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neptuneiris · 1 month

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could you pretend to be in love? (09/10)

The Consequences

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: things get complicated, you and Aemond's relationship ends and despite finding solutions, nothing can repair the damage to your ruined future.

word count: 8.3k

previous part • series masterlist

fortunately it didn't take me as long as last time and finally here it is hehe🙏😚

I really hope you like it a lot and remember that we're not far from the end, so I'm looking forward to your comments with your opinions. thank you very much for reading beautiful people!❤

You want to believe it's all a misunderstanding.

You couldn't sleep all night. Anxiety and worry consumed you like never before, waiting and checking your mail every moment hoping to see if anything would arrive, but nothing.

Your whole night was summed up in thinking about possible catastrophic scenarios, although they were not possible after all, since that is what is really going to happen because at this point there is nothing you can do because the college applications have already passed.

That's why you checked your email every moment, almost on the verge of tears, thinking about what the fuck you're going to do, how you're going to go to college and why Aemond didn't keep his end of the deal.

There was the urge to text him and even call him in all your desperation and confusion, ask him what happened, but you decided to wait until the next morning to ask him in person to get clear answers.

And that's what you're going to do now.

You don't even know if you are right but there is no other explanation when things are too clear. And you can't help but feel the pain of betrayal burning in your chest, with the anxiety consuming you and the need.

You finally arrive at the school, where without thinking of absolutely nothing, you start searching for Aemond through all the hallways, with determination and rage mixed inside you.

Your eyes frantically search through all the students as you walk quickly and make your way through them all, ignoring their stares at you as you don't care at the moment, you have a goal in mind.

And along with that goal and what you have to do now, still your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more painful and confusing than the last.

After all the moments you both spent together, both real and pretend, every laugh, every gesture, every kiss, it all seemed so real and so genuine.

But now… it all felt like a cruel illusion.

And to have to accompany it all with this, it's just unbelievable.

You finally see him in the distance, it's not hard to make out his distinctive silver hair, with his figure walking towards the doors leading to the huge backyard of the school, talking to some friends.

Anger and sadness intensify as you see him looking so calm, as if nothing is going on, made worse by the fact that he won't try to contact you either to let you know anything about the university, or even give you the news himself, anything.

You clench your fists and muster up all your courage before reaching for him, feeling completely hopeless.

“Aemond,” you call out to him, your voice tense and cutting.

He turns to you at the call of your voice, his expression changing from surprise to slight concern in an instant. His friends continue walking and he remains standing, as you walk towards him.

And you don't even give him time to speak, as you immediately raise your phone, showing him the college's Facebook ad on the screen.

“What is this?” you ask him, demanding explanations, confusion and pain reflecting in your eyes.

You feel your voice tremble, but you stand your ground, holding his gaze with a determination that belies your vulnerability.

He watches the screen and you see the worry spread further across his face, followed by a nervousness that runs through him from head to toe. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem caught in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a barely audible whisper, leaning toward you and with sorrow in his gaze, ”I-I didn't want you to find out like this.”

The knot in your stomach tightens even tighter as the worry and anxiety intensifies, watching him without understanding.

“And what does that mean?”

He looks to all sides, noticing the number of students surrounding you who begin to watch you both curiously, whispering amongst themselves.

“Come,” he says softly as he places a firm but careful hand on your shoulder and guides you into one of the empty classrooms, away from the stares.

You don't argue with him because you don't want to draw attention to yourself either, but as soon as he closes the door behind you, you feel the pressure in your chest intensify and you immediately turn to him, the need for answers burning inside you.

“You didn't talk to your grandsire or your sister?” you ask, your voice trembling between anger and the anxiety you're trying to contain.

He looks down for a moment, swallowing hard. His silence hangs heavy in the air before he looks up at you, his eyes showing a mixture of weariness and regret.

“Yes, with my grandsire,” he states to you, "But I'm still working on it," he confesses with his tone infused with a sincerity that hurts you more than you expected.

You feel your breath catch and you watch him in shock, with your lips parted and hopelessness all over your gaze, trying to process what he just said. The hopelessness is reflected in your gaze, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration that you struggle to hold back.

“What?” you manage to say, your voice cracking in disbelief.

He takes a step toward you, his eye fixed on yours as he tries to remain calm, though you can see the tension in the way his hands move, as if he's searching the air for the right words.

“Listen,” he begins, your tone softer and almost pleading, ”It's not entirely true that the whole admissions process is over. There are still… possibilities,” he says nervous, ”And I promise you that I've already sent all your documents to my grandsire. I just need a little more time to be able to convince him, and I will, I swear.”

He tries to convince you, observing you completely honest and sincere in what he is saying, but you no longer believe in him.

His words are like a desperate attempt to calm you down, to reassure you that everything will be okay. But distrust grows inside you with a sharp pain that spreads throughout your chest.

You watch him, looking for some sign to give you hope, some spark of certainty you can cling to. But all you see is uncertainty and nervousness, insecurity, because even he doesn't know if he will get you in.

You think about the announcement, how the university has already sent out all the emails, both acceptance and rejection. Then reality hits you like a slap in the face, and suddenly you understand.

“You… you got in?” you ask in a breathy whisper, though deep down you already know the answer.

He doesn't answer you right away, as instead of words, all you get is his look, a mixture of pity and embarrassment that only confirms it.

“Yes but you'll get in Y/N too,” he quickly insists, his voice desperate to convince you, ” You don't need to worry about anything.”

How easy it is to talk when he is the one who certainly should not worry about his future.

And finally the tears find their way, unable to control them any longer. You press your lips together tightly, trying to keep your composure, but the pain and frustration are too intense.

Aemond stirs restlessly, hating to see you cry. His hands tense, wanting to reach out and be able to hug you, but he restrains himself and watches you with concern.

“Y/N—

“ You don't even know if you'll be able to get me in too,” you interrupt him in a cold and distant voice, laden with bitterness with the feeling of betrayal and disappointment in your chest, “I trusted you, that's why I didn't apply to other colleges,” you look at him hurt and annoyed, “Now what am I supposed to do? The time for applications has already passed. I can't apply anywhere else because this, your promise, should have been settled long ago.”

Your words echo in the air, and the reality of the situation settles between the two of you like a barrier. He is affected by your words and falls silent, not knowing how to respond.

Worst of all, you know that he really wanted to help you, that his intentions were sincere, that's what you really want to think in the midst of all this.

But did he really want to help you in the first place?

If that was really his intention, then you wouldn't be in this position right now, in this situation that should never have been allowed. And you also remember Floris.

The tension is palpable and you feel the lump in your throat tighten even more and you look at him with pain.

“You used me,” you say with your voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his gaze full of despair.

“No, it wasn't like that,” he tries to correct with his pleading tone as he takes a step closer to you, “That was never my intention Y/N, you know that.”

You pull away from him, increasing the distance between the two of you, tears gathering more in your eyes and this time you make no effort to hold them back.

“I know because of what happened with Floris,” you say bitterly, ”And the worst thing is that I did like you.”

Your words leave him speechless for a moment, his expression marked by a mixture of regret and pain. He reaches out a hand toward you, as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you abruptly pull away.

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“There's nothing to explain,” you cut him off, unable to bear to listen to him any longer.

You feel something inside you crack and he seems to notice your change, to which he doesn't know what to do.

He tells you something else but you no longer listen. The broken promises, the destroyed trust, it all piles up on your shoulders, making you feel smaller and lonelier than you ever felt before.

The pain on his face is evident and when you finally decide to walk away, Aemond tries to stop you, tries to remedy the situation, but you don't even hear him anymore, you don't even see him, it's as if he is suddenly invisible and you leave him behind with pain and bitterness branded on your chest.

All because you realize that he, his promises, his words, were never worth it. And now you're paying the consequences of your future ruined by an absurd contract you should never have accepted in the first place.

You feel as if the world has fallen on top of you.

All the way home, you feel a mixture of intense emotions overflowing and the only way you can get them off your chest is to cry.

You are thankful that your father is still at work or else you would have had no idea how to explain your visibly pitiful state to him. Besides you don't even have the courage to really tell him what's going on.

But all is probably not lost.

Anxiety, despair and frustration wash over you as you sit in front of your laptop. But it also invades you and you cling to hope. You want, desire and yearn to find a solution, one last chance to not lose an academic year, so you open the browser.

Your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, as you search the admissions pages of other universities.

You visit one after another, hoping to find one that is still accepting applications, one that might have a deadline extension. But as you read and watch, that hope fades.

The words ‘admission perido has ended’ are repeated over and over again on every page you visit.

You try a small college in another city, then the only two available in your own city, but in all the answers are the same. Time has run out. The deadline has passed and there is no way to reverse it.

Frustrated, you hold your hands to your head, feeling the despair and anxiety growing inside you. And unable to help it, tears well up in your eyes and finally the situation crushes you.

With a loud sob escaping your lips, you collapse in your chair, feeling completely helpless, hopeless and like a fool.

You don't understand how you couldn't take precautions, have a backup plan B in case Aemond's plan failed, apply to even the city's public university, but none of that crossed your mind at all.

How are you going to explain this to your father? That you didn't apply to other colleges because you trusted a guy's word to get into Citadel in exchange for making his ex-girlfriend jealous?

Even the situation, thinking about what you were doing all that time instead of applying to other colleges makes you frustrated and angry at yourself for being such a fool.

And yet, you still hold on.

The next morning, your spirits still low, you head to the office of the school's coordinator, Mrs. Turner, with this last spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to resolve this with her help.

Mrs. Turner greets you with a friendly smile, though her face reflects some concern when she sees the expression on your face clearly tired from lack of sleep and swollen from all the crying you've done.

“Miss Y/N, what's wrong? Is everything all right?” he asks you, inviting you to sit down.

You waste no time and explain the situation to her. You decide to omit certain details, especially everything to do with Aemond and his promise. Instead, you opt to say that, due to a family problem, you missed the date for applying to colleges.

“Well, I understand that some universities do a second round of application, but you're mostly private universities in the city.”

“Only private here in the city?” you ask nervously and with a slight illusion.

“Yes,” he nods at you, “Maybe you could make an application for a scholarship.”

You bite your lip, feeling the frustration begin to take hold of you again and the illusion disappears.

You know that, while a scholarship might help you cover some of the costs, it won't be enough. You will only be offered a partial scholarship, and even then, the costs of a private university would be unaffordable for you and your father.

With the scholarship you had applied for at Citadel, you would have had most of your expenses covered, as long as you maintained a good grade point average. But you were rejected.

“No, I-I… I can't afford private college,” you admit as you look at her in desperation, ”Are you sure there's nothing you can do at the public university? Maybe send in a special request or something?”

She looks at you with some pity and disappointment.

“I'm sorry Y/N, but I'm afraid that's not the way things work,” she tells you in a soft voice, “Unfortunately, at most universities, once the admissions deadlines have closed, there's nothing we can do.”

You're not even surprised because you were definitely expecting something like this. Nor do you feel anything, just…emptiness and bitterness.

Mrs. Turner maintains her compassionate look as she continues to speak, trying to soften the impact of the situation on you.

“Y/N, I know this may seem discouraging, but I want you to know that all is not lost. Losing a year before entering college is not the end of the world,” she says in a reassuring tone, ”You can use this time to get a job, gain experience, and prepare an even stronger application for the next cycle. There's no rush, and many people find that taking a year off allows them to better focus on what they really want.”

But you know what you really want.

You want to study law, have a professional career, graduate and work at something you really like where you earn enough money to help your dad, give him a better life. That's what you want.

But you ruined it all by agreeing to a dumb contract, by believing his words and by not backing yourself.

You know her words are meant to calm you down, to offer you a positive outlook in the midst of the storm of emotions flooding through you. But, at this moment, these words offer you no comfort.

All you can think about is how your plan, your future, has crumbled in front of you.

You nod slowly, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for his attempt to help you. But inside, you feel misunderstood. You know Mrs. Turner only wants to help you, but the despair and fear of the future you now face keep you from seeing the bright side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” you say with an effort to keep your voice steady, ”I appreciate your advice.”

