#i wish i could color it but that would take twice as long

[spooky-pop]

Ok part 1 of this comic is coming this week I swear, it'll be 5 pages :}

[fushigurro]

can i request pussydrunk virgin!yuji 🫣 ik that your first time w him is so soft

𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙄𝙕𝙀𝘿.

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / established relationship / virgin!yuuji / no pronouns for reader / unprotected piv sex / creampie, a smidge of yuuji with a praise kink / 1.3k words

absolutely!!! tysm for sending this in. i've been slowly chipping away at it over the last few days lol, and i hope i managed to do yuuji a little bit of justice in my first piece for him! gotta start somewhere, am i right?

It starts with a relatively chaste kiss on the couch in the middle of a movie (Human Earthworm 2, to be exact), but it isn’t long before a small peck snowballs into hungry, open-mouthed kisses that leave the two of you gasping for air in between. Yuuji’s cheeks match the color of his hair and he’s already straining in his pants, dripping with youthful desperation. He’s thought about this moment an alarming number of times while lying alone in bed at night, anticipating the day it might truly happen. He would dream up an explicit scenario and stroke himself to sleep, desire overriding the shame of imagining your heat taking every last inch of him for the first time, and now, it seems like it may finally be a possibility.

 Yuuji usually does his best to be a gentleman, but the lustful way your tongue occupies his mouth has him moaning and gripping at your thigh for dear life, tightly pressing against you and wishing he could practically crawl into your skin just to feel you closer. He doesn’t want to be sitting beside you anymore—he wants to be on top of you, underneath you, inside you more than he can properly articulate.

You can’t help but notice the way he feverishly squirms, and you’re beginning to feel quite impatient yourself. “Are you okay with this, Yuuji?” you ask, not wanting to push him in a direction that he isn’t prepared to go in.

He nods eagerly, itching to reattach himself to your lips. “Yeah… yeah, ‘m definitely okay with this,” Yuuji responds hastily, breathlessly.

You pet at his pastel locks and look him in the eye, your voice soft yet serious. “Do you wanna go into my bedroom?”

His golden eyes widen as he gulps, but then he’s silently nodding and letting you lead him to the bed.

Your lips are on his as soon as he sits on the mattress, and you do him the favor of removing your shirt so that he can ogle your breasts as though they’re the most interesting things he’s ever seen (because they are). You don’t have to ask twice for him to peel his own shirt off because he’s practically jumping for joy at the opportunity to do so, longing to feel your chest press against his with nothing in between.

You admire the toned structure of his body, fingertips dipping along his abs while a strong hand of his own comes up to palm at your breast. He marvels at the feeling, a boyish glee pulsing through his veins as he fondles you uninhibited. It’s so sincere that you simply can’t take issue with it; in fact, it only serves to arouse you that much more.

“You feel amazing,” Yuuji says as his hands continue to roam your body, soaking in the texture of your skin through his fingertips. He even dares to tweak a nipple, oh so eager to draw every possible reaction from your body despite his lack of experience.

You chuckle at the awe in his voice and body language. “I know what would feel even more amazing.”

It isn’t long before you have him stripped bare with his pretty head on the pillow, gazing up at you as you promptly straddle his waist. You’re like an ethereal being to him, and his hands instinctively move to rest upon your hips, ever eager to latch onto the mesmerizing warmth of your bare skin. What’s even more mesmerizing is the warmth of your cunt as it shifts closer to his throbbing length, hovering over it with the promise of complete and utter euphoria.

You lean forward to kiss him once more before asking, “Are you ready?”

Yuuji nods and grips your hips a little tighter, his heart racing in his chest as you breathe against him. “Yeah.”

Reaching a hand down between your bodies, you gently take hold of his cock and slide the tip of it between your folds, earning a shiver from him as it’s coated with slick and settling just at your entrance. His eyes never leave yours throughout, but they’re already starting to go glassy from the sensation of your dripping arousal against him.

Without further ado, you finally let him breach you, sinking down onto his girth little by little until you’re finally seated and being stretched completely from the inside. Yuuji lets out a moan at the feeling of you surrounding him so tightly, the pleasure unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He needs more.

“Fuuuuck,” he curses breathlessly, already in a borderline hypnotized state.

You rise up and start to bounce your hips after a moment of adjustment, breath hitching as he fills you over and over and looks at you with a gratefulness that sears itself into your memory. You place a hand on his chest and feel his thudding heart within while his cock prods deeper into you than you thought possible.

“Fuck, Yuuji,” you say with a furrowed brow, sweat already working its way to the surface of your skin as you increase the pace of your hips. Meanwhile, Yuuji already looks properly fucked out, eyelids heavy and jaw slacked with bliss. If you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you out, you’d notice that his fingers are practically bruising the skin on your hips.

His eyes move down from your face to watch your tits bounce with every motion, and this stokes the fire in his belly to burn hotter than he could ever imagine. Almost mindlessly, Yuuji’s hips suddenly begin to work up against yours in a desperate rhythm, chasing after something that he can hardly even comprehend at this point. His mind feels hazy—empty, even, save for the all-consuming desire to be as deep in you as possible, filling you completely and tasting everything that you have to offer.

The volume of both your moans rises each time your bodies meet, and he feels so incredible with every stroke that you’re compelled to let him know. “Feels s’good, Yuuji. You’re so good.”

He gives a loud groan at that, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as your praise takes hold of him. Your efforts are hardly required anymore, hips no longer needing to drop down onto his as he takes the notion to slam up into you instead, drunk determination in his beautiful eyes and a trickle of drool shamelessly sliding from the corner of his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” he warns, no longer able to hold himself back but completely incapable of stopping either.

“Go ahead,” you tell him without a second thought, “cum for me.”

“I-inside?” he asks in his final moments of self-control.

You circle a finger around your clit and clench around him with a hasty nod. “Mhm. Inside.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yuuji holds his breath as his cock starts pulsing inside you, then he lets out a series of appreciative moans, head spinning with the intensity of his orgasm. You continue furiously stroking your clit, using your last bit of strength to roll your hips as he fills you up and starts to go limp, until you’re finally overcome with the blinding pleasure of your own high. It wracks you and takes you down to rest on his chest as he heaves for air and your body trembles against him.

Yuuji’s hands move to hold the small of your back, and you peer up at his dopey face with an interesting look of your own.

“I think that was the greatest moment of my entire life,” he manages to say, and you break out into a small fit of laughter.

“Well, I’m glad enjoyed yourself.” You bring a hand up to wipe away the drool and sweat from his face.

“Did you?” He asks, genuinely curious with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” you reply, grinning with a flavor of mischief. “Absolutely.”

[penkura]

Our Angel

Summary: Sanji can't believe how lucky he is to have you and this little baby you brought into the world.

Warning: Mentions of giving birth, pregnancy discussion, loving husband Sanji :3

Note: Ahh the final one-shot I have done from the 'knowing' universe! :') I wrote this after the last one, and it's long but also one of my favorites. I love writing Sanji, please let me write more for him.

How much longer? How much longer??

Sanji's anxiety was through the roof as he paced back and forth in front of the infirmary door. You were finally in labor and Chopper and Robin had kicked him out of the room, thinking he was making you more stressed than your contractions were. He could hear them guiding you through the next contraction and telling you to start pushing, and he really, really wanted a cigarette for the first time in months.

He desperately wanted to be in there with you, but didn't want you more stressed than you already were. Sanji believed it couldn't be too much longer, but also wasn't entirely sure. Labor could last hours or even multiple days, yours was progressing quickly though, and it wouldn't be long before you met your baby face to face. Sanji leaned against the door, holding his breath without realizing it, just waiting and listening.

And a few moments later, he finally released his breath when he heard a baby's cries, standing up straight and facing the door, his anxiety finally being taken off his shoulders. He could hear Robin and Chopper congratulating you and telling you that you did amazingly, but he couldn't hear if they said whether you had a boy or girl, or how the baby was doing. The cries though told him that your newborn was doing just well, they were very upset to be in the world now, but it would be all right over time.

After several more minutes of waiting and his anxiety picking up again, Sanji was beyond glad to see the infirmary door open and Robin giving him a smile.

"You can come back in now."

He didn't need to be told twice, quickly entering the room and hurrying to your side, making you laugh when he got to you, dropping to his knees beside your bed and taking your hand before hugging you as close as possible.

"Sanji~"

"I'm so glad you're okay! Both of you!"

Sanji started kissing you all over your face, making you laugh lightly until you both heard a small cry, which made him freeze a bit before looking at your little baby resting comfortably on your chest. Seeing the tears start to well up in his eyes made you smile softly before you looked back at your newborn child.

"What do you think?"

"They're…perfect."

"Isn't she?"

"She?!"

Laughing again you nodded. Through the later months of your pregnancy, Sanji made it clear how badly he wanted and hoped you were having a girl. When your baby first kicked, there was so much excitement between the two of you that he inadvertently called them she, surprising you until you questioned him about it.

"She?"

"...I said they."

"No, Sanji, you said she." You giggled a bit seeing how embarrassed he was at letting his wish for a daughter out like that. "You think we're having a girl?"

"I…hope we are."

You definitely had realized, even before then, that Sanji would be a great girl dad, and now he could prove that to you with your newborn daughter. Just the fact he seemed hesitant to even touch her tiny hand for a second told you he was going to be the most protective dad you'd ever met.

"She looks exactly like you, Sanji."

"She…she really does." Sanji finally reached out and barely brushed your daughter's cheek with his knuckle, which made her move just a bit. She looked like she was his clone almost. The same blonde hair, same curled eyebrows. She basically got nothing from you and everything from your husband, but you didn't really mind it. You might get lucky and she'd get your eye color, but even then it would be all right if not.

She was still your perfect little daughter.

"Can I," Sanji pulled you from your thoughts, nervously biting his lip a bit while looking from your daughter to you, "can I hold her…?"

"Of course!"

Nerves started bubbling up, but Sanji let you show him the best way to hold your daughter. He held her close, keeping one of his hands under her head to give her more support, while she started to whine when she was moved from you to him. You weren't at all surprised when Sanji started to gently hush her, kissing her forehead and softly telling her that she was all right.

"Yeah, it's ok, sweetheart. Daddy's got you, angel."

Your daughter calmed down almost immediately, opening her eyes to try and focus on Sanji, and it nearly took his breath away to see her looking up at him. This was what you two had waited the last nine months for. To finally see and meet your daughter face to face, and here she was! A precious, beautiful little angel that fit perfectly in his arms and looked at him like he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen (which, granted, she'd really only seen you and Sanji, but it still meant everything to him). You just watched as Sanji stared at her and she stared back at him, before she yawned and snuggled herself more comfortably in his arms, you noticing how his bottom lip was trembling while he watched her fall asleep, kissing her forehead again and whispering how much he loved your sweet little girl.

"[Y/N]...thank you so much for her."

Hearing how strained Sanji's voice was made you smile softly, knowing he was fighting to not start crying. Not right now, he didn't want to wake your daughter or cause her any distress.

"What do you think we should name her?"

"I…I'm not sure, love."

"Well, I have an idea."

+!+

When you had gone into labor, the rest of your crewmates were off the ship. You'd docked at an island the day before and they'd all gone to explore a bit, pick up a few things, and let the log pose reset. You had hoped to go later in the day but obviously things had changed and you wouldn't be joining anyone on this island this time. Robin and Chopper had stayed behind just in case, since you were near your due date anyway and it was a good thing they did.

Once Luffy and the others got back, they were surprised Robin was the only one on the deck of the Sunny waiting for them. Luffy of course was the one to ask, running up to Robin and asking if you were sleeping or something. You'd normally be on the deck waiting for everyone, so it was weird they didn't see you this time.

Robin smiled a bit, "Well I assume she is by now. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl while you all were gone."

Everyone was completely silent, expecting Robin to say she was just kidding to get a rise out of them.

"I'm not joking by the way."

With that statement there were shouts from Usopp, Luffy, and Nami, the latter of the three running for the infirmary right away saying she needed to see her niece. Not even having seen your daughter yet but being happy for you, Franky and Brook were in tears, while Zoro smiled a bit and Jimbei gave a smile and a nod.

"Sounds like the crew has expanded by one then."

Luffy and Usopp were quick to follow after Nami, nearly breaking down the infirmary door asking to see your daughter.

You were actually wide awake, holding your daughter and showing her off to Nami who was cooing softly towards her.

"What a little cutie, yes you are! Aunt Nami is going to buy you lots of cute dresses!"

You laughed a bit while your daughter stared up at Nami, seeming to be completely amazed by her. "You wanna hold her?"

Nami was about to respond when Luffy pushed past her, getting up close to see your daughter. "She's so small!"

"Luffy!" Sanji grabbed your captain by the back of his shirt and started pulling him away. "Get out of her face! You're going to scare her and make her cry!"

"No I'm not!"

"Hey guys."

"Yes you are!" Honestly Sanji trusted Luffy a lot, but he needed to learn boundaries, especially with a newborn baby.

"Nuh-uh! She's gonna think I'm funny!"

"Boys."

"And if she doesn't?!"

"Then…then…I don't know?"

"Idiots!" Nami was close to bashing both their heads in, but her outburst got their attention. "You're both about to make her cry!"

Sanji looked over and saw you gently hushing your daughter who was starting to whine and whimper like she was about to cry, him rushing over by your side to help with quiet, sweet words that he was sorry and didn't mean to be loud.

"My apologies, Angel. I didn't mean to startle you."

Once she calmed back down, you let Usopp and Luffy come over and see her, both of them looking amazed by how small she was. Luffy kept begging to hold her, Nami telling him she had first dibs, and Usopp asking how you both were. Your other crewmates joined you all after a bit, Brook offering to start playing a lullaby to keep your baby girl calm while Franky was crying about how super it was to meet her finally. Robin returned to make sure you weren't getting overwhelmed, and Chopper wanted to do another check on your daughter to be certain she was doing all right. Jimbei gave you his congratulations and said you'd had a beautiful baby, while Zoro mostly stayed to the side, but he did smile just a bit, glad for you to have safely delivered your baby.

