice.

Sometimes the work piled up, getting busy, trying to pull yourself out of a funk. Especially because doing 100% of the work was new to you. Since you’d just gotten out of a serious relationship. It was a tough situation. You’d moved out with your boyfriend at 18. You were together for the better part of your teenage years, your first real boyfriend, the only serious boyfriend you’d ever had.

The break up was miserable and rough. The fights were bad, the messages were vulgar and laced with venom. It was a really rough breakup that left you damaged.

You went from a two person household, to one. Having to work more to pay the bills, having to pick up the rest of the household chores and somehow still stay sane. It was tough, but you managed. You had a few friends that helped you stay busy, and you were thankful for that.

You were sitting on your couch, it was the weekend and you didn’t want to spend all of it doing yard work. Your friends were supposed to be coming over and you were excited to spend the night with them. Just as you finished cleaning up your house, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing that it was your friends, you yelled for them to come inside. They walked in with all kinds of drinks and snacks in their hands, ready to have a good night.

“Dude, your neighbor is super weird.” One of them mumbles. “He wears a mask with like.. a skull face on it.” She mumbles. “Yeah?” You laugh. “Why does that make him weird?” You question her. “That’s all he ever wears. I’ve never seen him in anything else.”

“So what. Maybe he doesn’t want people seeing his face.” You shrug. “Whatever. I think it’s weird.” She shrugs. “Maybe he’s like.. super hot and doesn’t want people to know.” Your other friend smiles. “Maybe. Walk over there and find out for me.” You nudge her. Earning a laugh from them. “You’ve never met him?” She asks. You shake your head. “No. I’ve actually never even seen him, I didn’t know he wore a skull mask.” You shrug. They laugh. Eventually the subject changes.

Later that night as you’re sitting on the couch, you’re all about to go to bed. “What if your neighbor is super hot?” She asks again. “There’s tons of hot people, be specific.” You toss a piece of popcorn at her. “I mean.. what if he’s like super hot. You should talk to him.” She shrugs. “Um. I’m pretty sure he’s like 30.” The other one laughs. “Oh.. well damn.” She sighs. “What’s wrong with him being 30? Why would that stop me?” You ask. They both look at you like you’ve just called them the worst names known to mankind. “Jesus! You whore!” They laugh. “I’m serious! What’s wrong with that.” You giggle. “Just.. not your own age?”

“Maybe that’s why guys suck so bad. Maybe we need to branch out a bit. Go for the weird old guys that wear skull masks.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Maybe.” You smirk. “Nah, I’m not trying anything with anyone. Maybe not ever after Wesley.” You roll your eyes. “Oh please, Wesley wouldn’t see a good girl if he got hit by one.”

“Clearly.” The other rolls her eyes. “It’s just because I wasn’t ready.” You mumble. Earning glances for them. “Ready for what?”

“Sex.” They perk up. “What? You were together for that long and never had sex?”

“No?”

“Why not?”

“Because.. I’ve never had sex before? And wasn’t ready?” You laugh awkwardly. They’re both staring at you in confusion. “Well shit. We didn’t know that.” They laugh. “Damn. Whole new perspective.” They laugh softly.

“Yeah, my poor ‘old’ neighbor probably heard those nasty fights, no way he’d fuck around with a girl like me.” You laugh. “Never know until you try.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight you two.” You laugh, walking back into your bedroom. You settle into your bed, eyes heavy as you fade into a deep sleep.

You hear whining outside, it startles you awake.

You look at your phone, it’s early. The sun has just barely risen, it’s still mostly dark. Cascades of blue painting the sky. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you hear it again. It sounds like a dog in pain.

You climb out of bed, walking out to your living room. You can still hear it faintly. Your friends are still asleep on the couch and you open your front door quietly, peeking outside. It’s cold, chills creep up your legs and arms immediately, maybe a bad time to sleep in a tank top and shorts. You step outside, covering yourself with your arms as you look around for the sound you’re hearing. You notice the noise is louder now, along with rattling. You spot a dog, it’s got it’s paw stuck in your fence. Fairly close to your bedroom, that’s why you heard it.

“Shit-“ you mumble. You jog lightly to get to her. It’s your neighbors dog, you assume the one with the skull mask. “Hey, stop moving.” You mumble as she tugs to free her paw. You hear a door open and close behind you, noticing it’s your neighbor.

And he doesn’t have on a skull mask.

“Shite, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she’d gotten out.” He says as he jogs to you. You can hear the gravel giving away under his feet. “It’s alright. No worries.” You mumble. You unwrap her paw. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” You mumble. As she whines more. Once you free her paw, she frantically licks at it. “Let me see it darling.” You breathe, reaching your hand out. To your surprise she lies down, rolling onto her back so that you could get a good look at her. Your neighbor crouches down to check the rest of her as you look at her paw. “Just a scratch.” You smile. “Yeah, she’s a bit over dramatic.” The man laughs. “I heard her whining.” You laugh. “Yeah. If I accidentally bump her she’ll yelp like I’ve cut her leg off.” He smiles. His accent is thick and his voice is incredibly deep.

And your friends were absolutely right, he’s hot as hell.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met.” You stand up. He stands up with you, reaching his hand out. “I’m Simon.” You send him a smile. “Y/N.” He smiles. “Ah, and this is my dramatic princess Paisley.” He looks down at her. “Nothing wrong with a little bit of embellishment, gets the attention you need.” You smile down at her. He laughs at this. “Anyways, sorry for waking you, love.” You feel your cheeks warm at his pet name. “No worries, I’m just glad she’s alright.”

“Cmon, back to bed with you.” He nods his head at the dog and she walks with him back to their house. You make your way back to your door, stepping inside. You forget that your friends are there and they stir awake with the sound of your door closing. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“My neighbors dog got stuck in the fence.”

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah she’s fine. But you were right. He’s hot as fuck.” You laugh. Walking passed them, going back into your room.

—

It’s been a while since you’ve had a day off, picking up extra shifts and doing more and more work so that you could afford your house. It was getting rough. You didn’t see much of your neighbor, aside from passing. He did always wear a skull mask which you found weird. Until you were up early and seen him leaving one day.

He was wearing full military attire, Paisley had on a vest and he was telling her to get into the back of his truck, that’s when it clicked.

His accent, why he was always gone, his large build, the mask. It all made sense now.

Your next day off, you’re sitting in a coffee shop with your friends and they’re making fun of you. It’s a gathering, an every once in a while coincidence that all of you had the same day off. “So what’s going on with everyone else? I feel like I’ve been talking about myself this entire time.”

“Not much.” Everyone mumbles.

“Oh, Y/N’s neighbor is smoking hot, I’m waiting for her to announce that she has a controversially older boyfriend.”

The girl next to you is loud when she says it, earning an elbow to the side from you. “Ohhhh. Tell us more?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve talked to him once, his dog got her paw stuck in my fence, there’s nothing weird about that. Although he is very, very attractive.”

“It’s weird, he always wears a skull mask.”

“Oh!” You sit up. “I know why. I saw him leaving the other morning wearing full military gear. That explains the accent and everything.” You laugh.

“Accent?”

“Oh.. I forgot to say that? He’s British.”

Their mouths drop, and you can’t help but blush at your spaced information.

“No way, Y/N. If you don’t have sex with that man right now..” she laughs. “Oh god, I am not ready for that. I just got out of a shitty relationship.” You laugh. “Well.. just out of curiosity.” She sips her from her cup. “Just how much thinking have you done about Wesley since you talked to your neighbor?” She teases. You roll your eyes which makes them all laugh. “See!”

“Christ. You guys are ridiculous. I have to go do yard work.” You roll your eyes.

“Look sexy!” She calls out as you exit the building, your cheeks are on fire.

When you arrive home, you look up at the sky, noticing the brewing storm. Maybe today was a bad day for yard work after all. Just as you make your way inside, the rain starts to come down. You sit down on your couch, deciding to watch a show instead.

You lose track of time. You could hear the rain pouring down outside. Thunder making you jump slightly.

A knock at your door has you whipping around. You stand up, slowly making your way up to your door. You open it slightly, noticing your neighbor. He’s soaking wet. “Uh.. hi. Sorry to bother you so late. I just.. have you seen Paisley?” He asks. “Uh.. no I haven’t. Is something wrong?” You ask, opening the door up wider. “I let her out earlier and she never came back in. I think she ran off.” He sighs. “I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“Let me put some shoes on, I can help.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He sighs. “No, she’s a good girl, I wouldn’t want something bad happening to her.” You smile. Once you’ve slid on shoes and a jacket, you’re stepping out into the rain.

Ghost notices your tattered old skate shoes immediately. If you’ve got a boyfriend, why isn’t he taking care of you? Ghost knows he’s seen a guy around.

Behind your houses was a huge patch of trees, that’s where the both of you decide to look first. You’re calling out for her, walking along. You part ways when you get into the trees. Calling out for her. You don’t see anything and it’s getting darker as you walk along.

Ghost is somewhere further away by now, he’s calling for her, but she isn’t coming. He stops with a sigh. “Christ, where the fuck are you, fucking dog.” He growls.

“Simon!” He hears you yell. “Y/N?”

“I found her!” You call to him. He quickly makes his way over to you, seeing you’ve got a hand on her collar. “Ugh, damn dog.” He breathes. “Home now!” He says sternly, Paisley bolts for his house immediately. “Sorry. You didn’t have to come out here.” He laughs. “I don’t mind the rain.” You laugh, walking towards your houses with him. “Not real good shoes for bad weather.” He laughs. “Oh psh these? They’re fine.” You wave your hand. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t spoil you?” He laughs. “Oh god, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You laugh. “What? Who was that guy than?”

“Uh.. well. He WAS my boyfriend. But.. it’s a long story.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” He laughs awkwardly. “Oh it’s fine.”

“I’ve got a fire going in my house, if you wanted to dry your clothes out. You could talk about it if you want.” He shrugs. “Uhh. Sure.” You shrug. You follow him up to his back door, he opens the door up for you. You step inside and he shows you to his living room, where he had a pretty wood stove going. Lined with bricks. “Give me a moment.” His house was really nice. You wait before sitting down, not wanting to get his couch wet. “Here.” He passes you a towel and a shirt. “It’s an old shirt of mine.” He nods. “Thank you.” You smile. It’s Army Green.

He shows you to his bathroom and you change quickly, making your way back to his living room. You notice that he’s put your shoes on the tile in front of the fire to dry them out. You can’t help but smile.

He brings out tea and sets it down on his coffee table, sitting in the chair across from you. You pull his shirt down over your knees, making sure you’re covering yourself. Your panties had gotten wet and you had to take them off too. “Why did you guys break up if you don’t mind me asking?” He asks. “Uhh.” You laugh. “I found out that he was talking to a couple other girls. Meeting up with them and.. yeah.” You look down. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He breathes. You smile, looking up at him. He’s no longer wearing his mask.

“Honestly? I thought it would hurt more.” You shrug. “We.. I mean we’d been together for a long time but our relationship wasn’t serious. I didn’t really have any feelings towards the end, not after all of the things he said to me.” Ghost tilts his head. He’s curious.

“Uh..” you shift awkwardly. “I.. this is probably too much information but.. we never.. slept together. I just wasn’t into it, and he hated that I wasn’t. He said a lot of gross things to me.” You shrug. He nods his head. “How old are you?” He asks. “I’m 20.”

“How old was he?” He asks. “21.”

He smiles. “There’s your problem darling.” He laughs. “He’s just.. stupid and immature. I was at that age too. You’re too young to be worried about all of that anyways.”

You smile. “How old are you?” You ask. “32.” Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, m’ an old man.” He laughs. “You do not look 32.” You smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He winks.

“You need new shoes.” He nods to them. “Uhhh. Yeah. That has to wait.” You laugh. “Hm?”

“I can barely afford my house, those shoes will just have to do. They’ve done me good.” You smile. You move to stand in front of the fire, crouching to pet Paisley who’s laying in front of it. Ghost stands up too. “How about we check you out, make sure you didn’t get into something.” He breathes, rolling paisley over onto her back. He runs his hands along her fur. Feeling that she’s fine as he stands back up. He towers over you, and now you really feel how close you are to him. “I can help you get new ones.” He nods. “No.. that’s not your job.” You shake your head.

“Course not, you could work for it.” He smiles.

Your eyes widen. “Not- Jesus. Not like that.” He laughs. “Oh good.” You breathe out. “Had me worried for a second.” You laugh. “Got a dirty mind.” he rolls his eyes. “I mean.. if you babysit for me when I’m gone.” He nods. “I usually have her boarded at the base but.. they keep her cooped up a lot there.” He looks down at her. “Simon, I don’t mind watching Paisley. You don’t have to get me anything. She’s a good girl, I don’t mind.” You smile. He nods his head. “Thank you Y/N.” He smiles. “Of course.”

You’re warm from the fire, spinning around to warm your front. He does the same. Looking at the dancing flames through the glass. “Do you have a wife or anything?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. “My job isn’t good for relationships.” You nod your head. “Fair.” He laughs. “Why?” He asks. “I was just curious.” You say nervously. His smile is flirty, and you’re worried.

Not because he intimidates you.

You’re worried by how much you like it.

“You sure?” He looks at you, making you turn your head to look at him. “Mhm.” You smile. He takes a step toward you, making you step back.

Back hitting the wall with a gasp. “Might be overstepping here..” he laughs. “But he was stupid to fumble a girl like you.” He breathes. He’s toying with the shirt you’re wearing. You take in a shaky breath, looking up at him. “Simon.” You start. He tilts your chin to make you look him in the eyes, leaning into you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You part your lips, not saying a word. After a second, you nod your head.

He closes the gap right away, kissing you hard.

Your friends were going to freak when you told them.

You feel his fingertips gliding up your thigh and you gasp into his lips as he glides them over your bare opening. “Ah- Simon wait!” You breathe. Pushing him back slightly. “I.. I-“ you’re stuttering, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry, maybe I misunderstood..” he breathes. “No- no it’s not that. I.. I liked it. I just.. I’ve never done this before.” You breath, looking up at him. Your cheeks are burning, because his fingertips touching you is the first time a man has ever touched you like that. And this is only the second time you’ve ever interacted with him. “It’s alright.. I know you haven’t known me long.” He laughs. “No.. I don’t mean..” you clench your eyes closed. “I’ve never had sex before.” You sigh. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh.. well. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard, I had no idea.” He steps back.

“You didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You swallow hard.

He crosses his arms. “Have you ever been touched.. at all?” He asks. You shake your head. “Have you.. done anything at all? Like.. touched yourself?” You chew on your lip nervously. Shaking your head again. “I’ve tried but.. it’s.. weird.” You bring your hands behind your back. “It’s not weird, not if you’re doing it right.” He looks at you. The room is dark, the lights are dim and the fire illuminates it slightly.

“D-do you think you could show me? W-what it feels like I mean…” You look up at him.

“Yeah, of course. Cmere.” He tilts his head, reaching his hand out for you to take. He walks around his couch, pulling you with him. “Go ahead.” You sit down. “Lay back sweetheart.” He nods. You’re nervous as you lay back. “If you don’t like what I’m doing, if you want me to stop at all, you tell me okay?” He says. “Of course.” You nod.

He pushes the Army Green shirt up over your hips, you’re bare. Wearing nothing underneath.

He glides his hand up your thighs, feeling you shiver as he does. His fingertips gliding over your exposed flesh, rubbing over your opening. When he touches your clit, you flinch away from him. He forgets that you’re untouched.

Sensitive, easily stimulated. He chuckles. “Relax. You’re tense.” He breathes. He moves himself over you, pressing his thigh right up against your opening, hearing a gasp from your lips. He lowers himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours again. You kiss him sloppily, cheeks flushed, your tummy feels warm as he rocks his thigh into you. You whine into his lips, raising your hips to meet him.

He pulls away from you, kissing your chin and down your neck, pushing the shirt up and over your chest. Exposing every part of you to him. The first man to ever see such sensitive parts of you. He attaches his lips to your nipple, hearing you gasp. You lift your hips into him, wanting more. But he takes his time with you. You’ve never felt this way, never been so turned on before. He finishes showing your nipples attention and moves lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. You’re nervous as he moves himself between your legs. He looks up at you, leaving a kiss to your thigh. One kiss to your swollen clit and you were done.

You let your head fall back, he pushes his hands up his couch, entwining his fingers with yours as he spreads your folds with his tongue. It takes just a few minutes and you’re crying his name out in the perfect symphony. Your stomach is moving with the way you’re panting and you can barely hold still. He moves his hands away from yours, holding your hips down. Sucking and lapping at your clit, pushing his tongue into you slightly. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. You can feel something building. “S-Simon. Feels funny.” You whimper, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows. Watching him eat your pussy like it’s the sweetest ice cream he’s ever had.

You feel his fingertips gliding over your entrance, and you gasp when he pushes one inside of you. Curling it right into your spongy spot. You can’t hold yourself together, especially not when he adds another finger, scissoring them. A cry leaves your lips, it’s a desperate moan. Something that tells him that you’re just about to cum. You can’t say anything which is what he wants, he’s cornering you right into pure bliss, leaving you nowhere to go. It feels like your body bursts into flames when he works your pussy to an orgasm. The first of many that he’s going to give you. Your eyes are full of tears and clench shut as he works you through your orgasm. Until you’re sensitive and squirming. He finally pulls away from you, moving himself above you again, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him. You’re breathing hard when you pull away, looking up at him. Like he’s just killed an army in your honor.

“How do you feel?” He asks. Your lips are parted, you want to say something but you can’t. He chuckles at your trance-like state. “It’s alright. I know it’s a lot.” He smiles, pulling the shirt down to cover you. Pulling you up until you’re sitting up to look at him. “I feel good.” You finally say, cheeks burning. “Good, I hope so.”

Your eyes are lost in him and he says something but you don’t even hear it.

He waves in front of your eyes, chuckling when you flinch away. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts. “You alright, space cadet? I wasn’t too much was I?” He laughs. “No.. no.” You giggle, “sorry.” You blush. “First time is always intense. I get it.” He smiles. Leaning into you. “Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

You swallow hard, eyes clenching shut. You’re quiet.

A laugh is what makes you open your eyes. “I’m only kidding. Relax.” He stands up. “Unless you want me to of course.” He winks at you.

“I know you have work tomorrow, I’m keeping you up.” He laughs. “Let’s get these shoes on you and I’ll walk you home.” He smiles. He kneels down onto one knee, reaching out for one of your shoes. It’s dry and warm.