She gives you a warm, though still concerned, smile as you rise from your chair.

“If you need to talk more, or if there's anything I can help you with, feel free to come see me, okay?”

You nod once more, thanking her for her kindness and time before leaving the office.

Once outside, the hustle and bustle of students filling the halls of the school envelop you and you quickly make your way to your locker.

You open the door with automatic movements, barely aware of what you are doing as your thoughts invade you. With trembling hands, you put away the books and notebooks you won't need for the next few classes.

As you go through the motions, the pain and frustration begin to build. And when you least expect it, tears begin to slide down your cheeks silently.

You try to control yourself, pursing your lips and wiping your cheeks, but your emotions are too intense to be repressed. When suddenly, laughter reaches your ears.

You watch out of the corner of your eye and see Alys and her friends walking almost in front of you with mocking voices and laughter, full of undisguised contempt.

You have an idea what specifically amuses them about you, you know they must have sent you that picture of Aemond and Floris, but you also feel their laughter as a cruel mockery of your already desperate situation.

Still you can't help but feel embarrassed and angrily wipe away your tears with a sharp gesture.

Rage runs through your whole body, for everything. And your tears, though stopped for the moment, still threaten to return. You hurry to put everything away and slam the door shut to finally walk away.

You walk quickly down the hallway, wanting to get away from all the people, when as you turn down a corridor, you come face to face with Aemond, Aegon and his friends.

The impact is almost physical, but both you and they stop abruptly to avoid the blow. And as soon as you realize who you have in front of you, you freeze for an instant.

Just when your day couldn't get any worse.

Aemond, with his silver hair and imposing figure, is the first to notice you. His expression instantly changes from surprise to concern as he sees the traces of tears on your face.

And although he doesn't say anything right away, his gaze is intense, full of worry and guilt.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, because both you and he have no idea what to do, what to say or how to react. But you, feeling the pressure of the stares, feel trapped and instantly have the urge to walk away.

But first, Aemond takes a step towards you, trying to close the distance between the two of you and your eyes meet his, charged with a mixture of desperation and hope.

“Y/N,” he calls your name.

And before he can say anything else, you don't let him and quickly move away.

Desperation drives you to dodge him, also the fact that you can't stand to be in his presence, which you do but Aemond reacts immediately and follows you.

He calls your name with an urgency that makes his voice echo down the hallway, leaving his brother and his friends behind.

“Y/N, please stop, he needed to talk to you,” he urges you.

His hand reaches out to yours in an attempt to stop you but you continue walking quickly.

Maybe it's the look you both have or it's the unusual attitude you're both having around each other that starts to get people's attention. But you don't care since all you want at that precise moment is to get away from him.

“Please, Y/N.”

And then his hand takes yours, stopping you and you turn to him, your face flushed with tears and anger inside you.

“Let go of me,” you tell him in warning in a cold, cutting voice, ”I won't tell you again.”

The scene definitely draws more attention and some students begin to murmur and watch you both very intently, but the whole whirlwind of emotions makes you lose sight of the awkwardness of the situation.

You really don't want to deal with Aemond right now. In fact you don't even want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And Aemond seeing that, your attitude and coldness, the fact that you can't even stand to see him and the fact that you are being terribly honest, hurts him, really hurts him with a sharp pain in his chest, but he insists.

“Please, just for a few minutes. I need to explain—

Completely losing patience, showing the intensity of your pain and frustration, you release yourself from his grip in a sudden movement that draws more attention from the students and the situation becomes an unwanted show.

“Leave me alone,” you warn him through your teeth before turning and walking away with quick steps.

And thankfully he doesn't try to stop you again.

Everyone is looking at you and everyone is looking at Aemond as well, but you quickly find refuge away from all the stares, taking no notice.

However, you should have expected that little show to go around like plague throughout the school accompanied with the new rumor that Aemond Targaryen and his previously invisible girlfriend have broken up.

And honestly… you didn't even care.

To this point, technically he and you have ended whatever the two of you had, so you don't care to either affirm or deny it, you just don't make a big deal out of it and let people believe what they want.

Besides, how could you care when there are certainly more important things like thinking about your now ruined future?

News you have the confidence to share with Alysanne after all the drama involving you and Aemond, since you two are all anyone talks about in the entire school.

“That fucking idiot,” Alysanne mutters in disbelief, "Just when I thought what he did with Floris was so low but this… I mean, are you kidding me?" she stares at Cregan, incredulous, ”This is so much worse.”

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your forehead as you close your eyes and simply let your body try to relax. It's uncomfortable because of the hard metal beneath you as you lie on the bleachers but you still try.

“But he said he would try to fix it, didn't he?” asks Cregan in a cautious tone.

“And you believe him?” reproaches Alysanne incredulously, "I wouldn't and Y/N shouldn't either," she observes you, ”He had all this time to do something about it, even to be honest with you and tell you ahead of time that he wasn't going to succeed in helping you. Then you would have had a chance to apply to other colleges but no, he preferred to stay silent and enjoy the acting and all that it provoked in his stupid ex-girlfriends.”

And put like that… everything that happened sounds so much worse.

But you know she's right.

While the whole school is whispering about your ‘breakup’ with him, you can't help but feel that there are much more important things at stake, things that Aemond never understood or tried to understand.

And Alysanne seeing your expression and you basically not reacting because you're thinking about the future and how incredibly fucked up you must feel, lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you.

“I know it's a stupid question but are you okay?” she asks you in a warm and concerned tone.

You let out a sigh and take a moment before answering, not watching them and not taking your hand off your forehead.

“I don't know what to do,” you say in a low, emotionless tone.

Alysanne grimaces and looks at Cregan who also returns the same expression; they don't know what to do to make you feel better and relieve that huge weight you're carrying.

College is a big deal, both of them would also feel the same way if they were in your place, that's a fact. But by the same token they are not in your situation, they don't know what to do to cheer you up because, what could they possibly do to even help you? Nothing.

“I'm just thinking about how I'm going to tell my dad.”

You confess finally, withdrawing your hand from your forehead and fixing your eyes on the gray sky above you.

“I'll have to lie to him, tell him I applied but all the colleges rejected me,” you say regretfully, “Now I'm just left to look for a job and do that until I can apply next year.”

Alysanne and Cregan exchange a look.

“It's not a bad plan,” she tells you, trying to cheer you up, “In fact, a lot of people of our age don't go to college after graduation and do exactly that, get a job and apply until the next year or until they're sure of what they want to study.”

“Yeah,” Cregan agrees, "Besides, my family has several businesses in town, I could help you get a job at one of them.”

You can't help but place a small smile on your lips, seeing the willingness of both of them in wanting to support you, however, they can see the sadness all over your face and the discouragement you feel.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it,” you say genuinely, "And I know it's not a bad plan but…" you sigh, feeling the frustration and sadness swirl in your chest, ”I know my dad, and I know that, when I tell him that I wasn't accepted, he'll be supportive… but I also know that he'll be very disappointed.”

That's what weighs on you the most, far more than anything else, going over the whole Aemond thing and also over you, your dad.

He has sacrificed so much for you, working long hours at a job that doesn't give him what he truly deserves. He earns enough to support you and the house, he has always made sure you both have what you need; food on the table, clothes and basic comforts.

But he never buys anything for himself and his own dreams have always taken a back seat. All so he can give you a chance to do something else, have a better life and now…you feel like you've failed him.

Cregan and Alysanne watch you silently, their faces reflecting the gravity of your words. They know there is nothing they can say that will truly ease your pain, but you know they are both here, offering you their support.

“Well, I don't know your dad but still, he's your dad and he loves you,” Alysanne tells you in a warm tone, ”He knows you better than anyone and I'm sure all he'll want is for you to be okay.”

“And I'm sure he's seen how you've tried your best and you can't take the blame for something that was out of your hands.”

You understand what they both mean and you also ponder your dad's attitude in your mind briefly, but still, you can't help but place a small bitter smile.

“Actually it was my fault because it was my decision to trust Aemond, instead of making sure I had other options to prevent exactly this,” you say without emotion, “And I also feel that… not only it hurts me to have to tell my dad, but also to feel this disappointment,” you explain, “I really believed that I would go to Citadel and that my life was going to follow that path I had planned for a long time. But now… I feel like that dream has been taken away from me again.”

Alysanne looks at you sadly, understanding the weight of your words and she along with Cregan, no longer have any idea what to say to you. And you notice this, so you watch both of them trying to keep a genuine smile on your lips.

“You know? I really appreciate you both being here for me… I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you guys to talk to,” you tell them sincerely, ”But I think it needed some time alone.”

Alysanne looks at you uncertainly.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind, I can skip the next class to stay with you.”

“No, no, don't worry,” you hasten to say.

“I can stay too,” Cregan adds, shrugging.

“No guys, I don't want you to miss class for me, really,” you look at them sincerely, "I'll be fine, I just…" you let out a sigh, ”I need time alone.”

They both exchange a look and Cregan is the one who stands up first, stretching his arms out before looking at you with a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Fine but if you need anything, tell us,” he tells you with a soft voice and a warm gaze.

You nod in his direction.

“Yes, thank you,” you reply as you return a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Alysanne lingers a little longer, watching you with the same intensity as always, as if she wants to make sure you really will be okay before she leaves.

“I'll keep an eye out on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you tell her, feeling that simple gesture of support fill you with a strange mixture of relief and sadness.

She nods, smiling a little before walking away along with Cregan, leaving you alone on the bleachers.

And you stand there, thinking about everything and yet nothing, where you allow yourself to let out a long, heavy sigh. You look up at the sky, allowing thoughts to flow unrestricted.

The faint sounds around you envelop you, such as the soccer team boys training on the field and the entire cheerleading squad, as well as the faint, comforting sound of the leaves moving from the big trees along with the birds singing.

And even though you don't want to feel bad, the pain, the disappointment and the uncertainty about what will come next, it all hits you again in an unavoidable way.

And it all blends together in an emotional whirlwind that leaves you exhausted.

Time seems to stand still as you stand there, lost in thought. And you barely notice when someone approaches, as the sound of approaching footsteps barely registers in your consciousness.

And because you are absorbed in your thoughts, you only come out of your trance the moment a soft voice right next to you breaks the silence in your space.

“Hi Y/N.”

You raise your head almost immediately, definitely not expecting that and suddenly you see Floris standing next to you, watching you with a mixture of insecurity and regret.

You frown and look at her confused, not bothering to hide it, truly not understanding what she's doing here, talking to you.

And receiving no response from you, she looks down uncomfortably for a moment, fiddling with her hands as if searching for the right words before speaking.

And this is the first time you see her like this. You don't spend your time watching and analyzing her either but normally she always comes across as confident and sure of her whole persona, but now… you've never seen her so nervous.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now…” she admits with her voice barely a whisper, sitting down next to you on the bleacher, though she keeps an appropriate distance, ”But I really want to talk to you.”

'Talk?'

You repeat in your mind, still watching her without understanding and unable to help but feel a pang of bitterness at the memory of all that has happened.

The truth is you don't want to talk, you already feel frustrated and tired enough without now having to deal with this and especially with her.

But for some strange reason, you don't say anything, you just watch her, waiting, keeping calm, waiting for her to continue. She seems to hesitate for a moment, but then takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the horizon.

“I-I… after what happened in Dragonstone…” she begins to speak cautiously, ”Aemond decided to cut off all communication with me.”

That nonconformity and that little ache in your chest comes up as you hear her name and you too look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“He told me that what happened between us was a mistake and that you never deserved that,” she continues in a soft tone, ”I don't know if that gives you any kind of comfort, but I thought you should know.”

'Comfort?'

You don't know whether to laugh or cry but it's clear that none of this brings you comfort.

And she seems to be struggling with her own emotions, as you see out of the corner of your eye how her hands clench in her lap as if she's trying to control the trembling in them.

