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Hii, i just read all and i mean ALL of ur fics, but i saw you wrote for arcane women and was wondering if you could write headcanons abt them with a socially awkward/anxious reader?? If not thats A-Ok 👌 with me
Sure! How is everyone doing after the first three eps? I still haven't seen it but the edits I've seen... oh boy.
"I Got You." | Arcane Ladies Headcanons
╰┈➤ PLOT: How the ladies of Arcane(Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel) act with a socially awkward and/or anxious partner
╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Spoiler Free, On The Shorter Side, Cursing, Not Proofread
⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ
JINX
– At first, Jinx didn't get that you were socially awkward. She was used to people being awkward or even scared around her so she thought it was the same case with you until you two got closer.
– After knowing that your awkwardness was just you and not your fear of her, she observed you in social situations and noted what made you more anxious than normal.
– For example, she noticed you're more anxious and timid in bigger, louder spaces but if a space was quiet and quaint, you would be just fine so she often took you to quiet places for dates.
– If Jinx notices you're anxious in places you typically aren't, without a doubt she's removing you from the situation and taking you home where you can relax. No words, just grabs and tugs.
– She's tried the pep talk route before but it ended up in her rambling and somehow planning a terrorist scheme aloud... (yeah, a few patrons quickly left the area after hearing that), so she decided to scrap that idea altogether.
– At home though she would prepare what she calls, "A Safety Nest". It was a place in your shared space that had all your favorite things and trinkets, and she usually kept the space dimly lit and played your favorite music to calm you down.
– In social interactions where you take the lead in conversation, Jinx would quietly encourage you with big, almost alarming smiles and "gentle" pats on your back. Let's face it, Jinx can be socially awkward herself.
– Once the conversation concludes, she'll jump on you proudly, ruffle up your clothing, and pinch your cheeks endearingly all while calling you weird nicknames and quoting what you said while mimicking your tone and cadence.
––
VI
– Before you've had your first real conversation together, Vi could sense that you were an anxious individual.
– You fidgeted with your body while speaking, didn't hold eye contact long, and used a decent amount of filler words to casualize your sentences.
– She thought it was endearing to watch you act and move as if you thought no one truly cared about what you were saying or were afraid of boring others but you never bored her. She didn't think it was possible.
– You had tells and quips that revealed themselves with each conversation you two had. You showed more and more of your personality the more you got comfortable with her too. Vi loved it.
– When you spoke to her, especially when you went on tangents about things you were interested in, she always showed signs of active listening by nodding and asking follow-up questions. Even days later, she'll bring up the topic again to see if you have any updates.
– She made you feel seen and heard, something you've subconsciously craved. And when you went on your worry rambles, she consoled you and tried her best to stop you from spiraling.
– You thought about a lot of things and oftentimes about things no one else thought about. Vi thought your brain must've been exhausted with all the worries, doubts, and judgments that were usually wrapped up as others' but were truly your own; it was a lot for one person to handle so she strove to let you know that you were not alone.
– Is there a night you can't sleep because of your racing mind? Vi is there, holding you or reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. She can't sleep until you do anyway so why not speed the process along?
– You often had yourself stuck with your head stressing and worrying about multiple things at once and Vi was always there to bring you down to Earth.
__
CAITLYN
– Caitlyn's an encourager and a comforter with you.
– She's patient and silently allows you to take your time when gathering your thoughts midconversation but she'll also be the one to say, "It's okay, take your time," in the sweetest way possible.
– If there's an instance when you two are out and about and you really want something but are too scared to get it, she'll spring into action and get that thing for you. (Even if it was just a napkin).
– The only time she's frazzled socially is when you both are in an unfamiliar area and need to ask for directions. She'll stumble over her words and try to get someone's attention but they're moving too fast to hear her soft words.
– She'll get frustrated and you end up comforting her, but after a few backrubs, she's ready to try again. Her voice is strong and powerful, and people have no problem hearing her.
– You secretly thank whomever you have to for her determination but there was no way in hell you were going to walk up to a stranger and ask for directions like a tourist... which you were.
– Since Caitlyn's job has her socializing with a lot of people, she can get burnt out easily. Especially if work hasn't been going her way lately but even if she's burnt out and tired, if you seem to be more awkward or anxious than her, she's more than happy to step up socially.
– When you both have someplace to attend to or some event that holds significance, Caitlyn will not hesitate to stage a "social rehearsal" with you. She'll make flashcards of topics you could bring up, you'll both dress accordingly for the event in her living room, and she'll pretend to be an assortment of people so you can get used to different personalities all at once.
– It may seem like this is all for you, but honestly it helps her too. Sometimes she misses the personal cues of conversation leading the other to think she's a black-and-white thinking who has no time for pleasanties. Not true! She's very pleasant... sometimes she's just shy.
– Shyness is not a crime!
– After talking with the host and a few others she has to talk to due to her job, her social battery is depleted. She's extremely thankful you're able to recognize this and suggest leaving early. What would you two do without each other?
––
SEVIKA
– Oh, man. This lady found your awkwardness charming as hell.
– Your awkwardness was different than all the nerds and scaly-beings she's forced to be around. You were cute, looked perfect sitting next to her, and your awkwardness, as mentioned before, had a certain charming quality she can't quite place.
– She'll see you in your workplace trying to make casual conversation or small talk but none of your topics seemed to be landing. Your coworkers would give you a thin pressed-lips smile that she wanted to strike off of them to your attempts and then scoff at you behind your back.
– You were authentically yourself and those bastards didn't know what to do with it. They were scared, not her though.
– When you two got closer and comfortable enough with each other that you could tease one another or make playful jabs at the other's expense, no doubt she would tease you about your awkwardness.
– With those gorgeous eyes of yours, you would look everywhere else but her own, prompting her to say, "You know you can look me in the eyes, right? I won't bite", with the stupidest most shit-eating smirk on her face. And then when you look at her, a bit shocked and playfully annoyed, her smirk would only grow. "Unless you want me to."
– Sevika never made your awkwardness seem like a flaw. Your awkwardness came with you and she wanted all of you so she often encouraged your awkwardness.