You’re surprised at first.

He’s actually putting shoes on you, like you’re some kind of princess.

He helps you up, throwing one of his jackets over you and holding your clothes. The storm has passed now, it’s only dark. When you reach your front porch, he passes you your clothes. “I can go change and give you your shirt back.” You stutter when you say. He’s making you nervous. “Don’t worry about it. Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.” He smiles. You blush, looking down. “Thank you, for helping me find Paisley.”

“Of course. I don’t mind at all.” You smile. “Um.. t-thank you for um..”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” He laughs. “Sorry..” you blush. “It’s alright. Get some sleep.” He smiles.

You smile. “Goodnight Simon.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” He nods. “Oh.. wait. Can I have your phone number? Since you’re willing to watch Paisley for me.” He playing his eagerness off. “Yeah of course.” You smile, walking toward your couch where you had left your phone. You pick it up and walk back to the door where he was waiting, passing it to him. He types his phone number into your phone and sends himself a text with it. “Awesome. Thank you Y/N. Goodnight now.” He smiles.

“Goodnight Simon.”

—

“You seem to be in a good mood LT.” Soap smiles.

“Something going on at home?” He smirks.

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Not now Soap.” He rolls his eyes.

“Who’s the girl, you’ve been checking your phone every 10 minutes.” He crosses his arms. Ghost sighs. “It’s my neighbor. I asked if she’d watch my dog. Stop being weird.” He shoves passed Soap. “Aw Cmon. I’m your friend.” Soap scoffs. “I tell you everything. I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

Ghost sighs. “Alright fine. Yeah, something happened between us and I don’t know what to think of it. But she’s kind’ve way out of my league.” He mumbles. “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s 20.”

Soaps eyes widen. “Jesus. A tad bit young don’t you think.” Ghost looks at him unimpressed. “She’s been my neighbor for a while, I thought she was older.” He shrugs. Soap laughs. “Nah, women just mature way before men do.” Ghost snorts. “Yeah. Well.. what I did with her last night I can’t really come back from.” He laughs. “Did you sleep with her?” Simon shakes his head. “No.. but. I don’t want to talk about it. Paisley got her paw stuck in her fence a few weeks back and I went out to check on her and she was helping her. Last night, Paisley didn’t come back when I let her out, so I stopped by and asked her if she’d seen her and she said no, but offered to help me look for her.” He shrugs. “So.. if you did stuff with her, why didn’t you have sex with her?” Ghost flinches. “She.. uh.” He laughs nervously. “She’s a Virgin.”

Soap’s eyes are wide. “Christ. You’ve got yourself into quite the situation Ghost.” He laughs. “Yeah. You’ll have to see her.” He mumbles. “Take me with you when you drop Paisley off for a mission sometime.” Soap crosses his arms. Simon laughs. “Alright. If you insist Johnny.”

“I’m good at reading people, I’ll tell you if she’s good for you.”

“She’s not good for me, I haven’t felt like this in forever.” Soap raises his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. “That means she’s good for you. You’re supposed to feel happiness.” He rolls his eyes. Ghost laughs. “It’s bad for a man like me. I’ve lost everyone, makes me vulnerable.” He mumbles. “So don’t lose this one.” Soap pats his shoulder.

Ghost shakes his head. “It’s never been in my control. But.. me being vulnerable, means that I can be very dangerous. So let’s hope this goes alright.”

—

“You WHAT?” She yells from the other end of the phone, you can hear her coughing violently on her coffee. “Uh.. yeah.”

“Did you have sex?” She asks. “What? No. He just.. he. We didn’t have sex.” You blush. “What’s gotten into you?” She squeals, making you laugh. “I don’t know. I guess I just really like him.” You bite your lip. “Damn. Who would’ve guessed. A 32 year old in the military is your type.” She laughs. “I know right. I don’t know. He’s.. ugh.” You sigh. “I’ve talked to him twice ever, and he’s already been so much fucking nicer to me than Wesley. I just.. don’t even know what to say.” You laugh. “That’s how you’re supposed to be treated Y/N.” She laughs. “Maybe he’ll be really good for you. Maybe you’ll get married and have a bunch of kids.” She snorts. You roll your eyes. “Whatever. I have to get back to work.” You mumble. “We’re not done talking about this. You’re telling me every detail later.” She mumbles through the phone, making you laugh. “We’ll see.” You say before hanging up.

You bite your lip.

You can’t stop thinking about the night before. What he said to you.

“Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

Your stomach turns and you feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of it. You needed to get your mind off of this. You stand up, heading outside to find something to do.

You’re sure you could find some yard work of some kind to do.

You look around your house, noticing the patch of grass by your driveway was mixing with gravel. You head back inside, changing into more comfortable clothes to do this task. Not paying any mind to whos eyes may be on you. Simon was meant to be at work anyways. You get a rake, raking the gravel back into it’s dedicated location. You needed to plant more grass seed, maybe line it with some spare bricks to keep the gravel away from it. It’d keep Paisley away from the fence to avoid getting her paw stuck. Simon really needed to fence his yard in to keep her inside. Although she was a pretty large dog, she’d probably just jump over it. You’re carrying bricks when Simon pulls up, Soap is in his passenger seat. “Is that her?” Soap asks. “Oh.. yeah. I guess so. I thought she was supposed to work today.” He mumbles. “Guess I’ll get to meet her sooner than later.” He smiles. You’ve got your ear buds in, not paying any attention. “We’re just checking on Paisley, get your head out of the gutter.” Ghost mumbles. As soon as Simon opens the door, Paisley bolts to your house. “Oh Jesus Christ, seriously!” He mumbles. Paisley attacking you with kisses, jumping on you catches you off guard.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh. Turning your face to avoid her sloppy kisses. Simon and Soap approach, and you’re petting Paisley. “Hi darling, I’m glad to see you’re okay after your great escape.” You smile. When you glance up and see Simon walking toward you, another man behind him. “Thought you were supposed to be at work?” Simon asks.

“Ah, a bunch of offices flooded last night in the storm, mine included. So I’ve got a couple weeks off while they renovate.” You smile. “Ah, paid I hope?” He laughs. “Oh yeah. I would be out looking for another job otherwise.” You laugh. “That’s good though, a nice break.”

Ghost looks at Soap. “We just stopped by to check on Paisley. This is Soap by the way.” He nods. You look confused. “Did you say Soap?” You ask, looking at him. Soap laughs. “My name is Johnny, but you can call me Soap.” He nods, reaching his hand out. You take it, shaking his hand. Ghost feels jealousy boiling through him when he touches you. He doesn’t like that. “Civilians don’t get the nickname, Ghost.” Soap judges him. You tilt your head. “Ghost?” You smile, crossing your arms. “Nice. A weird duo but I like it.” You laugh. “I like the Mohawk too, don’t see that haircut much anymore.” You nod. “Thanks.” He smiles. “Oh no, don’t go giving the bloke a big head.” Simon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna go find Paisley. She’s nicer than you.” Soap rolls his eyes. “Nice meeting you, lass.” He smiles. “Nice meeting you too.” You wave.

Simon lingers behind. “Why’re you not relaxing?” He laughs. You blush, looking down. “Can’t sit down for too long or I’ll think about what you said last night.” You laugh. “Ah. That makes sense.” He laughs. “I can give you something else to think about if you want.” He chuckles. “Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes.

“I think Soap is getting impatient, Ghost.” You call him by his nickname and he freezes up. He laughs. “Don’t call me that. Not unless you’re moaning it.” He turns to walk away from you, hearing you laugh. Mumbling a ‘Jesus’ under your breath.

—

As he works, training new recruits, helping out anywhere he can, preparing for missions. He thinks about you.

The jealousy he felt earlier with Soap, it worries him. He’s getting too close to you. He knows it. The last time he did this, he got hurt. Irreversible damage to him that he still suffers from. He needs to stay away from you, but he fears it’s too late.

You’re so kind. Naive in a good way almost.

You’re so nice, so sweet. Even Paisley likes you.

He can’t focus on work without thinking about you. Zoning out as he loads everything up. The way that you sounded with his face buried between your thighs, he thinks about how you’ll sound when he-

He groans out in frustration, earning a couple glances. He throws down the wrench he’s holding, cursing under his breath.

Soap and Captain Price exchange a worried glance as he storms off.

Soap can’t help but laugh when he’s gone, the door shut and latched behind him. “Something going on with him?” Captain Price asks. “Yeah, a girl.” He snickers. “Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

“No.” He laughs. “She’s his neighbor and they aren’t.. anything just yet. But I guess he had an encounter with her.” Captain Price nods. “Women. They’ll do that to ya.” He laughs, picking up the box of ammo and walking to the back of the Humvee. “Tell me about it.” Johnny smiles, digging through the box of tools.

Captain Price sets down the box of ammo in the back of the vehicle, swiping his hands off together to get the dust off of them. “Suppose I’ll go talk to ‘im.” Captain Price mutters as he makes his way into the office that Simon had gone into. He opens the door, seeing him sitting at the desk. He’s got a water bottle in front of him and it’s already almost gone. “You alright Simon?” Price sits down in the chair across from him. Hearing Simon sigh. “M’fine Price.” He mumbles. “Johnny told me a bit about your troubles.” He smiles. Ghost rolls his eyes at this. “It’s alright, maybe we can talk about it. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” He shrugs. “What, is this a therapy session?” He jokes. Earning a snort from his Captain. “I’m serious, I’m a wise old man with a lot of advice.” He smiles, setting his hands in his lap. The dad energy that Price gives off warms Simon’s heart in a way. “I don’t know. She’s my neighbor and she’s a lot younger than me.” He sighs. “I just think I’m going to end up getting myself into something dumb with her.”

“Well.. what’s she like?”

“I.. I mean she’s nice. She lives on her own. She.. said that she just got out of a relationship.” He sighs. “Oh? Did she say why?”

“He cheated on her because she wasn’t ready to… take the next step with him.” Ghost shrugs. “Hm.. do you know anything about her background? How responsible she is?”

Ghost shakes his head. “Not really. I’ve only talked to her twice but the second time.. we were alone and things escalated.” He mumbles. “So.. you had sex?”

“No.” Ghost laughs. “She’s.. a Virgin.”

Captain Price’s eyes widen, and he shifts uncomfortably. “How old did you say she was?” He asks.

“20.”

Captain Price nods his head. “Hm.. well. What does she do in her spare time? Do you know?”

“She.. mostly just works so that she can pay her bills and hangs out with her friends.” He shrugs. “Do you know where she works?” Simon nods. “A bookkeeper for a construction company. She’s worked there since she was eighteen.” He nods.

“So.. she’s got a stable job.. can take care of herself.. she seems really mature.” Price shrugs. “I know it seems weird that she’s so young, but women mature a lot faster than men.” Captain Price nods. “You’re both consenting adults, who are responsible and can take care of yourselves.. I know you’re afraid of being hurt.” Captain Price sits up. “But you’ll never find your forever if you don’t put yourself out there and be vulnerable for others.” He smiles. Simon nods his head. “I know.”

“You’ll have to bring her around, let me judge her myself.” He smiles. Earning a snort from Simon. “Yeah, Johnny said the same thing.”

Price stands up, patting Simon on the shoulder as he goes to exit. “You’ll never know until you try, Simon. Don’t give up just yet.” He nods.

Simon sighs when the door closes behind him. What the hell was he getting himself into.

Later that day, Simon had come home. He didn’t see you and decided to leave everything be for now. Deciding to watch a show and drink a beer. Give himself time to relax, as bad as he wants to spend this time with you. He sighs, hearing Paisley scratching at the door, whining. She’s pacing back and fourth. “It’s probably just a Racoon. Down girl.” He breathes. But she doesn’t calm down. “Paisley, please. Give it a rest darling. I’ve just let you out.” He groans.

Nothing seems to calm her. He stands up, setting his beer down. He makes his way over to the kitchen to discard his empty beer bottles, setting them by his sink. He glances up through his kitchen window for a second, when something catches his attention.

You’re talking to a guy.

Not just any guy either, your ex-boyfriend. Ghost feels himself stiffen up, eyes narrowing as he looks outside the window. It seems as if you’re having a normal conversation with him. Ghost quickly moves to the back door, cracking it open and holding Paisley back as she tries to force her way outside. “Stop, sit.” He growls.

“Look.. I’m sorry okay? I miss you.” He hears him say it. Ghost can feel himself tensing up. "You need to leave. I won't ask you again." You breathe. "And if I don't?" He sighs. "What are you going to do hm? Nobody will come for you. You're just a stupid girl Y/N." He can hear him. He can hear you laugh. "Go." He hears you growl. "I'll tell the neighbor if you don't go." Simon's smile is too wide upon hearing that. "The neighbor? What, are you friends now?" He hears him scoff. "Come on, let's just talk baby, I can take your mind off things for a while."

"Simon!" You yell, Simon stands up immediately, ripping his door open and stepping outside. He can see that he's got a strong grip on your upper arm. When he sees Simon step down the few concrete stairs, he lets go. "Seriously?" He can hear him scoff. "She doesn't need you, go back inside and mind your own fucking business." He growls. Simon makes his way across his lawn, crossing the gravel of your driveway. "She is my business. She is now." He crosses his arms. "And if you want to leave here in one piece, I suggest you get back in your car and drive as far away as you can." He says it casually. "Yeah? Or else what?" He asks, making Simon raise his shirt up over his hip, not only does he expose his insanely fit body and v-line, but there's a pearl gripped pistol sitting in his waistband. A whistle leaves his lips and Paisley bursts out of his house, bolting to stand next to him at attention, staring your ex-boyfriend down. "Go." Simon nods.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "What, you fucking him?" He looks at you, teeth gritted behind his pursed lips, you glance at Simon before looking back to the ground, swallowing hard. "Some virgin huh?" He shakes his head. "This is fucking stupid, don't even know why I bothered with you." He growls. He walks down the concrete path by your door, walking around and climbing into his car, speeding off. "Go home." Simon mumbles to Paisley. "Hey. You okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yeah.." You shake your head. "I'm fine. Just.. yeah." You breathe. "Cmon, I'll make you some tea." He tilts his head for you to follow him. You nod your head, following after him. He leads you into his back door, closing it behind you. You notice Paisley laying in her bed in the living room. "I didn't think you'd be able to hear me." You breathe. "Was worried for a second." You laugh nervously. "Paisley was stressed out, kept harassing me. I happened to notice.” He mumbles. “You were listening?” You ask. “Just.. making sure nothing happened. Suppose it’s a good thing I was though.” He reaches up into his cupboard, shirt rising until you could see the Pistol grip.

You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

“Simon?” You say, stepping closer to him. “Yeah?” He asks, turning to face you. Once he’s close enough, you lean in, kissing him hard, cupping his cheeks so that he can’t pull away. “W-woah.” He breathes. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Just kiss me.” You pant. He sets everything he has in his hand down, returning his lips to yours and moving you so that he could pin you up against the countertop, feeling you moan into his mouth. He reaches down, grasping the back of your thighs and lifting you up until you’re on the countertop. You rest your hands on the countertop, pushing your hips forward. Like you wanted him.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. You pull away, looking at him, reaching forward and raising his shirt up. Getting a good look at his gun. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” You look up at him, taking a deep breath. “What? Told some scumbag off?” He laughs. “Defended me.” You breathe. “Seriously? Not ever?” He asks. You shake your head. “Please keep kissing me, Simon.” You whine. He leans into you, kissing you again. Stiffening up when he feels your hand on him through his jeans. He groans into his lips when you palm him hard through them. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” He breathes. “Yes.” You whine. You sit up, reaching with both of your hands to unbuckle his belt.

He reaches down, hand gripping onto the cool metal of the pistol, setting it down on the countertop. Leaning in to kiss your neck as you pulled his belt apart and started on his jeans. You can’t help but glance at the gun as it sits there. You’re starting to realize just what kind of man Simon is.

A strong military man. A guarded one at that. He’s nice but gruff, quiet and observing. And something you’ve noticed since meeting him, since Paisley got stuck in your fence.

He’s protective of what’s his.

“Simon.” You pant. “What baby?” He breathes.

“I want you.” You breathe. “But.. you.. you’re..” he looks down between the both of you.

“Please, I want you to take my virginity.” You whine. Pushing your hips out. He takes in a deep breath. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He pushes his pants down his thighs just enough to reveal himself to you, hearing you sigh when you see the size of him. “S’alright. Will only hurt a minute.” He moves closer to you. He tugs your pants down, discarding them to the side somewhere. Seeing all of you once again. He spits in his hand, focusing it on the tip of his cock. “Are you sure? Once I take it, it’s gone.” He breathes. “I trust you. I want you to take it.” You pant. He pushes your legs open, getting a good look at you. “Just relax for me.” Your heart is racing and he can hear it thumping in your chest from where he stands.

“If you let me do this..” he trails off, circling your opening with his fingers again, going to take his time stretching you out before he takes what’s rightfully his. “You’re mine.” He leans into you. Lips ghosting over your throat, right where your jugular vein sits beneath the surface. “Simon.” You breathe out.

“I think I was always yours.” You look him in the eyes, watching him stiffen at your sentence. Eyes darkening as he stares at you. “Fuck.” He growls, gritting his teeth. He presses the tip of his cock up against your entrance, tip pressing between your sopping wet folds. He forces you to look at him, taking his time thrusting every inch into you. He holds your throat, not cutting off your oxygen but just enough to hold you still. When your eyes flick down to watch him sink into you, he growls. “Look at me.” He growls. “Keep looking at me.”

“Simon.. it hurts.”

“I know baby.” He breathes. “S’alright, just for a minute. One minute.” He pants. You’re so tight on him, he can barely contain himself. He finally closes his eyes, sighing out as he bottoms out inside of you, hearing you cry out. He leans into you, holding you steady as he slides out, rocking his hips into you. “It’s alright. I know it hurts.” He takes in a sharp breath, hating that you hurt so bad, but he felt so fucking good. He keeps a slow, steady pace. Letting you adjust to him. He notices a little bit of blood, but it doesn’t bother him any.

“Simon..” you’re breathless when you say it. “Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it, please.” You hiss, pushing your hips into him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight as he rocks his hips into yours faster, a little harder than before. Pushing your legs up as he slides deeper into you, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “Oh my god-“ you breathe.

He keeps up this pace for a few minutes, letting you get used to him. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“How does it feel huh?” He pants, voice unsteady and desperate.