“And I'm not telling you this to justify myself, I know what happened at that party was a mistake,” she says emphatically, ”I shouldn't have gotten involved, let alone knowing that you were his girlfriend. That was…” she pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh, ”That was a big mistake on my part. I should have walked away from him the moment I met you, given you your place and respected you, but… I didn't.”

Her words fall heavy in the air and although part of you wants to lash out at her, another part of you feels so drained that you can't even find the energy to argue. Besides it's not just her… it's also Aemond.

“I was the one who was all the time looking for his attention at that party, you know? I was the one who had the intention of kissing him all that time, “she confesses, visibly embarrassed, ”I-I… I don't know, I felt so jealous when I came back and saw him with you. I-I guess I… still had feelings for him.”

You let out a long breath and finally speak bitterly.

“If he was the one who sent you to tell me all this to justify what he did and expect me to forgive him, it's not going to work Floris,” you warn her.

She shakes her head instantly, her eyes full of urgency.

“No, no,” she tells you immediately, ”He didn't send me to tell you anything, he doesn't even talk to me and barely notices me when we're in the same place. There's nothing really between us anymore Y/N,” she insists, ”It all ended when I left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say or what to really think, also not having the slightest idea what to do.

Even if all of this were true, everything she's telling you, you don't care anymore. All of this just comes with the part where Aemond didn't deliver what he promised you. All of this is just more accompanying pain, but what does it really matter?

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” she murmurs in your direction after you say nothing, “I know my words won't change anything and I'm not expecting you to forgive me… but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry.”

You remain silent, jaw clenched and gaze lowered, with the silence still heavy, dense.

Her words echo in your mind, mingling with everything else you've been carrying. But what are you supposed to feel? Relief? More pain? Or both? You don't know.

And resigned to the fact that she won't find some kind of reaction from you nor will you say anything to her, she lets out a last sigh, accepting your indifference without a problem.

“And I also wanted to tell you that…I know that Alys and her friends were the ones who sent you that picture,” she confesses to you and you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, ”And you don't have to worry about them spreading it all over school. I made sure that doesn't happen.”

The lump in your throat tightens. Though his words seek to offer you some sort of comfort, they do not soothe the wound that has already been inflicted. It doesn't change what happened, nor does it erase the humiliation you felt.

But even so, there is something in her tone, in the sincerity with which she speaks to you, that disarms you a little, if only for an instant.

Finally she stands up, feeling that there is nothing more to say. She throws you one last look, full of regret, before turning and starting to walk away.

And you don't stop her, as you have nothing to say, when suddenly, she stops after only a few steps and this catches your attention, so you look at her in confusion.

Floris, still with her back to you, seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether or not to say what has been on her mind. When finally, he turns to you again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you didn't expect.

“He really loves you, you know? Aemond.”

For the first time in the entire conversation you hold her gaze.

The sincerity in her eyes strikes you, but it's hard to believe those words after everything that's happened.

“When I came back from the exchange, something changed in him towards me. I don't know, he didn't see me the same way anymore,” she explains, "At first I didn't understand why, but when I met you, I knew," she confesses.

She pauses and seems to hesitate, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“The kiss…that kiss meant nothing to him, I know,” she finally confesses. “I saw him at Dragonstone, I saw how he looked at you… completely in love with you.”

You press your lips together and stare at a specific point, remembering those moments.

“And I also saw you completely in love with him too,” she admits in a soft voice, “I saw how you looked at him, with the same intensity with which he looked at you. And honestly… the two of you looked very happy together.”

This makes you feel exposed in a way you didn't expect, stirring a little in your seat, not knowing how to react.

The images of you and Aemond at Dragonstone, the times you spent together on the yacht, the hot tub, on the beach, in the castle and at the aquarium, when everything was fine and neither of you were faking it and it looked like everything was going to be just fine, all flashes through your mind.

“I saw all that, Y/N,” Floris continues, looking down in shame. “And that's why I accepted his decision to walk away from me. Because even though I didn't want to accept it at the time, I knew that what he felt for you was real. And what you felt for him was too.”

For a moment, you stare at her, not knowing how to respond or what to do, since you didn't expect to hear this either.

And you honestly can't deny the honesty in her words and in that it's probably true what she's saying, but you also can't ignore the pain that still burns inside you.

And so you simply nod slightly, as if you are accepting her confession even though you don't know what to do with it.

Floris looks at you one last time before turning completely around and continuing on her way, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the emotions you've been trying to contain.

You feel a surge of sadness mixed with a strange calm, as if there is nothing left to give. Everything that has happened between you, Aemond and Floris is still a complicated knot to untangle.

Now the silence that follows is heavy, but somehow, it also seems liberating.

Aemond POV.

With a folder in hand containing all the documents he needs and a determination all over his mind and posture, he barely observes all the people around him as he walks quickly through the hallways of the building, heading towards a specific office.

When he reaches the corresponding hallway, he slows his pace, cautiously observing his surroundings, making sure his grandsire is not nearby.

After so long keeping him waiting in the hope that he would do him the favor despite having already told him it would not be possible, he must have known that he will never really help him after all the favors he has done for him.

And that is precisely why Aemond has resorted to such measures.

But if his grandsire sees him here, he will immediately know what he wants to do and will not hesitate to kick him out of the building. That's why he has to be quick as the guards have seen him come in and so have all the people who work here.

And it's hard to go unnoticed when you have silver hair, which implies either that you work here or that you are the son, brother or nephew of the people who run the company.

So he quickly makes his way to the office, where he doesn't even knock on the door before entering, just walks in quickly to avoid being seen.

“Aemond?”

He looks at his sister and lets out a long breath watching her wearily, to walk over and take a seat in front of her.

“I'm sorry, my grandsire can't know I'm here or he'll kick me out,” he explains.

“Why? What happened?” she asks genuinely concerned, stopping what she was doing on her computer.

“Nothing, it's just…” he pauses as she brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration, ”I need you to do me a favor, Nyra. A big one.”

This gets her full attention and she nods slowly in his direction.

“What do you need?” she says to him with all disposition, watching him intently.

Your face, your words, all the moments that happened, whether good or bad, but most of all your hurt and broken face, the disappointment and how terribly sad you must have felt.

All of that is Aemond's drive to finally make things right and the things he should have done in the first place.

But it is not only that, it is also the fact that you no longer want to have anything to do with him, that you no longer want to be in the same place with him, that you can't stand his presence and that you don't answer any of his messages or calls, wanting to stop having any kind of contact with him.

All of that lets him know exactly how you felt about Floris and also about the fact that he didn't keep his promise.

And now he is willing to do anything, absolutely anything to be able to keep what he promised you. It doesn't matter if you still don't want to have anything to do with him, all he wants is for you to go to the college of your dreams.

But Rhaenyra's face after explaining and asking him for the favor, is exactly what he expected but he will still keep trying.

“You know I can't do something like that, Aemond.”

“You just don't have to say anything to him Rhae, please.”

She shakes her head.

“That's only worse. You know how hard it was for me to get him to agree to let me work here since dad died and I still have to put up with his bad treatment—

“Oh please, we all know it's only a matter of time before you and Daemon also get to run this company in addition to Driftmark and Harrenhal,” he interrupts her seriously, “You'll take my grandsire's job and send him to run only the Oldtown company.”

Rhaenyra remains serious for a moment, pursing her lips.

“It's the right thing to do and you know it. My father left this to me, to us,” she clarifies truthfully, ”And your grandfather took advantage to take it all and leave almost nothing to me.”

He lets out a long breath, bringing a hand to his chin.

“When you've finished your degree, you'll run Oldtown and if you want, we can spread out more locations,” she tells him in a soft tone, “Helaena can also run Highgarden and Aegon and Daeron can also help us if that's what they really want. That's what father wanted and I never once intended to take that away from you, your legacy, as your grandsire told you I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he tells her in a soft, sincere tone, understanding what she means.

The fight over the inheritance was always in the family ever since their father became ill. He never showed them love or even that he cared even a little for them, but at least he intended to leave them a large part of his legacy.

Neither he nor his siblings fought with Rhaenyra and Daemon for it, it was only their grandsire, who from the time they were all children put hatred towards them to her.

But eventually, both he and his siblings realized that Rhaenyra had other intentions and everything grandsire said was a lie. Rhaenyra didn't want to steal their legacy, she never did.

And now… they have all developed a strange but pleasant relationship with her. He more than anything has developed a respect, even an affection, for his older sister, because she wasn't the villain they had always been led to believe.

“Our arrangement with Citadel University was made precisely from the company in Oldtown, a company he will run until you have graduated,” she continues, “And if he already refused once to help you with that and finds out that I did, this strange peace I have managed to keep will be over.”

And the worst part is that she's right.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of those words.

If his grandsire finds out that she helped him behind his back, all the progress they've made to maintain family stability will shatter, destroying any chance of avoiding another conflict. And all because of a girl only he knows.

If it were a nephew, cousin or someone closer to the family nucleus, everything would be different. Nepotism is a common currency among wealthy and powerful families, like his, but in your case, you are a complete stranger.

That is precisely the reason why his grandsire refused to offer help him.

And now, Aemond is caught between the desire to repair the damage he caused in you and the fear that his insistence will cause an even greater rift in the family.

“Then I'll do it,” he says with conviction, sure of his words and Rhae looks at him surprised and confused, “Just tell me how I can get her into college. You don't have to get involved, I'll take it all on myself. I'll say I asked you for help and you refused. If anything goes wrong, it will be my responsibility.”

Rhaenyra lets out a long, deep sigh.

“Aemond—

She begins softly, but he interrupts her before she can say more.

“She deserves this,” he says, his voice lower but laden with sincerity. “It wasn't her fault. She did a favor for me on the condition that I would do this one for her. Besides, I've done a lot of things for my grandfather and the company, especially this company, so please Rhae, I really want to do this.”

Rhaenyra watches him for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in his.

The intensity in Aemond's gaze does not waver, for he is willing to take the consequences, to stand up to even his grandsire, if it means giving you a chance to repair the damage he himself caused.

“Even if I have to give up my own place to give it to her, I don't care, I'll do it.”

Rhaenyra blinks slowly, her mind struggling between logic and the desire to help him. Aemond rarely shows regret, and seeing him so willing to sacrifice himself for someone surprises her and reaches her deeply.

And finally, after what seems like an eternity, she sighs.

“What you're asking is a huge risk,” she admits, looking at him with a mixture of seriousness and empathy.

He holds his breath, his body rigid, as she seems to debate internally and he waits for a decision. And then, she turns to her computer, beginning to type, letting out a long breath.

“But don't be silly, I want you to study at Citadel too.”

The relief Aemond feels is almost palpable. A mixture of gratitude and hope takes hold of him, and his shoulders seem to relax for the first time since he entered the office.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Truly.”

“Just let me make a phone call and I also need her docu—

She doesn't finish saying the word as he, with a quickness that reflects his urgency, drops the folder with all the necessary papers in front of her on her desk.

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, looking at the folder with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Sure,” she murmurs and opens the folder, letting out a small laugh, beginning to flip through the documents, making sure everything is in order "Well, this folder is quite complete and the grades are excellent,” she says in acknowledgement, "That's good because it will help us speed up the process."

Aemond allows himself to let out a sigh of relief, watching as Rhaenyra steps in to help him with this favor. And as she begins to make calls and coordinate the necessary details, he remains attentive throughout, beginning to feel more relieved than ever.

He knows this won't exactly make you forgive him, but at the very least, he's fixing the damage he's done to you so he can give you the opportunity you deserve.

general taglist:

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#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #modern hotd #modern au #modern aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen angst

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lionneee · 18 days

Text

Little Princess

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: taking of sexual themes, drinking, degradation , chocking, smut, age difference.•

Previous part <- Current part

Modern!Father’s!Best!Friend!Aemond x Fem!Reader

You couldn’t say you were exactly proud of how you were handling everything.

Leaving the phone at home as you sneaked out of your window to go to a party with your friends, and get wasted was surely a good solution, and you were aware of it, but after being confined in your house for weeks, you couldn’t resist the temptation to have at least a bit of fun.