– If she caught you trying to "reel" it in or realizing that you've talked for a few seconds too long, she'll playfully scold you and tell you to continue or to "let it out". Y'know. As someone who seethes dominance does.
– There would be an instance in which you go to Sevika asking for advice to be "less awkward" and her only response would be, "Why? I like your awkwardness, you don't need to change it. Anyone else who thinks otherwise is a sad loser and don't deserve to be in your life anyways."
– like damnnnn, okay!
– Safe to say you never asked her a question like that again.
--
MEL
– Mel understands your worries about what others think and the awkwardness that can come with it so she likes to help you in any way she can.
– If you're stressed about a council meeting and afraid of what everyone's going to think about the new perspective you'd like to bring to the table, she'll reassure you and tell you she's right by your side.
– If she can't physically with her hand on the small of your back, she give you nods of encouragement, raise her brows proudly, and look at you with that sense of pride and admiration in her golden eyes.
– After the meeting goes well, which she knew would, she'll congratulate you with your favorite drink and a night in doing all your favorite things.
– Even if there were parts in the meeting that were rocky, like the council people asking questions you weren't prepared for or getting rowdy, she'll say you did an excellent job and what you presented will help the people of Piltover.
– Oh, and don't think for a second that she wasn't sending glares and daggers to those who stirred up your anxiety even more. If looks could kill.
– Mel sees that sometimes your awkwardness and anxiety result in people-pleasing and she would shut that down real quick. She's fallen into that dangerous pool before and knows how hard it feels when you disappoint others and how much harder it is to get out of that mindset.
– She can get quite spirited with her encouragement...
– "Well, if they don't like it, that's on them! They don't know something good when they see it." "I've learned that hard way that you can't please everyone. You might as well say what you have to now. They can get over themselves later."
– It's actually quite attractive to see her stand up for you, even if she was standing up for the possibility.
– Always keeping her words in your mind, you find yourself navigating through life easier and you only have her to thank.
WC: 1,705
#pastel-peach-writes#pastel peach writes#gender-neutral terms#gender neutral terms#lesbian#arcane fanfiction#vi fanfic#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn fanfic#caitlyn kiramman#vi#vi x you#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x you#jinx x reader#jinx fanfic#jinx lol#jinx league of legends#jinx#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x you#mel x you#mel x reader#mel fanfic#arcane fanfic
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You've expressed how I watch movies (in a pretty pendantic way that sounds like it makes it hard to be a movie watching friend of yours), but I think that's only one way.
My wife is always asking me to tell her the things the movie is supposed to make you wonder and anticipate finding out. I absolutely hate spoilers and give answers as cagey as I can get away with, which drives her crazy too.
Some of it is not engaging fully with the story in the way that it's meant to be due to lack of practice of the skill, some because English is not her first language and she honestly misses important things so she's never fully sure if she missed something or it's something we haven't learned yet. But also I think there's a disconnect in our cultural approaches.
I watch movies by politely staying quiet and paying direct attention, but seeing her watch movies with her family, it's a much more participative and communal experience for them. You cheer when something good happens, you cringe when something bad happens, you discuss what's happening while it's happening and before it happens.
So sometimes she's asking me questions because she wants me to answer them, but I think sometimes she's asking questions because she wants the movie to answer them, and verbalizing those questions is how she expresses her engagement.
Remember: as satisfying as a good reveal is the first time, going back to find what you missed in previous viewings is a heartier overall experience. Some people just aren't wired for the hit of the pieces falling into place and just want to skip straight to sucking the dramatic irony marrow.
Side note: this aversion to sitting with the curiosity isn't as generational as the Netflix Effect theory would imply. My mother likes to read books by reading the first page, then the last page, then the first chapter, then the last chapter, and then if the ending seems satisfying, skipping around the middle until she's read it all. She hates waiting to find out the answers almost as much as my wife. And cozy mysteries are her favorite genre.
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could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)
The Realization
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?
word count: 9.7k
previous part • series masterlist
this is not a drill, it's really happening!
first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀
so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha
and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗
enjoy and I look forward to your comments!
It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.
And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.
In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.
You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.
Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.
And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.
When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?
Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.
And not just any college, but Citadel.
But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.
So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.
You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.
You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.
It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.
Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.
He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.
It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.
You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.
Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.
Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.
"So what are your plans for the weekend?"
Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.
"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.
"Huh? This weekend?"
"You forgot," he assures her.
"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.
"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."
Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.
"Do you want to come, Y/N?"
You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.
"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."
"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.
Poor Cregan.
"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"
"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.
"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."
"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."
"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.
You grimace slightly.
"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."
Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.
"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.
"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."
"Of course I worry about you."
"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.
"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."
"What?" she looks at him in horror.
"What you heard."
"And why me?"
"Because I always do."
Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.
So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.
You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.
Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.
You wish you were part of them.
You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.
When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.
He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.
You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.
First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.
Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.
Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.
Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.
“Can I come closer?”
You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.
You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.
You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.
Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.
“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”
You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.
“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”
Wait, what?
Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.
“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.
And Aemond lets out a long breath.
“I'm keeping my promise.”
His words echo steadily in your mind.
And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.
Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.
The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.
Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.
You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.
At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.
“I know I didn't do things the right way…
Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.
“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”
You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.
As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.
“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."
Fuck.
“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”
Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.
And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.
When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.
“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.
Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.
Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.
However, you know that won't fix anything.
You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.
You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.
So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.
With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.
Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.
Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.
It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.
Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.
You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.
It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.
However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.
In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.
The worst part is that you know why.
But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.
You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.
But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.
At the same time, prom is just around the corner.
At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.
You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.
Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?
The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.
And that's what you're doing now.
With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.
Helaena.
You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.
“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.
“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”
“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”
She looks at you a little unsure.
“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”
Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.
“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”
She nods as she takes a seat across from you.
“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”
This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.
How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?
The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.
“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”
You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.
“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”
You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.
“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.
You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.
“What?”
“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”
You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.
And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.
“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”
But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.
You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.
“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.
She nods, smiling softly.
“Easy, only I knew.“
“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.
“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”
“Oh, believe me I do.”
“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."
“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”
Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.
“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”
You remain silent, remembering those moments.
Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.
You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.
Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.
But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.
“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”
You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.