“‘M fucking your pussy.” He hisses, feeling you tighten around him. “Took your virginity.” He breathes. “How’s it feel?” He smiles. “It- it feels so good.” You whine. ”I feel so full Simon.” You hiccup with watery eyes. “Yeah? That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Supposed to feel overwhelmed and good.” He chuckles. He rests his hands on the undersides of your thighs, gripping you and keeping your legs open for him. Smiling when he sees you gripping the countertop like your life depends on it. He lifts his shirt up more, showing off more of his toned stomach.

“Fuck!” You cry, letting your head tilt back. He’s picking up his pace, getting you so close. You can feel swirling in your stomach, feeling something building.

A pant leaves your lips and you move up, trying to adjust yourself. “Simon. Feels weird.” You gasp. He lowers his hand to rub at your sensitive clit.

Just a little bit of that and you’re crying out for him. Clenching hard around him, your pussy milking him for every bit of his spunk.

He’s panting hard, moans unsteady as he approaches his orgasm. He’s going to cum hard.

He slides out of you last second, pumping his cock until he finishes on your stomach, groaning out, his body jerking as he finishes. “Oh fuck..” he whines.

After a moment of coming down from your highs, it finally hits you. You’d really just given this man, who’s way older than you, way more experienced than you, who you aren’t even in a relationship with. Your virginity. You’re staring at him with wide eyes as he cleans your skin of his filth, making sure you’re completely clean, even wiping down between your legs. He wants you to be comfortable. He sighs when he sees your nervous appearance. “It’s alright. I know.” He breathes. “Cmon, let’s go warm up by the fire.” He breathes. Lifting you up and bringing you with him to the couch. He sets you down, throwing a blanket over you.

You’re silent for a while. Not nervous or upset, more content than anything.

Simon is so caring of you, and he barely knows you. Which tells you everything you need to know about him. That he’s going to be the best thing for you. That he’ll take care of you. He finally sits down next to you after starting the fire. Throwing an arm around you so that you could lean into his chest. “I’m sorry if I took advantage of you.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “You didn’t. I’m a grown woman, I know what I want.” You smile. “Well.. good.” He smiles. “I just hope you don’t want it to be a one time thing.” You mumble.

“I was wondering the exact same thing.” He breathes.

“I know you just got out of a relationship and all but.. you’re mine.”

You smile up at him. “Always.”

“Oh yes, one more thing.” He mumbles, standing up and disappearing up his stairs for a minute, returning back down holding a box.

“Here.” He smiles. You take it from him, confused. “Simon.. I told you not to get me these.” You look up at him. “Open them.”

You open the box up, noticing a brand new pair of shoes. You can’t even imagine how much they probably costed. “Simon this is way too much.” You laugh. “You need new ones, I can help out. Let’s see how they fit.” He kneels down again.

“You’re doing too much for me already.”

He scoffs. “What I’m doing is the bare minimum. You’re just used to below average darling.” He laughs, tying the laces. You can’t help but smile at this.

“Thank you Simon.” You breathe.

“Always.”

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Rough Relationship Timeline with Zayne based on his Memories

This is just my observation. Not All Memories are included. May Contain Spoilers for those who just started the game. I maybe wrong in some parts as nothing on this blog is confirmed by Infold PTE LTD.

Pre - Relationship Stage

Sweet Conspiracy

The awkwardness is a bit heavy here. They still do not know how to talk to each other and M/C learning about Zayne having a sweet tooth.

She doesn't know how to return his jacket but does not want to leave it at the hospital's reception. Probably a good choice. Who knows? Some nurse might just stole that jacket away. ;)

M/C knows he is in a medical conference but doesn't know when he'll be back. So they are not communicating well yet. Maybe just a few convo here and there when she's in for check up.

But my favorite part is when M/C indirectly say that she wants to see Zayne outside of the hospital by saying "You'll call me so I can get my candies back when I'm free.. And we'll see each other again"

This memory clearly shows who M/C is really interested to. She wants to see him again and even if it's awkward with him when they just saw each other again, she is clearly interested.

Glittering Lights

Zayne's paying attention to M/C's emotion and monitoring her in Social media. This thought alone clearly shows that Zayne is already particularly keeping an eye on her since they met again in the hospital.

They are also not fully acquitted yet which is why M/C is quite unsure to start conversations with him. But it shows how Zayne is trying to learn little things about her. He is not yet familiar with what she likes hence him asking her americano or latte.

They have a connection. When they are trying to find each other when they got separated during Zayne's sudden phone call, even M/C felt it. It's like they both felt that they are looking for each other and their eyes met.

And the most obvious clue that they are not yet an item, is that awkward goodbye wave. But it's cute because they are expecting more.

Gentle Twilight

This was the first time Zayne ask M/C to go with him as a mutual support agreement in doing things to make them relax. Why I think so? They never expect to see each other in the library and when he thinks M/C is going to refuse hiking with him, he grabs a book about medicine to ensure that she will come with him.

They still not keeping tabs on each other directly.

M/C calling Zayne as "Dr. Zayne" seems professional rather than teasing.

Please remember hiking and pottery lessons.

Neon Nights

She refers to Zayne as a friend and they just keep bumping to each other.

Zayne is clearly jealous that M/C buying a gift for someone. He's actually quite bitter.. hehehehe

Isn't it amazing that even they disagree and not in a relationship at this time, they are perfectly in sync and fight wonderfully together. Which is why they are great together.

Delicacy

Well M/C thinking Zayne needs to correct his classmates when they said she is his girlfriend.

They are already more acquitted in this as they already agreed on meeting up and they are learning new and more things about each other.

M/C is also picking up Zayne's habits and likes as she know he likes the food there.

Zayne is comfortable in introducing her already.

Zayne's also indirectly confess to her here. (I want to strangle Astra if you know what I mean!)

In a Relationship Stage

Tranquil Heart

This may not be a solid proof, but I think they started their relationship right after this memory.

Although it came out as a friendly banter between them, Zayne is clearly upset that he was not taking care of herself more. Not to mention being caught sneaking out at the hospital at the dead of the night.

But this is where the last line of the memory played out for the start of their relationship. Zayne again indirectly confess to her by saying "That he can't ignore you even if he wants to."

This line is so strong in so many levels. 1, it can imply on Foreseer seeing M/C again. He has a choice to either move on from her but he chose to stay and dedicate his life for her.

2 if he made a promise to her as a kid, it is forgivable if he forgot to help her with her sickness. But from then on he just simply existed for her. I still got chills thinking of what have Zayne must have felt when he first hug and kiss M/C.

Tranquil Moment

I think this is their early relationship stage because M/C is more familiar with Zayne's schedule now and she is seeing him to have dinner dates.

They are planning a dates and doing small things like making snow man and watching the snow. This simple things are one of the sweetest things as they mark the beginning of their relationship.

Drunken Intimacy/ Exclusive Tutorial

He is bringing her to events and showing her to classmates and colleagues. He is definitely showing her off and proud of her being a hunter.

He is being territorial. He warns M/C not to visit other doctors and keep close to her when someone wants to talk to her.

Spring Remnants

They are doing charity events together.

Notice how Zayne takes the box from M/C? This is not just him being gentleman because the next thing he say is "Allow me" referring to taking the box from her and the "Go register first" meaning M/C and Zayne are close enough for M/C knowing his details.

Zayne holding her hands.

At the end, Zayne says "Let's enjoy Spring together from now on" indicating they indeed start dating and Zayne wanting for them celebrate spring as a couple moving forward.

Starry Nocturne

I usually refrain from talking about this memory. Not only of it's heavy emotional content, but I can clearly feel the exhaustion and fear from Zayne.

If observe closely, you can see how they understand each other without a word. Zayne just looks at M/C and she already understood. The gesture is so intimate yet so wholesome.

They way they understood each other and the way she comforts him. M/C might have know that the exhaustion and fear comes with the thought of her in his mind.

Its given that they are already together but Zayne is still in a race against time. He might be busy with patients but all this effort as we know is to find a permanent cure for M/C. He works tirelessly for her. To not lose her again. And this brings me to one of the things that may be difficult to swallow for everyone.

While Xavier and Rafayel are still tied to their memory of M/C in their previous lifetime, Zayne is the only one leaving the past behind, embracing the present, and was fighting for a future with M/C. Words are not enough to express how deep and far his love could go and this is exactly why I love Zayne so much.

The Next Level Stage

Ramblings Come True

AGAIN, Although I cannot say this is a solid evidence, but when Zayne says "I was... referring to something you wouldn't regret" It was like he is asking for her if she is ready to take their relationship to the next stage and she agree by saying when she gets better. (M/C have a cold)

Fleeting Sweetness/Cozy Afternoon

M/C was able to enter Zayne's home while he was sleeping. Meaning she already have the keys to his home solidifying the fact that they are indeed in a relationship. I know mostly Japanese are more symbolic at this its like giving someone more

They are sleeping on the same bed on his house or at her place. M/C buying him him a pajama set.

They instinctively and freely touching each other. Be it holding hands or hugging.

Lingering Warmth/End of Depth/Heartstring Symphony/Business Trip/Snowy Serenity/Hidden Motive.

Do I actually need to explain this? hehehehe It's really obvious so I'll leave it there.

Final Thoughts

Zayne and M/C have a steady and strong bond when it comes to relationship. They might have tiptoed around it by not saying a direct "I Love You", but they live and breath for each other.

Isn't cute that they find a way to saying their true feelings by saying "The Moon is Beautiful"?

Thank you Infold for bring Zayne to us. If may just a game for other, but Zayne is my comfort zone. Having him is like having something that will be forever consistent in my life.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Girls Night Out

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut!!!

For the past three years, your weekends have mostly been spent following your fiance's races all over the world, and on his free weekends, you usually rest in front of the TV cuddled up to each other enjoying every moment of his free time you get to spend together.

But this Saturday night was yours and it meant only one thing - girls night out. Your best friend was celebrating her birthday, so you decided to go out to dinner and a few drinks with a close circle of friends. Girls only.

And you were really excited about that. It's not that you didn't like spending time with Lando, quite the opposite actually, lately you haven't really been interested in anything other than being in his arms, but every now and then a little change comes in handy.

As for tonight's outfit, since you just got your period, you opted for black wide-leg suit pants and a black corset top that accentuated and hugged your breasts beautifully. You looked hot, not in a vulgar way, but you were going to turn heads for sure.

"Lan, I'm about to head out" You said fixing your hair and entering the living room where your fiance was lying on the couch in front of the TV.

His gaze moved from the screen to you measuring you from head to toe with raised eyebrows.

"What?" You asked.

"That's a nice neckline you got there" He commented clearly displeased with your choice of outfit for a night out where he wouldn't be there.

"Thank you" You smiled rolling your eyes at him. "I like it too"

"You couldn't choose something else to wear? Like a turtleneck or something?" He asked making you laugh.

"And what's wrong with this? Please, do tell me"

"That cleavage of yours is begging for attention, that's what's wrong with it" He says, his expression serious and his eyes stuck on yours.

"Oh wow. I don't know what you would do if tonight I wore a dress like the one I wore for your birthday dinner" You said remembering the short cherry red dress that Lando tore off of you the second you got home from his birthday dinner celebration.

"You most certainly wouldn't leave the house wearing something like that without me let me tell you that" He says confidently making you roll your eyes at his comment once again although you secretly kinda liked that he was ever so jealous. You liked playing with his head a little from time to time.

"Where is your ring?" He asks about the big oval diamond ring he knelt before you with, even though he knows damn well you never take it off your finger.

"On my finger, of course, every day for a year now, where else would it be?"

"Let me see" You sigh moving closer to stand in front of him and hold your left hand out in front of him. He takes the opportunity to pull you by the hand and make you fall on top of him making you squeal as your chest hit his.

"Lando! Are you crazy?"

"I think you know answer to that question" He smirks grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.

"Yeah, I think I do. You're gonna ruin my makeup" You whine trying to pull away, but he ignores you pulling you in for another more heated kiss forcing his tongue inside your mouth.

"Lando.." You warn him trying to break the kiss. "Are you nervous that I'm going out without you?"

"No, I just don't want others to look at what's mine. Fuck, I don't want them even thinking about looking"

"Well, like you just said, I'm yours and yours only and you've known that for a long time now" You say pressing assuring kiss to his lips.

"Well.." His hand escapes between your thighs gently squeezing one of them. "Maybe I do need a little bit of reminding" His mouth find your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses all over it.

"Even if I wanted to, we can't, because I got my period this morning."

"I know you did. But you could use your pretty little mouth. That would convince me pretty well." His thumb traces over your bottom lip tugging it down.

"Lando..I have to leave soon"

"Baby, you can't leave me like this." He whines determined to get what he wants and you knew you wouldn't leave the house until he got it. "Touch it.. I got so hard just by looking at you." He takes your hand into his placing it over the tent in his pants. "I need you to take care of it" He whispers making you shiver and rub your palm against him.

"You better be quick" You say quietly before you drop off the couch onto the floor between his legs.

"Oh trust me, it'll take seconds" He sighs removing his pants along with his boxers and tossing them to the side. Leaning down he gives you a brief kiss before leaning back against the couch with his hands holding your cheeks.

You start by leaving sloppy slow kisses around his erected length holding your hands on his thighs. Your tongue runs lightly over his balls making him moan in response. You cup them in your hand gently massaging them while your tongue follows the line of the vein on his cock.

"Baby, put it in your mouth, please"

"Impatient, aren't we?" You tease wrapping your hand around him giving him a few strokes up and down. Your thumb crosses over his red swollen tip before attaching your lips to it and sucking on it.

He hisses at the sensation collecting your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"Fuck baby, yes, yes, just like that -ahh" Praising you, you moan around him sending vibrations through his rock hard cock.

"You don't know what I would do to you right now if you weren't on your period"

"What, baby? Tell me." You ask taking your mouth off him and stroking him in your hand spreading the precum all over his tip.

"I'd fuck you until you begged me to stop" He moans and you squeeze your thighs together trying to get any kind of friction to reduce the ache between your legs.

"You're doing it so good. Sucking me off so good, fuck" You pick up the pace of bobbing your head up and down his cock opening your eyes for a second to look at his chest heavily rising and falling, his head thrown back and lips parted.

You loved the sight of him in front of you - he was so helpless, completely at your mercy, the sounds that he was making, moans of your name escaping from his lips were enough for you to know that he was fully under your control.

You loved the way his hand rested on the back of your head guiding it, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

"You love choking on me don't you? Yeah you do. Fuck I love watching the bulge in your throat when I fuck it." His hips bucked up as he started thrusting himself deep until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag around him and reflexively pull back, teary-eyed, gasping for air.

"You're okay, baby, you're okay c'mon, take it" Gently caressing your cheek he tapped his tip against your lips before forcing himself back into your mouth. You continued working him up and down taking all of him in while your hand found his balls again making him a weak mess of a man.

"Fuck, baby I'm close." You felt him starting to tense under your touch as his hand replaced the work of your mouth. He took his cock in one hand and with the other he took your chin between his fingers.

"You gonna cum in my mouth, love?"

"Ahh, yes, fuck. You gonna swallow it?"

"Mhm, all of it" You nodded innocently sending him over the edge, his loud groaning broke through the room, the rhythm of his hand slowed down putting his cock back into your mouth as he reached his climax spilling his cum into your mouth.

He stayed like that in semi lying position trying to regain his strength back. You wiped your mouth with your fingers before he pulled you to him into a hug leaving a long kiss on your temple.

"Convinced?"

"I'd say so"

[sky-is-the-limit]

How Task Force 141 would react in a real argument with their partner (they're in the right):

Captain Price:

The way Price gets mad at you is calm, serious, and controlled. If you are looking for a shout match, you're not gonna get it with him. He doesn’t believe in yelling or making a scene, he's too old for that.

Instead, when things get heated, he quietly tells you that he’s going to step out, giving you both time to cool down and think. Usually, he heads to the pub nearby, has a drink (or two) and lets the anger settle before coming back to talk things out. It’s his way of making sure neither of you says something you’ll regret even if it means leaving you to deal in your own frustration for a while. It doesn't last long though.

❁❁❁❁

"This isn’t helping, love." Price says, tone steady despite the obvious tension. "I’m stepping out for a bit." He grabs his jacket and you can see the disappointment in his eyes. "I’ll be at the pub, just need some time to think. You should do the same." He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a flash of concern and frustration in his eyes. "We’ll talk when I get back, yeah?" The door closes behind him, leaving you in the quiet of the room.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

When Kyle gets mad, the laid-back, chill guy you know disappears. He becomes sarcastic and cynical, his words sharp and his patience terribly thin. He might roll his eyes or make you feel like your emotions are over the top, dismissing them with what he thinks is logic (according to him, of course). It’s not that he doesn’t care or he wants to upset you on purpose but when he feels like you’re not getting his point, his frustration turns into biting remarks that cut deep.

❁❁❁❁

"Oh, that’s rich-" Kyle says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because clearly, I’m the one who’s being unreasonable here, right?" He crosses his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. "If you actually listened to what I’m saying, you’d see how ridiculous this all sounds." His words hit you hard and the sting of them makes you want to shout back, even to break something but he’s already turned away, muttering under his breath before heading into a different room.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

When Johnny is really mad, he goes completely silent. Your cheerful, talkative boyfriend just shuts down. He won’t talk, won’t argue. He just ignores you, burying himself in video games or working out until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open. He thinks it’s better to stay quiet than risk saying something he can’t take back but the silence is worse than any argument and in his ignorance, he makes you feel like you don’t even exist.

❁❁❁❁

"Johnny, can we please talk?" You ask, watching him pick up the game controller. He doesn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the screen. The silence is deafening, each minute that passes only making the knot in your chest tighter. "Johnny…" Still nothing. Hours pass like this and when he finally puts down the controller, he heads straight to bed. "I’m knackered." He mutters, not even looking at you. "We’ll talk tomorrow." But you know that tomorrow might just be the same unless you can find it in you to apologise first and make up before bed.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

When Simon gets mad, he goes back into the defensive man with trust issues you first met. He never raises his voice nor lets the argument last long. Instead, he becomes cold and distant and his usual quietness turns into a wall that you can't break through. He’ll say things that remind you of past mistakes, making you feel guilty whether you're in the right or wrong. His bitterness makes it hard to reach him and it feels like no matter what you say, he won’t budge. Stubborn bastard.