You were doing well with everyone there, answering questions and letting each of your crewmates see your daughter up close, they all took turns briefly holding her since they knew that, obviously, they'd have plenty of chances to do so in the future. Once Nami got a hold of her a second time, she refused to let her go to anyone that wasn't you or Sanji. She was going to absolutely spoil your daughter and everyone could see that.

"Hey hey," Luffy latched onto your arm, giving you a big grin, "what'd you guys name her??"

The small bits of chatter quieted hearing Luffy's question, most of your friends looking at you or Sanji for an answer. Nami still had your daughter in her arms, very gently bouncing the sleeping newborn.

You smiled at Sanji with a slight nod, him returning the gesture to speak up.

"We've decided to call her Angel. After calling her that while [Y/N] was pregnant, it…it felt right."

Truthfully you had offered to name her after Sanji's mother, whether you'd had a boy or girl, and he almost took you up on it, but felt that for now, he'd wanted to give your child their own, unique name. He really did greatly appreciate you wanting to honor his mother, but didn't feel ready for that yet. And like he'd said, you two had called your daughter an angel the whole time you were pregnant, actually naming her Angel felt like the right thing to do and you both thought it sounded wonderful when you decided.

"What a sweet name." Robin smiled and nodded, the rest of your crewmates agreeing with her.

After some time Chopper said you needed rest and it was close to dinner time, making Sanji nod.

"I'll go get something started for–"

"Nope!" Shaking her head, Nami handed Angel back to Sanji to stop him. "We'll take care of dinner and bring you guys some; you stay with your wife and daughter, Sanji!"

With a grin she left the infirmary and headed straight for the kitchen, everyone else following shortly after her, once they'd given you another congratulations and said goodnight to their niece. Seeing the shocked look on Sanji’s face made you laugh once everyone else had left.

“...did I just get banned from my own kitchen?”

+!+

The rest of the evening went by smoothly and quietly for your little family. Nami had sent Zoro to bring you and Sanji dinner once it was done, and you were grateful for having so many people to take care of your family while you recovered. Chopper came in a few times to check up on you and Angel, making sure both of you were doing well before he headed off to bed, telling Sanji to come get him if anything happened. After you had dinner and nursed Angel again, you went and took a quick shower, leaving Sanji with your daughter which made him terribly nervous even though he knew it was only going to take you a few minutes to shower. All he did the whole time you were gone was watch her sleep. You'd given her a pacifier to hopefully keep her calm and sleeping, and it did work. Sanji was just so enthralled with her, gently hushing her and stroking her chubby cheek whenever she started to fuss a little.

"Hey it's alright, don't cry. Mommy will be back soon, daddy's got you for now."

When you did get back, you held back a laugh seeing Sanji was nearly asleep while holding Angel. Quietly, you went over and took her from him, waking your sleepy husband and telling him it was just you, you were going to get Angel to bed so you both could sleep. While Sanji followed your lead and went to take a shower himself, you got Angel ready for bed and comfortable in a bassinet near you, she was sleeping soundly and you knew she'd wake at some point in the night, but until then, you'd watch her sleep and hold her little hand, making sure she knew you weren't going anywhere.

"I love you so much, Angel," leaning over, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "I'm so glad you're ours."

Once he came back from his own shower, Sanji wasn't even the slightest bit surprised to find you already asleep, still holding your daughter's hand. You'd had quite a day, having pushed a whole new person out into the world, nursing her multiple times, and having to deal with your anxious crewmates for several hours after they got back. It was a wonder you'd stayed awake as long as you had! Sanji knew he was staying with you in the infirmary as long as Chopper made you and Angel stay there, so he did the same as you and kissed your daughter's forehead, before slipping into your bed beside you, bringing you close to him and kissing your cheek once he did.

"I'm so proud of you, [Y/N]. You've been amazing today."

You shifted a bit, making Sanji smile when you told him you loved him before falling back fast asleep.

"I love you too…both of you."

+!+

Your sweet little Angel had grown so much in the last three years. She had ended up with your eye color, which made you beyond happy that she'd gotten something from you. She'd learned to walk, talk, and had the brightest smile and giggles on the Sunny, apart from Luffy that is. She really was an angel to everyone, but especially you and Sanji.

Her first steps weren't really because of you or Sanji, it was Luffy and Usopp trying to get her to start taking a few on her own. She'd been able to walk a slight bit at the time with someone holding her hands, but not on her own yet. You absolutely trusted Usopp and Luffy with her (despite how many times Luffy tossed her into the air and caught her, the fear you felt the first time made you consider leaving), they were helping Angel learn to walk under your watch, you were sitting nearby on a lounger with Sanji, who was slightly nervous watching them. Honestly Sanji was the more nervous parent at times, but you knew he just wanted Angel to be as safe as possible while you all traveled the seas.

"Come onnnnn, you can do it, Angel!" Luffy grinned at her with his arms wide open, while Usopp had a hold of her hands, keeping her standing up. Angel frowned a bit, tears welling up in her eyes when she tried to reach for Luffy but couldn't grab him. He was only a few feet away, he'd easily be able to hurry over and lift her up, but your captain also really wanted to see her take her steps on her own.

"You wanna try, Angel?" Usopp smiled and let go of one of her hands to ruffle her hair a bit, which made her whine slightly. Luffy took two very small steps forward, arms still wide open and grinning.

"You can do it!"

Angel kept reaching her free hand towards Luffy, before she looked at her feet and took a step, looking back at him while she started to walk on her own once Usopp let go of her hand.

Watching your then nine-month-old daughter take her first solo steps caused you to tear up while Sanji was beaming with pride. Angel made it over to Luffy on her own, and once she did, he scooped her up in his arms with loud laughter.

"Yahoo, you did it, Angel!!"

"Good job! Next you'll be running around the ship!"

Angel giggled loudly while Luffy tossed her gently into the air. After the one time he threw her too high up causing you and Sanji to threaten him he'd been more careful, especially seeing how much she enjoyed being tossed up and caught. After that, she started following you and Sanji like a duckling, eventually getting to where she was running around the Sunny, either chasing someone or being chased with loud laughter.

When she said her first word, you weren't even on the ship. You had gone into town with Franky and Jimbei when you landed on an island, checking the place out to see what stores they had and how long it would take the log pose to reset. You'd left Angel on the ship with Sanji, and while he was grateful for the time with your daughter, he was also trying to figure out what groceries he needed to go shopping for the next day. Nami offered to entertain Angel while he checked the pantry and fridge, taking her out to the deck for some sun and to play with her.

"You are just so cuuuuuute! You got your daddy's hair and eyebrows but your mommy's face!"

Angel smiled and giggled a bit at Nami, covering her mouth with her little hands. At this point she was already 18-months-old, but hadn't said her first word just yet. You weren't very concerned, knowing it would happen when it happened, but every evening when the three of you went to your room, Sanji would sit with Angel on your bed and try to get her to say something more than her toddler babbling.

"Come on, sweetheart. Can you say dada?"

Angel babbled, no discernable words coming from her mouth while she smiled and reached at Sanji.

"Then…mama?"

"Mmmm….mmmm…." She pressed her lips together before sticking her tongue out.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think she's ready yet, Sanji."

Nami had given Angel a coloring book and some crayons to entertain herself, especially once she started talking with Zoro about the money he owed her.

"I'm just saying, if you leave me with a little of your allowance every time we dock, you'll be paid off in no time!"

"How much is a little?"

"Mmm," Nami thought for a second, patting Angel on the head when she smiled at her, "about 300 berries."

"That's a tenth of what you give me!"

"Yeah, and?"

Zoro's eye twitched slightly, obviously annoyed by this. It wasn't his fault all the stuff he normally bought was expensive, or that he spent a decent bit of it on booze!

The two argued a bit more while Angel watched them, giggling a bit when Zoro lifted her up.

"Wait, where are you taking her?!"

"Nap time. Right, tiny cook?"

"Nap!"

Nami and Zoro both stared at Angel in surprise, your daughter yawning a little and sticking her thumb in her mouth.

"Did she just…?"

"She did! Sanji!!"

Hearing Nami yell for him, Sanji dropped what he was doing and ran out to the deck instantly. "What's wrong?!"

"Listen, listen!!" Nami turned back to Angel and Zoro, telling him to say what he did before.

"Hey, it's nap time, right?"

Angel nodded. "Nap!"

Hearing her say an actual word, not toddler babbling, made Sanji's jaw drop and he started to tear up a bit. "Y-Yeah! It's nap time, Angel!"

Honestly it was an odd first word, but when you heard her say it, it made you smile and hug her close, kissing her chubby cheeks and telling her how proud you were. After that, the words came more easily and she quickly realized she knew who mama and dada were, and started calling you and Sanji whenever she needed you. She eventually had nicknames for everyone so she could call them easily, and your crewmates accepted them instantly.

As she got older, turning three more recently, you'd become even more amazed with your daughter and how she was becoming her own person. She was a giggly mess most days, loved fruit over every other food, and took naps almost as often as Zoro. They had become napping buddies much to Sanji's chagrin, but he eventually accepted since Zoro would bring Angel to one of you once she was awake.

Nami made good on her promise to buy Angel lots of cute dresses, your daughter's wardrobe was better than yours. Robin would sit and read with her until she fell asleep most nap times, if Zoro wasn't around at the moment. Usopp and Luffy would play games like tag or hide and seek with her, one of them always having Angel on their shoulders in a team up against the other. Chopper would join them most of the time, or he and Angel would play on the swing or in the kiddy pool together. Franky made Angel new toys constantly, only with your approval did he give them to her. Brook would play whatever song or lullaby Angel wanted to hear, or do his infamous 45 Degrees to make her burst out laughing. Jimbei would tell her (along with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper) various stories he had from before he joined you all, and she loved every one of them.

Despite your love for your crewmates, you had more enjoyed introducing Angel to the Baratie crew over everyone else. After your pregnancy was confirmed, Sanji had given them a call, speaking to Zeff before anyone else and letting him know he was going to, basically, be a grandfather. It became so quiet that you and Sanji both wondered if the connection got severed, before hearing Patty yell asking why Zeff was crying over the transponder snail receiver. It made Sanji tear up worse than when you told him you were definitely pregnant, and he had to give you the receiver to tell the rest of the Baratie crew. When they all heard, they cheered and gave congratulations to you and Sanji, a few of them saying you absolutely had to stop by once the baby had been born. Once Angel was born, you sent over all the pictures you took of her so everyone at Baratie could see her as she grew up. Eventually your ship made it back to the East Blue and the Baratie, around the time of Angel's second birthday, which Zeff demanded you to celebrate there once you arrived. You dressed her in a cute little, frilly pink dress that Nami had gotten her, and knew Sanji was anxious for everyone to meet the both of you properly. Of course, you'd been with the Straw Hats already when you'd been by and recruited Sanji, but things had moved so fast back then that formal introductions were an afterthought. Now that Sanji was back with you as his wife and with his little daughter, it was definitely nerve-wracking for him.

Well, it was until the three of you stepped inside and all the chefs quickly rushed to see Angel, all of them fawning over and doting on her. Almost all his nerves went away as Patty, Carne, and the others tearfully loved on your daughter and introduced themselves to both of you properly. Angel became shy with so many new faces, reaching for Sanji to take her from you which he did, and she hid her face in his shoulder.

"Aww come on little one, what's wrong?"

"She's just overwhelmed. It's too many people at once."

Hearing that, most of the Baratie chefs dissipated in order to let Angel relax again, the only one coming up to the three of you was Zeff himself, bringing back Sanji's nerves.

"Well, the baby eggplant has his own baby eggplant now."

"Watch your mouth with my daughter, crap geezer." The smiles on both their faces told you all was well, this was the norm between Sanji and Chef Zeff. Sanji got Angel's attention to get her to lift her face from his shoulder, pointing her view to Zeff. "This is your grandad, Angel."

Angel blinked a little, not the slightest bit scared and reached for Zeff, knowing it was safe because Sanji said so. Once Zeff had a hold of her, Angel just smiled and giggled, giving him a loose hug. It made him turn away from both of you, confusing you the most, until you heard Carne shout that Zeff was crying again and got to be the first to hold Angel. You laughed when you noticed Sanji had turned away as well, fighting his own tears. The rest of your visit was less tearful, filled more with laughter while everyone entertained Angel and you told all the stories you had of her up until then. You did also learn that Zeff kept every picture you sent of her in his room, a fact that made Sanji happier than you could have imagined.

After your visit back to Baratie, you kept in touch by sending more pictures, even a few letters telling stories of what Angel was learning and how well she was growing.

The last three years had changed so much, you and Sanji couldn't imagine life without your little angel.

"[Y/N], mon amour! Angel, my dearest!!"

"Daddy!!" Angel's bright [e/c] eyes lit up, squealing when Sanji came over to the both of you, providing you with a drink and snack, and Angel with her favorite snack of apple juice and carrots.

"I've got your drinks and snacks for the day!" He gave you both the most loving smile, making you return it and Angel giggled.

"Say thank you daddy!"

"Thank youuu!"

Clutching his heart, Sanji still couldn't believe his luck, even after all this time. Seven years married to you, three years of life as a father. The amount of love he had for you two made it feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest most days.

"Oh, my beautiful girls!! What gods did I please to deserve you?! I love you both so much!!"

You laughed a bit, taking a sip of your fruity water and rubbing your slightly swollen stomach. "What're you gonna do if this one's a boy?"

"Oh, that's easy," Sanji gave you a loving smile while he picked Angel up as she requested, "I'll love him as much as I love you both."

"Have you thought about what I said? For a name?"

Nodding, Sanji sat beside you on the lounger with Angel still in his arms, her grabbing her sippy cup and a baby carrot.

"I have, and I think…I'll take you up on it this time."

Smiling, you gave a slight nod, before kissing his cheek with a hand still on your stomach.

"Sora it is then."

A few months later, you ended up having a little boy with your hair and Sanji's eyes, and Angel was absolutely in love with her baby brother once Sanji introduced him to her. Your crewmates once again were beyond happy for you, and you just couldn't imagine your life turning out any other way.

[libertyybellls]

IF YOU BUILT YOURSELF A MYTH !