So you did it.

Your friends were aware that you were leaving your phone at home, because you knew that your father would have seen if you turned off your location, so it was the only way.

But as you danced in the middle of the club, alcohol freeing your mind completely of any thoughts, that didn’t seem such a big issue.

You knew how the night would have ended anyway, that’s why you ordered an uber at one am out of the club.

Because yes, alcohol allowed you to be careless, but it also created a discomfortable sensation between your legs.

You were going to fill the void that same night.

You didn’t care how wrong it was, you didn’t have sex for too long.

So as you said goodbye to your friends you could already feel your stomach clenching in anticipation.

The ride to his house was quick, and you were restless, you kept fixing your makeup, looking at your reflection on your pocket mirror.

What you didn’t expect was finding yourself hesitating from knocking.

Standing like a stupid drunk teenager in front of her ex-boyfriend door.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You gasped and turned immediately as you heard his voice behind you. He was dressed in a suit, but he had already loosened his tie around his neck.

He held the keys of his house in his hand as the other was resting in his pant’s pocket. You stared at him as he walked closer, until he was standing right in front of you, his face bent down to look you in the eyes.

He was just… so hot.

You swallowed loudly as you looked down at him, scanning his body as if you had x rays.

Not that you needed them, you knew his glorious body perfectly.

You stepped closer and grabbed his shirt in your hands, pulling him closer. You saw him clench his jaw as he raised his hand, looking straight ahead of him.

“Does your father know you’re here?” He asked, his voice not betraying any emotion. You shook your head as you kept looking up at him in awe. He sighed as his body tensed.

“Are you trying to get in more trouble than the one you already are?” He looked down at you, and you could swear you saw his breath hitch when he saw the way you were staring at him. “You know this is a bad idea, princess.”

“I can’t be without you.” You whispered. He chuckled coldly as he shook his head, looking away again from you.

“Yes you can. You should go home.” He said as he swallowed.

“No, Aemond. I have never been without you.” You whispered as you stood up on the tip of your feet to kiss his neck. Aemond sighed, bending his head back again, his cheek brushing against your hair as his lips got close to your ear.

“Stop.” He grunted. “You’re being reckless.” He added after a bit, his voice slightly softer.

“I need you, Aemond.” You whispered, tightening your hands on his shirt. “I need you always. This was never a mistake.” You pulled back to look at his eye.”This was the best thing we could have ever done.” You arched your brows as you saw him shake his head again, putting his hands on your hips to push you back.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sighed as he put his hands back in his pockets.

“Stop talking like you didn’t even want to start. We are in this together.” You looked at him sternly as he pulled back from you.

He sighed as he looked to the side, then down. He muttered something under his breath and grabbed your arm as he opened the door of his house, pushing you in as he closed the door behind you.

“I did warn you.” He growled as he pulled you closer, bringing your face mere inches from his. “I did try to stop you, to make you see reason. You are just too spoiled to even be able to manage a no.” He sighed and let your arm go. “Which is the exact same reason why you’re here.” He stepped back as he looked down at you. “Plus, you’re drunk. I can smell your breath from here, Jesus.”

“You think I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t drunk? I planned before even starting to drink.” You hissed, offended by his harsh words.

“What would your father do if he knew you came here?” He growled as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

I would say that I love you, that I can’t be without you.

“He won’t know.” You said, but he chuckled again.

“Like he wasn’t going to find out about us?” He turned towards you, walking closer. You bit your lip.

This was not going as you planned.

He should have jumped on you the moment he saw you, not pushed you away.

“You care so much about him, but you still fucked me countless of times, when he was at home or not.” You said as you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to contain your tears.

You were just so fucking desperate.

“Careful.” He warned as he glared at you.

“At least I’m not a hypocrite!” You raised your voice as you just let your tears run down your cheeks. “I don’t act like the perfect friend when I’m obviously not!”

“Oh, please. You’re literally a daddy’s girl.” He scoffed, laughing as she shook his head.

“Just fuck me!” You almost screamed as you clenched your hands into fists and took a step towards him. Aemond looked at you, his face serious as he took his time to let his eye roam over your body. “Or throw me out.”

“I won’t throw you out. It’s late and you’re drunk.” He said as he walked back to you, putting his hand under your chin to lift it up. “You know better than to go around when you’re drunk.” He said as he let his hand caress your neck. He suddenly stepped forward, forcing you to take a step back. “You know I love when you’re drunk. You’re so much more sensitive.” His voice dropped as he leaned his head down to take a better look at you. He took a deep breath as he let his hand fall more, ending up on your breast. He cupped it gently, squeezing it as if to taste its softness.

“You think I don’t want you?” He grunted as he stepped forward again and again, until your back was pressed against the wall. “You think I don’t want to feel that pretty pussy around me, squeezing, dripping for me?” He groaned under his breath as he looked up for a moment before coming back to you. “You think I don’t want to fuck you until you’re completely ruined, after weeks of jerking off on you?” He grabbed both of your cheeks with his hand, squeezing gently and tilting your face up, as his other hand went down under your dress, caressing your panties.

You couldn’t help but feel your stomach clench at his words as your breath hitched. The mix of alcohol and that look in his eye, full of need and desire, was already making her wet. Aemond smiled at that, slipping his hand under her underwear.

“See? So sensitive.” He whispered as he slipped two fingers inside you, without warning.

“Holy – !” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as you clenched your hands in his shirt, holding onto him. “Oh, fuck, yes!” You breathed out as he started rubbing your insides with intensity, stimulating your sweet spot like he had it mapped in his head.

“Yeah, you need me?” He smirked confidently.

“You need a cock almost twice your age to be truly satisfied?” He growled as he bent down to whisper in your ear. “What is it? I haven't found anyone as good as me?” He pushed you against the wall, hard. “You better start begging, princess.” He looked down at you as his eye darkened.

“God, Aemond!” You moaned again as she started pumping his fingers with increased force. “I-I need it, please – Please fuck me!” You panted heavily as you felt your orgasm reaching you embarrassingly fast. “I can make you feel so good… I’m still so tight, I’ll squeeze you so much-” Your mind was completely clouded by pleasure, you didn’t even know what you were saying.

You just wanted him to make you feel good as you did that too.

You wanted him to realize you were the best he could get, so he would never let you go again.

Aemond closed his eye for a moment as you spoke, savoring the moment as he could feel how tight you really were.

His fingers never stopped, they kept moving inside you, rubbing again and again until he felt you clenching, your walls spasming as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“I will fuck you so hard you’ll beg me to stop. And then I’ll fuck you again, and again so you’ll fucking stop being so needy al the goddamn time.” He growled.

“Oh – Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you threw your head back.

“I’ll fuck you untill you’ll be completely broken. Until you’ll be so full that you could explode.” He moaned as he felt you clenching so much tighter.

“You dirty little slut…” He groaned. “You want to be ruined, uh?” He pressed his forehead against yours. “You like what I’m saying so much?” He started rocking his hand on your core, making your hips move with his as you looked at him with your brows arched and pleading eyes, begging him silently to push you over the edge. “I’ll make you regret coming here in the first place.” He whispered in your ear, rubbing his palm on your clit.

“Holy shit!” You moaned loudly. “Aem – Ah!”It was too much, too much pleasure for your body, still altered by the alcohol. The tightness in your stomach snapped, and you let yourself feel the string waves of pleasure rushing through your boy, one after another as your walls clamped down on Aemond’s finger, your liquids wetting his hand as he helped you rode out your orgasm, his arm wrapping around your waist as he scoops you up to carry you in his bedroom.

You panted on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face under his head as you relished in his scent.

You were where you belonged.

Nothing will change that.

He dropped you not so gently on the bed as he looked down at you, standing at the feet of the bed.

“You like that dress?.” He asked as he pulled the belt off his pants with one swift move, making your breath hitch.

“W-what?” You looked at him, confused.

“Do you. Like. That dress?” He repeated again, scanning every word. You looked at him with your brows furrowed, nodding. He smiled and let his eye roam over your body.

“Too bad.” He played with the hem of the cleavage as he leaned down. He sat on the bed and shifted you on his lap so you were straddling him.

“You look cute in it.” He smiled at you. You smiled back, moving your hand on his shoulders but you stopped midway as his hands grabbed the cleavage, ripping in half the dress, making you gasp.

“Aemond I liked that dress!” You whined as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’ll buy you a better one.” He pulled the dress off your body, leaning back on his hands, placing them behind him on the mattress.

“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He looked at you with a grin. You gritted your teeth together as you unbuttoned his pants harshly, pissed because of your beautiful dress.

“Don’t. Don’t put on that attitude. It’ll do you no good.” He warned, but you didn’t listen, spreading his shirt apart, letting a few buttons pop out. He grabbed your wrists and looked at you sternly.

“I said don’t.” He growled. You pushed him back, freeing your wrist as you tugged his pants down along with his boxers just enough to let his cock out. You moved your panties to the side and raised on your knees to align the tip of his cock with your entrance and… stopped.

It had been a while since the last time you took him.

You struggled then, let alone now.

But basing on the grin on his lips, he was fully aware of it.

“Come on.” He whispered. “You looked like you wanted this desperately.”

You bit your lip as you started to slowly sink down on him, taking one inch after another long inch. Your walls were already burning, trying to adapt to his stupid big size. You stopped midway, your hips jerking and you closed your eyes, your arms around his neck tightening.

“A-ah…” You panted as you slowly tried to take the rest of him. “Aem… Aem, please…” You cried out as you looked for his help.

The only thing he did was thrust up, completely, until he was balls deep inside you.

You shuddered around him, sitting down completely as he let his hips down again, hiding your face in his neck.

“This… this is so much better…” You breathed out as you slowly rocked your hips on his, getting used to the feeling of having him back on you.

You felt so good.

So full.

“Oh, Aemond…” You moaned as you raised your head to look at him, your eyes gazed with lust, and love.

He immediately grabbed your hair and pulled them back, forcing you to look at the ceiling.

“You go too slow.” He growled, and he used his other hand for leverage as he started to thrust up his hips, slamming his cock inside you repeatedly.

You back arched as you threw your head back even more, your hands on his knees, his cock rubbing against your walls deliciously in this position.

You let out a loud moan, letting yourself completely in his hands, letting him use you as he wanted, fuck you as he wanted.

He pulled your hair tightly, enough to actually hurt, but you took the pain. You would have taken anything just to have him inside you again.

“Look at you. So fucking desperate.” He spat as he kept thrusting up, looking at you breast jumping at every hit. “You’re helpless.” He gritted his teeth as he leaned forward, slapping your ass as he pulled you up, moving you off of him and throwing you on the bed by your hair, making you and on all four. “I’m not going easy on you.” He growled as he pushed your head down on the mattress as he kneeled behind you.

He put his feet on the side of your head to keep you down, grabbing your ass and squeezing it harshly in his hands as you arched your back as much as you could. He slammed his cock back inside you as he started moving like a mad man, slapping you ass again and again, painting your skin red.

“Present yourself in my house, in that dress and drunk.” He groaned. “Throwing a tantrum because you can't find someone your hole as much as I can.” He delivered another spank, making you moan again. “You want my cock?” He chuckled as he looked at your face, how your drool was wetting his sheets. “You’ll get it.” He started slamming against you with much more force, enough to send you forward on the bed every time, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as you kept panting and moaning, your cunt squeezing him every time he reached deeper inside you, every time he rubbed just on the right spot. You clenched the sheets tightly in your hands as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Yes! Fuck me – Fuck me –” You whined as he did just that, filling the room with loud noises of squelching and skin slapping.

“Can you hear how wet you are, princess?” He growled as he slapped your ass again, making you cry out in pleasure and pain. “I’ll fucking break you.” He growled as he grabbed your hips, his fingers digging in your skin hard enough to leave bruises as he started pulling you back to meet every single one of his thrusts.

“Yes, baby, fuck! Fuck!” You kept panting, your mouth unable to stay close, every kind of sound coming out of you as the bed started cracking beneath you. You let out a long moan, interrupted every time his cock hit deep inside you. “You feel so good!” You let out a high pitched moan as you clenched around him.