“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”
Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.
“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”
Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.
“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…��� she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”
Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.
“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.
You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.
You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.
But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.
Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.
“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”
The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.
“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….
“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”
You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.
“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”
“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”
“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”
Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.
“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.
She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”
She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.
“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”
“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.
“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”
You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.
“And you don't talk to her?”
“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”
Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.
Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.
“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”
She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.
“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.
You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.
“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”
“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”
You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”
“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”
“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.
Prom.
You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.
You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.
The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.
Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.
And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.
The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.
The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.
You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.
The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.
Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.
If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.
But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.
You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.
The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.
And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.
Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.
Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.
The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.
The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.
Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.
The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.
“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.
You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.
The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.
“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.
You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.
You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.
And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.
Great.
You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.
You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.
You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.
You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.
When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.
With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.
And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.
You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.
In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.
She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.
You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.
Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.
Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.
Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.
And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.
You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.
He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.
Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.
That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.
And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.
You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.
You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.
Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.
Oh God.
A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.
The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.
So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.
You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.
Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.
The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.
You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.
You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.
Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.
You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.
And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.
A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.
You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.
You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.
Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.
As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.
Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.
You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.
Until you sigh.
"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.
The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.
You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.
"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.
There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.
He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.
You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.
Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.
He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.
Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.
The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.
And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.
Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.
"You look beautiful."
He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.
You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.
"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."
He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.
"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.
The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.
"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.
He nods, not looking away.
"I didn't want it to be like that either."
His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.
You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.
His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.
Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."
The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.
Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.
"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.
The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.
The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.
Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.
His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.
And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.
"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.
His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.
For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.
You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.
Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.
"It's okay," you murmur.
He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.
"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.
You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.
He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.
Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.
You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.
You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.
The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.
Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.
Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.
You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.
This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.
"You've got everything ready to go to college?"
His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.
"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.
"What are you traveling there on?"
"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.
Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.
"I can take you."
You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.
"What?"
"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."
You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.
The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.
He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.
"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."
Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.
"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.
"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."
You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.
"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."
The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.
"No need to thanks."
Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.
You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.
"Are you ready?"
Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.
The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.
The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.
"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.
You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.
Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.
Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.
Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.
The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.
The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.
From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.
Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.
And he especially notices a change in your expression.
"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.
You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.
"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."
Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.
"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."
His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.
"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."
You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.
"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.
He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.
The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.
And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.
"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.
The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.
Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.
series taglist:
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#modern aemond#modern hotd#au modern#aemond one eye
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hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT
Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )
(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)
Knockin' On Heaven's Door
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(
word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)
side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!
You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.
Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.
It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.
And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.
There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.
Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.
So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.
"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"
That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.
Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.
The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.
The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.
"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"
He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!
The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."
"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.
Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!
You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.
Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.
"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"
You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.
"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.
It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.
In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.
So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.
It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.
"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.
It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.
You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.
God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.
It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.
"Bye, pretty"
He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.
Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.
Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.
The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.
But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.
"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.
"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.
"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"
He puts his helmet on, "Alright"
Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?
"Hey, what is your pro-"
Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.
It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.
Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?
The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.
You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.
"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.
"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.
You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".
The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.
"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".
He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:
"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.
So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.
You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.
You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.
But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.
Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.
Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.
So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.
Eddie's.
"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".
You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.
He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"
Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.
"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.
For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.
You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.
"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"
The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.
He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".
"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.
"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"
Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.
"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"
Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.
"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.
"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".
"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".
"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.
"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"
"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.
"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.
You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"
The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.
"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"
Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!
Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.
"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.
He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.
Would you help?
"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".
You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.
His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"
It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.
Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.
Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.
"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.
His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.
"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"
Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.
"Then you better show me what you mean"
You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.
His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.
"Don't stop" he huffs.
You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.
"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"
His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.
He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.
"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"
His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.
You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.
Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.
"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".
You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.
"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"
You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.
"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"
You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"
There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.
"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"
"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"
You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.
"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".
Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.
"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"
He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.
"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"
His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"
"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"
Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.
"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.
When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.
"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.
You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".
He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.
Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.
"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.
"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"
"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"
You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.
Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.
Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.
"Fuck"
As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.
"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"
How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?
"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"
"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"
#dilfistwrites#eddie brock#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x you#eddie brock fanart#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock smut#eddie brock fanfic#venom#venom movie#venom symbiote#venom smut#venom spoilers#venom 3#venom the last dance#marvel#marvel smut
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Sorry, I think I'm missing something - what is wrong with the Drizzt article? The article writer points out that the "exceptional Negro" trope is a BAD thing and that in context Drizzt reads more like a white guy trying to be an ally to vulnerable POC who've been burned before. Is it coming off in a different way I'm not getting?
The points in the article itself are fine! My personal issue- the thing that tugged at me a bit- You can't start your discussion with a line like "I don't think I've seen anyone address this specific flaw to supposedly progressive fantasy" when you're speaking on racism because... it makes you sound as though you've spent no time around the people who very much do speak on and have written about those things. I.e. the fans of color. And in this case, Black fans. Because I assure you, we speak about it! Especially if you're a fan of color in fantasy or sci fi spaces.
I'm sure that wasn't their intent, but it rang a warning bell to me that while they claim they don't want to speak over anyone, if they haven't seen these arguments and conversations before, they very well could be doing so anyway. I would hope in eight years they've grown better at finding examples of fans of color who do speak up.
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"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9
Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)
Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself
"I'm sorry."
Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"
"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.
"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"
He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."
"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"
"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"
"No."
"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"
"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."
Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"
"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"
"...Hmph."
A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.
"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"
"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"
"I..."
The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.
"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.
Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.
When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.
Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.
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I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.
#cookie run kingdom#burning spice cookie#golden cheese cookie#burningcheese#goldenspice#burning spice crk#golden cheese crk#merchant shorts
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Dumb/Bimbofication (Strade/MC)
one of my top kinks that i totally overthought and ruined for myself for like two weeks lol, but the purpose of this challenge is to NOT overthink. STUPID. dumb. why are you so dumb, huh? i know you like being dumb, but just try to think for even a second, okaaaaay? :3
day 30: dumb/bimbofication second person. cw for incredibly dubious consent. please actually go to college. or don’t. i’m not your dad.