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; finnicks failure of being able to save you and bring you to district 13 will eat away at him until he is blessed to see your face again.

contains; tooth rotting FLUFF, comfort, reunions, lil kisses but who rlly gaf tbh, slight angst at the beginning bc i can’t help myself. torture mentions but not descriptive. finnick loves reader like a dog :( as always- not proofread.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

he’s picking at his fingers, practically pulling his hair out. in a state of such worry he wishes someone was here to keep him in line. he’s waiting for someone, anyone, to come through these doors and tell him you’re here, you’re okay.

he’s sure that everyone else is fed up with his antics, they can all recall his incessant and undying persistence to see you, so desperate, so distraught.

but instead he has not moved- still desperately trying to settle the ache in his guts and mind when he thinks of you. where are you? have you called out for him? in what world would he not answer back? why hasn’t he stormed the capitol and stolen you back himself?

it is only then when he sees you, does he comprehend your state. you’re in worse shape than johanna- but not quite as bad as what he’s heard of peeta. and for that small, small victory he selfishly finds himself thanking god.

“sweetheart?” he’s scared, nervous to touch you, frightened to disturb you.

you look at him now- studying his face, his eyes. oh, his eyes. you couldn’t find a better color- and you’re sure you’ve looked everywhere to no avail.

you don’t know where you are, how you got here, when finnick had shown up, how long he’d been there, but you knew that by his shoulders not being squared off- his brows being unfurrowed, his jaw unclenched, it was by his body language that you knew you were safe.

to finnick, you looked as if you’d built a book all in your head and had been reading it upside down- like you were back in that arena, and it hurt him inside.

you’d been there twice before- and survived both times, but now you looked like you’d left something in the quarter quell. something that would make it all make sense. you don’t remember what you were doing before the 75th annual games had been announced, and you don’t know what your plans were for after. were they with finnick? did you plan to have a family?

now you weren’t so sure you wanted a family in a world where the capitol had control over each and every decision you’d make, who would do that to a child?

you remember your hands being of no use to you, you couldn’t take your shock collar off, couldn’t cover your ears from the jabberjays, couldn’t pull yourself out of the water, couldn’t fight off the peacekeepers that tormented you- but it didn’t matter now.

with your faint memory you could see finnick- you could see him and his curious eyes wanting to drink in your every thought.your hand reaches for his, and when his fingertips meet your skin you refrain from flinching- you want this, you want him back. you want to soak up his presence as if it were slipping away. you grab for more of him, more and more and more until he wearily hoists himself next to you on the hospital bed.

you breathe him in, your head pressed into his chest. You want to study the lines of his face, the way his hair has somehow grown- making it seem like you’d been apart forever, the bags under his eyes- all thanks to you.

“finnick.” you breathe out, and he knows it��s not a question, more of a statement.

you don’t want him to remind you of everything just yet- for now, you’re just making sure he’s real, that you know it’s really him here and not one of the illusions that had been forced into your mind. he kisses the top of your head, he worries. he worries for your brain, for your body, your soul, your dignity. he worries what they’ve done to you- what he should’ve been sure to prevent. he worries himself sick, but his body does not shake and hurl as it wishes to- he holds himself up on one arm to admire you. he keeps composure for you, because in this moment you are whole, heart beating, brain functioning, and hands reaching out for him- and he will not take that for granted.

he kisses the back of each of your hands, your eyes are fluttering shut. he intoxicates you- inebriated on his love and warmth you pull yourself closer into his chest- only in your silence do you heal.

he hums with your bodies melted into one another- an almost ticklish vibration from his being to yours. “i love you.” a few of the many words he had to get out. i’m sorry i couldn’t save you sooner. the fact that i wasn’t there to save you in the first place eats away at me. i am lost without you. i need you. but nevertheless he sums it up with three words.

-

pls use my inbox i need reccs my brain is empty

[tragedy-of-commons]

composition

aventurine x gn!reader | wc: ~1k

He needs to go before he decides that he needs to stay.

tags/warnings: cute domesticity, but since it's aven it has to be a little angsty, skin drawing/inking, mentioned topaz

notes: standalone but i'm thinking of expanding on this universe in the future :3c sdfsdfsdf not happy with how it turned out but fuck it

The ballpoint tip of your pen glides over his hand, leaving another trail of red in its wake.

Aventurine watches with rapt attention. The intricate patterns of swirling ink that you insist on marking him with definitely make it harder to color-match an outfit - but he indulges the habit anyway. Perhaps it’s the artificially sweet aroma that’s typical of such cheap writing utensils; he’s now accustomed to the smell of chemically-grown raspberries while you use him as your canvas.

It’s tolerable, seeing you poke out your tongue in concentration while doodling with no rhyme or reason. Some strokes are thick and jagged, wrapping around the myriad of thinner ones to create a picture he can’t discern. 

(However, when you usually finish, you beam in satisfaction. He doesn’t peg you as the abstract type, but he wonders what you see that he can’t.)

His phone vibrates twice in his free hand. The new messages that grace the screen are of no surprise:

Topaz The booking’s confirmed. I handled it and was able to score us better rooms ✨

Topaz Cruor V is too cold to skimp out on the suites with thermal heaters. Now if you could just be on time for once, that’d make my job a LOT easier.

You hum, sage. “Time to go?”

Aventurine makes a show of examining your handiwork after you pull away from him. “Unfortunately, the IPC’s gains take precedence. Although, I could argue that dedicating my time to the arts is much more valuable in the long run.”

“Hah,” you snap the cap back onto the pen. “If you argue much longer, you could make somebody mad. Don’t let my silly doodles keep you, okay?”

There’s a sad smile on your face, and though it doesn’t deter him from leaving right now, he knows that he’ll count each star separating you from him while he sleeps alone on business. He’ll do so with his gloves off, fingers tracing over the faded curves and dips of red - theorizing how many rainstorms it would take to wash you from his person completely.

He finds himself hoping that he’ll never reach a consensus. Aventurine really hasn’t gotten any better at fooling the wide-eyed child clawing at his insides. 

“Yes. That Topaz is probably wishing unspeakable curses upon me right about now,” he lilts, the beginning of the end on the horizon. “See me off?”

“Don’t make it sound so grim,” you complain, “I’m just gonna miss you. You’ll be back on the 24th, right?”

You say it so casually. If he had any less restraint (or any more courage), he would let out a breathy laugh and then chase it with a kiss to your lips. In the past, honey-trapping had come natural to him when he was on assignment; wrapping an arm around the ambassador of an indebted planet, using the bells and whistles of his disposition to make friends with the right people.

You’re not any of that. You’re not any of that, and he knows. It would be pathetic if you knew how much sway you hold over him - how much sway that this pantomime of a relationship holds over him.

Though the scales are forever tipped in his favor, Aventurine finds that it’s woefully unfair. You appear as nonplussed as him; wordlessly letting him into your home at any hour, always cooking for two, and always decorating his skin with that accursed red pen. 

If that makes you cruel, he cannot begin to imagine what it makes him.

“Keen memory,” he brings himself to stand, “Wonder what changed.”

“My memory is fine, thank you very much.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

You flip him off. “Forgetting a few deadlines isn’t substantial evidence!”

Aventurine chuckles, ambling over to the table by the door. On it rests his gloves, which he pulls over his hands. If the ink stains the fabric inside, no one will be able to tell. “Then I’ll make sure to amass a comprehensive portfolio of ‘evidence’ while I’m gone.”

He’s already dressed and presentable for this assignment. In truth, he could have spared Topaz the headache of his tardiness, but what’s the job of Director without a little challenge? He’s sure it will count towards her experience and character, and you get to scribble on him without the constraint of time.

You pad over, embracing him tentatively. Aventurine dithers between pulling you closer and pushing you away, before he settles on doing nothing. His heart isn’t racing, but it feels too small and too big and too full of you. 

“That better be a promise,” you murmur.

(He smells raspberries. He can’t decide if it’s therapeutic or noxious.)

If he were a more selfless person, maybe he’d tell you that promises never go over well for him - that you shouldn’t bother with any of this. After all, ruling a gambler’s heart only serves to turn you into a bargaining chip.

But Aventurine basks in your warmth anyway, letting his shoulders droop. “If you’re so hung up about it, then why not?” 

His phone buzzes somewhere again, and he’s cold as you pull away. “Perfect. Good luck on your.. uh, thing! Tell Numby I said hi.”

“What is it with you and that animal?” he heaves a martyred (fond) sigh. 

You huff. “Warp trotters are cool, Aven!”

“Not when they mercilessly chew up your clothes.” 

Your demands for more information fall on deaf ears, because it really has become time to go. Interastral travel is bothersome, but not so much anymore - meaning that if he’s not at least an hour early, he’s inconceivably behind schedule. His own reasoning tastes acrid.

That note of something has been with Aventurine ever since he woke by your side, searching your sleeping expression aimlessly. He’d chased the feeling with coffee in one of your stupid mugs, a conversation about your too-bright dreams, and letting you scrawl all over him when he desperately needs to go.

He’s ferried past the door, another farewell echoing behind him before he starts walking. The idle images that plague his mind are of stained gloves, the interior of your bedroom, and the calendar in your kitchen with the date of his return circled in red.

You wave to him from the window as he turns the corner. 

He wagers he'll be back on the 24th. 

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[cowyolks]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter One. Midsummers Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: This series is heavily influenced by Hades and Persephone, while I will not exactly state if this is Greek Mythology, I want to add lots of folklore and myths into this series! So let me know if you like it so far!

“Daughter!” The chilling voice of your mother startled you from your book, the passage had managed to suck you in and away from your current reality. Oh how you wished you could stay there.

It was Midsummer, a time of the year that you truly despised.

It met you had to be under the watching eye of your mother, who searched far and low for a suitor for you.

She was the chieftess of your clan, something she made sure to remind you of every waking hour. To put it simply, you were a trainee, a soldier, in her quest of power.

You were not her daughter, but a pawn.

“I’m coming, Mother.” You announced as you carefully put the bookmark down against the paper, hoping you’d return to the pages sooner rather than later.

You left your room reluctantly, taking a glance at the setting sun outside of the window. It was nearly nightfall already, which meant it was time to leave.

“Oh Gods, look at you! Did you fall asleep?” Your mother bounced around you, yanking the uncomfortable corset tighter around your waist and pulling your hair away from your ears to make you look more sophisticated and older.

“I was just reading.” You mumbled, hands gripping the flowing train of your dress, specifically tailored for the Midsummer feast. The color was a crimson red, fading into a soft blush as it reached your ankles– it was the color of your clan.

“You should have been cleaning up, I’ve got three potential suitors coming to visit tonight. You need to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes ma’am.” You sighed, eyes watering at the thought of losing your freedom to a man twice your age. Clans around you didn’t have suitors your age, so it was likely you were to be married off to a man full grown, who would force you to have heirs. It was enough to make you shudder.

A loud caw shook you from your thoughts. Your eyes travelled to the window, where a large crow sat perched upon the sill, it’s beady eyes glancing at you as it always had. It was common to find the bird near you. Something your mother detested, which made it much more interestingto have the crow return to you. You’d read that offering the bird trinkets or food was a way to build trust. So in the springtime at dusk you’d set coins and seeds out for the crow.

It would return with its own gifts, so much more extravagant than the ones you’d given. Golden brooches, silver earrings, and necklaces of stunning ruby; one that you wore on your neck now.

“Shoo!” Your mother cried, as she attempted to smack the bird out of the sill and into the night, and reluctantly the bird left, not without bringing its beady eyes to you first. With a flap, it flew into the night.

“Damn that bird, it’s a wonder people don’t think of you as a witch.”

Sometimes you wished you were one.

It was later in the evening when you saw the bird again. He didn’t make a loud caw as he usually did, instead he perched on the rafters of the pavilion, beady eyes flashing against the gold goblets and lanterns being paraded around.

“Madam-”

You jumped, not noticing the looming presence behind you until he spoke. You wheeled around with a hand upon your chest, startled.

“I did not mean to startle you…” he started.

“No sir, it’s quite alright. It seems I was only lost in my mind.” You brushed off, instead searching over his features. He was old, at least older than you, with a clean shaven face and head, and violent eyes that swirled in the light. It seemed to come as a great effort to keep his rage at bay.

“Hershel Shepherd.” He introduced, holding a large hand out to you. Hesitantly you placed your palm in his hand, his grip tight and uncomfortable. You bit back a wince, faintly hearing the crow caw indifferently.

You turned to the bird slightly, instead catching your mother’s stern stare, she vaguely made a gesture to the man that had spoke to you.

A suitor.

He was so old.

With a gulp, you turned back to the man known as Shepherd, plastering a fake smile upon your lips. With careful words you introduced yourself, watching as his eyes fired again at the greeting. Was that flames?

“Care to dance?”

As if your mother would allow you to say no.

You looped your hand in his, settling the other gracefully on his shoulder, just as you were taught.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t swooped to marry you yet.” His tone made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. There was something off about this man, and it made your throat tighten in wary.

“All the suitors say I’m too strong-minded.”

“An easy fix. You just need some discipline.”

You stopped dancing, feeling how tight his grip was upon your waist and hand. It hurt, but you didn’t want to let him know that.

“Excuse me?” You asked incredulously, now actually seeing the flames burn in his irises.

“I think you’ve heard perfectly clear, little bird. I plan to propose to you this fortnight. I already have your mother’s blessing.”

The crow cawed loudly.

You felt like puking.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You squeaked, hating how shaky your legs felt as you forcibly ripped his hands from your body. Your heels clicked upon the marble, your dress whisking in the nightly summer breeze. Dodging through people, you made your way to the opposite side of the pavilion, trying to calm your nerves as much as you could.

“What the hell was that?” The irritated voice of your mother made you shrink down in stance, even though you were several inches taller.

“He disrespected me, I wasn’t going to stand by and let him insult me.” Your voice was uncharacteristically small– you blamed it on Shepherd.

“You will let him do as he pleases.” She snapped through gritted teeth. Your mouth opened slightly in shock, never before had she been so bluntly angered. It made frustrated tears well into your eyes.

“I won’t marry him.”

“That’s not your decision. It’s the clan’s, and they’ve already concluded their vote. You’re to be married at dawn. Betrothed.”