“Yeah? I feel so good? That’s why you came back to me? Your father’s best friend? Uh?” He panted as he started thrusting faster inside you, gripping your hips tighter as he kept pulling you back to him.

I came back because I love you.

“You’re not his best friend anymore, I think—“ You gasped as you brought the sheets closer to your face, clenching your hands tighter on them.

“Because I fucked his daughter.” He growled as he moved his feet off your head, grabbing your hair and yanking you back to him. “The same daughter that came here on her knees, begging me to fuck her again.”

“Oh – Fuck! Aem – I’m gonna come –” You panted as you grabbed his wrist behind your head. “You’re gonna make me come!” You moaned loudly as it hit you hard, your walls convulsing around his cock, squeezing him and wetting him further as waves of pleasure shocked your body, making you spasm as Aemond let go of your hair to wrap his arms around you, bringing you both back down on the bed. He wrapped his arm around your neck, choking you slightly as he kept pushing, faster and faster as you kicked your feet in the air.

“Aemond! W-wait – Too much -” You cried out, but he didn’t bulge. He kept thrusting, more hard as he kept his face beside yours.

“I warned you.” He growled. “I will fuck you so hard you’ll beg me to stop.” He pressed his forehead on the back of your head and he kissed your hair, a big contrast to his rough and hard actions that he had till now. You cried out loudly as he kept moving.

“Aemond please. Give me a break- Just a little one-” You whined as you kept moving your legs, trying to soothe the feeling of high overstimulation. You could feel perfectly how the tip of his cock pushed so far into you, you could hear his ragged breathing, and occasional grunts, you could feel your stomach clenching as the pleasure started building again, so fast.

“Oh fuck – Aem!” You pressed your face on the mattress but when Aemond bent his arm around your neck, you were forced to raise your head to breathe.

“Come. Come, show me, princess, show me how much you’re still my slut. My little princess.” He whispered in your ear. You cried out loudly as you felt yourself near the edge again.

“Yes — I’m still your princess —“ You cried out.

God you missed him so much.

“I am your princess — Yours!” You whined as you sobbed, your orgasm washing over you again.

You missed how he used to take care of you.

You missed how innocent your relationship was.

You missed his hugs, his kisses on your head.

You missed being his little princess.

“Shh, shh…” He whispered in your ear. “I’m not finished by a long shot.”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n

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justauthoring · 4 months

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a life like mine.

because you may think you're nothing, but gojo thinks you're the whole world (modern au).

a/n -> goooojjjjjjooooooooooooo

pairing -> gojo satoru x f!reader

tw. -> you're a prositute, implied sexual content, physical abuse (not by gojo), dubious content (not by gojo) also, not spell-checked :)

he'd noticed it as you were clasping your bra on.

a large, weltering bruise; the size of his hand and black and blue and everything nasty. something uncomfortable twists in his chest, face falling as he pushes himself up to rest on the crook of his elbow. when his hand touches your back, you jump despite how soft his touch is, head turning over your shoulder and frowning when you realize what he's staring at.

"it's nothing," you dismiss instantly. you brush his worry away and stand, putting extra care into stepping away from him as you slip your panties on; a matchy lilac lacy pair to go with your bra.

gojo isn't so easily distracted though. "who did it to you?"

and he watches, always aware of you and your emotions, as your face twists; there's a flash of fear that appears in your eyes but you blink it away as fast as it came. "a client," you say eventually, short and sweet. to the point. it's clear you don't want him to ask more questions.

gojo just stares back at you.

you huff. "some dude that came in yester—no, two days ago." there's a pause, body stilling, and then you're brushing out your hair. "it's fine."

but that uncomfortable feeling still weighs heavy in gojo's chest. he sits up, moving to the edge of the bed as he watches you clean and fix yourself. the reality of the situation weighs heavily on his shoulders—in a minute you'll walk out that door, put a bright smile on your lips and you'll do what you just did with him to another man.

"i've been thinking," gojo speaks up, eyes still stuck on that bruise.

"yeah?" you call out, distracted, "what about?"

"you and me."

everything stills then. the tense air thickens into something else entirely as your eyes snap to his. you stand there before him with a dark look in your eyes, practically willing him not to finish what he's threatening to start.

"sato—"

"no, just—just listen to me, okay?" he's pushing himself to his feet, crossing the distance over to you in seconds. his hands fall on your arms so as not to let you pull away, tugging you towards him as he smiles down at you; as if he's got the solution to everything. "we work well together—you and me. you—i like you. a lot. and not just for the sex. i like your spirit... i love how you laugh and the jokes you make. i like when you give me shit and i love when i get to see that sparkle in your eye."

you're shaking your head, lips parting but gojo doesn't give you the chance.

"it leaves the second you walk out that door, y/n." gojo breathes, voice desperate, "the second you're out there you're someone else. someone you're forced to be. and i know you need the money but i can give you that money. you don't need to... to—"

"—to what?" you cut in, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. "whore myself out?"

gojo's huffs. "i didn't say that."

"but that's what you meant," you shrug. "the second i go out there i'm not myself? that's what you believe?" you raise a brow, pulling away from his grasp. gojo attempts to stop you and you slap his hands away. "the second i'm out there, satoru, i'm not longer the girl you want me to be. that's the truth."

"y/n—

"no, you listen to me," you hiss, pushing him back by his chest. "i like you, it's true. we get along. you're nice to me... but don't think you're any different from any one of those men out there." your arm shoots back sharply to gesture towards the door; to the other side that is blasting music and filled with lights and occupied by men waiting for their pick of women like you.

lips left parted, gojo watches as you kneel down, grabbing his jeans off the floor and reach into his front pocket. a second later there's a wad of cash in your hands. "you pay me. just like them. you think you're better because you're some son of some rich daddy? because your inheritance is some big corporation?"

and gojo notices it then—the tears welling in your eyes.

"you're not. you may be prettier, smarter... whatever. but you come in here and you pay me for my body just like them. and anything we do or the way i act is because that's my job. to satisfy men by being the type of women they want."

you throw the money at him and gojo catches it, watching as you move to leave the room.

just as your hand falls on the door, he speaks up; "is it your job to let them hit you?"

and he knows it's a cruel thing to say. he knows it's mean and horrible and the worst possible thing he could say to you in that moment. but he's angry and his feelings are hurt, so he says it all the same.

your eyes meet his fiercely, shining with pure hatred.

"not everyone gets to choose the life they live, satoru," you whisper and something about it scares gojo cold. "so don't you dare judge me for living mine."

gojo had started visiting you four months ago.

he'd walked into the club one night, surrounded by a bunch of his friends; they'd walked in with their heads held high and the clear confidence that they knew they were better than every other person in that room.

your boss had dropped everything to greet them. shaking and honestly pitiful, he'd dined and served on them for whatever they wanted.

you remember thinking that it was odd such high-class men had come to your club. gross, old and fat men came to your club; not young, attractive men like him and his friends.

that didn't mean you expected him to act any different.

he was though. so different. sure, he'd been cocky and it was clear he was quite high on himself. he still threw flirts your way and eyed you, but it was different than how it had been with any of the other men that had before him. his teases were genuine flirts, could even be considered sweet. he didn't eye you like a peace of meat and when he finally had you alone, he'd been just as attentive on you as you were on him.

he'd paid extra and had smiled at you so sweetly you were unable to deny the flutters it gave you.

he returned two weeks later. then, four days later. and then, he just... kept coming.

three weeks ago, your boss had been replaced. it wasn't that you particularly loved your boss before, but he was nice enough and he was extra careful about making sure you and none of the girls were ever harmed outside of any kinks in the bedroom.

he was decent enough for the club you worked at.

this new guy didn't give a shit. not about you, or any of the other girls—all he cared about was money. and with him brought scarier clients. the first time you'd seen one of the girls with a black eye, you'd went to tell him and he'd told you to fuck off.

when you pushed, he'd slapped you and told you if you didn't shut up, he'd do worse.

the next night a man had chosen you and almost immediately he had unnerved you. the way he looked at you was nothing good; cruel and like he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. across the room, you'd seen your new boss looking at you and the glare on his face had been clear.

don't screw up.

that man, some big CEO of some big company, had kept you all night. hours and hours. it wasn't the sex that bothered you—you'd had rough sex before, especially considering your job. it was... the way he'd held you, the way he choked you so hard you'd blacked out. it's the way he'd hit you when you tried to fight back.

it was the things he called you and the things he'd said to you.

a week later was when gojo had came in and that was the last you'd seen him since.

clearly, his talk of 'you and him' had been nothing.

that man, haruto ito was his name, came back two days after. and four after that, and he'd come back tonight too. each and everytime he requested you and each and everytime he got more and more violent.

"—stupid bitch, are you listening to me?"

you're pulled from your thoughts as a sharp pain radiates from your cheek. you blink, stunned, only to find a pair of narrowed, harsh eyes staring back at you. it's haruto, and he looks less than pleased.

"s-sorry, sir," you apologize, ignoring the hurt of your cheek as you step towards him. you right yourself quickly, knowing it'd be worse if you didn't, and make sure to swing your hips as you saunter towards him, hands falling on his shoulders to straddle his waist. "now, where were we? i—"

he pushes you off him, without a care for you, as you slam into the carpetted floor with a cry. hand sprawled out behind you to catch yourself, you stare up at him in surprise.

"what—"

"i want to try something different tonight," he leers, not a care in the world that he'd just hurt you, smiling brightly at your pain.

your stomach twists, fear blooming through you.

"sir, i—"

"no more 'sir'," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "i think 'master' would be more appropriate, no?"

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath. "i, um, m-master, i don't understand—"

"just shut up and do what i tell you," he brushes off with a wave of his hand. "first, i want you to lick my boot."

he extends his foot out towards you, and your eyes fall on it, puzzled.

"sir—master," you speak hesitantly, "wouldn't you rather if i—"

"do it. now."

hands left curled in your lap, something horrible twists in you. it was one thing to degrade yourself for the pleasure of these men; to have sex with them or suck them off or anything of that sort... but to... lick his boot?

it felt... worse.

dehumanizing.

"i-i don't... i mean, this isn't what we're supposed to do. i don—"

"i paid for you," he hisses, reaching forward to grab a handful of your hair. he tugs, hard, a cry leaving your lips as you're forced to bend your body awkwardly to relieve the strain. "so you'll do whatever the fuck i tell you to."

"p-please, i—!"

he slaps you across the face, this time harder, before he uses that hand to grip your jaw, pinching, squeezing until your mouth is forced open and his face is right in front of yours.

his eyes are blazing and you realize that you're terrified.

"lick. my. boot."

he lets go then, dropping you as you sink into yourself, shaking and crying as a sob wretches from your throat. he pushes his foot in front of your face, lightly kicking you with it, and you dig your nails into the palm of your hand as you force your mouth apart and move to lick.

just as you do, you hear the distinct voice of your boss and pounding footsteps.

"—sir! she is with a client!"

"i don't care. get out of my way!"

your head snaps over your shoulder in the direction of the door. that was—

"what are you doing?" haruto hisses, grabbing you by the arms as he tugs you back towards him. his grip is pinching and you yelp in response, turning back only to see him pulling his hand back and your eyes fall shut, trying to steady yourself for the pain you know will come.

except, it never does.

in the midst of everything, you hadn't heard the door slam open. it isn't until, a moment later, that you flicker your eyes open in confusion, only to see gojo looming beside you, his hand gripping haruto's wrist in his own.

and his face—it's the angriest he's ever seen it.

"what the hell is—" haruto attempts to call, moving to stand, but gojo cuts in.