❁❁❁❁

"You think I can just forget what you said?" Simon is monotonic but there’s a harshness underneath his tone that makes you wince. "Words like that… they stick. You can’t just take them back." His eyes are cold, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he looks at you without a hint of his usual softness. "Maybe you should calm down before this gets any worse." He doesn’t move or change his expression, just stares at you blankly, making you feel shut out.

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 1.6k | mature | angst

cw: mentions of parental abuse (verbal)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 21

Prompt: Please

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The second Eddie steps into the kitchen, he knows something is wrong. 

Steve always says he doesn't mind doing the dishes and Eddie has given up on arguing with him about it long ago.

He watches as his boyfriend stands in front of the sink. On any day, he would find Steve whistling to some pop song, swaying his hips to whatever rhythm he has in his head as he soaps up their dishes. 

He's usually happy when he does it. Tells Eddie it always helps. And Eddie can't quite put his finger on what's wrong but he's definitely not happy. 

Eddie walks up to him slowly, and once he's a little closer he can see Steve's shoulders shaking. It's barely there and Eddie is unsure what to do, but when he reaches his hand and touches Steve, he knows that's the wrong choice.

Steve recoils, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a loud noise inside the sink and Eddie pulls back.

He's not sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it one bit. 

"Hey, hey. Steve. Look at me. What's wrong baby? 

Steve turns to him and his face is red and wet from the tears spilling down. Eddie feels his inside twisting, and his mind goes straight to Dustin and the kids. 

Something happened to them, and somehow Steve knows it and-

"P-please," Steve says, so fucking small. "Please, don't be mad."

Eddie frowns, his brain scrambling to catch up. 

"Why would I be mad?" 

At first, it seems like Steve's not going to say anything but then he moves to the side and Eddie sees the sink. 

The sink is a mess. And Steve is usually a neat guy so it takes Eddie one second to adjust. And then, he sees the blood.

It's not a lot of blood, but it's definitely blood. Eddie tries not to freak out because he knows it'll only make it worse

"What happened, sweetheart?" Usually, Steve loves when Eddie uses pet names, but today? Today he almost folds in on himself.

"I broke a-a mug," Steve says and Eddie has to hold himself together, afraid of hurting his feelings with the tiniest reaction.

"That's... ok," Eddie says, hoping that's the right answer. Steve doesn't relax but he also doesn't get worse, so he counts that as a win.

"No, Eddie. I broke a mug. And it's your favorite," Steve says and Eddie nods softly.

"Is it the Garfield one?" Eddie asks and Steve's eyes widen. He nods, doesn't meet his eyes. 

Eddie actually dislikes that mug. It was his father's and he felt obliged to keep it, but he kept hoping it would break. Nothing against Garfield, but he would much rather not have anything to remember his father by. 

"Well," Eddie looks at the sink, "I'll clean it. And you can go sit in the living room and I'll be there in a second to patch you up." 

Steve doesn't move. He just shakes his head and Eddie is a little lost. Maybe his hand is hurting so he tries to grab it but Steve flinches, back hitting the sink and making a pan slide down. 

"Baby, what... what is it?" Eddie asks. He's at a loss here and has no idea what to do. If nothing works, he'll have to call Robin because Steve is clearly about to have a breakdown.

"You're mad," Steve says. And... no. Eddie's not mad. Why would he be mad over a dumb mug? Even if it was his favorite, Eddie wouldn’t be made. Accidents happen and he’s honestly more worried that Steve is hurt than anything else.

"I'm not, Stevie,” he tries to sound sincere, but it’s like Steve has checked out of their conversation. Like he’s lost inside his own head.

"I broke your favorite mug. I made a... a mess. But I'm gonna clean it up." 

Eddie shakes his head. "You'll do no such thing. You're gonna go to the living room and you're gonna let me clean it. And then you’re going to wait for me because I need to take a look at your hand, need to make sure it’s just a superficial cut."

Eddie moves again and Steve freezes. 

"No! I'm gonna clean it," he says and Eddie is starting to get tired. He wants to fix it, he wants to help Steve, but he’s not sure how. 

There’s a little voice inside his head that tells him this is not about this particular mug on this particular day. Eddie likes to think he’s a nice boyfriend. Treats Steve well. Because he does. Never did anything to make Steve think he would be mad over a broken mug and definitely wouldn’t be mad about any mess. 

Everyone knows Steve is the one putting up with Eddie’s messy ass. 

Then, like a lightning bulb, something clicks, and Eddie decides to try something. 

"Steve," he says, voice stern, and Steve looks like he was expecting it. "Go to the living room. Right now. I'll be there in a second." 

Eddie hates the way his voice sounds. He’s not being rude, just a little more firm than he would usually be with Steve. 

Steve likes soft and sweet. But this seems to do the trick. He watches as Steve’s eyes fall to the ground with a small nod and then he walks away, pressing his hands together to keep the blood from dripping everywhere.

He sighs. He feels so out of his depth right now it's not even funny. He wants to call Buckley and ask her what she thinks, but he can’t right now. Steve would definitely hear it and that wouldn’t end up well. 

Eddie gets to cleaning. He collects the broken pieces and feels like the mug is mocking him, telling him how dumb and useless he is. Can’t even help his boyfriend.

He’s not in any rush. Feels like Steve could use the quiet time to calm down. To maybe tell Eddie what’s happening and then Eddie will fix it.

But that’s not what happens.

Steve is sitting on the couch, head low as he clutches his hand. His sweatpants are stained with blood and Eddie knows he'll have to ask Wayne how to clean them. 

"Steve," he says softly but even that makes him jump. He looks up at him and his eyes are glassy and distant. Eddie fucking hates it.

"I'm sorry," he says again and Eddie sighs. He doesn't know what's happening but he has a hunch and he's going to go with it. 

"It's ok. It was an accident," he says and he can see Steve shaking his head. "Stop. I'm talking now." 

Eddie's voice is calm but firm and Steve just nods, sniffling. 

"I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. That's not enough. 

"Words, Steve. Would I lie to you?" 

"N-no," Steve says and Eddie offers him the hint of a smile. 

"Right. So, I'm not mad that you broke the mug, ok?" 

Steve nods. "Ok."

"I am mad, though," Eddie starts and he sees fear in Steve's eyes. His insides twist. He's either going to nail this or ruin his relationship. "That you hurt yourself and didn't call for me. Why didn't you call me for, Stevie?"

He says the last part a little softer. Steve's eyes are on him and this is it. Either he cracks him or fucks this up completely. 

"I... didn't want you to be mad," he says. 

"Because of the mug?" 

"Y-yeah," Steve's voice shakes and Eddie takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand and broke, and I thought you would be mad." 

"Baby," Eddie says. It's hard to keep his stance. He wants to hold Steve and kiss him and promise him things are ok, but he needs Steve to see it first. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. You know that, don't you?" 

Steve doesn't seem sure but he nods. And it’s after a long sigh that he keeps talking, "my... dad.  He always got mad. Always yelled at me and called me stupid." 

Eddie sighs. Bingo. 

"I'm not your dad though, am I?" 

"N-no."

"Who am I?" Eddie asks and Steve looks at him and his face finally softens. 

"You're Eddie. My... boyfriend" 

Eddie smiles. "Yeah, I am. And I don't get mad, do I?"

"Only..." Steve says. He looks like a kid, afraid to get the answer wrong. "Only if I hurt myself and don't call you." 

Eddie feels his chest filling up with pride. He nods, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Steve's face. 

"Yeah. That's right. Because it's ok to ask for help. I'll always help you, ok? I'll always take care of you, Stevie. And I'll never get mad at something like this, ok?" 

Steve's eyes flutter shut. He's calmer now. He nods and nuzzles Eddie's hand. 

"Ok, Eddie. Thank... thank you." 

Eddie caresses his face. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I got you, ok? Can I clean you up?" 

Steve nods. "Please."

God. Eddie's heart is in pieces right now. He's so sad and so angry at the same time. He wants to storm into the Harrington's house and beat the shit out of Richard Harrington. 

He remembers seeing Steve walking around in school. Hidden bruises that no one seemed to notice. But Eddie did. 

He's going to kill that motherfucker.

But not right now. 

Right now he's going to take Steve to the bathroom in their tiny apartment. And he's going to clean him up and patch his cut. And he's going to take him to bed, to cuddle him and whisper in his hair how much he loves him. 

How he's the best thing that has ever happened to him. How Steve makes him so, so happy. How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. 

But tomorrow? Tomorrow he's going to make sure no one hurts Steve ever again. 

[skulla-rxcks]

Backstage noises

Paring: idol!Bang Chan x staff!fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected, bjs, praise

As a staff member you get told to investigate some strange noises coming from the dressing room.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: this is based off one of my first skz fics called ‘unexpected activities’, but with more content and better writing! Enjoy!

“Y/n? Once you’re finished packing up those boxes could you see what those noises are coming from the dressing room? Oh, and on another note please go and find Chan, none of us have seen him in the past 20 minutes.” Felix says, walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.

“Of course!” I say. Going back to putting the equipment that was used for the performance back in boxes, and putting them in the closet for later storage.

After packing all the shit away I remember what Felix asked me; he asked me to investigate some noises and to find Chan. I make way through the backstage hallway and reach the dressing room, Felix was right. There is a strange noise, and it sounds like..a man.. moaning? Almost like someone was pleasuring themselves. But in a dressing room for some reason. Jesus Christ how horny do you have to be? I question the situation in my head before knocking on the door, there’s no answer, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak inside, I was asked to check what it was after all. I sigh and open the door.

“s-shit I was just..” It’s Chan, he covers himself with his shirt in a panic. “you could’ve Atleast knocked..” he murmurs looking away with embarrassment as his ears turn red from being flustered from being caught.

“I did knock, three times actually. there was no answer so I thought someone was in pain and couldn’t speak.” I reply, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.

“Yeah well….it wasn’t exactly..someone who wanted help…” His eyes drift to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it.. it’s not everyday that I walk into someone jerking themselves off.” I look up at him for a split second, his erection that he’s ‘attempting to hide’ is very visible. God I feel like a pervert for looking.

He looks down at me as well when he realized I noticed his bulge. “Uh..yeah, I mean, if you want you can maybe give me a hand..? I’m so stressed lately I can hardly c..cum.” I blush at his words, it’s strangely hot knowing that he knows it’s wrong since I’m a staff member and that’s not what I’m supposed to do but something about the risk gets me going more than I would have expected.

“Alright.” I nod, a slight smile forming on my face. “What if someone comes looking for us though?” The look on my face drops to one of concern. “I guess we’ll have to make this quick then. What are you best at? You know what I mean.” He asks me as I walk towards him. “I don’t know it depends what you want me to do..”

“Could you suck me?” Chan begs with need, his breathing slowly becoming heavier as his mind makes his cock twitch at the thought. “Okay, i doubt I’ll be any good though so don’t expect too much.” I chuckle and get on my knees, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal his throbbing length, pre cum dripping down it.

“Shit..” he groans as I lower my mouth onto his dick, bopping my head up and down as I take him down my throat. “Yeah fuck. That’s it..” Moans and words of praise come out of his mouth, he puts his hand on the back of my head guiding me when he wants me to take him deeper, making me follow the rhythm he needs to feel good.

“I’d get you to ride me but I don’t have any protection. Can I fuck your face, pretty girl?”

I give him a thumbs up saying yes, as I can’t talk clearly due to his cock blocking my ability to talk from how far down he is inside my throat. I make eye contact with him, watching as his head falls back and listening to the noises he makes as he begins to violently buck his hips into my face, his dick going so deep I can hardly breathe, it’s amazing. “Gonna go deeper and harder, just breathe okay? Tap my thigh two times if you need me to stop.”

I hold onto his thighs for support, keeping myself on my knees as the force of his thrusts go up, making it enough for my small figure to almost fall over and loose balance. “Suck it for me. Take it deeper I know you can, wanna see your face as I stuff your pretty throat with my cock until you struggle to breathe.” Chan groans, pushing my head down onto him while he goes harder, absolutely breaking my throat. “Fucking hell.. I’m gonna cum. Drink it all up and I’ll reward you. Come on baby.” He says, breathing fast and slamming himself into me, doing one last thrust before filling my mouth with his seed, I make sure to swallow it all. After I finish swallowing he pulls out of my mouth with a wet sloppy ‘pop’ noise. I gasp for air.

“Was I okay..?” I mumble, hoping that I pleased him well. “You were more than okay. Tell me what you want as a reward, maybe… sex, head, kisses. What do you want? You deserve it.” Chan pulls me onto his lap, caressing my back.

“Dick..” I mutter into his arms. “bend over for me.” He smiles, helping position me over one of the wooden benches that were in the dressing room. Once I’m bent over I feel Chan tug my jeans down along with my panties, I let out a whimper as i feel the cold air of the room make contact with my pussy lips. “P-put it in.. I don’t care if there’s no protection just.. please!” I beg, arching my ass back. I feel him push into me, I gasp. The feeling of him stretching me out is one of the best things I’ve ever fucking felt, way better than any toy or my fingers. “So fucking tight!” He praises, pushing himself fully inside of me before starting to move, the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin. I moan as I feel his balls slap against me with each sloppy thrust, his movements become more needy and rough, his dick breaking my pussy, making it dripping wet as he goes on.

“Fuck Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cry out, hearing him chuckle in amusement as I call him by his other name.

“Want me to cum inside of you?” He asks. “No it’s.. it’s too risky.. pull out..” I add. “I’m going to.. FUCK!” My body begins shaking in pleasure as my cunt begins to tighten around him, i moan loudly as i cum around him. He pulls out after i orgasm, shooting his load all over my ass and back, before flipping me over to see my face, smiling as he sees how he ruined me. “So fucking good just for me.” He says as he grabs my chin, pulling my face towards him before kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth as a result.

“Is everything okay in there? There’s more noises then before.. y/n? Did something happen?” We hear Felix call out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah don’t worry she was just helping me out with a little something..”

[prettyboykatsuki]

on deaths door | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dark content ahead, afab + gender neutral reader, dark comedy / black comedy, attempts of suicide, the use of the word rapist in text, mentions of self-harm scars, penetration, intense but not rough, gojo is doting, no curses au, ceo!gojo 18+

note: this fic is mostly intended to be a dark comedy and have an unserious nature. it is very absurdist and it makes light of both suicide and assault. please proceed carefully if you find this might be triggering to you.

PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.

✮ wc ; 2.6k

✮ a/n ; i actually really really enjoyed writing this and would love to expand on it potentially. KJSDFJSKD.

reader has been through a lot so they are super nonchalant about everything just as a precaution

"Uwah," A voice startles you from your place on the roof. You gasp, amidst tears and sobs from shock. "Are you about to kill yourself?"

You whip your head around to see who could be beside you at this hour. It's a deliberately obscure location, too so it's extra weird. You were hoping to die in peace in a place where it'd be hard to find you, after all.

But there's a strange man interrupting your plans. Very strange. He's speaking Japanese rather clearly but his hair is a shock of white and his eyes are blues as saphhires. Despite the situation, his voice is light and cheerful - almost amused.

You can't tell if he's just a figment of your imagination. He's so unusual it stuns you out of your tears. You can't find your voice to respond for a moment.

"Yes," You reply, unsure of what else to say. He smiles at you.

"Hm." He looks contemplative. "Well... if you don't want it, can I have it?"

You stare on, confused.

He grins. "Your life, I mean. Can I buy it off you?"

Starting to wonder if you've already died, you stretch your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face just to see if any of it is real. The touch makes it gasp. You're definitely still alive. So, that means this strange man is also real and asking to buy your life.

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a cheapskate or anything, the price will be fair." He walks closer to you from where you've been standing all this time. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, picking you up and setting you down further away from the ledge with a harsh yank.

Like a kitten whose mother is dragging it by the nape, you fumble onto the rooftop concrete. As soon as you're moved, you drop down to your knees - unable to find anymore strength.

"Are you... trying to traffick me?" Your voice is coarse in your reply as you stare up. It's a genuine question. You aren't sure what else to call this. The strange, unusual man just laughs in your face.

"Mm, well - not really. Though, if you say yes I'll make good use of you in all ways." The last part makes your skin crawl a little. "You were weeping so pitifully when I came up here... super pathetic. I just thought it'd be a waste if you died since I got to see something interesting."

There's something really wrong with this guy, you think. But this is such a common thing in your life, you aren't sure how shocked you should be.

There's also something equally wrong with you, because you're so fucked up - you're considering it. If he paid you enough to cover all of your debts, you could cut ties with all the bullshit your fathers debt has put you through. You could run away. Not there's anywhere for you, even after that. But at least you'd be unshackled from what makes you most miserable.

You don't want your life, but if this guy wants it so bad then...

"...How much will you pay me?"

His eyes light up when you ask this and it unsettles you further. "As much as you want. And you'd have to live with me at my beck and call."

"Like a pet." You reply easily.

Instead of denying it, he snaps his fingers and grins. "Exactly! Or maybe more like a plush toy that I take every where?"

Either way, you're not any kind of human. You're barely human now though with how much you work, so you aren't sure it makes a difference. You stare at him. And he looks back at you with a smile - all pearly white pristine teeth.

Who cares anymore, anyway? Even if he were to mistreat you, you're not sure you'd even feel it. It's all numb. He can have your life if it means you can escape what you're running from.

He looks rich, so maybe.

"Don't worry," He hums, and he reaches over to pat your head while your face is covered in tears. You don't flinch for some reason. "I don't like breaking things I've bought unnecessarily."

Something is wrong with you. Your self preservation is in total fucking tatters. But still, you want to say so you do. Maybe it's the absurdity, or the fact you truly don't have anything to lose. Nothing could make your misfortune any worse.

You sniffle and shake your head. He's dangerous and weird, but at least you could pay off your debts.

"Okay," You say weakly.

His smile gets impossibly wide.

You're wonder if you'll regret your decision.

__

He's filthy rich.

You should've expected that. You did, kinda. Because only rich people would think to do or ask something so absurd like ask to buy another persons life. Still, he had a driver waiting for him downstairs and his car is definitely a sports care. A McLaren, you think. One of the places you catered for ages ago was full of rich people with flashy cars and you remembered some of them.

He sits with you uncomfortably close in the back seat but doesn't speak to you at all during the ride. Not until you arrive at the destination, which is a giant building where the strange man certainly lives.

The driver (named Ichiji) calls the strange man Gojo-sama, which makes you feel extremely on edge. They whisper about something when you're out of ear shot, and Ichiji gives you a sorrowful look that you can't place.