"Ooh! You've got a student ID in here. What, trying to keep all those discounts even after you've graduated? You naughty thing."
You whimpered very quietly, your voice like the shivering mewl of a dying animal, as Strade sifted through your purse.
He tossed aside your personal effects flippantly, pocketing any cash you had stuffed between the folds (what little you did have), and flicked through your numerous credit and loyalty cards carelessly, covering the basement floor with remnants of the life you had before him.
If you could even call this a life.
"Nooo, hang on, this is pretty up to date," He then said after a beat, his features narrowing as he took a closer look at your ID, before his eyes went back up to yours, a dark brow raised in a silent question. "You haven't graduated yet?” He grimaced, but it was a sympathetic expression that didn’t suit him in the slighest. “Yeesh, you're a little too old to be at university anymore, aren't you?"
"I'm...a-a grad student," You murmured, idly licking your bloody lips (you refused to drink anything he had offered you and you were sorely regretting that decision now) and casting your gaze downwards, not wanting to look at him. "I...um, I teach sometimes, too…guest lectures, that sort of thing…"
"You're a teacher?" He asked, raising his brow.
"Teaching assistant," You corrected him, before looking back down. "Um...I'm...working on a PhD...in, um," You bit your lip, cringing slightly at the dramatic irony. "...Criminal psychology."
"Criminal-HAH!" He cut himself off with a hearty guffaw, a deeply indulgent smile spreading on his face, clearly thrilled by your discomfort. "Wow, what are the chances?! Hey," He sat forward with another laugh, pushing himself closer towards you. "If you survive this," If. "This'll be a great inclusion in your essay, won't it? They'll give you that fancy degree on the spot!"
Your lip trembled and you looked down again, trying to hold yourself together (trying not to burst into tears) and not think too much about the fact he said 'if you survive'.
If.
You'd read countless books, journals and articles about guys like Strade, the rare sadist (who were not so rare, with one in ten people identifying with sadistic traits, according to university study) who didn't channel his desires into relationships with vulnerable girls or tearing people apart online, but actually did something about it.
You should know how to deal with situations like this. And you did, on paper anyway.
Theory rarely worked as well, in real life, as they did on paper.
"Hmph," He chuckled, looking back down at the student ID before he tossed it aside (and even that stung a little). "I’m not being fair…it’s impressive, really! You must be pretty smart, huh?" His expression softened slightly, golden eyes sparkling with mirth, before he reached out and ran a hand through your hair. "How lucky for you...beautiful AND clever. Most people only get graced with one of those features, you know?"
You didn’t say anything, but you let your head follow his touch, a tear beading down your cheek.
You thought it best to play along, at least a little, and not piss him off anymore than you had to.
You did want to survive this, after all.
Strade let out a huff through his nose and gently (as gently as he could manage) brushed the tear away with his thumb, before his fingers wrapped around your chin and he forced you to look up at him again.
"I don't think smarts are good for much, though," He said cryptically, canting his head to the side with a strange sort of smirk. "Not in a situation like yours."
He then pushed his free hand through your hair, and forcefully slammed your head back against the support beam you were propped up against.
"HNGH-!"
Without time to prepare or adjust, you could feel your eyes widen and bulge out your skull, straining against your fragile eyelids, and your teeth rattle (you even wondered if he’d knocked something loose with the force of the slam), and a wound opened on the back of your head, near instantly, weeping and red, blood running down the back of your neck.
"NGH, s-stop!" You yelped, planting bound up hands (flattened into parcel-tape wrapped mitts, so you could move but not much else) against his chest and trying to push him away.
He laughed callously as you struggled against him, but he stayed where he was, bringing his free hand up and tapping your forehead with a finger.
A condescending little gesture that made your insides twist uncomfortably.
"How about you stop thinking first?" He said.. "It's like I said already, fraulein, smarts aren't gonna help you, and smart people like you,” He tapped your forehead again. “You always think too much. So, stop using that thing in your head, hm?"
"Mmf," You sniffled, soft and pathetic sounding, from the pounding pain, even more tears running down your burning cheeks, as he shoved your head back against the support beam again, your head throbbing and oozing with blood the more he fucked with you. "Stop, please-"
"Come on, I alread told you what I want!" He said, somehow outraged, with a tut and a shake of his head. "Mein gott, it's really so easy. Just switch that brain off and focus on being...mm, cute, hm?” He smirked, clearly pleased with himself when your flushed cheeks flushed someohow darker. “After all, I don't think you're really cut out for this…ah, psychologist business, are you, fraulein?"
He reached out, running a finger down your face, before smirking and tilting his head.
"You know better than I do, you have to keep your emotions in check when you're dealing with criminals like me, sweetie. You need to stay calm if you want to think clearly. Didn't they teach you that in all those classes of yours?~"
He unexpectedly (totally expetedly, you were just too out of it to think right) slammed your head back into the beam, knocking your brain around even more, as another rivuloet of blood ran down the small of your back and trickled on the cement floor.
"Stop iiiit, stop thinking!" Strade teased, grinning lecherously, despite his evident frustration. as he leaned into you, bringing his mouth close to your ear. "Come ooon, you already know that you're not getting out of this, don't you? What are you clinging onto all those smarts for?” You felt the caress of his tongue run over the shell of your ear, and your grimace just set deeper. “You might even like dumbing down a little."
He snicked again, his tongue tracing the line of tears on your flushed cheek, as his fingers, sticky with the blood oozing from your head. trailed down your heaving chest.
"I know I'll like it, anyway."
"Hhhh," You let out a deep exhale when he finally let go of your hair, your head sinking down to your thighs, barely able to support yourself.
Your head was hurting so badly.
You just wanted to be left alone.
"Heh, good for you. You're pretty stubborn!" He said, like he was paying you a compliment, moving closer to your slumped form for a moment. "They teach you that in your fancy college? How to put up with torture, threats, rape, that sort of thing? Sounds like a class I'd like a whole lot…"
Strade pushed himself to his feet with a soft 'hup!', then, and paced over to his workbench, openinhg one of the drawers with a metallic clatter.
"Well, if you won't respond to violence...I think I know another way to, ah...turn your brain off, so to speak."