"is that how you let your client treat your own employees?" gojo asks, murderous eyes focused in on your boss. you glance back at him and it's the first time you've seen your boss look so afraid. "beat them? and you." he spins to haruto, and you watch as he cries out, gojo's grip turning painful. "you like hitting defenceless girls?"

you're shaking, you realize. shaking and crying. your heart is bounding against your chest and it's then you realize you're still naked. as your hands move to cover yourself, you miss the way gojo's eyes fall on you.

something warm falls over your shoulders then. it's gojo's jacket.

meeting his eyes, the concern in them, a fresh wave of tears fall down your cheeks.

gojo let's go of haruto, and before either him or your boss can say anything, his arms are slipping underneath your back and knees and he's lifting you to his chest. he turns, pushing your boss out of the way and walks right out the door.

a second later, your boss comes running out. "wh-where do you think you're taking her? she's still one of my girls!"

a group of your coworkers, other girls who'd heard the commotion, are standing by the bar watching. there's concerned looks on their faces, especially when some of them see the state of you, and there's confusion.

gojo stops right by the door leading outside.

"consider this her quitting."

gojo hadn't said a word.

he'd been silent in the car ride, having tucked you into the passenger seat, making sure his jacket was still wrapped around you tightly. you don't know how long you drove, all you could focus on was the sobs that refused to stop.

when you reached what you assume was his house (mansion more like it) the tears finally stopped. he refused to let you walk, opting to carry you and didn't set you down until you reach a bedroom. his bedroom.

he'd grabbed a shirt and some sweats, both which were too big, but helped you dress into them before tucking you into bed. he'd then left, only to return with a glass of water, a clothe and a first aid kit.

all without saying a word.

now, having just finished cleaning your words, you were desperate for him to say something.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, unable to handle the silence. "i'm so, so sorry."

and that makes gojo still. he freezes on the seat next to you, body tensing as his eyes slowly flicker to meet your own and then he's shaking his head. "why are you apologizing?"

the tears well again even if you desperately try to hold them back. "because of what i said to you..." you whisper, hugging yourself as your lip trembles. "you're nothing like them. and... and i should've listened to you."

gojo's silent for a long moment. it drifts, carries on and leaves you tense and unsure. and then, finally, he speaks.

"it's not your fault."

and his voice is firm, leaving no room for any arguments as he shakes his head at you. "i should've tried to be more sensitive to you."

nodding numbly, you glance at your lap. "how'd you know?"

"one of my friends visited," gojo starts. "said he saw your boss hit one of the girls. i remembered the bruise and i was there before i even realized it."

your eyes widen then. "the other girls!" you hadn't thought about it in the moment; scared and desperate to get away. but your boss would surely be angry about what had happened with you and that meant— "they'll be punished! my boss, he'll—!"

gojo's hand falls on your own, soft and warm, gentle. "don't worry about that, baby. my guys are there. they'll help them."

lips parting, you turn to gojo. "really?"

he smiles. "i promise."

eased at that, you nod. silence follows then, echoes for a few moments.

gojo is the first to break it. "i meant what i said even if i said it wrong."

you turn to him, confused.

"you and me," he clarifies and you blink. "i never went to you just for the sex. maybe at first, but never after that. i... i can't explain it but i could never stop thinking about you. you were on my mind all the time. and it pained me to see you stuck in a place you hated so much."

squeezing your hand, gojo shifts, leaning closer to you.

"i mean it. you don't have to go back, ever. i... you can stay with me."

your heart warms but you hesitate. "what about money? i... i don't have any to give you."

"i don't need it. you could live here forever and never work and i wouldn't care," he professes and something about the way he says it tells you he means it. "i have more than enough money in the world. but... but if you want something, i can help you get a job. something better. something safer."

biting your lip, you sniffle. "i... i always wanted to work with kids."

gojo smiles then; "then you'll work for kids."

you stare at him, stunned that a man like him would do so much for a girl like you. "why?" you ask, shakign your head. "why do all this for me?"

"because..." and he hesitates, inhaling sharply as he thinks over his words. but the resolution comes with ease and gojo's words are heartfelt and meaningful as he answers. "because i love you."

your lips part, stunned.

"you don't have to love me back," he assures with a shake of his head. "i know i used you the same as all those other men. but please know i never meant it that way."

you shake your head. "it never felt that way to me. i didn't mean what i said before."

gojo seems eased at that, smiling. "i'm glad."

"and... and," you start slowly, inhaling sharply. "i don't know if i love you... yet. but i trust you," you confess, meeting his eyes. "and you make me happy. and i think i could learn to love you."

gojo just smiles.

"that's all i could ask for."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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fandomrose · 9 months

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Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort.

Hi again. A Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort. I've been working on this for a depressingly long time.

There is implied spoilers but not many. This is also friends to probably, eventually lovers. Starting with the friends in this fic.

This is alot more angsty than the Neuvillette one. It does have descriptions of injury and disassociation. I drew on my own experiences with my own disassociation and helping others through theirs.

I really wanted to do one for Furina because I wish to hug the poor woman. She's been through too much.

I hope you enjoy 💙

You clutched bags filled with cooking ingredients. Ever since learning that your 'former' Lady Furina was living off of macaroni from a certain blonde haired traveller and 'talkative' flying pixie. You decided to pay her a visit, said flying pixie freely telling you where she lived.

Nerves coursed through you. It had been a few weeks since you had seen Furina. Since the prophecy had 'not' come to fruition your services as a private investigator for 'solutions for the prophecy' was no longer needed. And when Furina stepped down from her position as Hydro Archon you stopped seeing her.

'Diva archon' is what people called her but you knew her better than that. You can't have claimed to be close but, you had seen glimpses of the hidden care and love she had for the nation she governed. True god or not you saw glimpses of all she sacrificed over your few years working under her. You had grown fond of her and the trail she was put through almost broke your heart.

You steeled your nerves before knocking on Furinas door at just past midday. There was silence before you heard rustling, the unlocking of the door and it opened giving you the first look at Furina in 3 weeks.

She had slight bags under her eyes, she looked thinner and her smile was not as bright as it used to be.

"Why hello, it's certainly been a while since I've seen you,-" she started off attempting the same theatrical countenance she had before but it quickly faded. "Why have you come here and how did you find out where I live?"

The thought of her finding it worrying that you knew where she lived didn't cross your mind. "The travellers companion may have let it slip my lady."

She sighed, "Please don't call me that any more just 'Furina' is fine." Her voice now sounded tired, a slight rasp of exhaustion present.

"Alright my- Furina... um," there was an awkward air between you two, one that you were determined to dismiss. "I was wondering if you would like to spend the afternoon in familiar company... I brought food if you'd like to have dinner."

Furinas eyes narrowed slightly. "Did Paimon also tell you that I was living off of macaroni."

You had somehow forgotten how sharp Furina was. "Yes.. but, but I didn't just bring food, I thought I'd teach you to make more dishes other than macaroni. Still quick, easy and involving pasta but different. Also baking bread. I thought it would go well with what we are making...." You felt yourself ramble, trying to convince Furina to give you a chance.

She looked like she was fighting with herself for a moment. You hold your breath waiting for a response. "Okay.. that sounds nice actually."

You sigh with relief "Alright lead the way my- um- Furina." You watched as she flushed a slight pink before leading you inside. Her home was modestly furnished but well coordinated and clearly to her aesthetic taste. She led you through the short hallway and into her kitchen. It was up to Fontaine’s modern standard with an oven and hobs, a sink and a new cooling machine that was recently invented by the Fontaine research institute for the storage of Fonta, but had been later discovered to increase the shelf life of many different foods. They were currently very expensive however. You wondered how she was able to afford it with no job. Her shelves were almost bare however, it made you glad you came with ingredients and a few extra essentials.

"Here you can put the food on the counter." Furinas gestured to the counter close to the oven. "What are we making?"

You nod and pull the ingredients out. "I thought a cottage pie and some garlic flat bread would be a good start. I also brought the ingredients to make some simple crěpes for dessert."

"Great ... I don't know how to make any of that, are you sure you want to bother teaching me?"

"Of course Furina, why would I bring all this if not to teach you."

"I guess you're right, so what are we starting with?" Her voice was hesitant, you begin to wonder if she was really up to this. What if you were pushing her too hard?

"Ah I thought we'd start by preparing the bread.."

You show her the steps of baking bread. She follows your instructions diligently, her smile broadening and confidence returning with every step she gets right. "This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Then again of course I could learn anything I put my mind to."

Seeing her smile again was all you wanted out of today. If you were being truthful with yourself.

"Now we let the dough rest for about 45 minutes.. in the meantime let's prepare the potatoes for the mash that'll go on top of the shepherd's pie."

You teach her how to peel a potato with a paring knife. Or rather you try to. As she pulled back the knife her hand slipped on the potato and she nicked her palm with the knife, a long thin line of blood appearing on her palm. You were focused on your own potato when you heard her yelp in pain. You immediately drop the knife and potato you were peeling and rush to her side assessing the damage.

"Furina! What happened?" You gently grab her hand looking at the wound. "Where is your first aid kit?" She didn't speak, only pointed to a cupboard on the other side of the room, her eyes glued to her wound, pearls of tears collecting in the outer corners of her eyes and all you want to do is draw her into your arms.

But first the wound, you gather the first aid kit and sit Furina down at the table in the kitchen and quietly bandage her hand. The cut wasn't deep, which was good, but she barely flinches as you clean the wound, which was a point of concern. You sense she's not up for criticism or questions so you keep things to yourself while you finish bandaging her hand.

I take a deep breath and try to talk to her again now that the wound is dealt with. "Furina? Are you up for continuing or would you like me to take over?" She didn't respond immediately seemingly not even hearing you, you are about to attempt to get her attention again when-

"No. You- you take over." She sounded exhausted again, and almost defeated. Worry crawls through your stomach all the way up into you throat but you hold back for now. Not quite sure how to deal with this Furina.

"Alright." Is all you can say, softly as not to startle her. As you continue prepping the meal peeling the potatoes, boiling them in milk for extra creaminess and seasoning with salt and pepper. You start up another hob and cook the meat, frying off the fat before adding, flour, worcestershire sauce, a splash of red wine, tomato paste, chopped bell peppers and onions. While the mixture reduces you prepare the dough Furina made earlier, spreading a mixture of garlic butter rosemary and thyme over the dough and place it in the oven.

You catch Furina glancing at you while you work. You turn off the heat on the meat and take some of it from the pan in a small spoon and carefully carry it over to her. "Would you like to taste test Furina?" She looked up at you in surprise before nodding slowly. You offer the spoon to her and she leans forward and closes her mouth around it without taking it out of your hands.

A moment of silence, while you might usually feel flustered at this kind of action. But with Furina seemingly still out of it, not registering what she'd done, it was just concerning. You take the spoon away and turn around.

"Is it good?"

A tired "Yea" is the only response you get. It'll do for now. You finish off the cottage pie by arranging it in a dish putting the meat and veg mixture, then the creamy mash before sprinkling a generous helping of parmesan cheese over the top of the mash and putting in the oven for 20 mins. The bread is almost ready to take out and could make a good starter.

You set a time and sit by Furina, slightly awkwardly, not knowing what to say. You'd been so focused on your tasks you hadn't realised how strange it felt to be around Furina in a casual setting and especially not when something seemed to be bothering her so greatly.

"Furina.. How's your hand?"

"It's fine, doesn't hurt much anymore."

Your concern was beginning to reach a peak. She couldn't look at you for some reason. And her voice was so weak it was barely there but you don't know what to do without crossing an unspoken boundary or making things worse.

The bread timer goes off. You rise from your seat to take it out, putting it on a rack to let it cool for a few minutes.

You look over at Furina, her form slumped and defeated looking, her eyebags somehow more prominent than when you started. You didn't understand what could have made her this way. Overall yes, you were there at her trial after all, at the end of it you were just happy she wasn't actually executed. But what happened today? Was it the injury? But why would that cause a near catatonic dissociation?

You didn't want to push, instead you just cut up the bread and offered her a piece, on a small plate, in the hopes that some form of stimulation would reawaken her. She slowly picks at the bread, putting small pieces in her mouth.

The second timer goes off. The cottage pie is ready, so you remove from the oven, find two large plates and serve the food.