The name Gojo is familiar to you, but you aren't sure where you've heard it.

After taking a long elevator ride to one of the upper floors, you end up in the strange mans condo. When you get there, he tells you take off your shoes and gives you nice slippers.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He says, still frivolous and speaking to you in what feels like a foreign tongue. "And also yours. I'll set you up in the guest room later, but you'll be keeping my bed warm mostly so keep that in mind."

The size of the place is absurd and so is the decor. What have you gotten yourself into? You must've gone insane. You're too afraid to touch anything.

"Am I like... a sex slave?" You ask curiously.

He frowns at you. "You make me sound like some kind of rapist. I guess now that I own you....it might make me one... but you agreed to come here so don't be like that!!" He huffs, childishly.

His response is somewhat incomprehensible to you. He's stranger by the minute and completely tactless - but for some reason, it's hard to distrust him. He doesn't raise any immediate red flags aside from being unusual.

You almost want to say it wouldn't matter if he was, as long as he pays you but decide not too.

"Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off?" You reply, nonchalant. He stares at you.

"...I know your heads pretty fucked up, but don't you think you're being too blase about all this?"

Your brow furrows. A weird response for a guy who willingly understands this is a less than ethical situation "Would... you prefer I struggle and refuse you? Is that your fetish?"

"No! Well..." You look at him flatly as he thinks on it, almost blushing at the thought. You make a face of disgust "Not in this case, alright! It's just too pitiful and I'm not that type really.... Be more cautious."

"But you were planning to fuck me from the start, right? Or something."

He nods. "Well, yes. As a way to earn your living and for me get my urges out whenever. Finding people to have sex with is a hassle."

You shrug.

"Right. I can cook and clean too. I've done pretty much every job you can think of it,"

He waves a hand at you. "We can discuss it later." He puts a hand in his necktie and pulls on with a small smile. "Right now, I want to test out my new toy so..."

You should feel more disgusted by how he refers to you, but you don't have it in yourself.

"Can I shower first?"

He looks surprised but nods. "Uh-huh. Just wear one of my shirts when you come out. Everything else is in the bathroom. It's upstairs, first door on your left."

You stand to your feet, nodding.

__

It takes you ten minutes to figure out how the shower works.

His shower is nice. The whole place is nice. Nicer than any shithole you've ever lived in. He has a lot of nice bath products, though you aren't sure how you feel about smelling like him since you're borrowing his.

You examine your body a bit in the shower, looking at old scars as you wash and rub yourself clean. Thankfully, you gave yourself a trim downstairs not long ago.

It's embarrassing in retrospect but you've not had much of a choice in the first place. You're sensitive, unsure of the last time you've touched yourself given how much you work. You think of your job and feel guilty for how you're going to miss it. But you recall that you were preparing to die not even two hours ago and feel less bad.

You whimper a little as you finger yourself open under the water - getting wet easier than you thought. You have to lean against the wall, but with enough coaxing you get three fingers in. You're still horny when you shut the water off and step out.

You dry yourself and put on lotion - staring in the mirror. As told you borrow one of his shirts, but it's too big on you and you can see your nipples too clearly which makes you embarrassed.

You reason you're about to go fuck a stranger anyway, and decide to step out right after.

__

You decide against wearing underwear since his shirt fits on you like a dress, but regret when you come back down stairs feeling aware of the breeze on your went cunt.

He's sitting on the couch with his legs spread, dress shirt unbuttoned but still in his clothes. He hears you before he sees you, eyes widening. You suddenly get self-conscious under the weight of his stare.

"Better than I thought," Is his only assessment. Your skin grows hot.

He beckons you over to him and you go, unsure of what to do until he pulls you into his lap. Forcing you to straddle him, he wastes no time in feeling you up. His hands at your waist and chest. His face lights up in pure amusement when he sees you bare underneath.

He stares at your pussy for a long time.

"It's good," He hums, his hands brushing against it. Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal, a pathetic moan leaving your lips that makes him laugh. "Pretty."

You don't have anything to say to that so you keep quiet. Gojo slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt to asses your wetness, surprised surely by how wet it is. Without warning, he plunges a finger in. He looks up at your face, your hand covering your mouth so you don't moan.

"So wet," His voice can't contain his amusement. "What's this?"

"I was," You shiver half-way through as he plunges in another finger and it goes in smoothly. "I p-prepared in the shower and masturbated. I thought you'd just want to stick it in and I didn't want it to hurt.

"Haah," His voice is sharp, suddenly breathy. Something hard and big presses up against your leg. "You're talented in seducing me. I'm not so ungentlemanly, but I'll let it go this time, alright?"

You nod. He uses a sticky hand to unbutton his slacks and push his boxers away. You gasp at the size of his cock. You're not a virgin exactly, but you haven't had sex with anyone this big ever. He chuckles a little, pressing the head of his cock against your stomach and cunt as if measuring it up to you.

More wetness pulses, shame filling you - because you're almost excited to be fucking this strange man you've only met today. Weirdly, you don't feel unsafe around him. Your eyes glass over from lust.

He sticks his fingers in your mouth and you suck automatically, instinctively. His smile is predatory all of a sudden, teeth glimmering.

"So obedient," He says, sharply. "Ah, I have a good eye. It really would've been such a waste."

You're content to throw yourself at him, chasing the pleasure. His fingers taste of salt and skin, making you want something else entirely. It's not long before he pulls away though, wrapping his hand around his shaft and making it shiny. You blink down at where he fists his cock - your spine tingling at the sight.

"Look at you," He mutters, amused. "Do you always get this excited? Is it normal for you to fuck strange men or am I special?"

You shake your head. "It's only been two people."

"Then I am special," He replies. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing against your hole - fluttering. "We have good compatibility."

Before you can say a word, you feel his length push inside of you in one swift motion and gasp. It's so big, so impossibly big - and even with how much you stretched, there's a touch of resistance that's making your entire lower half feel like it's jelly. Almost numb from the sensation. Buzzing from adrenaline and want.

You feel full. In your stomach, in your chest - your whole body feel complete. When you manage to open your eyes, you look at Gojo and find yourself taken aback. His hair is pushed back from his hand and he looks... different. He's handsome now that you realize. His face looks...pleased.

You talk before you can think about it.

"Do I feel good?"

He laughs sweetly, before pressing a kiss to your temple that feels to affectionate for people who barely know each other.

"Uh-huh," He says. His hands are strong, tight on your ass as he bucks up into you - causing you to collapse forward. The pleasure makes you shake, sensitivity through the roof. "Feel so good. Hahaha, how lucky."

You cling onto Gojo's shoulder and bury your face into his neck. He doesn't stop you. A large hand comes around the back of your head - the other one at your hips as he thrusts up into you with alarming force and precision. He feels so good it's a little scary, and you can't keep the noises from slipping out. You moan and whine each time the tip rubs against you inside, soft walls barely able to accommodate the size.

Your body feels hot everywhere he touches. It's been so long and Gojo is so careful but so intense. His expensive dress shirt rubs up against your nipples each time he moves. It's so good, so good - makes you want to cry.

"You're so sensitive." He laughs against your shoulder. "Gripping so tight every time I move. Do you want to cum so bad?"

"Yes," The words are a sob. Just a little more.

"Uh-huh. Tell me where to touch you. How should I make you cum."

You're too shamelessly pent up to feel shy anymore. "Touch my c-clit, please, please."

"Got it, got it - don't cry."

Gojo listens to you well. Thick fingers and an angled hand find your clit with ease as he bounces you on his cock with no regard. Your eyes roll back instantly, immediately - as an orgasm washes over your entire body. Back arching, you cum hard around the base of his cock - but Gojo just keeps fucking you through it. He doesn't stop even when you come down, only moves you both so you're laying on the couch on your back.

He kisses you then, and you meet his mouth with sloppy tears running down your face from the pleasure.

"Let's see what your stamina is like, yeah? See if you can keep up with me."

__

He fucks you unconscious.

Essentially. Though you take with enthusiasm even during your exhaustion because the sex is phenomenal - you have no idea when you stop.

You wake up in a bed, and you wake up completely clean. You don't know whose bed, but there's a large figure besides you. Half-asleep and fully exhausted, you feel shy thinking about the fact he probably bathed and dressed you while you were out.

What a strange man, you think - to do that.

He's talking to someone on the phone. You don't really make out much of the words, though you do hear your name in bits and pieces.

"...A college student.......- young then -...... open a bank account for.... - debt...- pay it all off before it becomes annoying.... look into -."

You shift under your blankets half asleep. A hand comes up on top of your head on the pillow, pushing hair from your face.

"Did I wake you?" His expression is hard to read in the dark with your eyes barely open. "Sorry. Almost done. Go back to sleep."

So you do, because you can't find strength to do much else.

The bed is warm, but your sure the heat you feel is from the strong, gentle head petting your head as you rest.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

hormonal hunch

words: 800

warnings: pregnancy, fluff, established relationship

rafe isn't sure what to do at first. he thought you were sleeping, so he was extra quiet when walking around the room, undressing from the day and changing into pajamas, which were actually just basketball shorts and an old tee.

he was about to climb into bed when he noticed that although your face was pressed into the pillow, your shoulders were shaking slightly, soft noises coming from you.

“baby?” rafe asks softly.

you don't respond, but he hears your sniffles, clearly trying to quiet yourself and calm down.

“oh, baby.” rafe says softly, climbing quickly into bed and wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. “what's wrong?”

“i-i don't know.” you sob louder, not trying to keep it private anymore.

“you don't know? what happened? did someone do something?” rafe can feel his heartbeat getting quicker, waiting to find out what he needs to do to make you happy again, to get that smile that he loves so much back on your face.

“i just-” you turn over and rafes heart breaks, your eyes red and tears falling down your cheeks. “i just started crying and i feel so bad and i don't know.”

“that's okay.” rafe says, pulling you into his chest. “sometimes you just need to cry.”

“you never just need to cry!” you argue back. 

“yes i do, baby.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “i just don't let you see it because i need to be strong for you.”

“oh, that just makes me wanna cry more!” you whine, tears falling harder.

“okay, okay, shh.” rafe begins to rock back and forth, letting you cry and leave tear marks and snot on his shirt until you eventually slow down and stop, breathing returning to normal.

“baby?” rafe whispers, thinking you might be asleep, but you pick your head up, a sheepish look on your face.

“i-im sorry.” you quickly wipe your face. “i just um… i just um couldn't stop crying.”

“it happens, okay?” rafe tugs you back in close, needing to feel you against him, still needing to cradle you in his arms. “as long as nothing happened…”

“no, no.” you shake your head. “just been feeling weird lately. probably hormones or something.”

“yeah… hormones.”

rafe minds reels and as the days go by, he keeps a close eye on you, even more than normal. 

he monitors everything from your mood swings, which have suddenly increased, to everything you eat, including weird concoctions he's never seen you put together before.

“can i… can i talk to you honey?” rafe asks one night.

“mhm.” you nod, sitting down on the bed, figuring you can finish your skincare and the last step in your nighttime routine after whatever rafe has to say.

“i… i really think you might be pregnant.”

your eyes widen, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth as he quickly continues. “with the mood swings, the occasional sickness, i just… i really think it could explain some things.”

“i… i haven't gotten my period.” you suddenly realize, placing a hand on your stomach.

“i know.” rafe grins softly. he's always been able to easily keep track just based on how you behave. 

“so-” he pulls something out of the bedside table drawer and hands it to you. “i thought you should take a pregnancy test. ill be right here with you and then… we can decide.”

“decide what?” you look up in confusion, before quickly realizing. “oh.”

“i-” rafe feels foolish for a moment, nervous and unlike his normal self, but he looks at you, glowing you, and he knows what to do. “i want to keep it. i love our life together. i love you. i want a baby with you.”

“you do?” you question, tears instantly welling up in your eyes. 

“of course. you'd be the best mom. there's no one else id want to do this with other than you. i know we are young and aren't married yet but… i really want this.”

“i do to.” you launch yourself across the bed, hugging rafe tightly.

“i love you.” you whisper to him, burying your head in his neck as a couple tears of pure happiness slip out.

“please.” rafe pulls you away. “please go and take the test, i need to know.”

“oh my god, yeah.” you take the test into the bathroom, peeing on the stick before placing it on the counter to wait.

“five minutes.” rafe is just as nervous waiting as you are, he just displays it differently. you sit down on the bed, staring at nothing, while he paces the room, needing to move, glancing constantly at the bathroom and the clock.

“should be time.” rafe says, frowning when you jolt at his words, so lost in your own head.

“yeah, yeah.” you nod, letting rafe grip your hand tightly, knowing he needs the physical connection as you stand and walk into the bathroom.

“you look.” you urge rafe.

rafe nods, then gulps, then turns the stick over to reveal two blue lines. you can tell everything by his reaction, the way his eyes light up as he turns to you.

“oh my god, we're pregnant!” you whisper-scream, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders as he lifts you, instantly carrying you back to bed.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @wineyoungie @vduxx @inflatabledinosaurs19 @harrystylesfan2686 @silentmajesticfox @am-the-renegade @certainduckanchor @moons-reblog @scarletrosesposts @th3-audac1ty @darlink-xoxo @ayeputita @nanmiik @namjooningera @hermxssaa @annieleonhardtsbitch @nugget-eater123 @integers @thefunbanshee @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress @luckypeacevoid @kiki17483 @ruttteerr @yourbelloved @heyohalie // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[angel-sweets666]

Cast me a spell

barbarian! Bakugo x witch Afab! reader one shot

A barbarian needs a spell to cause the downfall of his enemies, he found just the witch to do it

warnings: smut

chapter two here

a/n bro I just freestyled this 😭😭 btw I made it afab cuz it’s smut and I probs can’t write gay sex rn but everything else is gender neutral trust. Also this is my first time writing smut so please don’t judge 😭

Bakugo is aged up to 20

Bakugo groaned as he walked in forest, dry leaves and twigs snapping under his boot. Bakugo had been sent by his tribe to find a witch, a witch who would rig the war they were in and beat the other tribe. Bakugo didn’t know why he had to go, there were so many barbarian men who would go! Why’d it have to be him! The elders found him the strongest clearly, that’s got to be a good sign. Maybe he’ll inherit the chief title from his father…. Bakugo shook the thoughts away as he looked around for some kind of cabin, some sort of suggestion to show there is a witch out here like the elders say, maybe they’ll see bakugo is strong and worthy if he manages to make the witch come with him back to the tribe. Bakugo whistled while looking around, suddenly a fox came up to his legs and sat by him “what..? What do you want you pest” he tried to kick the fox, but the fox dodged it and used his head to tell bakugo to come with him “I’m not going with a fox forget it.”

bakugo continued walking before the fox yelped out and four more foxes appeared, all different colours. What stood out to him was how one fox seemed to have a light purple almost lavender colour, the sun made it difficult to see however “huh..? No I don’t trust no fo- OUCH!” Bakugo yelped as all 5 foxes bit him and tried to drag him too the other way “fine! Fine! I’ll follow you..” bakugo grumbled, seemingly annoyed. The foxes let go and began to lead bakugo down a pathway, he began to see fruits and vegetables being grown on a sort of farm. Bakugo at first thought that the foxes were leading him to a farmer and this was some sort of advertisement but he was proved wrong when he saw a fairy dust like powder float above the crops and then be placed ontop, making the crops grow almost twice their size and look healthier. Then he noticed the clearly unnatural cloud of rain water the plants, it was so close to the ground that there was no way it was natural. It just hovered over the crops in a neat line. Then the natural sun seemed to do some good. Bakugo noticed that the creatures seemed to look more mythical the further he went, once black birds were now beautiful shades of blue, pink, yellow ect. Cats and bunnies around began to come up in more colourful shades too, bright blue and green eyes watching. Now the flowers had a glow, they were all gold and sparkling. Everything looked unnatural and non normal…mythical, almost fairy tail like… he began to hear the humming of a person he was preparing for a ugly hag.. but no, a beautiful person with a equally as mythical look to them! You! A fox went up the To you and you got on your knees to “hear” what it had to say, then… you looked up at bakugo

“what are you needing…?” You asked him as you raised to your feet “I.. Uhm… I need something, my tribe actually. My tribe needs something” he informed you “needs… needs what?” You began to walk towards bakugo “a bad luck spell.. something like that. We’re at war and…” “you want me to rig it..?make ‘em loose?” You interrupted him “how’d you know…?” Bakugo was shocked “I know this stuff, now.. do you want them to loose..?” You asked softly and he nodded “I think.. I think I have just the thing, come inside” you used your finger to motion him to come inside. You began to mix up a potion, full of that gold flower, the fairy dust like powder, a couple fruits, some other unknown ingredients ect… you put it in a bottle that while it looked small, could fit a whole tribes worth of water. Then you stepped towards a book shelf, looking through the spell books available to you. You made a “ah” sound and then pulled a dusty book, blowing the dust off. “Do you have anything of the uh.. other sides” you asked him “like their hair or some shit?” He asked aggressively “that could work, clothes, arrows they shot, accessories, blood. Anything that come from the other team”

Bakugo thought for a moment, “uh… I have a piece of one of their swords” he pulled a bloodied peice of metal out from one of his pockets, dried blood falling off and onto his fingers “that works!” You grabbed the piece of metal and placed it by an unlit candle, grabbing a match and lighting it. You reached over to light the candle and then sat by the candle and began to whisper something, like a prayer. “What are you doing?” He asked, you ignored him and continued your whispering “answer me” he grumbled, you looked at him then closed your eyes again. Once again continuing your whispering, after a couple of minutes you finished and slowly stood back up “doing a spell, as per you asked.” You grabbed the glass bottle full of the potion “you feed these to your armies, you’ll be strong enough and the war will be over in a day or two” you said quietly to him as you placed the bottle into his hand, and closed his hand for him. “What would it taste like?” He asked “like water, what do you think?” You leaned your weight onto one hip “I don’t know, like shit?” He rolled his eyes “don’t get an attitude with me” you got up into his face “who are you talking to like that?” He grumbled “you obviously” you chuckled then walked off. Grabbing herbs and other stuff, clearly organising stuff “what you just going to stand there?” You asked, wondering if he was going to leave anytime soon, looking over your shoulder at him. “Could you come back with me? To my tribe?” He asked with his typical rough deep voice “why would I do that?” You placed books in a wooden book shelf “we need your help” “I’ve already helped you haven’t I?” “Just do it.” He grumbled at you, grabbing your shoulder “mmmm no” you said

in pure frustration with you bakugo picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “oi! Why’d you do that!” You kicked in an attempt to get away from him “get over it princess” he chuckled as he pushed the door open with his body and then walked you in the forests back to his tribe, holding your body over his shoulder and your legs down with his arms to prevent you from kicking him “out me down put me down!” You screamed as you yanked at his hair, he didn’t notice nor did he care. “Will you be good and not walk off? You’ll follow me?” He asked as his ego got larger and larger “ughhhhhh fine!”you agreed, he leaned down and placed you down onto the ground “you owe me, I rigged a tribal war for you” you said with a obvious attitude “oh yeah? What do I owe you? A animal? Weird ingredients for your freaky potions? A quest? Sex? A man from my tribe once had to sleep with a witch for potions” he listed off his ideas “why would I sleep with you? Your egos probably bigger than your dick.” You crossed your arms in frustration “someone’s got an attitude” bakugo playfully shoved you “don’t even.”