He rifled through the drawer for a moment before he produced what looked like a...egg vibrator.
Your head was still swimming from his pain, but your eyes widened, dreadfully wide (with dread being the operative word) and you forced yourself to sit up as he paced back towards you, smirking like a Devil at the clear fear in your expression.
"Ah, I know that look," He grinned as he took the knee in front of you again, moving his foot (the thick sole of his boot) over your ankle and pinning it still against the basement floor. “Mm, maybe they don’t prep you for rape, like I thought they did…might want to talk about that with those professors if you get out of this one, liebling~”
"Ngh, no, no-" You grimaced as his free hand forced your thighs to part.
"Now, I'm not usually one to do this sort of thing.” He started, like you hadn’t said a thing. “I've got a buddy who's way more into this stuff then I am, but, ah," He raised his eyes to yours, his expression giving away an eleation that made your stomach churn. "I'm getting the sense that a geek like you isn't so familiar with the more...intimate sides of things, hm? Sooo, maybe I should use that to my advantage?"
“Nononono,” You grit your teeth with erratic fear, trying to guard yourself with your taped up paws, but he was stronger than you (and not dazed out of his mind), and was able to overpower you with ease, pinning your hips backwards and forcing the egg into the gusset of your underwear. “No, Strade, please-!”
"And hey, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you’re not a total prude like I thought, but…no offence, but you don't seem to be a very popular kind of girl," He teased with a shit eating smirk. "With your head in the books all the time, I'm guessing you didn't have much time to be...social, huh?”
He kneeled between your spread legs then, forcing them to open to accommodate him and only pushing you more open.
“Well, no worries. I'll teach you how to have a good time...and turn off the brain for a few minutes, too."
“NGH!”
You took in a sharp inhale as the toy buzzed to life (where was he even hiding the remote?), the initial sensation unfamiliar and uncomfortable, especially when combined with your throbbing head.
"Mph, see, there we go," He muttered approvingly, his golden eyes focused on the way your face was twisting into a grimace, your legs trying to close around him as the buzzing continued, relentless, rubbing against parts of yourself that even you hadn’t touched. "Now, that's a better expression. You don't have to think about that big scary brain of yours, now, do you? You get to just...let yourself be dumb for a while."
His free hand let go of your thigh and gently brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, before cupping your cheek.
"Doesn't that feel better? Doesn’t it feel nice to be…away from whatever life you were living before?” He tilted his head, giving you a considered expression. “You don't have to think about those grades, those classes...all those books. Sounds like a real drag, doesn't it? You get to just enjoy the feeling for a little while, okay?"
"Okaaayyy..." You drawled, squeezing your eyes shut as your shaking hands sank down to your sides, the sensation from the buzzing toy simulationusaly overwhelming and...incredibly pleasurable.
You didn’t even know your body was capable of feeling like this.
When did other people learn about this?
"Heh, that's a good girl," Strade murmured with a filthy grin, leaning in closer to you, rubbing his thu,mb over your cheek. "That’s much better. Now, you get to just be a cute little thing for me, don’t you? You don't have to think about a thing. You don't get to worry about your studies, your job, your family...anything like that.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“You just focus on being...sweet, and pretty, and dumb. Can you do that for me? Hmmm?~"
"Uh huuuh," You breathed out, your tight expression relaxing a little as he used the egg to massage between your wet folds, teasing a node just above your dripping hole that made you see stars. "Oh, that's good...nhh..."
"Mhmm, see? You’re feeling good," Strade chuckled, taking in the sight of you with an indulgent sigh, indulging in the way your expression was slowly relaxing and transforming under his touch. "So good, you became a cute, little idiot for me without me even trying. Hah!”
He increased the intensity slightly, watching your expression intently.
“You're liking being a little puppet for me, aren't you? You enjoying this, even if you’re pretending otherwise. Hnn…” He grinned against your cheek, breathing you in. “You like it when I make you feel like this, all mindless and dumb for me? Come on, let me hear how much you like it."
"Oh, god-!" You gasped, pressing your sweaty, tear streaked face against his shoulder (leaving a wet print on his shirt as you did so).
He chuckled kindly, not seeming to mind, and placed a hand to the back of your head, forcing your face closer.
"That's it, baby doll," He cooed encouragingly, circling the tip of the egg in a tight little circle against your cunt. "Feels good, doesn’t it? Nice and intense? You don't have to use that head for a damn thing anymore. All those hours studying, thinking, trying to use that brain...well, it got you into some trouble all right, didn't it?” He pet your hair slowly, like he was petting an animal. “Don’t let yourself get upset again, though. It could have happened to anyone…you’re just lucky enough that it happened to you, aren’t you?”
"Mmhmm," You nodded (as best you could), biting your lip hard as you felt your brain (figuratively) start to slur in your aching, bleeding skull and…leak out of any available hole it could.
Maybe it would be better if you just submitted to him.
That's what all your classes told you to do, wasn't it? To...submit to what the criminal wanted, to play along, act dumb and pliant and easy, even if that meant losing yourself completely.
That had to be it.
"Good girl," He praised, his lips pressed against your ear again so you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Behaving so well, now, aren’t you? You just needed someone to help you feel good, and now…all those big thoughts you had before are just...slipping out of your head.”
“Mmhmm~”
“It's so much easier for someone like you, isn't it? Being a brainless, little doll? So easy to just listen to my every word and do exactly what I tell you? You can just...sit back and enjoy the feeling…you don't even have to think about it. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it, liebling?"
Yeah.
Submitting would be the smart thing to do.
"Hmph. So much for college, right?~"
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Anything with toji or megumi pls do ur magic specialty ✨
fushiguro megumi x afab reader.
author notes; all characters are aged up.
tw; omorashi.
★
"megumi..." you called low for help, as you had just painted your beautiful nails and well, your bladder didn't seem to mind much, begging for release. surely your best friend would help you in this situation.
the black-haired man looked at you as he closed the nail polish bottles and put them back, looking at you and hoping that you would make more than just half-desperate faces, because he needed words. "what?"
"need help." you maneuvered yourself onto your knees, biting your lip while pressing your thighs together. it was getting harder to hold than you thought at the beginning of everything.