“No…” you whimpered, now wishing more than anything that you could run far away. Possibly sailing the seas by your lonesome, or climbing trees in the jungles, or hiking mountains larger than the skyline.

“Yes. Now go catch some air, gather yourself and come back a woman. Not some whimpering child.” With a small shove, she pushed you out of the pavilion and into the dark night.

With a cloudy brain, you began to walk down the stone path to the gardens, far from any lingering people. Here, the only sound was the croaking of frogs, scent of flowers, and singing of crickets.

As if a string was cut, your eyes began to water, tears falling freely down your cheeks in hot trails. Hastily, you wiped the droplets, approaching the briar of winter roses. The petals bloomed full year, having the resilience you only yearned of having.

Your fingertips brushed over the soft petals, hardly taking note to the small fluttering of wings upon the top of the briar, until the bird cooed as it fluttered down to your eye-line.

“At least I’ll have you, huh?”

You felt ridiculous talking to a crow, but the bird was the only one that did not shun you. It gave you time to be yourself, without protesting and interference.

With a hesitant hand, you reached for the bird, gently enough for it to know you didn’t mean any harm. When it made no move to fly away you brushed a hand to its feathers, watching with amusement as it cawed softly, before playfully nipping your finger.

“I wish I could fly away with you.” You whispered into the night air. Not noticing the man hidden in the shadows, watching on with a curious spark in his eye.

Finally. You were here.

“Then why don’t you.” His deep voice cut through the balmy night.

Chapter Two

[ninzied]

weeds

based on the prompt: a kiss on a falling tear. brownstone/bonus chapter era. 600 word ficlet.

Henry has been surrounded by flowers all his life.

Flowers in every hallway and room. Atop every table and flanking every door that led to yet more hallways, yet more rooms. Flowers that were fussed over, flowers that were arranged to perfection despite being replaced at least once a day. Flowers in the palace gardens where Henry used to escape as a child, wishing the mazes could swallow him whole.

Flowers at the funeral.

Flowers at the royal wedding, when his life jump-started again.

And now, flowers in the brownstone that Alex has just moved into with him. They’re daisies in an assortment of colors. Nothing extraordinary, though they would’ve turned heads at the palace for that very reason alone. Henry’s pretty sure they’re classified as weeds, technically speaking.

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

That is, apart from the man who’s just brought them home on a whim, who’s now calling to Henry over his shoulder, “Babe, do you think these would look good in a mug?”

Henry thinks he would love them anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever he can. This little life he’s building with Alex is the brightest, fullest, most incredible thing, and he will not take a single bit of it for granted.

.

They go to the MoMA. It’s the first touristy thing that they’ve done since moving in together. And, Henry realizes, watching Alex tear through his wardrobe looking for the perfect cover, it’s one of the first museums he’ll have been to during normal daylight hours.

Alex gleefully poses Henry in all the various hats that he owns. He makes a grave miscalculation when it comes to his black Stetson, which delays their leaving the house by many, many hours. Alex finally comes to the breathless conclusion that it would draw too much attention if Henry were to wear it outside.

(“Mm,” says Henry, still catching his breath back himself. “You can’t possibly mean from you, of course.”

“Definitely not,” Alex agrees, already moving to kiss him again.)

They walk hand-in-hand through the museum sometime even later, in baseball caps and soft t-shirts, and Henry can’t believe this gets to be his life now. They let themselves be jostled along with the crowds, Angus up ahead of them. He needn’t be; no one so much as looks at them twice.

Eventually, they wander their way up to the fifth level. They step into a room where Henry finds himself once again surrounded by flowers.

The largest painting occupies three panels, spanning a significant length of the room. Gran has taken great pride in the royal collection over the years, pieces the family could access in private whenever they so pleased. But there’s something about standing here, with Alex. Just two people, being in love while looking at art. Like it’s something extraordinary, this beautifully ordinary thing they can do.

“Huh,” Alex murmurs, reading the placard. “Took him twelve years to paint this.” He squeezes Henry’s hand, then adds almost offhandedly: “I think that’s about how long it took after seeing you in J14 for the first time. Getting to finally kiss you, I mean.”

Henry looks at Alex with a feeling much too big for words. He smiles, his chest aching with it. The feeling wells up, touching the edges of his vision until he sees in watercolor. “Darling,” he says. “Are you comparing our love story to a Monet?”

“Please.” Alex looks affronted. “This guy’s got nothing on us.”

It’s blasphemous, surely. But as Alex leans in, kissing away a tear on his cheek, Henry thinks he’s secretly rather inclined to agree.

also on ao3.

[artificial-transmutations]

Trophy Husband

"That's your boyfriend?" Charlie knew exactly where this was going. He had just shown Linda, a good friend of his, a picture of his boyfriend Theodore, and she already made 'the face'.

"But isn't he..." she began and trailed off, probably searching for a way to phrase it nicely.

Charlie could have helped her, as he knew exactly what she was going to say, but he let her suffer.

"... Perhaps a tiny bit older than you?"

It was true, and Charlie couldn't even be mad at Linda for pointing it out. He would probably have done so, too, if he were in her shoes. The fact was that Theodore was indeed older than Charlie, and not just a bit. With his forty-six years, he was more than twice as old as 21 year old Charlie, and could definitely pass as his father.

"I know."

Charlie knew it, and Linda knew it too. Even though Charlie loved Theodore dearly, he knew what people would think about them. People often assumed that an older man would take advantage of a younger one - that Charlie was kind of a trophy boyfriend for Theodore.

"But it's nothing weird. We're just in love, that's all."

Charlie could tell Linda was not convinced, but forced a smile and nodded, congratulating him on his new relationship.

Later, at dinner with his boyfriend, Charlie told Theodore about his encounter with Linda.

"You know, it's so weird to talk to my friends about us. They all assume that you are some kind of weirdo, or I am just a trophy boyfriend for you. Sometimes I hate that I'm so young compared to you." Charlie said, with a twinge of unhappiness.

Theodore smiled warmly and put his hand on Charlie's knee.

"Well, they couldn't be more wrong. I genuinely love you my dear. You're the only person that matters to me, and you always will be."

Charlie felt his heart melting, and he leaned over the table to kiss his boyfriend.

"Besides, what's wrong with being young? You're so energetic and good looking. Look at me, I have wrinkles already, and my hair is graying. I'm stuck in a boring dead-end office job, and I know that nobody would hire me anymore. I really do wish to be as young as you are again.", he adds with a tender smile.

"You shouldn't. Being young isn't so great. Nobody takes me seriously because I look like I just finished school. And talking about jobs: I can't find a good job either, because everyone is looking for the twenty year old with ten years of experience now. It's ridiculous. I wish I could just magically leave that all behind me and be as old as you. Then nobody would think of us as a weird couple."

After this heart-to-heart, both men grew silent.

Theodore felt weird. The conversation had a strange weight that still resonated between the two of them. Did he really look that old? He stood up and went over to the large mirror in his living room. Sure, he had some wrinkles, and his hair and beard were graying, but it wasn't so bad, right?

He went with his hand over his wrinkles and stretched his skin. Surprisingly enough, once he removed his hand, his skin stayed exactly like that - no more wrinkles, only firm skin. It gave his face a youthful impression he had long lost. It didn't stop there, though. Like a bushfire, the firm skin extended from the point where he touched it outward, quickly stretching out all the wrinkles in his face. The skin cleaned up in the process, as it stretched and firmed.

His hair, too, changed. All the little gray hairs that had appeared over the years returned to their original black color - a process most notably in his stubbly beard that grew more impressive by the minute before suddenly disappearing completely, leaving his chin clean-shaven.

As the transformation spread downward, Theodore hurried to get out of his shirt, to have a better look.

His belly that had turned slightly flabby shrank and became fitter, as did his ass. His biceps grew thicker and his pecs bigger, while his legs became more muscular. All the extra weight he had gained throughout the years seemed to simply melt away, as if he had spent the last decades in a strict fitness program.

Theodore regarded himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face. Not only did he look fitter, but also younger. His chest hair disappeared just like his beard hat, leaving behind only a muscular and young well-groomed chest worthy of a movie star. His trousers shortened and turned into a completely white pair of shorts, with a generous bulge growing in them. Theodore gave it a squeeze, amazed by the amount of cockmeat he had gained. He could feel himself getting hard just by looking at his reflection. Theodore's eyes turned a bright blue, and blonde dyed highlights appeared in his hair.

Theo shook his head and smirked. He was just looking awesome, as always. And also as always, he was feeling really horny!

He cupped his bulge as he turned around.

Charlie was watching from behind him in awe. What had just happened? He had watched Theodore transform into a young muscular bodybuilder. That couldn't be right!

Still, Charlie himself felt a weird tingling sensation in his body. Fine little hair grew all over him, itching as it did so. Charlie, too got rid of his shirt and pants, standing only in boxers, to watch what was going on. His chest was quickly filled with short brown hairs that continued down in a treasure trail to disappear into his boxers. Underneath the hair, however, his body firmed up considerably. He, too, grew fitter and more muscular than he had before, but it was a different kind of body from the one Theodo- wait, that felt wrong. Charlie frowned and tried the thought again. It was a different kind of body from the one Theo had. Better. It was a product of years of willpower and work, not the easily malleable flesh of youth. That was a body he had worked on for decades!

Charlie watched the hair on his chest turn gray, as he looked down on himself with his usual stern look. It was just his standard way of looking, a fact that made most of his subordinates feel uneasy. Being the CEO of a multi-million dollar company left hardly any time for smiling or all this nonsense. He had to exert authority at every time.

His hair became shorter, styled into a perfect and expensive cut, as their color turned the same silver as his body hair. He touched his face with his weathered, strong hands, feeling the wrinkles all the stress and years of his live have brought him. Sometimes, Charles asked himself if he was getting old. But no. With his 49 years, he was still perfectly in control. He had money, power and authority, and still a great body. And contrary to popular believe, money could buy happiness.

He looked over to his husband Theo, who was busy admiring himself in the mirror again. He was half his age, and dumb as a brick. He would never succeed in live, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was look good on Charles' side, keep his body in check and present his ass every time Charles' python, which was growing hard in the tight underwear that were once boxer shorts, needed release.

He didn't need to decide or think. Charles' was the one paying the bills and Charles' was the one in control here. Theo was just his trophy husband - and both were very happy with that.

Another request from a subscriber over at my riot page that they chose to make publicitly available. Enjoy!

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How JJK Characters Love (As Told By Tarot)

tags: gn!reader, tarot, headcanons a/n: it was only a matter of time i decided to drop another tarot headcanons post. the last one i did was in march, i think? and the last time i did one for jjk was way back in 2021. so i figured i might as well drop another one before the year ends for the nanami, toji, gojou, getou and choso hoes. deck: prisma visions tarot & true black tarot

kento

king of swords, the high priestess, ace of wands, ace of swords

is a love a feeling or love a choice? that's a loaded question with many a subjective answer. if one to ask kento, he would likely answer the latter. with an occupation as dangerous as his own, it has to be. choosing to be so intimate with another is a choice one cannot take lightly. he can say with confidence that loving is you is a choice he doesn't regret in the slightest. kento's love is one that is honest, decisive and a love that seeks to know every part of you. there's a soft innocence to his love as he seeks to be someone you see as more than just 'the boyfriend'. he's your friend, your lover and your peace just as you are to him. you're partners. there isn't more that he could ask for than that. just as he seeks to know the beautiful, ugly and unknown parts of your person, he will open the door to allow you to view those parts of himself as well. his is a love that is patient and everlasting.

toji

knight of wands, queen of wands, the sun, three of wands

to toji, you're his light. the gentle rays that kiss the earth at dawn and the warm caresses of heat that thaw ice. he's in awe in how you shine, in how the flowers bloom at your very step. fushiguro toji isn't a follower by nature. he leads and that's that. but he'd follow you out of the darkness that cloaks his life and into the luminescent world you wish to bring him into. love doesn't come easy to this man. whatever he wishes to hold close to his chest inevitably seems to be torn away from him by a force twice as strongー so he'll hold onto you that much tighter. his love can be rough from his scars and callouses, brash and clumsy from his words, but toji is a passionate lover all the same. moving forward and looking to the future is one of toji's best strengths; he looks to his future with you with warmth he hasn't felt in a long time.

satoru

the star, three of cups, the fool, eight of wands

there's an unspoken loneliness to being the strongest, to being the one everyone has come to expect the superb. it's not a surprise, it's the standard. as such, love like this is unexplored territory for the strongest sorcerer. love is vulnerability, love is embracing both the known and unknown factors and it's allowing yourself to be connected in a way he normally wouldn't. he doesn't have to be the gojou satoru the strongest with you and that fills him with more joy than he'd expect when this is the life that has been engraved into him the moment he opened those six eyes of his. let the chalices of love be raised; let the water in them spill over and spill over more onto the green earth in a raucous revel all can bear witness to. the string that connects you doesn't have to be red, satoru will paint it in your own colors as they keep you joined through the times good and bad. when he falls, he falls and he isn't scared of the drop. he knows he'll stick the landing.

suguru

seven of cups, ace of swords, nine of cups, five of wands

suguru has a dream. a grandiose dream that many may deem impossible but it is a dream that pierces the essence of his very being. and it's a world suguru wants you to be a part of. a utopia that you can live a precious life that isn't constantly under threat by the impure majority he seeks to rid the earth of. it doesn't matter if your ideals are in direct conflict with his ownー suguru would rather hurt you in the short term if it means giving you a beautiful future in the long. you're pure in his eyes, pure and precious and he will reshape the world into something fitting for someone such as yourself. you'll want for nothing with suguru, he's a generous lover. he seeks to spoil that who he loves and he's got the passion to back up his flowery words. your cup will never go empty, you'll never know hunger and danger is something that will never come to your person.

choso

page of chalices, six of swords, the empress, ace of pentacles

choso knows loss and has experienced tragedy first handー that loss is what taught him how to cherish what he has. there's nothing more important to him than family and you're part of his. his love is one that's quiet but it resonates through your entire being because it's all in the little details. off hand comments about things you like, the way your eyes linger on things you want. choso notices it all and acts accordingly. words aren't this man's forte, so he makes sure you know how he feels through all of his actions. choso loves freely and easily, giving every part of himself to you just as he does for anyone he cares about. he doesn't have much to give beyond himself and the small but precious family he has. you won't find a more dedicated lover than this one right here when he embarks on such a journey.