you went back to bakugos tribe, he gave his tribe the potion you gave them, the war just like you said was over in a day. You ended up having to follow bakugo around because you didn’t know anyone else as well, you eventually had gotten used to the change, by the sixth month of living there you were considered one of them. I’ve had atleast 50 people come up to me asking if your my spouse/wife/husband” he said while you two were going for a walk “well lucky I’m not” you chuckled “maybe you should be, I’ll need a wife/spouse/husband when I become chief” you blushed deeply “w-w-what..?”you stuttered “it’s true, they don’t let people who aren’t married be chief. I’m next in line to be chief and I’m not married” he informed you “are you trying to propose to me? You’ve known me a whole of 6 months!” You said in surprise “my parents got married after 3” “is that like a cultural thing?” You asked “yeah… the other tribes get married after a later time, I guess this is what we’ve always done, we done need to love each other, just so I become chief.” He says “so this is a proposal?” Your eyebrows raised “yes I suppose it is.” Bakugo grumbled “I’ll think about it”

you laid in bed that night as you stared at the roof of your hut, thinking about what bakugo said. You slowly rolled out of bed and put some shoes and stumbled out of your wooden hut and looked towards bakugos hut, the light from his windows suggest he was still awake. You slowly walk towards his hut, the sound of grass beneath your feet. Most huts were dark, a way to say the people in them were asleep; not bakugo though. Bakugo stayed up late training. You knocked on bakugos door, you could hear him put something down then walk towards the door; he opened the door and he looked down towards you “oh.. hello” he said in surprise “I Uhm…whatcha doing?” “Working out, your supposed to be asleep” he furrowed his eyebrows “yeah I know but I can’t sleep” you said as you walked into his hut, flopping onto his bed “don’t get too comfy there” he sat down next to you “your beds comfier then mine though….” You whined and got yourself buried into his bed sheets, he sneakily wrapped an arm around you “what are you doing..?” You asked him “nothing..” he said with a smile “your really trying when it comes to this whole getting married thing..” you whispered to him, his hand reached for your hips “maybe I am…. Maybe I’m not” he sighed and rubbed your side. You rolled over to lean on his chest a bit, you used light magic to make fire flies appear, having a sort of light show appear. Bakugo watched it and smiled “have you always been able to do that..?” He asked “since I was around 8 maybe…” you replied, bakugo reached into your shirt, softly rubbing your chest. You whimpered softly, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly “no…” you replied.

you slowly wiggled out of your bottoms, he watched you do it from above. He smiled softly at the sight. “Should we just get straight at it?” He asked softly as he unbuckled his belt, an obvious buldge in his pants. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him “just be a good girl him?” He grumbled and managed to pull his pants down and pulled his member out “tell me if it hurts bub” he says softly “okay.. yeah I can do that” you nodded, you felt him slowly push inside of your body. He let out a slight grunt, you bit down on your bottom lip. He eventually bottomed out which didn’t take long due to the size of his length. “C-can I uh… mmph.. m-move now..?” He whined softly “mhm..” you whines and spread your legs a little bit wider for more access to your body. He slowly pulled out almost all the way only for him to push back in, you yelped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Burying your face into his neck while he thrusted into you, stretching you out. It had been a while since either of you had done something like this so it was obvious why he was so needy. He gripped your waist softly and eventually found a pace that both of you found pleasurable. You let out a moan as he began to go a bit faster with you, the tip of him tapping against your cervix, the knot in your belly began to tighten suggesting the fact you were getting close “mmph..” he whimpered as he buried his face into your neck, you reached up to pet his hair. You moaned and whined. Eventually his thrusted became sloppy and more like he was chasing his own climax, the knot in your tummy threatened to burst and eventually… it did. The warmth of his cum going inside you was a comforting feeling

“you know maybe I will marry you…”

[junkissed]

healing hands

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut, fluff, f2l, comfort sex word count — 2.3k synopsis — wen junhui: your best friend? check. roommate? check. now you can add "personal masseuse" to that list, too. warnings — description of female anatomy, mentioned that reader gets periods (but isn't on it in this fic), super soft dom!jun, fingering, breastplay, hand kink if you squint notes — requested by @jaemlonfz — this has been driving me insane every time i open my inbox so i hope now it drives you insane too :D if you liked this please be sure to reblog or send me an ask, feedback is super appreciated and helps me write more fics like this!

movie nights with jun are your favorite nights.

that is, they usually are.

usually you get to curl up in bed with your best friend for a sleepover, and despite the fact that you’re already roommates and you see him every night anyway, it still feels extra special. the snacks, the dimmed lights, watching movies into the late hours of the night until you fall asleep.

except tonight.

you groan and roll over onto your side with a humph, and jun shifts his arm around you with a frown. "something wrong?"

"think i'm about to start my period soon. my boobs have been so sore all day.” you whine, and he frowns again at your discomfort.

“would it help if you, like, massaged them?”

you glance up at him suspiciously. “what, are you offering or something?”

he shrugs, far too nonchalantly for someone who just offered to play with your boobs. he did just offer that, right? “i mean, if you want me to. or i could go get the heating pad instead.”

“i… alright, fine.” you push yourself back up into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

jun grabs the remote and mutes the tv as you tug your shirt off over your head, awkwardly trying not to make eye contact with him when you notice him staring.

you start to reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, but his hands quickly find yours and help you with it. the loose straps slide down your shoulders, and you catch yourself holding your breath as he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor, leaving you topless in front of him. 

your nipples are already hard, and you force yourself not to cover them instinctively. it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked, but it is the first time he’ll be touching you while you are, and it makes you shy.

he pulls his hands away and folds them in his lap, waiting until you nod before he gently cups your breasts in his palms. 

you have to fight the urge to shiver as he starts to massage your boobs, his fingers moving across your chest with tender yet deliberate motions. you let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders, melting into the pillows. maybe it’s your hormones making you not think clearly, but he actually is giving relief to the ache in your muscles. the fact that your best friend is devastatingly gorgeous isn’t helping your case.

his slender fingers press into your sides, long nails scratching gently against your skin as he works. you’re sure he must be able to feel your racing heartbeat beneath his palm, but you ignore it and try to focus on the tingly feeling in your stomach instead.

he bends his knuckles, dragging the pads of his fingertips carefully across your chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he brushes his thumb against your nipple and it makes you shiver involuntarily, and he has to resist the urge to press his whole face into your chest. at this point he can’t tell which one of you is enjoying this more, because to him this is a dream come true. getting to touch you, hold you, make you feel good.

he has to focus every ounce of his energy into not getting hard, because it's totally normal to give your best friend a very platonic boob massage, right? 

at least, that's what he tells himself until his hand squeezes you a little too hard and you let out the whiniest, most guttural moan he's ever heard in his life and instantly his crotch is stiff as a board.

your eyes widen in shock at the noise that escapes you, but for some strange reason you don’t feel embarrassed by it at all. if anything, you just want him to keep going.

he starts to pull away but you quickly put your hands on top of his, holding him in place against your chest. "don't stop. please? feels so good…"

"do— do you want…?" he stammers, and you cut him off with another soft moan.

you let go of his hands and after a moment he continues, letting him move wherever he wants across your body. you watch his eyes dart back and forth as if can't seem to decide what he wants to do first.

his palms glide over your stomach, creeping lower until his fingertips come to a stop at the waistband of your pajama pants.

"can i?" he asks in a choked whisper, looking up at you with a glazed look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. you whimper out his name in response, lifting your hips to encourage him.

slowly his hand disappears into your pants, and you gasp as you feel his fingers glide over the warm skin of your stomach beneath your panties. he keeps his eyes on you the entire time, studying your reaction as he continues moving down.

he nearly falls off the bed in surprise when he finally finds your entrance, and your hand flies out to grip his wrist between your legs. "oh my god, you're so fucking wet—" he chokes out, adding pressure to his fingertips to draw another moan out of you.

he runs his fingers through your folds before tentatively pushing the tip of his index finger into you, watching as you lean back against the pillows and arch off the bed. "jun—" you gasp, squeezing his wrist tighter.

"stop?" he asks nervously at your reaction, and you nearly give yourself whiplash from how fast you shake your head no.

"don't stop touching me, please," you moan, lifting your hips up to grind against his hand. “fuck—please, jun.”

he positions himself beside you to get a better angle before cupping your pussy with his hand, letting out a groan as he feels your throbbing heat. you keep your hand on his wrist and he lets you guide him where you want him, pressing his finger deeper into you. you can't help the way your walls clench around him, whimpering as he slowly pulls his finger out before pushing it back in.

your grip on his hand loosens and he manages to work another finger into you, your cunt squeezing his knuckles and pulling him in.

“fuck, you're so tight… baby, spread your legs a little for me— there you go.” he coos when you cooperate, wordlessly following his instructions without even a second of hesitation. you try not to linger on the name he calls you but your body betrays you, clenching so hard around his fingers that he gives you a curious look and you have to pretend to be oblivious.

“you like that… baby?” he asks with a toothy grin, and you whine shyly, giving him all the information he needs. he curls his fingers upwards inside you and your legs try to clamp shut around him, but he just pulls them apart again and continues the motion of his fingers.

“just relax, baby. i'll take care of you,” he says softly, leaning over your body and bringing his free hand back up to knead your breast. within minutes he's reduced you to a whimpering, begging mess, and you’ve forgotten all about your soreness with his gentle hands caressing every inch of you. 

your breath catches in your throat and you can’t break your eyes away from the sight of his arm down the front of your pants, disappearing from view at the wrist. thick veins scattered across his forearm bulge with exertion, and you have the overwhelming urge to run your fingers over his arms and trace each and every vein.

he hums out your name, drawing your attention back up to his face. “can i kiss you?”

you can barely manage a nod, pulling him down to meet your lips in a searing kiss. his kisses grow deeper simultaneously as his fingers grow rougher, capturing your moans with his lips until it makes you dizzy.

his cock is aching, and if it were any other time he probably would’ve made some excuse and slinked off to his room to jerk off to the thought of you. but he’s so fixated on your body, lips pressed against yours and long fingers buried in your dripping cunt, his own pleasure is the last thing on his mind. he doesn’t care if he never gets off ever again, not when he has you laid out right here in front of him, making sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

he breaks away from you and you whimper at the loss, chest heaving with shallow breaths as he moves down your body to rest his chin against your stomach.

“would this make them feel better?” he asks as he looks up at you, tilting his head to press his lips against the side of your boob in a gentle kiss.

“already feels so good—” your hands fall down to hold his head, threading your fingers in his head in a futile effort to help. “jun, please, you feel so good.”

he smiles again and carefully wraps his lips around your breast, never breaking eye contact with you as he stares up at you laying on your stomach. his weight feels good on top of you, and his mouth feels even better. he flattens his tongue and runs it over your nipple, groaning against your chest.

finally his mouth leaves your breast, replacing it with his other hand as he adjusts his fingers, positioning his thumb against your clit and beginning to rub small circles. your hips buck upwards from the stimulation, but he pins you down to the bed with his elbow, his other hand still occupied with your breast.

“sit still, sweetheart,” he says with a short laugh, though his voice comes out significantly more breathier than when he last spoke a few minutes ago. “you’re gripping my fingers so tight. just relax for me.”

but his words only make you clench around him harder, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “close, jun— ‘m so close, please…”

he curls his fingers deeper inside you, his thumb pressing more roughly against your clit as he builds you up closer to your release. he can tell you’re right at the edge, can feel your wetness gushing around his fingers, and it only spurs him to keep going. “promise i’m gonna make you feel so good, ‘mkay? you can let go whenever you want, baby.”

it doesn’t take long before you’re crumbling in his arms, mouth falling open in a gasp as your eyes wrench shut and your body freezes. your hand tightens around his wrist but he keeps going, the gentle motions of his fingers carrying you through your orgasm and leaving you panting for breath.

every muscle in your body is tensed as he continues to work you until you fall into a second orgasm before the first has even fully ended. your body is covered in sweat as you writhe against his hand, your pajama pants sticking uncomfortably to your legs.

your cunt continues to pulse around jun’s fingers as they grind to a halt, blinking your eyes open as your vision gradually begins to return to you. you let out a shaky sigh and look up at him as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your pants.

“you feel better now?” he says. he starts to scoot away from you, but you whine and try to grab onto him to tug him back closer, and he pauses.

“wait, jun—”

“mm?”

your grip on his wrist is weak, but he lets you pull him back easily anyway. “can you, just… don’t go. please?”

his smile lights up the entire room, so bright that it outshines the light coming from the muted tv. he leans over to kiss your forehead, his lips as gentle as his voice. “of course. what do you need?” 

“you. a long, hot shower. but mostly you.”

he smiles again. “i can help with that. if you want me to.”

“why would you think wouldn’t i want you to?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, catching the way his eyes briefly glance down at your bare breasts but pretends he doesn’t.

he flops down on the bed beside you with a nervous giggle. “just giving you a chance to change your mind. i don’t know if you… nevermind.”

you pause, wondering what he was going to say. the lines of friendship are long gone by now, blurred by activities that feel too intimate to say out loud, but that small part of you is still worried about losing your best friend.

you run your thumb along the length of his arm, feeling the little divot on the inside of his elbow and tracing the grooves from his veins as you think carefully about your next words.

“do you—” you pause, wondering if it’s the right time or even the right thing to say. but with him, it’s a chance worth taking, so why not? you clear your throat before trying again. “will you sleep over? in here, with me?”

he smiles again, and relief washes over you as he leans over to press a tiny, gentle kiss to your lips. “i wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else tonight.”

you grin into his kiss, squeezing his arm lightly. “good. because i owe you a massage now.”

“oh, really?”

you let go of his arm and reach up to rub your thumb along his cheek. “gotta return the favor somehow.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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Studious II (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

After your last coupling, Prince Aemond has been acting quite strangely toward you. It doesn't make sorting out your own feeling for him any easier...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut (kinda?) , male masturbation, female masturbation (attempted), more Aegon commentary, more Aemond awkwardness

Author's Note: WOW, I was not expecting anyone to like my awkward Aemond brain dump, but boy howdy did y'all... I hope this lives up to the hype!

Read Part I Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here

My Masterlist

Taglist below the cut

Studious II

The day after his marriage, utterly distraught by the look of confusion and dissatisfaction on his wife’s face after the bedding, Prince Aemond Targaryen came to terms with the fact that he desperately needed help. And though it went against every instinct he had to ask for it, he would much rather admit this weakness – this shortcoming – than suffer seeing that disappointment on her sweet face each time he came to her.

He went to Grand Maester Orwyle first. For while he had taken a vow of chastity, his knowledge of anatomy would be more than useful. Besides, he had always been kind and patient with Aemond during their lessons in his youth – he would not judge the Prince for this failing.

For more practical knowledge, he asked Lord Jasper Wylde, his father’s Master of Laws. His long-held position on the Small Council proved he could be trusted. More than that, the man had seeded twenty-seven surviving legitimate children thus far, and another was soon expected. ‘Ironrod’ clearly knew what he was doing.

Lastly, Aemond reluctantly enlisted the help of his older brother. He had his doubts about whether Aegon actually knew anything useful. Still, no one could deny that he had more relevant experience than anyone in King’s Landing who was not a whore.

Aemond listened to their advice diligently, as if it were no different from anything else he had studied. And, like always, he had been a good student.

The glorious sounds his wife had made when he started putting his lessons to use still echoed in his mind. The gentle whine when he had kissed her. The sharp inhale when he had started caressing her. The shiver that ran through her when he found her ‘pearl,’ as Aegon had called it. And her delicious gasp when he found that sweet spot inside her.

But there were other sounds – worse sounds. The alarm in her voice after he had brushed his tongue against her lips. Her confusion as to why he was touching her at all. How her eyes had gone wide with panic when he began to pleasure her, and how she had begged him to stop.

And every time he closed his eyes, he saw her hiding her face in her pillows after he smiled at seeing her find her own pleasure as he thrust into her – as though the very idea of enjoying being with him was something incomprehensible. Like it scared her.

She hadn’t wanted to look at him, kiss him, or be pleased by him. And she hadn’t come.

So, he assembled his advisors the next day, seeking some explanation of what he had done wrong. Or new instructions on how to please her in a way she wouldn’t eschew.

They had quickly decided the solution wasn’t some new technique, but for Aemond to ‘woo’ her.

The prospect at once delighted and terrified him.

At least he had advisors to help him figure out how.

Indeed, Lord Wylde had taken on the demeanour of a man plotting a war. He asked Aemond to list every detail he knew about his new bride and wrote everything he said word-for-word on a piece of parchment, along with his own commentary and musings on strategies.

Aegon’s comments and observations, mostly concerning her breasts, were not written down.

But the elder Prince did not mind, as he was quickly distracted by his own interrogation of Grand Maester Orwyle. He wanted to know precisely when, why, and how the Maester had pleasured Helaena.

Once Orwyle finished giving him the details, it was clear the Prince was far more impressed than offended. When Aegon finally turned back to the matter at hand, the Maester said a silent prayer of thanks that he was not going to lose his head.

After more than an hour of strategising, they had devised several courses of action for Aemond to try.

“She will be so enamoured by you that you won’t even have to touch her to get her to come,” Aegon declared proudly.

Orwyle and Wylde winced at the Prince’s crass words, but could not deny they also felt confident in the plan.

Aemond growled at his brother, eye blazing with rage. “This isn’t just about sex, Aegon. I want... I want her to like me.”