"what for?" well, he would help you, he just needed to know what you needed, because you seemed very restless, blowing your nails to try to make them dry faster, but that would ruin the nail polish, wouldn't it?
"need- oh lord..." your face was on fire with the realization of what you'd asked him to do, you were intimate but speaking out loud wasn't as easy as you thought. "-i need to pee."
fushiguro needed a few minutes to process what you had asked, because he was a great best friend and would surely always be there to help you, but what exactly did you expect from him with this? because he didn't know if he could hide a ridiculously big erection by helping you pee, by seeing your
fuck.
"megumi!" you closed your eyes as you called softly, wriggling more and more, with the damp esmlate on your nails, trying not to soil your clothes or the bedclothes. "oh lord..."
he blinked a few times as he came back to earth, watching you try to get out of bed on your knees before there was an accident. well, it wasn't as if you didn't know, after drinking so much water, you'd been holding it in since early on, and was doing well, holding back when felt that it was going to leak or that you needed to go, he saw you stir several times.
"w-what do you need me to do?" he asked as he grabbed you by the arm, preventing you from getting out of bed. the ears are a little red.
you thought of many scenarios at once, the best was when he just helped you with the clothes and you did the rest, so it was chosen.
"j-just help me with my clothes." he let go of your arm so that you could come to him, hearing a loud gulp and looking at him.
it turns out that megumi was just imagining a lot of scenarios too, thankful that you couldn't read his mind. he's not a perv.
shaking his head to get it away when you stoped in front of him, taking your hands to the buttons of your shorts to open them and help you take them off. and this part was a bit difficult as he had to make you lie down and the position you were in seemed a little suggestive, even more so with your incessant whimpers.
"you're wet?" he looked at your panties with a big wet spot, your eyebrows arching in concern, had you really leaked at those times? "how long have you been holding it?"
your face suddenly turned red and you looked away, pressing your lips together as fushiguro tried his best to think of things, because he couldn't get hard right now, even if it was almost impossible. poor fushiguro.
"you've been holding it since early on, haven't you?" he asked almost in disbelief, bending down a little to pull you by the arms and help you up so that you could get out of bed and go to the bathroom. "why didn't you go before?"
not that he was complaining about being here now, because honestly, seeing you with your piss-soaked panties and your little red face was better than anything he had imagined.
"thought i could hold it longer..." you cringed nervously, but not too much because soon something leaked again and there you were. "megumi!-"
just a bit late, because soon you were pissing yourself and he couldn't do much about it, just watching the wet spot on your panties gradually increase each time the flow was released more, listening to your relieved sigh and seeing your body arched in relaxation, face red and looking so pleasurable. he could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants.
and you were so embarrassed, with face turned away so you wouldn't have to face him, you didn't needed to see to hear and know that the flow was wetting the bed and probably a bit of his clothes, taking hands to your intimacy with the intention of covering it.
but megumi pushed them away, his eyes on your soaked panties as he gasped quietly, daring to run his hands over your thighs and up a little further until he reached the hem of your panties, coming a little closer just to pull them up, hearing a moan from you. "ngh! megumi! "
he could see your messy folds against the wet fabric, he could see so it well, he could feel when he ran his hand over it.
megumi could so many things as he felt your piss diminishing little by little, now dripping against his fingers. moving away from you just a little, sighing, putting his wet hand on his clothed cock for a little relief.
damn, now he needs help.
i don't know anything, but a little birdie told me that megumi has a BIG pisskink... anyway, i still don't think i've done him justice, but one day we'll get there.
i received an ask and i wanted to try an idea so i took advantage of this pretty request, dunno if it's really valid as omo, but i don't think it's that far off so.. hope you like it <3
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Gatekeeping
I just got called a fake mecha fan for not knowing someone else's read of a show i haven't seen since 2012 because I don't know what the current head-canons are.
"You've only seen wfm/ac"
I got blocked before I could respond.
I wrote my design dissertation on the reaction of Japanese designers to Syd Mead's work on Turn A using Chocoate Shop HIGE FIX, using Mamoru Nagano's work on Brain Powered to establish Tomino's new direction on mechanical design and how out the other end we got King Gainer.
...I cited De:Vadasy, of all things, to contexturalize the difference between an Eva clone and the fact RahXephon *isn't* a clone because its riffing on Brave Raideen.
My first mecha show was Time Bokan in 1994.
Even in spite of that, my confidence still feels weirdly shaken.
It doesn't make any sense until I think about the emotional stuff.
Suddenly I'm a 14 year old kid again.
I got called annoying alot as a kid for my enthusiasm.
It doesn't feel very good.
I wish my brain wasn't like this.
e:
removed the name of the show from my post please do not hassle anybody over this, this is not a callout i made this post about my own emotions, and for no other purpose (hence why I used no media tags)
e:
having cooled off a the thing that upsets me the most is that i could have made a potential friend. i liked a few posts and even followed before i got blocked. i think that's what hurts the most. if you're out there somewhere and you read this, i don't think less of you. we all have shitty days and a tiny snapshot of a person is not representative of the whole. i hope you're doing okay.
#kinda ruined my night tbh#I didn't even like AC6#I was so disappointed with it#Also wfm's ending was a mess#I'm gonna go watch L-Gaim again#The plot sucks but I really love the robots
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Thanks for the tag @errruvande. Let's do this.
Fanfic writer interview
How many work do u have on AO3?
9
What's your total AO3 word count?
71 000+
Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes
Two of a kind (Sif x Loki)
Between a song and a book (Joshua Rosfield x reader)
A snowball fight (Joshua Rosfield x reader)
it has to be elves (Sif x Loki - gift exchange)
A momentous wedding
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always try to answer to comments. One: it feels good to see someone not only take time to read my story but also took the time to comment. Two: I love interacting with people and that could lead to fantastic exchange.
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
At the moment I'll say "The end of Gimli son of Gloin" but... it is a "normal" end for him so.... I am not sure. On the other hand, "Two of a kind" has a kinda open ending.... I wanted to write more but lost the muse. There is also another fic with a real angsty end but it is yet in the editing process. But I largely prefer happy ending.