[muffinsin]

how feral do you think g!p sisters would be after being deprived of fucking their female lover?

All the work they had to do has them all pent up, they haven’t fucked their s/o for a few days cuz their mother had ordered them to do stuff ( maybe Bela doing paperwork for the wine business, Cassandra being ordered to do experiments with the Cadou and Daniela could be doing something, or idk you can pick)

Oh, very! ;) I’ll gladly get into it! Also, as I think these two work very well together, I’ll actually add a second request from my inbox to this one!👀

Let’s get into it!😚

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Bela

She is so pent up from the work, she yearns for your touch

Hours and hours of working, days even

Short breaks that she can only use to catch up on some sleep lest she wishes to pass out from exhaustion

Her cock aches with her insatiable desire to fuck you already. She wants nothing but to grab and spread you for her

Still, paperwork keeps piling

Wine business this, and wine business that

She is frustrated, and unhinged. She wants you, needs you, and can barely stop herself from dismissing all her thoughts in favor of devouring you

Alas, she becomes even more frustrated from her pent up arousal. She can’t even stroke herself in her constant state of being busy or tired!

This changes, when she sees a message from you pop up

Of course, she takes the little time it takes to check what it is. What if you are in trouble, after all?

Oh, yes, and you are. You are in a world of trouble

Having sent her a picture of yourself in your favorite dark red- her color, she minds- lingerie set, she feels hot already

She wants nothing but to grab you by it and bend you over

Not even could she wait and bother with pulling it off you, instead merely tug the underwear to the side to fuck you with it on

It is the second text, that has her cup her overly aching, hard cock through her dress

A video

A video of you in her bed, wearing the set and fingering yourself

She turns up the volume, and hears the moans and gasps falling from your lips. She hears the squelching wet sound of your pussy

At last, you pull your fingers out to show it in the video. She’s feral, and wants nothing but to lick those fingers clean and bury herself deep inside of you

It should be her that fucks you! Oh, and rest assured she will. You will not be able to walk for a decent amount of time when she is done with you

It is the last one, the text message, that makes her go overboard. Crazy. Uncaring of her work

“Come take care of me, Mommy😘”

Some, including Bela herself, like to say she is very work oriented. Nothing can make her set down her work if it is urgent

This is changed

Her paperwork abandoned, she stands from the desk quickly

You jump when she suddenly swarms above you, completely quiet in her approach until she grasps your wrists with one of hers and pulls them above your head

“You are being so naughty, little one”, she scolds

She has no time left for foreplay, instead swarms out of her dress fast and grabs you tight

She’s rough, by far rougher than normal

Quickly, you find yourself turned around, head against the sheets and arms stretched above you. Cunt dripping for her

Bela does not hesitate, instead pushes herself in fast and deep. She grips your hair and bites down on your neck as she thrusts fast

It has been too long since she has been inside of you

She snarls as she realizes you no longer smell of her cum inside of you or on you. Rest assured, the will fix this

With your blood smeared on her lips and her nipples hard, lean muscles exposed, she fucks you hard into the mattress

“Think twice before teasing me this way, you little brat”, she snarls, her fingers tightening their grip on your wrists

She brings you to orgasm fast, but is uncaring of it. No slowing down, no allowing you a breather

Her intention is to mark you once again, to shoot her cum inside of you and use you to let her stress out on you

Her tall frame behind you, her arm gripping you to pull you closer. She won’t allow herself to slip out of your drenched cunt

She will make you cum once, twice, three times, however long it takes to sate her. She is greedy for your reactions

Every little drop of her warm cum is shot inside of you

She wants you pumped full, reminded of your place beneath her with your legs spread

“You’ve made me abandon work, little one”, she breathes, pants. Her lips are parted, dripping your delicious blood

“Now you will make it up to me”

Even when it is done and she knows she must return to her work, she is not quite done with you

Gagged with her panties and cloth and sat in her lap, you will serve as her cock warmer until she finishes her tasks

Cassandra

Cassandra is a very sexual person. She gets so thirsty so fast, and is insatiable

Often, she will use you multiple times a day to relieve her aches. At other times, multiple times a week will do

None of this happens when she is tasked with handling the newest cadou candidates

Normally, she would love to be tasked to spend extra time in the basement. Thrilled, even

Yet it’s sweet torture now

The screams and whimpers around her turning her on to no end

The fear in the damp air tasting so well

The blood. Oh, Cassandra is hard and desperate to fuck you within a day

She wants to bring you there so badly, to chain you up and add your screams to the ones in the cellar

Alas, you’re a human. And not allowed in the dungeons. It’s a safety precaution

Oh, but how badly she wants you here, to fuck you right on the autopsy tables, to bite and slice and draw beautiful reactions from you

She tries her best to focus on her work, but she feels criminally deprived

She has jerked herself off countless times already, and yet it only fuels her obsession: she needs you, wrapped around her. She needs to tear your thighs apart and ramm deep inside of you

Cassandra wants you dripping for her

She is in the middle of waiting for the cadou to grow into another host, her hand wrapped around her large cock, when she sees a message pop up

A perfectly shaved eyebrow rises. A video, titled “For you, Miss”

Upon opening it, golden eyes widen

She strokes herself faster automatically as she watches you circle your clit and moan shamelessly, eyes set on the camera filming her

Her hips buck upwards automatically when your fingers slide down your spread your soaked pussy lips, granting her a view of your drenched pussy

She can practically feel it, and yearns to taste it again

Ah, but the cadou will surely take a while longer. What’s a little break? She is, however, sure to bring a few accessories on her way up

She smells and hears you before she even sees you, and it’s driving her insane

Who are you, to tempt a predator this way?

The door is ripped open and she is already on you, catching your wrists in one of her hands and catching the phone in the other.

You were about to make another video for her, it seems

“What can I do with you, pet…”, she draws out, eyes glistening dangerously

You’re naked below her, completely exposed

She has a few things in mind.

There is no more time to waste, she is by far too pent up on her arousal

Her cock twitches as she rips her dress easily, uncaring of the consequences. Cassandra had always been more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of person

She grips the thick rope she has brought from the basement and ties it around your wrists easily, then pushes them back above your head

Roughly, she grips your thighs and spreads them apart wide. She is hit with the scent of your arousal- it’s making her feel feral and wilder than she already does

Cassandra cannot help but lick over you once, twice, four, seven times, until her rough and strong tongue is coated entirely in your slick wetness

She doesn’t grant you an orgasm from her touch, not if you don’t scream and beg for her. You will regret tempting her this way

With her cock stroking against your pussy lips, she holds up the phone again

“Since you are such a fan of filthy videos, pet, allow me to make one for myself”, she whispers lowly. Her eyes glisten in the dim light of the room

On the video, you are groped and marked while she thrusts deep inside of you. She will add it to her collection for when she must work again

She relishes in your blush as she films, and crackles when she pulls out and films the visible stretch she has caused

“Silence, pet!”, she cusses at your begs and pleas. You will only talk when she allows it

Only screams and moans are what she wishes to hear from you now

She makes sure to get every angle in the video, every bit of you

Your neck after she drinks from you, your throat covered in hickeys and bites

Your chest marked up and your nipples sore and glistening with her spit. Your helpless cries when she flicks them and tugs when when you are overstimulated already

Your pussy close up, squelching when she thrusts in and out. Your cum and cream running down her tip when she pulls out of you

Your ass covered in hand prints and scratches

She is an artist, and you are her canvas

She doesn’t care about overstimulating you, Cassandra will take you until she is done with you and fucks you into exhaustion

Daniela

She’s not in a good mood

How dare Mother make her clean her own mess?! That’s why they had servants!

Why on earth was she tasked with cleaning the library of the blood?! She only had a little snack there!

And yes, perhaps this means blood all over the furniture and floor from when the maiden has been dragged, and some book covers Daniela touched. And the lights. And windows, and doors

But still! It’s taking her forever to clean!

Aside from this, Daniela always gets distracted reading some book. Smutty books

It’s unfair how painfully her cock aches as she reads

She even smears some precum all over her thin underwear!

She needs you!

And yet she is stuck cleaning the damn library when she shouldn’t have to

This all gets worse when she is in the middle of reading, her cock hard and grinding against some pillows she’s found, even through her clothing, and she sees a message from you

“Come here, my darling”

She blushes when she sees the pictures of you in green lingerie and blowing a kiss at the camera

Then, her grin turns into a gasp at the video attached to your text

Your back arched, moans rippling from your throat

Her pillow between your legs, being humped as you slide your wet cunt all over it

Immediately, her work is dismissed. Who cares about the stupid library anyway!

Daniela nearly crashes into you as she swarms and manifests again, her clothing abandoned on the floor, her cock drooling and rubbing against your thigh

Her lips crashed against yours, her tongue clashing with yours. She moans and hums loudly

Greedy hands grope each part of you as she inhales the scent of your wetness on her pillow

She drags her tongue against it and moans, but it simply isn’t enough

She needs a taste. And she needs it right from the source

Never has she been this feral for you

Daniela can’t think straight anymore. She just needs a taste of you, and she needs release!

You’re pushed down fast and rough by her, with her body on top of you pinning you down on the bed

She grinds herself against you, moaning hotly when her sensitive balls rub up against your stomach and more precum drools from her

The poor thing is so pent up and sensitive

“My love, what you do to me…”, she trails off

But, the time for words is over, even for the romantic redhead. It’s time for actions

Now she must get release, and give into her primal urges

Angling herself into a 69 position with her on top of you, she easily forces her cock inside your mouth and down your throat, moaning and whimpering in pleasure as she does

She’s eager, feral, and uncaring of anything but what she wants

She rips your green panties off with her teeth, spitting them aside uncaring of where they land. They’re not a concern of hers

Her warm, wet tongue brushes against your soaked slit, rough and eager. She needs to taste you so badly

She collects all your wetness eagerly, moaning and humming her approval. Her head spins

Her hips thrust as she fucks your face, her lips smudge against your pussy lips as she devours you

Petite hands grab onto your thighs, and manicured fingernails dig into your flesh. She needs you, and can’t stop

She has plenty cum to give you, so even when she cums down yours throat, she is long not done

Instead, she must feel herself inside of you once she’s had enough of your taste

Hold you close and smudge her lips against yours, bury herself deep in you

She wants to stay on top of you, to rail you hard and until she feels her cum drip out of you

[cowgurrrl]

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good. 

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session. 

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?" 

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles. 

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it. 

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..." 

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago. 

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy." 

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care." 

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it. 

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you. 

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there. 

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks. 

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint. 

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older. 

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike." 

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together." 

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought. 

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel." 

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious." 

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans. 

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.  

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then." 

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs. 

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it. 

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints. 

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting." 

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk. 

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face. 

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey." 

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes. 

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail. 

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push. 

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?" 

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight. 

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

The Heart is an Ocean (Dark!Aemond x reader/oc (titanic au!) PART 2

Darkish aemond x reader/oc (?) (TITANIC THEMED!)

Cool devider credits: its uhm me.

Tags: Au Aemond, criminal Aemond, angst and hurt titanic au aemond x oc aemond x you aemond x

🔷Summary: You attend the ship of dreams, the Balerion in hope of finding your match to enrichen your family. But fate is cruel for those who dream. And the Balerion might not even reach the harbor of Valyria.

🔷Author's note: ''WILL THIS BE THE MOVIE REWRITTEN'' ASHSHSHDH I WISH! NO, its so not the movie. I was planning on naming the ship ''Titanic'' but I could not do that, it felt so icky. Big fan of the movie, big fan of books, the boat in general, and big nerd of it all. I went with a copy of the boat, and named it the Balerion. The route was original from Belfast to America i think but it will be from Crownlands to Valyria.

🔷Wordcount:5000

Warnings can be found under here

🔷Warnings: blood, arranged marriages, smoking, cocaine, illegal drugsdealing, eventually...you know, and murder. (the you know refers to the well-known fate of the boat) Classism, violence (not aimed at OC) and darkish criminal ruthless aemond.

TAGLIST: @namelesslosers

The morning after the ship had set sail, you finally awoke after a terrible night of sleep. The bed had been new, unused before and comfortable but it did not meet your standards, you told yourself so at least. Anything to avoid the truth: You had nightmares that kept you awake. Worries and concerns.

Your father had died this year, and now you had to find a new husband to ensure your family’s fortune. Your mother had no regard or respect for age. It wouldn’t have married if she could marry you to a rich walking skeleton, she would have done it. 

Your maid, Esera arrived earlier that day, her face distraught as she greeted you with a curtsy. You smiled. Yes, the two of you were friends. But it was nice that someone, anyone, at least pretended you still mattered. That you still had some renown and worth. That you weren’t destined to fail, doomed to sink.

You allowed yourself to be bathed, dressed in a fine new silk gown and let her brush your hair. All while she kept looking as if someone had just stepped on her toes. ‘’You look more miserable than I feel,’’ You commented, sharp as a knife with a catish sly grin on your face. ‘’If it’s juicy gossip, you must share it with me.’’ 

Esera finally put down the brush after combing the same locks for ten long wasteful minutes. She nodded. You were never good at remembering and reading faces, but her spoke to you as a book. Whatever had happened, it was serious. You quickly gestured to the side of your bed, that she had made just earlier for you. You did not want her to faint. Thankful, she sat down.

‘’M’lady, it is such awful news.’’ She said, You nodded, already impatient to hear the truth and whatever scandal had unfolded among the passengers. She took a deep breath and when you read her eyes, even you, someone who has such difficulty reading people, could tell she was terrified. ‘’There is someone missing. A servant.’’ She announced. 

You heard the words back in your head. Missing? How could anyone go missing? Well, it was a large boat but still. ‘’I am not sure what you mean.’’ You said, convinced that it was just a lazy servant taking a nap somewhere he was not allowed to be to begin with.

She rattled on. ‘’A steward. They said his name was Erryk. Apparently, he never showed up for the morning shifts. His brother is inconsolable. He has a job below deck, he does something with the coal.’’ He likely made sure that the Balerion kept going steadily, picking up its ridiculous speed as the ship sailed around the seas.