She looks up at the food and picks up the fork, slowly digging in to the cottage pie. You watch with interest hoping maybe food would perk her up at least a little. And perk up she does. Finally a smile graces her face, small but there.

"This is lovely, thank you. Truly a meal worthy of the great Furina De Fontaine." She made an attempt at her energetic performance but was still tired it seemed.

You smile at her in what you hope is a pleasant and reassuring manner. "Well my lady I am glad it's worthy of your greatness."

She laughed that same haughty laugh you'd grown to enjoy hearing even if it was a little strained with exhaustion.

"Would my lady enjoy some crêpes to cleanse her palette of savoury tastes?"

"Yes, a batch of crêpes sounds wonderful my humble chef."

You stand and bow hoping this play was helping her recover from whatever state she was in. Turning to make a small batch of crěpes you don't notice the way she slumps in her seat.

You dust the crêpes in powdered sugar, lemon juice and fill them with cream and chopped fruit. A plate of two crěpes is placed in front of Furina with a smile. Your smile fades seeing her downtrodden look again.

"La- Furina? Is everything okay?"

"It should be... but it's not" was her response. You watch as tears slip down her cheeks. She tries to quickly wipe them away. "Ahhahaha.. how silly, I don't know why.. an overflow of hydro yes it must be."

You walk round the table and stand by her. "Furina, you can tell me what's wrong. You- you don't have to hide anymore."

It seems that small push was all it takes for her to allow herself to break. She turns and practically falls into your arms and sobs. "It was going so well. But then I messed up again. I really am useless" She cried into your arms, her sentences broken up by bouts of heartbreaking sobs.

Saying anything felt like a bad idea for now so you remove her hat and simply stroke her head while she cries into your chest. You don't know how long it takes but you patiently wait for her tears to dry and her sobbing to subside. Grabbing a soft handkerchief you lift her face and dab at her cheeks. You watch her eyes widen as if she realised she was actually crying into a living person rather than a plushie.

"I- I-"

"Furina, it's okay.. you aren't useless and you are still learning right. You have no idea how many cuts and burns on my arms and hands I have scars for just from cooking. Hahaha. It happens my lady. But if I may be so bold, it's not about the accident is it?"

You pause before speaking again, not wanting her to have any excuses you make sure to beat her to the punch.

"Have you mourned yet? Your status as an archon? Your position in Fontaines elite? Your friendship with Monsieur Neuvillette? Anything else I am not privy to."

It wasn't the most elegant way to put it. Some might call it cruel but she needed to confront this in order to move on.

You begin to regret your decision when you see Furina hang her head and cry again, much more subdued this time. You open your mouth to apologise but-

"You're right... I've been ignoring it all instead of dealing with it. I thought I could just move on, and 'improve myself' and everything would be okay."

She spoke so harshly of her own thoughts. You shake your head and sigh.

"Don't be mean to yourself Furina. Your only mistake was isolating yourself, but if I may be so bold, again, I'm here. And I want to help you, I've always liked spending time with you so I'd be more than happy to be your friend."

She began to sob again. "You want to be my friend? You'll stay by my side even when I'm like this.."

"Yes Furina, that is what I want. As long as you want it to." You open your arms letting her hug you again. She was crying, but at least her tears were happy this time.

This was probably the start of something wonderful.

#genshin x reader #furina x reader #angst and fluff #genshin x you

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multiplicationdivision · 4 months

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Throwing in the Towel

Ever feel lonely at the gym? No partners in your weight class? Theres a simple solution.

Newbies are an excellent source of raw material in modern gyms. Typically young stupid 20 year olds with nothing but envy for the built muscles and skill of their superiors. They’d agree to anything to have it, and being fondled by a larger stronger man was a siren song in of itself for their starved horny little brains. Didn’t hurt that all that excitement made their blood run hot, made it all so much easier to work.

Harrison hadn’t even had to mourn his buddy cancelling last minute on their evening boxing before he was roping in the youngest guys in his gym, summoning them from where they hid aways from the gym. They were a pair of unconfident college kids, but Harrison could fix that. They’d been nothing but gleeful to accept to Harrison’s offer, despite having no idea what his “stretches” entailed. Harrisons demand that they be naked in the locker room had been irresistible for them, probably recalling the start of so many pornos they’d overwatched again and again.

They likely thought they were in one themselves and they weren’t exactly wrong.

It was simple enough to press them together. Their short scrawny bodies were just enough combined to equal Harrison’s own heavy musculature. Harrisons pressed them together like tough clay, their individual bodies resisting the pressure before finally giving, the distinction between their individual body parts giving out over the course of a small eternity as Harrison messaged the tension out of their muscles with his well-practiced technique. Convincing those muscles to bind between each other over his sculpting hands, anchoring them on fusing bones.

Harrison found the entire process quite enjoyable, creating true potential out of nobodies, allowing scrawny men to skip all that treacherous work of muscle aches and gym time so that they could get to the good part immediately. There was the more physical parts of this process that he savored though.

Pressing two chest against his own until their respective person though they would break under the pressure before they let loose a shared gasp as their bodies fit together in one perfectly aligned slip. Harrison wrestling their squirming neuron confused body to the floor as he gave his attention to their waists, torturing the individual components of his little project as he enticed two cocks together without letting them release, bundling together all those sensitive nerves in a way that was surely electric to his new friends and letting it echo between their still separate heads.

He'd quickly move onto their legs, not caring to give them the satisfaction. His eyes were always on the prize and that was getting a few hours of gym time in before heading home. It was just business he always explained to his new friends, knowing that leaving them high and dry would make the coming night all the better. Nothing like multiplied nerves and a bit of boxing to make a man an absolute animal in bed.

They’d understand later, even if they begged in still separate voice for his mercy in let them finish. He shut them up by gripping their skulls and pressing as tight as he could. Watching their heads slowly push together, facial features swimming as their pale skin merged together and the bone compounded. Harrison could watch individual strands of hair join, as two mouths fits together and became one indistinct voice as irises shifted back and forth between colors.

Their separate DNA couldn’t decide what they should look like in this delicate stage, flashing with varying features of every trait possible in their genetic code. If Harrison left them like this, they would eventually balance out, becoming a perfect amalgam of their two parts. He’d done it before countless times and a fair bit of the men who’d frequented this boxing gym were products of such a thing. They’d come out either as a handsome man with merged memories or the two personalities sharing their combined form. He’d seen every variation of it, enjoyed every grateful night from the spectrum of unique fusions he would eventually bring home.

Harrison was in the mood to try something new today.

Sure, combining two men would meld their individual skills and body into one greater whole, but there was always one problem. These newbies never amounted to much skill in the ring to match Harrison’s own, even with their combined competency. These boys had only about 6 weeks of boxing between them and that was nothing before Harrison’s years of the sport.

Harrison had a fix.

Their unstable form would be easy to meddle with and Harrison’s own body was all the more willing to influence. He could grip their shifting body and feel a bit of him merge with it, just enough to pass a trace of dominant information in between them. Siphoning a copy of everything that made Harrison himself into the indistinct man.

It was surprising how simple it was, feeling a version of himself sink into the accepting form. Feeling the connection to himself stretch as this copy of his memories and selfhood settle beside the two minds in the body before him. He could feel in real time how those two minds devoured that copy, integrating all the experience and skills of Harrison into themselves with reckless abandon.

The point he’d griped rippled and darkened with a slight tan, before the color and shape of body that Harrison knew well flowed across this smooth form. Muscle he’d quite literally fought for now replicated out of once soft weak mass, becoming distinct on the locker room floor. A naked man with his handsome face staring back at him with all the glee of his components, his scruffy beard and messy hair just as Harrison had left it that morning. He gave a sassy little flirt to his original, something like “Hey handsome” or “Did we always look so sexy”. Saying the cheesy shit that made it clear that the young men were still under it all, youthful energy filtered through the lens of Harrison’s personality.

He'd quickly gotten them dressed in his backup clothes, tossing them matching sneakers and shorts that he’d bought on the off chance that this fantasy would work. They were his perfect reflection and they knew he enjoyed it, making off comments as if they’d been with him when he’d bought his clothes. Claiming his memories as their own before they took to using his own techniques against him.

Pushing him against the locker room wall in a show of dominance before playing it off as rough housing. Coping a feel in between rounds of perfectly matched fights, knowing full well that they were dangling him off the edge in the same way that he was doing to them. Stealing his phone and keys because “They were his too”, as if they had a claim to every part of Harrison, knowing that such a concept would make his heart race.

Harrison was always in control, but such a thing was impossible now. This copy of himself wielded everything he did under the control of what was clearly still two separate horny little shits, paradoxically utilizing his manipulation with utmost skill despite how blatantly obvious it was. He’d optimistically call them equally matched, but their combined force of personality would likely overcome him.

His mind reeled at how much his body enjoyed that thought. He could feel his double taste the power shift in the air as they wrestled, so far from what was typical for boxing. Identical hands around him that Harrison knew could threaten just as much reality altering force as his own, threatening to change him just as Harrison had done to others his entire life.

In between the bludgeoning of their gloves against each other, Harrison’s mind wandered far. He was at this man’s mercy because he wanted to be and his own cock seemed to push all sense of self preservation aside. He’d given his identity to two reckless college kids and he wanted them to be as irresponsible with it as possible. To do everything he’d done and more.

Today was the only guarantee that they’d still be a pair of twins and lord knows if their number would grow or decrease. Harrison melded with another man at his double’s whims or absorbed into him as if he was nothing but a resource for more gains. Just clay to be sculpted.

Harrison’s twin grinned with all the shit eating danger of uncontained world altering libido and Harrison could only grin in return.

Tonight would be worth the risk and so would every night after.

It was a thrill Harrison could get used to.

#identical #copy #shapeshift #male shapeshift #clones #sharing a body #male merge #merging #my writing #personality change #male tf #male merging #male body merging #clone by conversion

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swampstew · 11 months

Text

Eustass Kid, G-48 ~ Milking Table

Summary: It's that time of the month. The time when Kid really really needs your help to get through the deep-seated primal urges he has. Lucky for him he has someone as amazing and caring as you.

Warnings: Spicy, modern monster au, Eustass Kid as Tarbh-uisge with reader - implied relationship. Kid strapped to a milking table, use of milking pump, breeding kink, monsterfucking if you squint. Special mention to @don-mellow for being the reason this folklore creature was the first thing that popped into my mind for this prompt. Subscribe to their Patreon! Word Count: 772

Tarbh-uisge: Generally regarded as a nocturnal water bull, it is more agreeable than its equine counterpart the water horse, while having similar amphibious and shapeshifting abilities. It is able to shapeshift into human form and live on land or in water. It can also be amiable and sometimes helpful. The bull might have had a sacred role in various Celtic cult rituals. The Tarbh-uisge was viewed a symbol of fertility and abundance

You had Kid strapped face down on the custom milking table, an impressive feat in itself considering his hulking mass and general…defiant of authority attitude. In a harness that bound his flesh arm behind his back and his ankles to the table, you massaged his back with heated oil to soothe his muscles, helping him relax. The two of you had been at it for a while, and he had needed a break.

His muttering that he didn’t need to be babied let you know he was ready for the next session. Gently wiping the excess oil off, you scratch his back hard enough to leave red lines – each graze of your fingernails draws a shaky grunt from him. The purple faded lines of the previous marks littered down his back and ass, and you would have to remember to take a photo of how delicious he looked.

You moved off his muscled back and peeked under the table, pleased to find his cock swollen once more. Bless his stamina. Reaching out, you ran your fingernails down his shaft to his balls, watching in delight as his cock bobbed from the contact, and precum already leaking out from his slit.

“You’re doing so well. After tonight, I’ll let you have some rest and relaxation. You’ve filled up quite a few buckets. Then after, I’m going to treat you so good. Let you be my pillow prince to thank you for your sacrifice today,” you cooed, kissing his cheek. His damp locks plastered on his hair barely hid the flush in his face.

With a warm touch you begin jerking him off. Whispering filthy things you’d do to spoil him when this was all over. How you’d ride him for days on end, how you’d feed him while fucking him, not letting him leave the bed so you could give him all your love.