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
I would say "Two of a kind" because it begins rather dark? So it'll be in contrast to the rest of the story.
Do you write crossovers?
Not at the moment. Never really cross my mind.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Ah. yes. Because I said it was a "finished" work (it was) but I didn't posted the whole story at once. I was new and I tried to explain as kindly as possible. But the reader just kept insulting me, even after I changed the status, saying they would contact AO3 because I was a lier and so on... It was unsettling to say the least.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
At the moment, there's no "smut" per say but "It has to be elves" is rated Mature. Because Sif and Loki can have it hot (hihihi).
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I am aware of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Same answer, not that I know of.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have a few co-ideas, and I would really like to try. So no. BUT most of my fanfics have been edited/corrected by others so there's always a bit of another author in there. so yes.
What's your all-time favorite ship?
I will say, because it is the purest for me and one I hold dear : Gimli x Galadriel.
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
I have a ton of WIP that are hoping I'll finish them. And I am not going to list them here, because there's just too many.
What are your writing strengths?
No ideas. I guess.... My characters emotions? The little details in a scene? difficult to say.
What are your writing weaknesses?
My lack of vocabulary. Either I write too much in block or it's telegraphic. I use far too many times the same words.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I think it's fun, as long as you let the reader a way to understand what is going on.
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
Maybe FFXIV. I really love the characters in this game. Or Dragon Age.
What's your favorite fic you've written?
Written and published : "Two of Kind" because it was my first long, multi-chapters fic that I published, and because I thought about putting Loki behind a wall of energy before the Dark World. I was so smug.
tagging without any pressure : @konartiste @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @sotwk @dilettantefeminist and @ass-deep-in-demons and whoever would like to share with us their AO3!
Fanfic writer interview
Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖
How many work do u have on AO3?
3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao
What's your total AO3 word count?
8 534
Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes
I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao
Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)
Night watch (Legolas x Reader)
Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)
One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)
Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)
Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)
Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)
TLK men's reaction on being pet named
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).
Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all
Do you write crossovers?
I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).
Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao
What's your all-time favorite ship?
Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
Now, that's the HARSH one lmao
I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲
What are your writing strengths?
Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?
What are your writing weaknesses?
I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.
And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader
What's your favorite fic you've written?
The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma
No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland
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now deeply curious after reading some comments on a related news article
(whether you get periods now or you got them 20 years ago...doesn't have to be current)
#idk if people will take to this poll but i'm so so curious#me personally...#i'm on birth control these days that largely stops my periods from happening (thank fuck)#and i tempt fate on the regular because i don't carry period products on me when i go out#i'll bring them with me if i'm going anywhere overnight#but out for the day? nope#it's not a smart choice because my periods do break through every so often and there's NO pattern#surprisingly it actually hasn't really bit me in the ass yet#i think when i had regular periods when i was younger then yeah i did experience this once or twice#thinking high school. definitely asked for help before#and i've offered help#anyway this is so deep in the tags i can now say#this article i read had people going i've menstruated for 30 years and never been caught out. it's YOUR responsibility to carry things on y#it's ridiculous to say that public facilities should carry them. that's learned hopelessness.#and i was like bitch what the fuck.#then of course there were the 'well if they're going to carry pads they need to carry condoms!!!'#or#'well if they're going to do that how about chocolate too?? what next??'#and there were 'if you know you're close carry products on you'#have you. never. in your life. been caught out.#AND OKAY. if you haven't. CAN YOU NOT IMAGINE THAT SCENARIO??? HELLO???#people have irregular cycles. people might unexpectedly need to change part way through a day.#sometimes periods fucking seem to stop and then hello they're back again a day later#sometimes you're at an age where they've stopped but then hello. months later it's back#sometimes YOU FORGET TO PUT PRODUCTS IN YOUR BAG. god forbid.#i'm so glad you've never had a problem. congratulations. good for you. but how about we fucking offer the help anyway. ffs
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TRICK OR TREEEEEAT 💕🎃💕🎃💕🎃
HELLO HI THANK YOU BELOVED! here is some KenBig that I don't think I've shared with you before? this is from my huge canon-compliant Big-centric fic (lovingly known as the pain and sadness compilation).
some context: Big and Ken slept together just once, a week or so before this snippet takes place, after Big found out about Kinn and Porsche at the diamond auction.
putting this one under a readmore because it's a lil nsfw 👀🫣
The next time it happens, Kinn is in the hospital because he took a bullet for Porsche.
Big, Ken, and Arm are tense the entire drive back to the compound. The adrenaline stays in Big’s system all the way home.
Ken breaks the silence as soon as they’re alone in their room.
“Are you okay? You seem—”
Big cuts him off by crashing their lips together. Ken makes a surprised sound but melts into the kiss, going immediately pliant under Big’s hands.
Big’s not sure why he does it. The adrenaline is dying in his blood and anger is replacing it, loud and hard and boiling.
Kinn took a bullet for Porsche.
Anger and passion are not such different emotions when you boil them down. It’s hard to see where one ends and the other begins.
He’s rough with Ken; gripping him hard enough to bruise, shoving him forcefully into the door, kissing him with too much teeth. His hand, tangled in Ken’s hair, pulls sharply, eliciting a noise that seems to be half wince and half moan. Ken doesn’t complain, pushing into Big’s touch, tilting his head to expose his neck for Big to wrap his fingers around.
Big obliges, holding tightly, feeling Ken’s pulse flutter under his fingertips as he leans in. As Ken’s teeth graze his lower lip, Big wonders if resentment has a taste.
This time, he flips Ken onto his front and fucks him into his mattress, rough and angry and hard. Ken writhes beneath him, taking it, arching and moaning and cursing in an incoherent mixture of English and Thai and Big, Big.
For the first time since Ken started disappearing on his days off, Big feels a flash of jealousy deep in his chest. Big’s fucking him hard enough to hurt, nails digging into his flesh, fingers curled threateningly around his neck, and Ken’s twisting desperately beneath him, begging him not to stop.
Like he’s done this a lot.
Like he likes it like this.
Who has he been running to? Who else has been taking this from him?
Big tightens his grip on Ken’s neck, pushing his head down into the pillow, and shifts up higher on his knees behind him. The new angle forces him deeper and Ken groans, the sound muffled by the bedsheets.