You watched as Esera started pulling her nails, the color drained from her face. ‘’I am just so horrified, m’lady. And I already fear boats.’’ She sniffed. You couldn’t help but look around, unknown of what to do as your servant wept.  You patted her back once, twice, and after that, you gave up. 

Boats didn’t scare you. But the Balerion did. It was so massive, so huge, so endless without end or beginning that your brain didn’t know how to wrap itself around it. The idea that you were one step away from becoming a shark meal didn’t help either.

You removed some tears from your dress with a napkin, and sat back down in front of the vanity. You opened the drawer and fished out your favorite perfume. You applied a heavy amount of it, hoping to haunt whoever would come close to you for the rest of this day. ‘’Well, what can we do about it? The Balerion is a massive boat.’’ You weren’t going to make this a you-problem. You had enough you-problems.

Esera nodded. You had just put your perfume down, as the door of your cabin slammed open and your mother threw herself into the entrance, running at you with an impressive speed that both surprised you and terrified you.  ‘’My dear darling!’’ She giggled with delight. Until she saw your servant, sitting on your bed linen. She only had to click her fingers, and Esera left your room, looking possibly even worse than before. 

You raised a brow at your mother. ‘’Do what do I owe the pleasure?’’ Truth was, she was your mother and Lady Waters still. She paid for your cabin. But you don’t appreciate people entering without knocking. It is what separates the men from the animals, in your honest opinion.

She waved a paper in your face. Quite rude. You snatched it out of her hands, reading the paper with disinterest. It had the colors of the Velyaron line, likely an event organized by the ship itself. It was about a social gathering, a ball, happening a few days later. Your mother was like a pitbull. If she smelled an opportunity for you to get a husband, she bit and wouldn’t let go. ‘’I snatched this from the announcement board. There will be a grant ball. All noble ladies are invited, as are the gentlemen. It is the perfect opportunity for you to find a nice, rich husband.’’ She said, cupping your chin into her hands and looking at you as if you were going to solve all her problems. 

You tilted your head, already dreading this ball. ‘’Momma, I am not sure anyone on this ship is even interested in a marriage. I tried yesterday in the café and-’’ You were hushed as your mother sniffled your neck, oblivious to what you told her. Ignoring the truth, as always.

She looked disgusted, wiping away some perfume you had just applied. ‘’Why do you always apply so much perfume? You are a lady, not a whore. Begone with you. I must try to find a way to get you a gown for the ball.’’ She told you, ushering you out of your own rooms. 

‘’The red one?’’ It was your favorite one with red shiny stones. You looked amazing in it, and it was the gown you last wore when your father was still alive. A true precious gown, as silly as it may be.

Your mother shook her head. ‘’We sold the red one, dear.’’

You turned your head so fast, you were afraid that it would snap and roll off from your neck, to glare at her. You didn’t know that. She likely did it when you were packing for this horrendous journey on the seven hellish seas. ‘’It had to be done, Cristella! You aren’t married yet, which means more and more of our precious heirlooms will end up by some dirty peasant.’’ The local pawn shops, she meant. The idea that some peasant was now walking around in your gorgeous Visenya Dalararis gown, it hurted you. Deeply. 

You huffed, slamming the door behind you as you left your cabin. You could not give a rat’s ass about being a proper lady. At that moment, you didn’t want to care. But you still did. You cared. And you cared too much about that. Finding a husband was not an easy task. Tales of your fall to ruin had spread far and wide and the only men that would be interested in you, were likely living under a rock, or that old that their memory was failing them.

You had not your own life to think about. You had two sisters, and a mother, all depending on you to find a rich husband. You never thought you would be responsible for so many people, and you never knew how crushing the weight of being the carebringe was. It was enough to make you feel like you were sinking, alone at sea in the dark.

Your breath caught in your lungs, as you tried to make sense of a terrible situation. Either you would marry some fossil that was old enough to witness the first men come to Westeros, or you will fail and condemn your family to a life on the streets. You know your family. You would not make for good beggars. You would all starve, freeze, die. 

You would like to cry. You did force yourself, to let the tears come out. But stopped as you realized, no one cared about your tears anymore. Any gentleman knew of the bankruptcy. The only thing you had then, was your beauty. Your grace. And your pride. A single tear rolled down your left cheek, drawing the pattern of a splatter paint drop. They could take your money. And your dresses. But they could never take away your pride.

You gathered the courage, wiped at your cheek the tear with your gloves, and left your cabin to enter the one belonging to your sisters. As usual, Maelys was still in bed at this hour, glaring at you as she was reading a book. ‘’Good morning, sister.’’ She said, and you could hear she was not that pleased to see you. You greeted her with an uninterested wave.

Your other sister, Dysera was already up and dressed, smiling patiently at you, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. You weren’t good at reading people, but you knew Dy as your own pocket. Maybe because you two were much alike. And you knew at that moment, she was looking for trouble. Dismissive, you went to grab your coin purse. ‘’Where are you going?’’ She asked, her voice surprisingly light and eager.

You didn’t know where you were going, both in life and on the ship. Her question made you realize that and made you lash out. ‘’to have breakfast.’’ You told her and it was the truth. You were planning on getting a nice warm toasted loaf of bread and a baked egg for you, and you alone. Just eating in silence as the toast melted on your tongue, oh, the delight. No sisters were part of this fantasy and you intended to keep it that way. 

But your sister jumped at the idea of leaving the hellish cabin and you could not blame her for it. Well, maybe a little. ‘’I am coming with you!’ She said, delighted. You frowned. That was not the plan. ‘’Maybe I’ll find a husband there, before you do.’’ She started and laughed, but it hurt you that she dared to even say that. 

‘’Maybe you won’t,’’ you stepped closer and smiled, hiding your anger behind your catty smile and your beautiful eyelids. ‘’I heard men like women who can offer something. If they simply wanted comfort, they’d take a whore or a pet. Now, scurry off.’’ And that hurted her. She would never inherit anything. You would. You watched as her eyes filled with tears. 

You sighed as you walked away, leaving the cabin. You passed the sign. 192B. A insult. The B deck was all they could afford. A shame, truly. in more ways than one. You had enough of the day and it had just started. You needed a smoke, a drink, perhaps both at the same time. You laughed quietly in yourself as you left the deck, entering the main deck, where gentlemen and ladies alike were conversing, strolling and just enjoying the calm weather.

You decided to go to another café than the one your mother had rented for your speeddates. This one was called the Octopus and had a ugly sign outside of it, but you were hungry and too lazy to go look anywhere else. You sat down at a table and ordered your meal, waiting impatiently as the servants rushed around you, serving meals and taking orders from other customers.

You were tested. Some of these ‘’customers’’  didn’t even seem…Well, they sure smelled like they should be eating two decks below. Or not aboard a boat at all, truly. But in the docks. In a dark alley. They didn’t wear fancy gowns, suits with hats befitting the latest fashion, they smelled as if they hadn’t washed in centuries and had the manners of a barn animal. In truth it was all terribly unsetting and upsetting.

The staff did give you a glass of champagne prior, thank the seven gods. You had not much happening as a girl in a dark red coloured dress approached with lace covering her shoulders. Eyes turned as she entered, and you had to admit, that included yourself. She had white, gorgeous classic Valyrian hair, styled in a beautiful knot that clearly was defying gravity on its own. You were impressed.

Until you saw the hatred in her eyes when she finally found you sitting at the table. You ignored her at first, as any sane woman would. Whatever she had going on, it was not going to become your problem.

You waited for your pancakes, becoming more impatient and hungry as every moment passed. ‘’I was hoping I’d see you today.’’ You looked around, to see who had the audacity to attempt to make conversation while you were starving, angry, tired and seasick.

The girl stood in front of you, arms crossed like she had accomplished something. She had in fact, not accomplished anything. You were not impressed. You actually felt sorry for her. Whoever her parents were, they raised a true brat. ‘’And you are?’’ You asked, hiding a laugh.

She laughed as well but hers was fake and insincere.‘’Perhaps you know my sister. Beautiful, gorgeous, rich.’’ It all came back to you. That Baela girl that stole your man and insulted you. Yet you pretended you didn't know, just to get her angry. You pretend to think, sipping your champagne glass.

While you were sipping champagne, you faked a gasp, quickly putting your glass down and looked at the girl. ‘’Does she have an ego the size of Westeros and Essos combined and does she smell of desperation?” You sat down, your face calm and a cold mask as you grinned at the girl’s furious face. ‘’How lovely that your sister felt so scared that she sent you to find me.’’

The girl scoffed, laughing to avoid the fact that you did hurt her feelings. You saw through her as if she was made of glass, however. ‘’I assume you know who I am?’’ That was a bold statement. It took you five years to learn the name of your own handmaid. How in the seven hells were you supposed to know the name of any random passenger on this boat?

And aside that, you also…Well, you didn’t care. ‘’I am sorry, if I knew the name of every second class passenger, my head would explode.’’ You commented, sipping from your champagne when watching her become more and more furious. 

The woman gathered her courage, and her strength. ‘’I am Lady Rhaena Targaryen.’’ Ah. Your thoughts were whisked away to a wicked smile on pink soft lips, lips belonging to a certain smoking gentleman. His smile captivated you as you noticed your lips breaking into a smirk. Mr Targaryen did not seem to even be remotely like her. 

‘’And now the part where I am supposed to care who you are?’’ You rang out, dryly as you downed your entire glass in frustration. A targaryen girl, so stunning, so fierce, that was going to be a problem. She would steal all eligible bachelors from you, bleed them dry and have them ruined. You could not afford that. 

The girl leaned in and when she attempted to whisper something of a threat in your ear. ‘’You think you have won this, little Bastard. But you are not even close to tasting victory. Men want class, riches and fame. Your dowry is good enough to maybe buy cup of coffee.’’ She finished brutally. It got under your skin. It did. Because you knew, she was right. You waited for the waiter to bring you and Rhaena two fresh glasses of champagne, and accidentally emptied yours over her head. Furious and fuming, you left the cafe.

You had to get out of there. Fresh tears threatened to fall. To ruin everything you worked so hard for.

A voice called out to you, surprising you. ‘’Miss Waters!’’

Aemond Targaryen had followed you. He looked as handsome as ever, wearing a a suit unlike most of the gentlemen. He also had a plate of pancakes in his hands, offering it to you with an apologetic gentle smile. ‘’Pardon me, but you had forgotten your order.’’ You were amused, raising your brows at him.

‘’Is this how you hope to earn your money to provide for a wife, Mr Targaryen? 'By playing waiter?’’ It was a coy tease as brief as a wink. He took it well, smiling despite your insult.

‘’Why, I never would. Rest assured, my future wife can buy all the Seven Kingdoms and I still would be rich.’’ He was bragging, trying to impress you. You faked a subtle smile, keeping your eyes on him at all cost as you took a small elegant bite of the pancake he had brought you.

You brought your fingers to your chin, cleaning the corners of your mouth as Aemond watched, breathless. ‘’I believe we discussed what I thought of Cocky men.’’ You reminded him of that for your own sake.

Aemond gestured to the brim of the ship, inviting you over to watch the waves. You followed, but kept appropriate distance. ‘’This boat is ridiculous. Do the Velyarons need to compensate for something?’’ You remarked.

To your surprise, he laughed, briefly smirking too. ‘’I assure you, they do. I heard Lord Daemon and Lady Laena no longer share a room.’’ You loved scandalous gossip. And you loved that this was about the Mother of lady Baela. Seems that her parents aren’t as perfect as she pretends to be either.

You know Daemon is a known rag, often preferring to lay with younger ladies and that his bed has seen more women on it than a whorehouse. ‘’Why, whatever could be the reason?’’ You asked, your voice soft and innocent. Aemond tilted his head, his tongue briefly licking his lips clearly somewhere else.

He shook his head, his silver hair danced. ‘’But it is not appropriate for me, to discuss such vile rumors with a proper lady.’’ He said, reminding himself of his duties. He even stepped back to create more distance. And you found yourself stepping closer to him, almost dreading to be separated, drawn to him by a force beyond your understanding.

You sweetly lowered your eyes, your lips pouting. ‘’You are such a tease, Mr Targaryen.’’ But two could play that game. You would show him. ‘’May I ask you to accompany me to the better decks? I seem to have forgotten where my room is.’’ You replied, hooking your arms into his own. He seemed to smirk as you two strolled over the deck, and Aemond received a lot of angry, jealous glares. 

‘’So, tell me more about the drama.’’ You whispered in his ear as the two of you finally had found some shade under a big parasol. Aemond laughed and it sounded forced for a brief moment. 

You needed the information to make the campaign for Baela, Rhaena and possibly Laena impossible. They could not find a husband. Well, at least, not before you. ‘’Laena kicked Daemon out of their cabin. He was found in bed with another married woman, who was recently widowed.’’ Aemond tells you, his voice a seductive hushed whisper.

You covered your mouth with your free hand, faking disgust as you were possibly overjoyed. ‘’My!” You gasped, but you were delighted. ‘’Such vile things indeed.’’ He nodded.

Aemond nodded, agreeing with you, his disgust clearly readable from his face. He did not like Daemon. You could tell. ‘’I should not have told you. Now I have soiled your ears, dirtied your mind.’’ He was scolding himself.

You huffed, insulted at this. You were not a child. ‘’I assure you, I am quite capable of vile things myself.’’ You said, as you two made your way to the deck. You walked past the cafe, and multiple people including Rhaena took notice of you on the arm of Aemond Targaryen. You waved, smiling sweetly through the window as Rhaena almost choked on her drink, her sister Baela looked just as miserable.

To that, Aemond let out a delighted sigh. ‘’I shall spare no details. Daemon was found with not one, not two, but three whores in his bed.’’ That confused you. One whore had to be enough, surely.

You looked puzzled and Aemond knew, which is why he grinned, smirking brightly. ‘’Why does a man need three whores?’’ You asked, voicing your confusion. That sounded expensive too.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his breath hot in your neck as he whispered. ‘’Maybe to watch them play with one another?’’ He suggested, and you wondered quietly, briefly, for a mere moment, if Aemond would like the same. If he too, had vile thoughts. You quickly shook off those thoughts, scolding yourself for even having them.