He sighed and slumped in his chair, running a hand over his flushed face. While he would never admit it aloud, he wanted so much more than to just be liked by his wife.

He wanted her to feel the same thing he felt exploding in his chest every time he looked at her. The intensity of the feeling was more frightening than losing his eye had been. And more thrilling than his first flight on Vhagar.

More than anything, he wanted her to love him – as he loved her.

But as his fingers grazed the leather strap of his eyepatch, he knew it was an impossible dream.

She was so beautiful. So gentle and kind. So pure and full of light.

He was monstrous. In the years since losing his eye, he had become as hideous in his soul as he was in the flesh. He had delved so deep into the darkness of his anger, resentment, and hatred that he knew there was no escape.

Until she had come into his life.

From the first moment he saw her step out of her father’s carriage, he knew that if she looked on him affectionately and allowed her holy light to shine upon him just once… perhaps he could be saved from damnation.

“I need her to like me,” he sighed, feeling not like the fearsome Prince and warrior he was, but like a whimpering, desperate child.

A dozen snide, and admittedly quite witty, comments died on Aegon’s lips. Once, he would not have hesitated to say them, to laugh at the hurt in his brother’s eyes.

But that was before Driftmark.

Before he had failed to protect Aemond from their bastard nephews – spurred on by the very teasing Aegon had once led them in. Though he wasn’t there when the eye was actually cut, he knew that if he hadn’t been such a twat before then, his brother would be whole.

He would still be an awkward, pathetic mess with no clue how to fuck a woman properly, but… he wouldn’t think himself so unworthy of his wife.

“Well,” Aegon drawled, slipping back into the mask of the blithe, carefree Prince everyone knew him to be. “I think we can at least manage ‘like.’ Now, get off your brooding ass, woo the girl, and make her come!”

-

You sat comfortably in a secluded corner of the Red Keep’s library, reading the book you had been forced to set down after your husband’s arrival in your chambers the night before.

Libraries were all the same, no matter where they were. The peaceful quiet interrupted only by the turning of heavy pages every so often. The soft shafts of yellow sunlight streaming through the small windows – stained glass, if you were lucky. The smell of old paper and well-worn leather.

It was far too easy to imagine you were back in your father’s library at home. Even better, this little corner you found felt as private as your own rooms.

More private, perhaps. Here, Prince Aemond could not barge in requesting you perform your marital duties.

Or so you thought.

A shadow stopped in front of you, blocking out the mottled sunlight you were using to read. Thinking that perhaps it was later than you’d thought, and one of the Maesters had come to tell you that you’d once again stayed past the library curfew, you looked up with a polite smile.

And met the single violet eye of your husband.

“Good afternoon, wife,” he greeted, dipping his head slightly and giving a decidedly awkward smile.

With his dimples, he was very nearly handsome when he smiled. But it did not quite reach his eye, and his brow was set too hard for you to truly see him as such.

Blinking rapidly as you tried to quickly hide your disappointment that your private reading spot was discovered, you returned the smile as best you could. “Husband.”

Aemond stared at you as though he expected more, as was apparently his habit, but you only stared back.

Why should it fall to you to put more effort into the marriage than he did?

Finally, he cleared his throat slightly. “I was wondering if I may join you in your reading? I noticed last night that you were reading Valyrian history. It is a favourite subject of mine.”

Indeed, you had begun studying the history of House Targaryen more in-depth the moment your betrothal was announced. You wanted to familiarise yourself with the family you were to join.

Though your ideas about becoming a true member of the family faded quickly, you continued your research. As much as the disappointment of your marriage had made you loathe to admit it, it was a fascinating history.

But now it meant Aemond wanted to read with you…

“I am sure you’ve read this particular history before,” you said, shyly showing him the title. It was little more than a beginner’s primer, almost more a storybook than a proper history, but you had to start somewhere. “Would you not rather read something more… novel?”

He laughed slightly, and you realised you had just unintentionally made a play on words. And not even a particularly clever one.

“Seeing my family’s history through your eyes would be quite ‘novel,’ as you so cleverly put it,” he replied, obviously quite determined, if he was willing to compliment you.

Was that… the first compliment he ever gave you?

When he smiled at you like that, it brought you back to the way he smiled when he had done… whatever it was he had done while he was inside you that made your vision burst into stars.

You blushed as heat pooled in your stomach at the memory, and the feelings that came with it. Your feelings about him, which you hadn’t yet allowed yourself to sort through – if you even wanted to.

He had made you feel so small and unwanted in the training yard when he grimaced and ran away from you. But then he had touched you so gently and gazed at you reverently at your slight gasp of pleasure like it was as beautiful a sound as he’d ever heard.

And then he left. Again.

But that was what you wanted – wasn’t it?

You had no idea what you wanted. And right now, figuring it out wasn’t your primary concern.

What he wanted from you was.

You prayed it was honestly just to discuss history.

So, you smiled as genuinely as you could and gestured to the seat across from you. “Then I would be… happy to have you join me.”

His eye lingered slightly on the seat next to you, but he nodded and took the seat you indicated.

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“Should I…” you began, at the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak.

You looked down, clamping your lips shut to let him speak first – as a good wife does.

He let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh before setting his hand on the table. You watched as he flexed his fingers, wondering for a moment if he wanted you to reach out as well – if he wanted to hold your hand.

It was a ridiculous thought. One you silently scolded yourself for as you gripped the book harder, keeping your hands firmly where they were.

Silence fell as he mulled over his words, the left corner of his mouth twitching every so often as though he had almost decided what to say. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply sat there, pondering how uncomfortable you had become in this once-soothing place.

When it was just you, you savoured the silence. When he was here, you abhorred it.

“Do you have any questions?” Aemond asked, finally breaking the silence.

His words confused you. Was he referring to the book or to him? You had so many questions about what he had done last night, though you were more than a little afraid to ask them.

“What kind of questions should I have?” you replied, ashamed by how small your voice came out. Hopefully, he interpreted it as respect for the library.

He quirked his head, his lips again spreading in that not-quite smile, not-quite frown he often made after you had said something to him. Then, on the table, his hand curled into a fist.

“Just…” he gestured to the book. “Questions about what you don’t understand. I would be more than happy to help you.”

If your mind had been clearer, perhaps you would have seen the offer for what it was: a genuine desire to help and, perhaps, a way to get to know you better.

But something about Aemond clouded all your good sense as thoroughly as a stormy sea.

Your brow instantly furrowed in anger. Did he really think you were so stupid you could not understand a simple book meant for children?

“I have no questions,” you said coldly, your voice louder and harder than before.

Aemond blinked, his eye widening as he reached further across the table toward you. “I… I have studied the histories extensively, and I know they are complicated and difficult to understand. If there is anything that you are struggling with, or – ”

“Of course,” you cut him off. All your mother’s advice about how to be a good, dutiful wife was long forgotten as your anger rose higher and higher. “It is quite a difficult book. The words, I’m afraid, are well past my simple understanding. I’ve actually only been looking at the illustrations.”

His face was frozen, his eye wide, and his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked remarkably like a freshly caught fish. You laughed at the thought, slammed the book shut, and stood.

“Although,” you hissed. “Even the pictures have started to become too ‘complicated’ for me. I’m afraid my headache is returning.”

He finally blinked and leaned across the table, truly reaching for your hand now. “No… I didn’t…”

You stepped away, harshly pulling your hand away from his. “If you will excuse me, husband. I must rest before the evening meal, or else I fear I will be too exhausted to participate in any intelligent conversation.”

That look of hurt again came over Aemond’s face, but you were far too angry to care. As you stomped out of the library, you did look back at him once.

If you had, you would have seen him slump over in his chair with his head in his hands before he pounded his clenched fist against the wood table, earning quite the scolding from a nearby Maester.

-

You once again did not attend the evening meal with Aemond and his family.

It had been a hard decision to come to. You had even dressed before finally deciding to remain in your rooms. But in the end, you supposed that the consequences of missing a second night would be easier to endure than an evening sitting next to your husband.

Your husband, who so obviously disliked you and thought you were an idiot.

That was what he had insinuated, wasn’t it? Why else would he have offered you help in understanding a children’s history book?

It was stupid of you to even want to read about Targaryen history, you scolded yourself. It was little more than a repetitive tale of countless generations of dragonriders who all shared the same handful of names. A stupid story about a stupid civilisation.

But as you sat at your desk eating your solitary meal, you couldn’t help but wish you hadn’t left the book in the library.

You contemplated sending one of your maids to fetch it, but you had no doubt Aemond would hear about it. That is, if he hadn’t just taken it himself.

Oh gods, what if he had?

He would find the notes you had made and tucked into the cover – including the family tree you sketched to keep all the names straight. It would only confirm his suspicions about your intellect.

You could picture his smug smile when he found the notes. The way the corners of his mouth would lift just enough to expose his dimples. There would be an arrogant twinkle in that violet eye. Perhaps he would be so amused by his simple-minded wife that he would have to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. Those lovely pink lips that had felt so soft on yours…

Shaking your head violently to banish the foolish, lustful thoughts, you took a long drink of your wine. Hopefully, it would soothe your nerves enough for you to think about anything but Aemond. Or at least enough to calm your breathing and banish the heat that bloomed beneath your thighs.

Once again, you lost your appetite and sent your meal away only half-eaten.

You needed to pray.

That was the only answer. The only way you could rid your mind of these horrible, sinful thoughts.

You had only just grabbed your copy of The Seven-Pointed Star when there was a knock at the door.

Not again.

“Who is it?” you asked, heart pounding with both nervousness and anticipation.

“It is Grand Maester Orwyle, Princess,” came an unfamiliar voice. “The Queen sent word you were unwell.”

A great wave of relief and disappointment washed over you, your book falling to the floor as your hands went slack. “Yes, come in,” you called.

Then, to yourself, you whispered, “I am quite unwell, indeed.”

-

The next afternoon, you sat comfortably on your couch, still in your nightgown and robe. It was improper, yes. But after assessing you in your somewhat panicked state the night before, Orwyle commanded you be relieved of your duties for the next few days.

‘Duties’ was a strong word, as your responsibilities only required you to stand silently next to your husband at court and gossip with the Ladies in the afternoon.

Still, you were glad to be rid of them, even if only for a few days. You had plans to go to Sept and pray and to sort out your feelings for your husband – the frightening, complicated feelings that had you so rattled that the Grand Maester himself thought you to be genuinely ill.

But not today.

Today, you would simply rest, drink your chamomile tea, and read the books your maid had fetched from the library.

None of them were history books. That had been the one requirement you had. Well, that and no romance.

So, as you sipped your tea, you allowed yourself to fall into the world of your book – a world of grand adventure, mythical beasts, and a pirate lord with a dashing smile and eyepatch…

Damn.

You threw the book aside, dangerously near the lit hearth, and crossed your arms. But before you could get too far into your wallowing, there was a knock at your door. Again.

“Who is it?” you called, eyes blazing as though you could see through the wood and smite whoever stood behind the door.

There was silence.

“It is Aemond,” came his soft, melodic voice. “May I please come in?”

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to say ‘no. No, I don’t want to see you.’

“Yes, you may,” your voice said instead. You baulked, unsure how the words came out so wrong.

The moment he stepped through the door, you turned your eyes down. You didn’t want to look at him, for you knew if you did, your logic would abandon you as whatever it was you felt for him overcame you.

But then you caught a flash of bright pink, and your head snapped up.

Aemond was carrying a small bouquet of dog roses, your favourite flower.

The large blooms were the most vibrant pink you had ever seen, perhaps even more so than in the fields where they grew back at home. Even the dot of yellow in their centres seemed as bright as the sun.

They seemed so out of place against the wall of black leather that was Aemond.

Slowly, you looked up from the flowers to face your husband. He had crossed the room to stand before you – awkwardly, as always. His lips were pursed, and his brow set in a deep furrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly and quietly, stiffly holding the flowers out to you. “For what I said yesterday.”

You did not move to take them. Did not blink. Did not breathe.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he continued, arm still extended. With the flowers only inches from your face, you could see how tightly he held the stems – his knuckles were bone white. “I spoke without thinking, and my words did not accurately reflect my intentions. I only meant – ”

His voice faltered as you reached up for the flowers. You did not want him to snap the stems. They would die more quickly if he did.

As your fingers brushed his, he flinched, dropping the flowers unceremoniously onto your lap. You immediately grabbed them, carefully examining each bloom to ensure it was not damaged. Thankfully, they were intact.

You stared and stared at them, memories flooding your mind. Every year, your entire family would journey to the fields where the dog roses bloomed. First, you would picnic together in the grass, the happiest meal of the year. Then, when you were finished, you and your siblings would race to examine each flower, competing to see who could find the loveliest bloom.

They would do so without you this year.

Distantly, you heard Aemond saying your name, drawing your attention back to him. He was frowning, his brow crumpled. “I thought…” he whispered, “I thought you would like them.”

You blinked, confused by his words. But the motion sent the tears welling in your eyes spilling down your cheeks. You were so caught up in your memories you did not notice you were crying.

As you looked back down at the flowers, you missed the subtle movement of Aemond’s hand, reaching out to wipe the tears away. Instead, when you moved away, he clenched his fist so tightly that his nails began to bite into his palm.

“I miss home,” was all you could say before the tears began to fall in earnest.

Aemond stepped back, bumping into the low table before the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I did not mean to upset you.”

Then he turned, stumbling into the table once more, and left.

As the sound of the shutting door echoed in your mind, you did not know whether you were still crying from your homesickness, or because he had left you again.

-

After Aemond left, and you had finally stopped crying, you had one of your maids set the bouquet in a vase. But not before you had carefully inspected each stem to be sure they were intact.

Somehow, they were.

You put the vase on your vanity where the flowers could catch the sunlight before crawling into your bed, intending to take a nap after what was an unintentionally exhausting morning.

But you did not find sleep.

Instead, you stared at the ceiling, thinking over what Aemond said.

He had apologised for making you feel stupid, and then you immediately cried over flowers.

You had never felt more stupid.

And now you felt like you needed to apologise.

So, despite having Orwyle’s official permission to skip all your obligations, you finally rose from your bed as the sun set and asked your maids to dress you for dinner.

Because you made your decision to attend the evening meal at the last minute, the rest of the family had already begun eating when you arrived.

Aemond, who sat facing the door, was the first to see you. His eye immediately went wide, and he stood so quickly that a servant had to catch his chair before it toppled to the ground.

Aegon began laughing hysterically.

Queen Alicent shushed him once before she stood, giving you a mildly concerned but otherwise pleasant smile. “I’m so glad you could join us, my dear,” she said pleasantly as she gestured for you to sit. “We were beginning to worry about you.”

“I have simply been tired,” you assured her as you slowly walked around the table to your place. Curious, they had still set a place for you, despite your missing the last two meals. “Adjusting to life at court has been more difficult than I thought.”

As you came to stand before your chair, Aemond held a hand out to help you sit. Then, just as you had only hours before, you looked from his hand to his face. His brow was still set in a furrow, but he was almost smiling.

You took his hand, squeezing it tighter than you usually would. The only forgiveness you could give while being watched by his mother, grandsire, and siblings.

He seemed to understand, giving you a real smile – a breathtakingly beautiful smile – as you sat. You wanted to return it, but all your lips would do was tremble pathetically. You were sure that if you opened your mouth, you would burst into tears. So, you fixed your eyes on your plate and listened to the idle conversation around you.

Aemond himself began serving your plate, somehow knowing exactly what you liked and what you didn’t. When he finished, you looked over to him briefly and nodded your thanks, earning another of those beautiful smiles.

Your stomach flipped, and you told yourself it was only because you were hungry.

Neither you nor Aemond said anything to each other for the rest of the meal. Instead, you were more than content to simply listen. Or try to.

You were all too aware of every movement Aemond made. The way his long, elegant fingers gripped his goblet. The severe line of his jaw moving when he responded to his grandsire’s questions. The way he sat, legs bowed slightly outward to allow him comfortably at the table.

If you weren’t careful, your leg would brush against his.

You made sure to be very careful.

What you were not aware of was Prince Aegon’s eyes on you, noticing each time your eyes slid to his brother. Every so often, he would dip his chin and raise his brows when he made eye contact with Aemond, nodding toward you in encouragement.

Aemond noticed, but did nothing to act on it.

Not until the meal was ended and everyone rose from the table. He stepped to your side and extended his arm, accidentally bumping you, rather firmly, with his sharp elbow and causing you to jump away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond said hastily. “I just… I hoped I could escort you back to your chambers?”

You looked at him for a moment, at the near-pleading in his eye, and nodded, slipping your arm into his for the first time since your wedding ceremony, and began to lead you through the castle halls.

As your private chambers were separate from the rest of the family’s, you were alone as you walked. You were not sure whether you were grateful for it or not.

The silence was palpable and nearly painful.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Aemond stumbled at the unexpected sound. “For the flowers, I mean. They are a favourite from home.”

You looked up at him, and he gave another half-smile, but said nothing.

Silence fell once more.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” Aemond said, nearly shouting the sudden words. The corner of his lips twitched when you looked at him in shock. “This dress suits you much better than the one you wore yesterday, and is far more flattering than your nightclothes.”

Any warmth you felt at the initial compliment was thoroughly snuffed out at the remainder of the comment. Though you once more felt like crying, you schooled your features into indifference as you turned away from him, only looking straight ahead.

“I did not know you disliked them so,” you muttered, removing your arm from his and clasping your hands in front of you. You fixed your gaze straight ahead and did not waver. “I will not wear them again.”

Aemond stilled, but you did not break your stride. You only knew he followed after a moment when you heard the soft sounds of his boots against stone.

You walked in silence until you reached your door, then turned back to him. “Is there anything you require of me tonight, husband?”

He wore that expression of hurt that caused your chest to tighten, but you did not allow yourself to react. Finally, after a long moment, he licked his lips and shook his head once.

That was all the dismissal you needed. You opened your door just enough to slip through and shut it firmly behind you.

You did not speak to your maids as they prepared you for bed until they presented you with one of your favourite cotton nightgowns and your robe.

“Not those,” you whispered, though you longed for their comfort and warmth. “Something else. Anything else.”

They dressed you in one of the thin silk nightdresses, one which matched the colour of the dress you just removed. Though it was soft and luxurious against your skin, as you settled beneath your covers, you felt cold.

In the hall, Aemond took a stumbling step forward to rest his forehead against your door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. He stayed like that for many long moments, silently cursing himself, before he stepped away and retreated to his own chambers.