Big pulls out before he comes, shoving Ken roughly onto his back so that he can spill across his stomach. Ken stares up at him, panting, and takes care of himself, his own release combining with Big’s on the hard planes of his abs.
Big turns away as Ken catches his breath. He can't keep looking at him. Not like this. Not laying exhausted and fucked-out and sullied with the evidence of Big’s transgression.
He heads straight for the shower without looking back.
✨🔮 fic writer ask box trick-or-treat! 🔮✨
#djjdf rhys i had to go on a Mission to find kenbig i hadn't already shown you lmao#i hope you haven't read this already!#(if you have.. i found another one i don't think you've read before lmao so hmu)#ILY!#also. i wrote this a while ago now and it’s interesting cause like.#there’s nothing Wrong with it. i don’t dislike it. but i know i would write it better if i wrote it now. if that makes sense?#ask game#booksnchocolate#kenbig#darcey.fic#ask#trick or treat
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We literally have this QUEEN and you're all silent???🛐🛐
#i love her so much#tsuji aya#jjba fanart#jojos bizzare adventure fanart#jjba diu#неймовірні пригоди джоджо#цуджі ая#украрт#i really HATE taking pictures of traditional art omfg it's sucks#also i was very inspired to draw her after reading Walk With Me/Try Again fic so read it it's so cool!! (KAKYOIN PART 4 PROPAGANDA!!!)#if you think you've seen this before well you haven't
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cw stalking
☓☓☓ stalker!satoru likes exploiting his heightened senses to learn everything and anything he can about you. he doesn't even need to be in the fucking room to know that you're sitting with your thighs pressed together because you're still thinking about the letter he slipped under your door that morning.
the letter, in which he wrote the dirtiest details about yourself that not even you picked up on. like how when you're really horny you become restless and can't keep still for too long, or how when you cum your eyes squeeze shut and you almost look scared of the pleasure you're giving yourself. which he loves, because your fear is an aphrodisiac to him.
but you figure whoever it is that's stalking you is only stabbing a guess at what could be true. because there is no way he's someone you've fucked, because you don't fuck on a whim. the only other explanation you can come up with is that he's been in your home, either to install cameras or slip into the shadows late at night when you're touching yourself. which is a ridiculous thought, so he must be assuming.
until you come home from a particularly gruelling day to find a small box on your pillow.
it's black, and wrapped in a blue ribbon that looks hauntingly familiar to the shade of blue—you shake your head. with trembling hands you open the box to find three things. one of which is a baby blue vibrator, the same shade as the ribbon and a certain set of eyes you often think of when you touch yourself. you also find a smaller box with a note attached.
'a promise, until you trust me enough to replace it with the real thing, doll.' it reads, and doesn't make sense until you open the box and find a ring inside. expensive looking and glistening under the moonlight coming in through your window. it fits your ring finger perfectly when curiosity bests you and you slip it on. You should be panicked, locking your doors and calling the police but there's a horrible ache in your lower abdomen that has you awful restless, and you realise that perhaps your sweet-tongued stalker knows a little more about you than you do yourself.
weeks of gifts like this go by, from sex toys to expensive meal deliveries each night, you're starting to feel more like a sugar baby than a victim. and still, you haven't even given in to your stalker... you've been too scared to touch yourself, to put the box of toys he's gifted you to use, because each night as you fall asleep you dream of vile things done to you by a man you can't see the face of. you worry that if you give in, let him watch you fuck yourself stupid on the toys he brought you, you won't want to hate this. to hate the way he calls you his doll, like you're a toy to be played with, in a home he somehow has access to despite how many times you change the locks.
it's not until you're on a mission one day, alongside satoru gojo. you're in an awfully tight space together, stuck in an abandoned warehouse and boxed in by curses that you're sure he could handle in the blink of an eye if he wanted to. but you're here, pressed chest-to-chest and breathing in the scent of his sweat and cologne mixing together—sugar on his breath.
and you're just so needy, after weeks of denying yourself in hopes of boring your stalker away. you have to press your thighs together, satoru's hard abs against your stomach is too much: and the way he looks down at you, laboured breath and glossy lips parted... you have to look away. but when your gaze meets the ground, you catch a glimpse of something that you hadn't noticed before.
a ring on his finger, one that matches yours—hell, it even looks cut from the same gem.
and his voice is poison. "you've been hiding from me haven't you, my doll?"
#sorry accidentallly deleted#gojo smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo x y/n#satoru
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It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."
You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...
"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"
"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?
"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"
Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.
"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."
As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.
We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.
"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.
I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.
"Very good, one more time for me."
You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.
"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."
The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?
While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.
"I'm - I'm sorry?"
"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."
You stare at me. "Remove my - "
"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.
I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.
I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.
Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."
I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."
Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.
"And spread for us, please."
Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.
"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "
You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...
My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".
The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.
The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.
"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."
The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.
You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"
"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"
You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.
One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.
It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.
The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."
Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."
"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.
You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...
The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.
You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.
"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."
Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.
"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."
#size difference#size k!nk#fr33use#mine#cnc k!nk#free use kink#free use slvt#medical play#cnc free use#rough cnc#rapedoll#rapekink#rapetoy#rough kink#r4pepl4y#r4p3 fantasy#r4ape kink#r4p3 kink#bimboification#dumb slvt#dumbification#needy wh0re#dumb wh0re#good slvt#fr33use slvt#size matters
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You belong to me
Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader
Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy
Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part
A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭
Akaza
Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?
Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.
How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.
"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.
Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.
Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.
"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.
"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.
"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.
"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.
Nakime
Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.
"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.
"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.
"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.
"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.
To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."
During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.
"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face
You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.
Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.
Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.
You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.
"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"
Kokushibo
His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.
Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.
"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.
He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.
"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.
Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.
His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.
You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.
You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.
He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.
"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.
"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"
Douma
His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.
You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.
You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.
You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.
Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.
"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.
"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.
"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.
"You belong to me and me alone~"
Muzan
2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.
You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.
Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.
The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.
"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.
"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.
"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.
It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.
"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.
"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.
"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.
"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.
"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.
He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"
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