You know Aemond meant the act. Yet you want to tease and know more. ‘’Play, what? Cards?’’ You asked, with an innocent smirk. Aemond opened and closed his mouth, reading you very well.

He grinned. ‘’Who is a tease again? You know much more than you pretend to know, Miss Waters.’’

You shrugged, and when you both were alone in a hallway on the deck, you briefly smiled at him, surprising him. ‘’I never said I didn’t, Mr Targaryen.’’ You waited for Aemond to walk around the corner, before you trapped him against the walls of the ship.

Aemond let out a surprised shriek, eying you with much desire and want as you held him into place. You were relieved there were no witnesses. You caressed his chest, searching for his cigarettes already. He acted fast, grabbing your hand and pinning you against the walls instead, smirking as he leaned in closer.

He cupped your chin with his fingers, grinning as you went speechless. ‘’You still owe me for the first one you stole.’’ He said, a smirk dancing on his lips. This man.

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach, as well as your own arousal. ‘’What will you do about that?’’ You asked, trying to sound careless and fearless.

But he could read you all too well, and smirked, bringing his lips closer to your own. ‘’I don’t know. You must be held accountable.’’ He said, as if he was thinking deeply. ‘’Yes, a nice punishment will do.’’ Punishment? You scoffed.

‘’Will you put me on your knee and spank me?’’ You asked, in anger. 

His answer surprised and shocked you. He simply leaned in closer, brushing with his nose against your own and touched your lips with his fingers. ‘’Maybe one day.’’ He whispered and you felt as if he made you and himself a promise.

You were speechless. ‘’For now, a nice evening out will do. I shall pay for dinner and we can talk about our mutual hate for the Velyaron family. How does that sound?’’ You could not be seen with another man. Not going out with him, at least.

‘’Mr Targaryen-’’ You started but Aemond silenced you by firmly putting you back against the wall, smirking as you briefly whimpered softly.

He whispered softly. ‘’Men want what other men have. Seeing you on my arm, it makes them wild. Just say yes, Love. What else do you have to do anyway?’’ He asked. 

‘’I,’’ You stuttered, shocked at the audacity and the brutality. How dare he? And yet, you liked it.

‘’Excellent.’’ Was all Aemond said, taking distance and folding his hands on his back. He gave a respectful bow but his smirk did not match that all. ‘’I shall pick you up, 8 o’clock sharp. And I will have something sent over to your cabin, you may wear it, if you like it.’’ He smirked, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your heart racing.

—

Aemond sat that afternoon, in his own cabin. He had placed his leather boots on the salontable, smoking a cigarette after escorting the Waters girl home. He pictured her shocked and flustered face when he offered to take her out again. Nothing came close to seeing that uncertainty. The same uncertainty he faced for years. It was justice. She starved him. He would only take revenge. It was fair. Needed, in a way.

Cregan finally entered the cabin, bringing a neat suit for Aemond. Aemond sized it up, inspecting it for any wrongs. ‘’You did well, picking this one. Miss Waters is a very picky bee.’’ He confided in his best friend. ‘’If as much as a single stitch is out of order, I may never hold her hand again.’’ He made his voice a soft dramatic whimper. Cregan laughed, and soon, Aemond joined.

‘’As if she even has a choice, soon.’’ Aemond commented. ‘’Once the Captain’s Ball takes place, I put her in a scandal, and she’ll have no choice but to consent to marry  me.’’ It was the perfect plan. He just had to act kind until the scandal. He wasn’t sure what scandal he would pull just yet. He would not force himself upon her. No, never. So, that meant, another, but maybe just as brutal and heartbreaking way to end her social society status. To take home the Queen and clear out the board, once and for all.

A rough, but eager voice ran out as Criston ran into the cabin, surprising Aemond. ‘’We might have a problem.’’ Criston said, and to Aemond’s displeasure, the man was covered in blood. Aemond raised a brow, removing both his boots from the table and jumped to his feet. What could have happened?

Cole smirked. ‘’You need to tie down that brat of yours soon. A man was dancing with her, moments after you had brought her to the cabin.’’ Aemond’s blood boiled. So, she was very well capable of making her way to the cabin alone. She played him. Again.

‘’What man?’’ Aemond responded, sweetly. ‘’And I assume there’s a marvelous reason why you are covered in blood?’’

—-

Aemond had never enjoyed being a killer. He was good at it, yes. But he never took pride or happiness from kills. Unless they were his enemies. Cole had shown Aemond a spare storage room, where the gentleman that had dared to dance with his Queen, was present. Tied up and gagged. The man in question was old, boring and would never statisfy the Waters girl. He knew it.

Aemond lowered his favorite knife against the throat of the man, forcing the man to gulp as he started to draw a thin line, causing blood to jump out of the wound. ‘’Why did you dance with Miss Waters?’’ He asked, his voice a low growl.

‘’She’s a lovely lass.’’ The man responded, as Cole had removed his gag. Aemond shared a brief glance with Cole. That was the weakest excuse he ever heard. Miss Waters was not a lovely lass, no, she was the Stranger reborn, he was certain of it.

‘’Hm,’’ Aemond said, tilting his head with a smile. ‘’You do understand she is bankrupt, yes? All the money she had, is invested in this trip.’’ He informed the man, hoping it would scare him off as a rat in the harbor.

And it did. He seemed utterly shocked at Aemond's words. Furious, even. ‘’She is? But I assumed…’’ Aemond’s interest finally peaked, and he grabbed the man by his hair, hissing in his face.

‘’What did you assume?’’

The man gulped. ‘’Jacaerys Velyaron was heard bragging about her. How he had her in his pocket. I assumed if Jace is interested….’’ The man fell silent once again. Aemond cursed, closing his eyes. Jace was Interested. ''Never mind, I shall focus on another lady instead.'' He promised Aemond.

Aemond scoffed, grinning madly. ''You already touched what belongs to me. You must pay for that.'' He said. ''You touched my Queen. You will die for that.''

The poor man did not intend to die for that, and tried to plead. ''She's of no use to me! You can have her! I am sure if-'' Aemond had heard enough. He grabbed the man by his throat, drove a knife into his stomach for a slow, painful dead and simply pulled the knife in, and out, watching flesh and blood pour out of the wound which each sweet pull. He imagined the reaction if Miss Waters was here to watch him.  

Soon, she too would be on her knees. As would the entire world. It would all be his for the taking. As it always should have been. Miss Waters was his, the world was his, and nothing would stand in his way. ‘’Make sure this mess gets cleaned up. And we need to think of a possible emergency plan for my new wife.’’ Aemond ordered his men. He had a lot to think about, and so little time. His wife was waiting for him soon, and he needed to charm her.

Cregan began with cutting the corpse loose from the chair. ‘’I mean, you can’t kidnap her, can you?’’ He offered, and it was a solid idea, had this been a novel. It was not a novel. He needed her consent, he needed her on her knees, begging him to marry her. A conquest without war is a boring conquest.

He did consider it, of course. But he does not want to pull that card, not yet. Not when he can make her fall in love with him naturally. ‘’I’ve considered it, but no. She must marry me first.’’ He said, avoiding Cole's judgemental glare. He always said that women were not property.

The Kingmaker began chopping the body into pieces. ‘’So that just means, beating the rich pretty boy and winning her heart first.’’ He summarized, dryly.

Aemond nodded, already feeling that he had failed miserably. ‘’Seems like it. I just don’t understand one thing: What does Jace even want with her?’’ He muttered. ‘’Well, I suppose we need to find out. And quickly. Because I am not letting that bastard get away again.’’

A UPDATE

WOW

eh bye xD

Thank you for reading as always:)

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 4

The girls refused to speak to you because of how you defended Buggy. They still thought he was rude and didn’t like him, and they didn’t understand why you’d defend him. They were also mad because not only did they have to clean the kitchen twice that night, but Miss Pins had them sort fabric scraps by color before organizing all the threads the same way over the last few weeks. The final act of punishment was organizing all the pins and needles by length and gauge. 

They didn’t think it was fair. 

Had you been in charge you would have dismissed them from their apprenticeships entirely. 

Yes, Buggy was loud, had been rude each visit to you and Miss Pins but he was a pirate and all the shop’s customers were pirates. A lot of them were rude to you and Miss Pins, some even threatening, but he was also becoming a repeat customer and overpaid you each time, and when you brought it to the attention of Miss Pins, she let you keep the extra amount because you took on helping him. 

Honestly, and you didn’t want to admit it to your boss just yet, but you liked Buggy. So far he hadn’t tried to flirt with you, act inappropriately, or threaten you. Countless others had since the day you started as an apprentice. Miss Pins was protective of her girls, having no problem pointing a gun at any pirate creeps should they make her apprentices uncomfortable. Buggy was loud, demanding, but he wasn’t a creep.

It had been a month since you last saw Buggy and you figured that you weren’t going to see him again. Why would he return to the shop after what the girls had said? You felt bad about it and wished you could have talked with him a bit more, but he took off so fast that you didn’t get a chance to. 

You still had his socks that you fixed for him and even secured him an extra pair. Maybe he’d stop by to pick them up? You weren’t going to hold out a lot of hope. No doubt he would be on his ship, sailing for treasure or adventure, forgetting about the incident a month ago. 

Hopefully.

The shop was closed for the evening but you were still working when you saw him again. You wanted to get extra work done before taking a few days for yourself to celebrate your birthday. The girls originally wanted to do something with you but now that they weren’t talking to you, you got to do whatever you wanted. 

You were going to go to a nearby lake and feed the ducks while enjoying a packed lunch. 

The pounding at the door startled you. You grabbed a broom to protect yourself as you approached it and looked through the peephole. You saw the bright red nose and immediately relaxed as you opened the door, smiling at him as he stood on the doorstep.

“We’re closed, you know.” You told him teasingly. “We’re not a clinic where you can stop by whenever you need me to fix something.”

He looked flustered as he tried to think of a response, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shop, closing the door behind him as you headed back to your work. He followed after you, looking around at the different bolts of fabric on shelves, the trays of thread, and several dresses that hung on a rack behind the counter. You took a seat and gestured to the other chair as you picked your sewing back up.

“You left your socks, you know.” You said as you passed the needle through the fabric. You were finishing up another dress for a customer, attaching the bodice and skirt together with piping along where the two pieces met. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back for them.”

Buggy sat down and crossed his arms, turning his attention to what you were doing. Your fingers were careful as you worked, your fingernails guiding along the piping to keep it in place as you sewed. He didn’t think you actually made things, just repaired them, so he watched you for a moment before responding.

“I had other socks.” He mumbled as you removed a pin and stuck it into your little pin cushion. “I… was going to come back.” He glanced up at your face, seeing the look of concentration, and looked back down at your work. “Why are you up so late?”

“Why are you at the shop late?” You countered as you stuck a pin in your mouth before repositioning the fabric. He hesitated and looked away. “Surely not for your socks, Buggy.”

“I… was out on a walk.” He replied as he clenched his jaw. “And I saw the light on and thought maybe you were being robbed.”

You took the pin out of your mouth and stuck it back through the layers of fabric. “And you knocked so kindly.”

“I don’t have-”

He stopped himself and took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. You were just teasing him, trying to rile him up, but there was no malice in your voice. He looked back at you and saw you were smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat and his face was warm. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I just wanted to stop by and… say hi. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, hello and good evening then.” You chuckled. “What would you have done if Miss Pins answered the door with her shotgun?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Buggy shot back. You looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Good evening, boss.” 

Buggy spun around, eyes wide, but you laughed. There was no one there. Oh, you were cruel. He turned back around and glared at you. You were still laughing as you set your sewing down. Buggy huffed and looked away from you with a glare on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You giggled as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “As for your question about why I’m up so late… My birthday is in two days so I want to get as much work done as possible so I can relax.”

“Oh, birthday?” He repeated. Girls liked getting gifts. Should he get you a gift? Why would he get you one? He looked back at you as you picked your sewing back up now that you had calmed down from laughing. What kind of gift would he get you if he was to get you something? He was a pirate, he could go find some treasure and give half to you, but would that be weird? Why was he even considering that?

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I’m going to go feed and watch the ducks and have lunch.”

“Ducks?” Buggy laughed. Ducks were not exciting, but if you liked them, he would take you all around to show you all the ducks in the world if you wanted. “Just duck watching, that’s it?”

“Yea.” You frowned when he laughed. It wasn’t really anything to laugh about. You didn’t need to do something exciting to enjoy yourself, just sitting and taking it easy was enough. “It’s something I like to do, Buggy.”

“It’s your birthday, though! You should be going out and doing something fun!” He said. “Drinking, having a party, something like that! Go on a raid or something!”

“I’m not a pirate, Buggy.” You reminded him as you looked back at your sewing. “I’d rather do something quiet.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched you with a frown. You lived in a town frequented by pirates, you had to be used to what they got up to, so why would you want to do something as boring as watching ducks? Maybe you were just never given the opportunity to do something fun. Buggy would change that.

“How about we-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because he saw you look up, eyes widening at something behind him. He wasn’t going to fall for that again so he rolled his eyes. “The old hag’s not there, so don’t try and trick me again.”

THWACK

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Miss Pins barked as she raised the broom up again. “Do you realize how late it is?!” 

Buggy fell out of the chair and dodged the blows from her broom. He almost made it to the door before she threw it at his feet, tripping him up as he scrambled. She stormed over to him and grabbed the door, pulling it open before pointing out. 

“It’s too late for you to be coming around!” She snapped as he hurried out the door, but not before he looked back at you for a split second. You were still in your chair, looking rather amused by the whole exchange. At least you weren’t frowning at him anymore. Maybe he could sneak back around for your birthday. He just needed to find out where the ducks would be.

Miss Pins slammed the door behind him before rounding on you. “Stop encouraging him!” 

“I haven’t done anything!” You exclaimed. “I’m just being nice to him!”

“That’s encouraging him! I don’t need another lovesick pirate after you, Sunny! He’s as bad as the last one!” Miss Pins snapped. “I can’t keep chasing these pirates off!”

“He’s not like the last one!” You shot back. “And he’s not lovesick, he just needs a friend, Miss Pins. It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him every time he sees me!”