-

The following day, you woke still feeling tired. It had been hard to find sleep when you felt so cold. When curling into yourself still did not warm you, you rose from the bed and stalked to your dressing room, determined to find your more comfortable nightclothes.

But the moment you ran your hand over the well-worn brocade of your robe, Aemond’s words again echoed in your mind.

He was right. It was not flattering. Your father had it made when you were younger, and he had obviously expected you to grow as large and tall as your brothers. But you had not, and the robe still overwhelmed your frame.

Your maids had offered to take it in to make it fit better, but you had denied them. You liked the way you could disappear into it, how it could double as a blanket, the way it streamed behind you as you ran through the halls of your father’s keep.

It was familiar – it was home.

Now Aemond had ruined it, as he had your dreams of a happy marriage.

Reluctantly, you rang the bell for your maids, apologising for the late hour, and asked for another blanket.

But worse than the aching in your bones and the heaviness of your head was the sinking feeling in your stomach when your maids told you that Aemond had sent word asking you to come watch him fight in the training yard.

No reason was given. Why would there be? A man did not need a reason to summon his wife.

You wanted to ignore the request. With Orwyle’s orders that you should rest, you easily could. Yet you could not deny the sinful part of you that remembered how you felt watching him train only days ago.

With his sword in hand, Aemond was a different man. He was graceful and confident – the Prince you imagined when you first heard of your betrothal. The sight of him had lit the smouldering fire of desire within you, shameful as it was.

Despite your prayers, the memory of his seeming indifference, and his more recent insults, you could not deny you wanted to see that man again.

So, you once again donned your warmest cloak – only after confirming with your maids countless times that it was flattering – and headed to the training yard.

Aemond was not in the ring when you arrived but sulking by a table full of weapons. His arms were crossed tightly in front of him, and though he faced the ring, he was not truly focused on the fight. He looked as distant as he did on your wedding night, just before he asked you to get in the bed.

That is until one of the Kingsguard – the Dornish one – pointed to you on the ramparts, and he looked to you.

You braced for another grimace, but it did not come. Were it not for the slight, almost hopeful raise of his brows, you would think him completely indifferent.

He turned back to the weapons table, quickly selecting a longsword and walking to the ring, barking an order that immediately disbanded the current melee. You watched him jump up and down, stretching and shaking his limbs to prepare for his own fight.

The Kingsguard stepped into the ring with him, wielding a large morningstar. The sight of the fearsome weapon sent a shiver of fear through your veins, but you quickly brushed it aside in favour of a small surge of pride.

You had seen Aemond fight. Surely success would come easily.

Though perhaps not.

At the first strike of the Morningstar, Aemond fell to one knee as his shield shattered. You startled, prompting the old Lord to your side to set a hand on your back and whisper his assurances.

“The Prince is a fine warrior,” he said, “a single strike will not fell him.”

But it was not only the one strike.

Over and over, the Kingsguard’s weapon struck, Aemond only barely avoiding it each time.

Once, after Aemond was forced to concede several steps back, the Kingsguard let his offensive stance fall and whispered something. Your husband only growled back at him, loud enough for you to hear from where you watched. Though even in the ferocity of his new advance, he fumbled through his strikes.

This was not the man you watched in the training yard before. However, there were hints of him, sometimes – a graceful swing of the sword, the agile avoidance of an incoming strike, or a strong blocking with his shield (which was replaced several times).

Though those glimpses were few, they were enough to light that fire once more as each one sent that tingling down your spine.

You even considered going down into the yard when the fight was over and asking him to take you back to your chambers.

The idea when quickly squashed when the fight ended badly.

A powerful blow from the morningstar sent Aemond backwards into the dirt. He only barely hung onto his sword. The Kingsguard dropped his weapon and approached the Prince with his hand outstretched.

Aemond did not accept it. Instead, he swatted the knight aside as he stood, driving his sword point-first into the dirt. Then, after whispering something you could not hear but could tell by the fury in his eyes was harsh and likely cruel, he turned and left the training yard.

Without a single glance your way.

-

Aemond did not attend the family meal that evening. He could not bear to face his wife after such a mortifying display.

Seeing her disappointment would break him, he was sure. Though worse was the possibility that she may laugh at him – mock him, as he had unintentionally mocked her.

Gods, he had not fought so poorly since he was a mere boy and had not yet been allowed to wield real steel. Perhaps the next day, Cole would give him his wooden practice sword back. He would deserve it, for both his abysmal performance and his arrogance.

When Lord Wylde suggested he invite her to ‘witness his martial prowess,’ he had let himself fall victim to Aegon’s flattery and his own vanity. And the gods had seen fit to punish him for it.

He would beg their forgiveness later. After he committed another sin. One he had been indulging in far too often of late.

Though his body – already sore from the fight – protested every movement, Aemond removed all his clothes. All the while, he tried not to think about the wrongness of what he was about to do or how much he had embarrassed himself, but about his wife.

How beautiful she had looked on the ramparts. How her hair floated so gracefully in the wind. How the colour of her cloak brought out a delightful sparkle in her eyes. How she had jumped each time Cole landed a blow.

That she cared whether he lived or died should not make his heart flutter as it did, but he would take whatever she would give him, even if it was the barest of affection.

When he was naked and laid himself across his bed, his cock was suitably hard and leaking. Still, he reached for the small phial of oil Aegon gave him when he suggested he ‘practice building his stamina.’

“It is a sin,” Aemond had hissed, horrified by the mere suggestion.

Aegon only shrugged. “So is killing. But we do so in war without fearing the wrath of the gods. Why? Because it is in pursuit of a noble goal. I would say making your wife c… happy and satisfied is a noble goal, wouldn’t you?”

It was an impressive logic – for Aegon. Still, Aemond went to the Sept each morning to ask the gods for forgiveness.

And each night, like now, he practised.

After depositing a droplet of oil into his palm, he took hold of his cock and began to slowly stroke himself.

It was nothing like being in his wife. No matter what he did, he could not replicate that wonderful feeling. So he quickly stopped trying.

Instead, he pumped himself hard and fast, trying to get to the edge of his peak as quickly as he could – and then stopped. He curled his hand into a fist at his side as he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting a few agonising moments before resuming at a slower pace.

The only thing that made that waiting bearable was assuring himself what it would lead to – or what he hoped it would lead to.

He pictured his wife as she had been when he was touching her. How she had come so close to giving herself over to pleasure.

He hoped she would not ask him to stop the next time. Instead, she would let him touch her until she came. She would let him taste her, something he had never considered before Aegon told him of it, but which he now craved like a man lost in the desert craved water. She would beg him to fuck her, to once again brush his cock against that spot inside her, over and over until they both came apart.

And he would gladly obey. He would do anything she asked – if she only would.

Aemond brought himself almost to coming over and over until his stones ached from being denied so long. Only then did he allow himself release, spilling across his stomach with his wife’s name on his lips.

-

The dinner felt unbearably strange without Aemond beside you. No excuses for his absence were given; it was apparently not a subject anyone else was curious about.

So, you ate your food, spoke when you were spoken to, and excused yourself the moment you were done eating.

Though he had never much talked to you at meals, his presence was still somehow missed. You missed the touch of his hand as he helped you into your seat, the low timbre of his voice when he answered a question from his mother or grandsire, and the warmth of his gaze whenever you caught him looking at you.

You missed all those little joys, which you only then realised were indeed joys, so much that you would gladly endure his insults and criticism if it only meant he was there. Besides, you liked how he had gawked in the library when you mocked him in return. That could become a fun little game…

As you left the dining hall, thinking about how he had smiled at you the night before, you found yourself turning not for your own chambers, but for his.

Perhaps he was hurt from his fall, and that was why he was not there. Surely, it was only concern for his health that had you turning this way, nothing more.

But then you took another step forward, and you knew.

You desired him.

The shock and shame of it had you immediately retreating to your own rooms.

You quickly had your maids prepare you for bed, dressing in another silk slip of a nightdress before sending them away and curling beneath your blankets.

Soon, your own heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. The godsdamned crickets had gone silent again, wishing for you to hear every shameful thought you had clearly.

You thought of the strength he had shown in holding off the Kingsguard’s attacks. The strength you had seen in the tautness of his muscles as he hovered over you. As he used those hands that so skillfully wielded a sword to bring you pleasure.

Your legs squeezed together of their own accord at the thought, and you became all too aware of a wetness between your thighs – the wetness he had once coaxed out of you with his gentle touch.

Spreading your legs and trying not to think about the sin of what you were doing, you slowly raised the hem of your nightdress and slid your hand over your folds.

Where Aemond’s fingers were warm, yours were cold. You rubbed your hand over your thigh momentarily, remembering him doing the same thing, before touching yourself again.

This part of you was unfamiliar, and you fumbled around more than Aemond had that first night.

You found your entrance first but shied away from slipping a finger inside. Somehow, that felt too wrong, too much of a sin.

But that was not the only place Aemond had touched that brought you pleasure.

Following the same line his thumb had taken, you searched from that little spot that had sent lightning through you.

It took some time, but you found it.

Though, no matter how fast you moved your finger or how hard you pressed, your own touch did not bring you nearly as much pleasure as Aemond’s had. Finally, after many long minutes, your attempts were causing far more frustration than anything else, and you ripped your hand away from your sex.

You nearly cried when you saw your fingers glistening – with bright red blood.

Your moon’s blood was here.

You were not pregnant.

-

The next morning, you immediately sent for raspberry tea to soothe the aching that had already taken hold in your abdomen and did not get out of bed until it had arrived and you had drunk two cups full.

Then, you wished you had not gotten out of bed at all. There was another note from your husband – he wanted to meet you for a walk in the gardens.

At least it meant he was not hurt. But to face him after what you had done, or tried to do…

A good wife did not do what you did. A good wife would have gone to his chambers and made sure he was well, would have let him take comfort in you.

Gods, you should have done so. You wished so badly that you had done so.

You could not change what you did, but you could be a good wife from this point on – you would be.

So, despite your pains, you dressed and headed for the gardens, where his note said he would be waiting for you all morning.

You spent the entire walk through the castle praying. To the Father for forgiveness for your sin. To the Mother for forgiveness for failing your husband and to beg that his seed quickened the next time. To the Crone for the wisdom to be a good wife – again, as the same prayer had obviously not worked the first time. To the Warrior, for the courage you would need to face Aemond. To the Smith, to repair what had been broken between you. And to the Stranger for whatever you had forgotten to include in your prayers to the others.

Truly, you needed the blessing of each of the Seven.

It was only by clutching the Seven-Pointed Star pendant until your fingers hurt that you did not collapse at the sight of Aemond.

He looked ethereally beautiful in the morning light. The soft sunlight streaming through the few leaves that still remained on the trees set his hair aglow, like he was touched by the gods themselves. Indeed, they must have been tempting your devotion to your promise. Why else would they make him appear so tempting?

You swallowed thickly, grateful you had approached him from the left, so he would not see you gawking. Then, once you had regained your composure, thanks in no small part to a new wave of pain in your belly overwhelming any desire, you stepped forward and curtsied.

“Husband,” you greeted with as much sweetness in your voice as you could muster, “thank you for the invitation to join you today.”

Aemond stood from the bench and bowed back to you, even though protocol did not require it. “Thank you for coming,” he said with a shy smile. “I was worried that… you might not.”

“It would be improper for a wife to deny her husband’s wishes,” you replied.

Dutiful. Polite. A good wife.

But Aemond’s smile fell. “I hope you do not feel you had to come here just because I asked,” he murmured, not meeting your gaze. “I hope that you wanted to come.”

You found yourself almost smiling at him, at the sentiment he offered. Then, nodding, you stepped forward and awkwardly held your hand out for a moment before returning it to your side. “I have not yet had the chance to see the gardens. Will you show me?”

He looked as though you had just offered him a kingdom and held out his arm for you to take.

Despite the heat radiating off him, you shivered as you looped your arm through his, and he began to lead you down the flagstone path.

You walked in silence for a while, but it was not as heavy or uncomfortable as before. There was only the faintest hint of tension between you, the rest replaced by a kind of contentment – unfamiliar but pleasant.

Aemond only spoke to name some of the plants you saw. How he knew exactly which ones you could not identify yourself, you did not know. He just… knew.

You stopped in front of the gnarled trunk of a wisteria vine. It was not in bloom, and most of its leaves had fallen, but it was still beautiful in its bareness.

“It is wisteria,” Aemond said after a moment, pointing with a finger to trace its path from its roots to the very ends of the vine some twenty feet away on a trellis. “At the end of spring, it will produce hanging blooms that are a lovely shade of purple.”

You looked up at him, at his one eye and its lovely shade of purple – the colour of wisteria, you realised.

Before you knew it, you were smiling so wide it hurt your cheeks. “I know,” you replied, your voice almost a laugh. “It is one of my favourites.”

Feeling yourself begin to blush furiously, you turned back toward the plant. “There was one even larger than this right outside my window at my father’s keep.”

Aemond did not – could not – respond. You had just smiled at him, and it was more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

-

You walked through the gardens on Aemond’s arm until you had seen every plant, every flower, every leaf. It was the happiest you had been since arriving in King’s Landing, and indeed in many years before.

But it could not last forever. While you were merely a wife, Aemond was a Prince. He had duties far more important than walking with his wife. So, when he mentioned the hour was growing late, you did not ask him to stay.

You merely removed your arm from his, bowed your head, and whispered your farewell. As a good wife does.

Yet Aemond remained in front of you, the look in his eye so intense you had to turn away.

“May I come to your chambers tonight?” he asked, his voice small but firm.

Your chest tightened.

You wanted to say yes – to kiss him and feel his touch once more. But…

“My moon’s blood arrived today,” you told him quickly before the fear in your gut could still your tongue.

Until he made that request, you had been enjoying the time spent with your husband so dearly that you had nearly forgotten the pain in your belly, the undeniable proof of your failure to produce an heir.

Your failure to be a good wife.

As tears sprang to your eyes, you watched his face twist with confusion, then crumple with despair, and finally, freeze into an expression you could not name.

Once more, he felt like a mystery to you – a stranger. Had you really come to know him so well, to care for him enough that even a single unknown expression could cause you this much pain?

You must have, for the pain in your empty womb was nothing compared to that which now took hold of your heart.

He looked to the flagstones below you, his mouth starting and failing to find words. “I…” he began, then stopped.

“Aemond?” you asked, desperate now for him to say anything, even if it was to call you stupid again.

Your mind was so clouded by fear at what he may say next that you did not realise it was the first time you had called him by his name since the wedding ceremony.

His eye met yours again, and he raised his brows. “Thank you for the walk.”

And then he left. Again.

To your credit, you did not cry until you were back in your rooms.

-

You did not go to dinner that night or even eat the meal that was brought to your rooms.

You only prayed and cried and prayed some more. Until you fell asleep on the couch in your sitting room.

After waking in the dark at some point in the night, with a blanket over your shoulders. You knew you should move to the bed, or you would be sore in the morning. But whatever you did, you would be sore for at least a few more days. So, you stayed on the couch.

For a while, you watched the door, hoping that Aemond would walk through and throw himself at your feet as he begged your forgiveness. And despite your better judgment, you would give it to him without hesitation.

But he did not come.

Eventually, you fell asleep again.

When you woke once more, you were indeed sore. But it was quickly forgotten when you saw something unfamiliar on the table before you – a leather-bound journal and a folded note with your name written on it in beautiful script.

Curious but cautious, you only grabbed the note before settling back into your seat to read it:

My dearest wife,

Forgive me for not coming to you myself to apologise, but given the way I acted the last time I did so, I believe you will prefer this.

I am so very sorry that my behaviour towards you has been utterly abhorrent. Please know that my stumbling words and foolish actions come not from a place of malice or even indifference. Rather, they are an attempt by a stupid and incompetent man to try and impress his wife.

There is nothing in the world that I desire so much as to see you happy. Nothing I wish for more than to see your smile and, if the gods bless me, to be the reason for it.

For my love, when you smiled at me yesterday – I have never felt anything so wonderful.

But as the past weeks have shown, I fear I am incapable of presenting myself with dignity when I am in your presence. Your beauty, kindness, and pure goodness overwhelm me the moment I see you, and all my good sense abandons me. No matter my intentions, nor the poetry I compose in my mind prior to coming to you, the very moment I am with you, I become little more than a bumbling idiot, unable to even say ‘hello’ without somehow offending or upsetting you.

So, I will no longer try. I know I have caused you much more discomfort than anything, and it pains me beyond measure. Already, I have begged the Seven for their forgiveness, and now I beg yours.

If you do not wish to give it, I will understand. I will accept whatever you decide and act accordingly. If you wish to not see me again, I will disappear. But I would be doing you a disservice as your husband if I did not at least share with you the depth of my feelings before we are parted – if that is indeed what you desire, though I hope it is not.

I am all too aware that if I tried to do this myself, I would say some ridiculous thing to make you hate me forever. That is, I admit, my greatest fear. So, I have asked the servants to deliver you this note, along with my diary. I know you keep your own, for I have seen it in your chambers. Therefore, you know that what you will read is not merely words, but the truths of my very soul.

Please know that I am not afraid to share it with you. As my wife, you are entitled to know everything about me. But more than that, I want you to. I want you to see all that I am, to know me as well as the gods themselves. I pray that what you will learn will not frighten or upset you but show you the man I so wish to be. The man I would be, if you allow me.

I pray you will like him, perhaps even learn to love him. For he loves you so very, very much.

I have marked the passages I most want you to read, but you have my permission to read everything. I will not hide anything from you, not anymore.

With all my love, more than you know,

Your husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen

As you lowered the note, now stained with several of your tears, you looked at the journal – the diary – on the table. It contained the truth of your husband, the man who had confused and angered you, delighted and amazed you.

It was a truth that, once you knew it, would change you forever.

But you had already been changed, hadn’t you? Irrevocably. The only thing the diary would change was whether it was for the better or for the worse.

So, after one last prayer, you set Aemond’s note back on the table, picked up the diary, and began to read.

-

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you) If I forgot you, I'm sorry! I've never had a taglist this big before!

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[springtyme]

Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.

So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.

I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!

Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡

Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.

Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.

You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.

Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.

He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.

As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.

Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.

It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.

“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.

Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.

“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”

“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.

Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.

“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.

You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.

Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”

“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.

You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.

You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.

Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.

And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.

As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move

“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.

Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.

“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.

“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.

As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.