Your boss glared at you as she locked the door and picked up the broom. The last one wasn’t like that until the fifth visit, where he had demanded you to marry him while you were fixing his coat. You were only 19, the man was almost ten years your senior and if your boss hadn’t been there, who knows where you would have ended up. She wasn’t going to lose you then to that man and she wasn’t about to lose you to some nobody pirate. 

“He’s not welcome here anymore.” Miss Pins told you. “And next time you see him you tell him that.”

She left after that, returning upstairs without another word, leaving you alone to think about what she said.

[morgansunflower]

You Deserve To Be Happy

Jason Todd X Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, injury, blood, crying, suggestive content.

Words:1429

Arthur's notes: Good mom Talia.

Damian tries to convince Jason that he needs and deserves to be reunited with Y/N. All while he tells Y/N a secret he's been keeping from her.

Damian only sees glass shards, he reaches out to the sky helplessly, never feeling quite a fear such as this. He hoped somehow someone would catch him. He thought he was strong enough to face Ra's alone...

Just as he feels that it would be his end. A arm catches him. The young man holds the injured Robin landing onto a roof top. He didn't have time to personally strangle Ra's for trying to kill his baby brother.

Damian is gently placed on the ground. He gasps seeing the face of his dear brother. It couldn't be him, he hadn't seen him in many months. He must be hallucinating.. Damian feels his eyes shaking as he had spent many days fearing his brother would never return.

Jason didn't say a word as he gently bandages his wounds from the glass shards. Jason tapped the emergency button on his utility belt. He moved to touch Damian's forehead to attempt to calm him down. His hand stopped hearing the bat-mobile. Damian gripped his wrist with what very little strength he had. Knowing well his brothers instincts were to flee.

Jason looks seeing his desperate pleading eyes for to him to stay with him. It broke him to leave him again. As much as he wanted to be there for him. He couldn't.. He can't. So much of his pain lingered and he could hardly even bear to think of seeing Bruce again.

"I'm sorry"

"NO!! NO!!" he begged now crying missing his brother

Jason shakes his head loosening Damian's grip on his wrist lowering it carefully on Damian's chest. He leaves Damian before their father arrives.

Bruce was grateful he was alone so no one would see the tears now falling down his face. All he knew was that Ra's had been in Gotham and now judging the fact his son needs help, he knew he had a altercation with Damian.

"shh it's ok you're safe now" he promised his crying son

Bruce used the spy-contacts inspecting Damian. He noticed the bandaging. Who helped him? Anyone amongst those of whom he trusted would not leave his side, unless they wished not to be seen.

Bruce lifts Damian into his arms he didn't know his son was searching with what only strength he had for the fallen Robin.

Jason heavily breathes in and then out. He was sitting on a cold concrete floor. His eyes glow bright green and flash back to their natural color. He was scared...

He still had so much built up rage. Though Bruce is Damian's father and.. He was his father at one point. He had tried to convince himself that forcing Bruce to kill Joker would prove to him that he cared enough for him to avenge his death.. When that didn't work, he disappeared... He came back to Gotham when he caught wind that Ra's was looking for Damian.

"I know you believe because your father spared Joker's life that your own life meant nothing to him. I almost killed Joker myself but.. it would only be more blood and it wouldn't have brought you back. Losing you nearly killed him. He continues to suffer every day" Talia had said to him.

Talia left for a mission requested by her father and never returned.... Jason didn't think twice taking Damian with him. Damian met his father but Jason was long gone.

Jason tried to face Y/N but his heart became blanketed in fear. Would she even believe that it was, really him? He was scared somehow he'd hurt her again. She was the first person he remembered and the one who he would think about in his darkest moments.

....

Y/N walks into her kitchen for a late night snack she turned on the lights and yelps by the small person standing near her

"Damian! Must you startle me like that" she exclaimed.

"tt you need better locks.."

"yeah I do" she agreed annoyed "is there a reason why you've decided to sneak into my apartment unannounced?"

".. I have been keeping a secret from you.." he admitted partly because he did not know how to properly tell her everything.

"ok. Do you want some tea? We can make cookies? Then we can talk about whatever it is you want to tell me"

With their tea freshly made in their cups. Damian helps Y/N by stirring the batter. His eyes gaze to the fridge with pictures of Jason with her. He looked.. Happy. He could only remember him smiling a few times during his childhood...

Damian remembered looking through Jason's drawings as a young child. Most of them were of Y/N.. Damian had recognized her to be the person in his drawings. The first moment he met her.

He wanted to tell her about Jason just as he did his family but he knew Jason had made him promise not to. Though his loneliness was going on for far too long.

"Jason was your boyfriend?"

Her heart physically drops at the mention of his name. She cleared her throat taking a, sip of her tea.

"he uhu yeah" she bitterly smiled "he was a really great guy. He was my first boyfriend and probably my last, he was a lot like you. Loved Jane Austen, after he stole the book from me" she chuckled with a saddening smile

"Pride and Prejudice?"

She swallowed hardly her grief trying to force itself, in like a knife to her back "how.. How do you know?"

"he told me.."

Utter denial, and shock "Damian are you?..." she began to cry, her body shakes.

Damian nodded. He's alive. She began to lose her breath unable to calm down. He helps her sit on the chair, taking her tea from her hands and placed it onto the table. She knew Damian could be rude at times, but he would never lie to her. He really is alive.

"deep breaths" he said patting her back.

She listened to what he told her. She began taking deep breaths in and out repeatedly, eventually calming down enough to speak.

She holds his arms with her hands "H-how? His body.." she stuttered unable to allow the painful memory to unfold "where is he? Is he ok?"

Damian explained everything to her ending with "you may hate me if you wish for not telling you sooner"

"no! No! I could never hate you. It's ok" her lips tremble as she began to cry again "oh Jason" she cried

She covered her face in her hands as she sobs. Damian laid his head on her shoulder to comfort her.

....

Jason began stepping down the ladder into the underground bomb shelter to Gotham PD his current hideout.

"here to take my book, Twerp?" Jason asked his baby brother

Damian was infuriated Jason could always know when he was there just like Talia. He could never sneak up on either of them.

Jason turns the lights on seeing Damian standing a few feet away from him.

"I told Y/N"

Jason's heart beats rapidly "you did what?!"

"you are wrong not to tell her you're alive" Damian accused

"dammit kid. This is none of your business!" he snapped taking off his jacket.

"tt you are miserable which makes it my business!" Damian scoffed

"I'm fine" Jason lied bitter

"she misses you.. She wants to see you Jason.. She has not healed from losing you.. She wants to be with you and I will not stand by to allow you to give up"

He was right. The kid was right.

....

Jason rings the door bell holding flowers in his hand. She opens the door. She grips the door handle tightly bracing herself against the side of the door. So she wouldn't fall from her knees becoming weak.

Y/N knew he was alive but to see him.. To actually see his blue eyes that she had only been able to see in her brokenhearted memories.

"I couldn't remember what fl-fl--" he cleared his throat becoming emotional "flowers you like until I remembered.. I remembered us at the.. The fair and you.." his eyes start to shake

She wraps her arms around him letting herself break, but the best thing was that it was in his arms. She feels she can finally breathe.

Jason takes a deep breath as he began to cry. He had spent so many times thinking about this moment and fearing the worst. Though it was worth it. She was worth it..

The new couple knew Damian was so going to take credit for this...

Requested taglist@too-strong-to-losee @asrainterstellar

[starrbright]

Wade The Gallows

December 14. I was going through a lot this day and I had the beginning written down almost immediately. So, bear with me. Two cups of tall coffees for this, damn 🏃🏽‍♀️

800 words. angst. mentions of suicide. all my y/n are fat and of color.

passage above is from Morgan Matson's Amy and Roger's Epic Detour

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

"Hey." The softest of word one could merely utter gently to me and I'd be on my knees. A tug at my heart. I always believed that word is so gentle, well, mostly because I think it's a call for attention, but out of benignity. To pull you out of whatever you may be in but tenderly.

Whenever he says it, I melt. The word alone and from the man I let wield the power over me. I'm nothing. A breath of fresh air to me the second I feel I'm not of this world. That I live when I don't exist for a moment as I'm in his hold.

Such a word.

And the second he utters it twice, finally takes me back to present. The heaviness of his presence surrounds me. I wish it could always blanket me. Forever wash away what bites my being. Yet all is fleeting.

All the more reason for me to feel the shudder that crawls through my skin as his breath blows behind me, with his hands holding me close. To cherish the comfort of his concern through knowing silence before all is said.

"Speak to me." He says. Any other time, I would have been in his grasp to easily command, but of course--this is different. Still and always, with his hold on me, is what grounds me. "Please."

How could I have ever been so lucky?

How did it come to this anyways.

Suppose I have been too far in my head that I hadn't seen him seeing me, even as I stitch myself presentably, he can see all the threads behind in such a tangled and unfathomable mess.

I'm afraid there's nothing I could hide from him even if I want to.

And if there's anything I know truly, is that such blessings we could see surround us, must be honoured.

As his warmth surrounds me more, closing the distance behind us, coldness running over my body for a second from the sensation of being engulfed by his warmth. His arm squeezing me tightly against his chest as he feels it.

His face nestled in my neck, I welcome myself in his embrace, basking in the nothingness for what time could let me have, for as long as he let me.

And as I got myself out again, "Hey." He whispered, and I almost smiled and laughed.

I twined my hand on his where it lays on my stomach as I nuzzle my head against his chest. "Hi." Barely a whisper.

He squeezed my hand, holding me even more on him. "Hi." His hot breath almost could sedate me.

I don't speak after that but just remained loose in his grasp.

He keeps me together.

"Can I carry you to bed?" He asked. I wouldn't even have to answer.

There he kneels before me as I sit on the edge of his bed.

God, he has my heart.

"Forgive me..." I merely spoke, not meeting his eyes. Would it be bad if I hope he'd be angry? "Don't be mad." What a lie.

I'm not ready to see the hurt in his eyes. "I..I've been...thinking of killing myself lately a lot."

His hands holding mine turns tighter, I feel his gaze on me not breaking, nor even falter. "Will you look at me?"

It only takes once for me to listen to his.....plea.

It's not long to see the pain underneath him. How cruel do I have to be to feel solace in them.

Too much a human I have become.

It's only inevitable for him to blame himself but he figures maybe that would be selfish if he thought of himself first before you when it is you who has been hurting all along.

So he does what he think is best--to be there with you. As he always has been.

He doesn't speak, instead graced you with his lips on your knuckles, making each tender kiss last, never letting his eyes stray as he does.

There's something so to behold in the comfort we can offer with silence, taking a part of what breaks us, almost giving us a clean slate.

And I want to kill myself. I do. But I want to hear my brother's laugh more. I want to see my nephew and niece grow up. I want to see my friends more.

And I want to feel him more everyday. To hear my heart bang so loud in my chest as he slowly kiss all of my fingertips, each kiss so soft yet unyielding.

We're only human after all.

"Let me bathe you." He spoke after kissing your knuckles once again.

And there you were in the bathroom as he strips you off just after he drew you a bath.

There you were both under the water, laying against his chest as he's sitting back on the bathhub.

What more could I ask for as he hold my hands, flowing our fingers gently above the water, his face resting softly upon mine, with his heart beating against me, reminding me of my own.

A blessing of the many from being a human in this land.

"Will you let me?" He asks as he slowly free your hands to run them up slowly your arms. And you let out only the faintest of 'yes'.

I want to kill myself.

But I want to feel this more as he gives himself to me as I for him, each time.

[danikamariewrites]

Okay sweet!

I cannot get the idea of Elain with a "Scary Guard Dog" Girlfriend out of my head 😂 like an assassin or something (totally inspired by the tik toks)

I've just really been in an Elain mood lately

Scary Girlfriend Privileges

Elain x reader

A/n: I love Elain with scary guard dog gf that has heart eyes for her! I loved writing this and I love writing for Elain I wish more ppl apreciated her

Warnings:

You were one of Azriel’s spies but after an injury that took you far too long to recover from you decided to retire

But retirement didn’t sit well with you

You asked Rhys if there was literally anything else you could do a group you could join to serve the court with

That’s when he introduced you to Nesta who immediately took you in as a Valkyrie

You liked this group of females. They made you stronger and better

Plus it was nice to have friends that you could be close with

You had met most of the IC in the two months since you became a Valkyrie but you had yet to be introduced to the 2nd Archeron sister

You had seen her garden and heard the way everyone talked about her with love and kindness which made you very curious about her

Sitting in the kitchen of the House of Wind with Nesta, Gwyn, and Em you enjoy tea and gossip

You’ve loosened up since leaving the spy days behind. Learning not to be so serious all the time has been nice

Voices floated into the room from down the hall. One was Rhys but you couldn’t place the other female’s voice, Feyre maybe?

When the new guests came into view everything metered away and Elain seemed to glow brightest, like she was meant to be the center of attention

You froze staring at her with wide heart eyes

You were so distracted that when Rhys introduced her to you, you didn’t even hear anything

You just held your hand out and smiled like an idiot as her soft palm embraced yours

Gwyn and Em teased you endlessly about your crush on Elain

When you finally decided to do something about it it was months later

The two of you started hanging out casually just getting to know each other

One night Elain made the first move. She quickly leaned over on the couch and kissed you

When she drew back her face was nervous and unsure. You leaned forward, faces inches apart, whispering, “Can we do that again?”

You spent the rest of the night making out and even cuddled in her bed

Now you’ve been dating for well over a year and it’s hilarious to see you two next to each other

While she wears her pretty pink dresses (which you adore) you wear all black or other dark colors

Elain likes to take you shopping to see if you’ll get out of your comfort zone and you indulge her

She does like when you wear all black when you’re out and about. She’s noticed the oddest thing, people usually give you a wide berth on the street and in stores

Elain has watched males who seem to want to approach her think twice after spotting you and your unforgiving stare and run away

Even on the rare night out she only dances with friends. Strangers used to come up to her all the time which is why she avoided clubs

Elain loves that you’re like her guard dog

You’re mean to others but are a sweetheart to her

Never in a million years would she tell you to stop either

She’s never felt safer than with you. It’s like a new found freedom