He leaked into your hand and that helped you fist him faster as he wasn’t able to do anything except struggle in his restraints – unable to even rut properly through the table to build his pleasure. He was entirely reliant on you and your methods alone to milk his cock.

If he was unrestrained, there was a chance he could go crazy in his lust and do something stupid like mount and accidentally impregnate you. Every month he would go through a cycle of needing to breed – a time where he couldn’t keep his cock down if his life depended on it – and you were kind enough to find a creative solution for you both.

Kid’s panting became louder, huskier as the tip of his cock turned deep red. You watched as his balls drew tight, signaling he was near release. You ducked your body under the table and formed a ring with your fingers, holding the base of his cock with a firm grip as you pulled out the milking pump.

“FU-FUCK!” he grunted loudly. “Swear you get off on doing that,” he spat out, hitting his forehead against the leather padded table in frustration.

“I don’t not,” you giggle, connecting the tube to the pump to the last vial you had. With a fat lick of your tongue from his perineum, over his scrotum, and up his shaft, your lips wrapped around his head giving him an urgent suck before you popped off him. Giving his twitching cock a kiss, you slid the pump over his cock and began pumping him faster than before.

“SHIT! SHIT! I’M-I’M CUM—” the rest of his stutter was cut off by a pleasured, dull roar as his hips squeaked and rutted against the table. You watched the pump line fill with the thick, white liquid going down the drip line and into its vial. The sound of weary panting left Kid as the line kept dripping until the vial was filled to the brim.

“I’m done I’m dooonnee!!” he cried from overstimulation as you pulled the pump off.

“I know love, I know,” you topped the vial and put the equipment in the bucket. Noticing a few drops weeping from his softening dick, you quickly crawled over and enveloped your mouth on his tip to lick him dry.

8 tiles to go, 49 calls made so far.

#eustass kid #kinktober 2023 #raven's bingo board #raven's halloween party #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #swampstew stories #swampstew bedtime stories #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #swampstew #tw monsterfucking #cw breeding

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mxlfoydraco · 2 years

Note

do you know any fics where harry is jealous of blaise cause he and draco are really close and/or touchy friends?

Thank u 😩

I can give you jealous Harry in general, adding on to this list Jealous Harry

Jealous Harry

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)

Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”

keep it down by warmfoothills (13k)

Malfoy’s an inconsiderately loud roommate and Harry’s over it.

If It Takes All Night by @tackytigerfic (10k)

It’s not the first time Harry’s been the victim of a botched curse (that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too. So they’re bonded. That’s ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm. But this isn’t going to be a problem for their friendship at all. Is it, Harry?

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

Make This Leap by @oflights (118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (99k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

You Know the Feeling by @sorrybutblog (12k)

Harry waits, but the hex never comes. In the mirror, Malfoy’s eyes dip shut, and he lets out a soft sound that goes right through Harry, heat rising in his body, pushing out against his chest. Malfoy turns slowly, careful not to dislodge Harry’s hand. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, then speaks, his voice low. “Don’t start something you won’t finish.” *** Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by @korlaena (140k)

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last?

Scaredy Cat by GallaPlacidia (53k)

Google drive link by @geesenoises

Draco is cursed and starts uncontrollably turning into a kitten whenever he's stressed. There is, of course, only one logical solution: he must move in with Harry until they figure out how to break the curse.

The Nightmare Club by @diligent-thunder (85k)

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn't. Harry hasn't decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he's responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don't worry, there's tea!

The Arrangement by @thegertie (65k)

It's worked for years. Why change it now?

Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants (33k)

Harry doesn’t know where he’s going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn’t even know where his map is. Who’d have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed? In which Harry’s trip to Norway to visit dragon-wrangler Ron introduces him to hikes from hell, mysterious natural magic, foraging, magical bathing, a new and bizarre friendship, and the frustrating, heady allure of his former nemesis turned sexy globetrotting field researcher.

Hook(Up) by @keyflight790 (5k)

Harry wasn't jealous. Not at all. He just wishes his damn assistant would focus on his fucking job rather than flirting with Zabini.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Graceless Heart by @orange-peony (132k)

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry. When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook. Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy. Things only get worse from there.

All the Small Things by @bafflinghaze (12k)

Harry didn't know why, but when he saw Ginny and Draco together being so friendly, he had these feelings that he just couldn't understand.

Time Will Tell by @digthewriter (6k)

Harry needed a place to crash and hide, Draco provided that and eventually, he provided more than just a sofa to sleep on. Harry found a way to Draco's bed, but will he ever be able to find his way into Draco's heart?

Constellation Prize by @andithiel (12k)

Harry’s been pining for his friend and Auror partner for almost a year. But despite what his friends say, he and Draco aren't an old married couple...Draco has a boyfriend, there's no way he'd ever be interested. Right?

Break-Up Sex by @gracerene (2k)

Harry doesn't miss the bond, but he does miss Draco.

Head in the Game by @samyistrying (16k)

Harry and Malfoy shagged. But it’s fine, Harry doesn’t have feelings for him or anything. Yet he isn’t too thrilled when Malfoy gets hired as a Sports Therapist for Harry’s team – Puddlemere United. Of course, he gives massages. And of course, Harry has to bear witness to Malfoy making player after player groan in pleasure.

The Matchmaker's Spell by @kbrick (20k)

Thanks to a spell cast over all of wizarding Britain, Draco is forced to marry Harry Potter, who still hates him. But Draco refuses to live a cold, sexless existence, choosing to fill the emptiness in his life and his bed with a parade of lovers. And while Harry may not be able to stand Draco, he despises seeing him with anyone else.

Historians by @oknowkiss (29k)

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (6k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

Peeking behind the Curtain by @wellhalesbells (23k)

Draco sees things he really, really wishes he didn't. If only to get out of all the homework that comes with it.

Take the Air by dysonrules (51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #drarry reclist #draco malfoy #drarry fic recs #my recs #fic recs #hpdm #harry potter #jealous harry

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silkjade-archived · 2 years

Note

hello!!! i really enjoy reading ur writing~ like, from the wedding dates post it was love at first read hehe pls keep it up!!

n e wayz, i just got back from a medical operation (it was successful!!) and would it be alright to request some hcs of how diluc, childe, itto, thoma, and al-haitham (separately) would take care of an s/o who’s recovering post-op??? no pressure ofco ^-^

glad your op was successful, anon! ^^ wishing you a smooth and speedy recovery!

genshin men taking care of you after a medical operation

⤀ Featuring— diluc, childe, itto, thoma, al-haitham (written pre-release)

⤀ gn!reader, modern au, mentions of medication, use of pet names (babe)

DILUC

he’s taking as much time off as he possibly can to spend with you. if he really can’t be home atm, he’s got his whole team of staff behind him so you’re never alone

the first few days might be rough because of the pain so he tries his best to keep your mind off of it by telling you embarrassing stories of himself, kaeya, and jean from when they were kids

if you need to just vent, diluc’s a great listener; he listens to all your complaints without offering any solutions so go off!

he changes your bandages with the tenderest of touches and places a feather light kiss on top when he’s finished

he isn't really one for television, but will watch with you if you are; who knows he might even get just a teeny tiny bit invested in the reality show you're watching. he doesn't mean to but he'd make the funniest comments (underrated comedian)

but.... he would enjoy doing puzzles with you like a 500 piece puzzle because the 1,000 piece ones can get kind of messy

his driver takes you to all your follow-up appointments so that he can stay with you in the back himself

when you’re well enough, he takes you on short strolls through his vineyard, with your arm linked through his and your head resting on his shoulder. it’s ok you can lean on him, he’s strong

CHILDE

this man has a big family, he is well versed in the art of caretaking. and yet they still show up with a ton of homemade food, remedies, supplies, etc because you’re basically already one of them

he’s actually really strict on making sure you follow discharge instructions, like anything that strays off, it’s:

“sorry, not until we get the doctor’s approval at your next appointment”

childe keeps you up-to-date with all the new tech stuff, so you guys basically have a smart room. ‘alexa dim the lights’ ; ‘alexa turn on the tv’ etc. and he definitely has all the streaming services so you never run out of things to watch

if you’d rather play video games, he’ll let you win without making it super obvious

some oral medications can be a pain to swallow so he makes sure to give you lots of little kisses as a reward

on the more difficult nights, he’ll lay in bed next to you, propped on an elbow with his other hand playing with your hair. it’s very calming especially when he hums and softly sings you snezhnayan lullabies

100% will cook and clean and do the dishes, but doesn’t really want to leave you alone while he goes to the store, so he’s been instacarting almost all your groceries. don’t worry about the expenses though, it’s on him he says as he pulls out his work credit card (it’s actually on pantalone; he texts you that he’ll turn a blind eye to these charges so consider it your ‘get well soon’ gift)

ITTO

itto is very eager to take care of you since it’s usually the other way around; he’s so grateful you trust him in such a vulnerable state, he just wants to do his best and show you how much he loves and appreciates you

....so he definitely wrote to ms. hina for advice the moment you scheduled your operation

before he goes in to pick you up, he’s in the hospital parking lot giving his boys a speech like

“be extra careful around them and mind what you say alright?” you know this because shinobu recorded it and sent it to you

of course they volunteered to help out with daily errands so that their boss can focus on taking care of you

he brings you flowers when picking you up and a silly little ‘get well soon’ card that makes you laugh because it has a dumb pun

to show solidarity, if you're on a strict dietary plan... he's on a strict dietary plan

your comfort is super important to him so it is a no judgment zone here; maybe you feel weird about things like going to the bathroom or taking sponge baths, but itto is sure to completely reassure you there’s nothing to be embarrassed about

“nothing to be worried about babe, it’s all part of the process. I know what I signed up for”

THOMA

he decorates your home as a surprise! just a little something to brighten it up since you’re going to be stuck indoors for awhile

pampers you and treats you like royalty. once you arrive home, all the house chores are already done, your pillows are fluffed, need anything? he’s at your beck and call

makes the best homemade meals— delicious, nutritious, and follows any dietary guidelines

also has some ready in the fridge to heat up just incase you get hungry while he’s out running errands

definitely bought those little pill boxes that have the days of the week on them so you have all your meds organized already. he refills them for you weekly too

he's good at reading your moods, so he can easily tell whether you want his company or whether you want some space; he doesn't mind either way, whatever you need

thoma is an overall very upbeat person and keeps a positive mindset, however... sometimes it can get a little...too much? a little overwhelming? but! he understands how frustrating the recovery process can be so he takes it like a champ when you get a little snappy with him

AL-HAITHAM

he’s a nerd and a perfectionist, he read up on everything; your procedure, any medications, side effects, recovery, etc and still bombards the doctors and nurses with questions

honestly he is a little nervous since you’re in a delicate state and he doesn’t have a lot of experience as a caretaker

makes you take your medications at the exact hour you’re supposed to; every 12 hours? he’s hounding you at 8am and 8pm sharp

shhh he doesn’t know this but you accidentally caught him on the phone with an old acquaintance from liyue, scribbling down the recipe for an herbal nourishing soup

on your better days, he pampers you by not letting you skip your nightly skincare routine and even applies it for you

can be a bit of a mother hen which is a pretty stark contrast to his usual, more aloof personality. it’s a mental game you’re playing with yourself, counting the amount of times he peeps in to check on you

finally you call him over and he does the thing where he kneels by your bedside to hear what you have to say

“can you just…lay here with me for a bit…?”

and so he does and tells you about his research and projects until he realizes you’ve fallen asleep

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liberaljane · 2 years

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Today marks #WorldAIDSDay, a time to show support for people living with #HIV and those who lost their lives to AIDS.

First commemorated in 1988, World AIDS Day raises awareness to end the spread of HIV and the stigma and discrimination that surrounds it.

Despite the progress made, HIV is still a major public health threat globally. In 2021, there were 1.5 million new HIV infections. In particular, girls in sub-Saharan Africa continue to be disproportionately affected by HIV, accounting for 63% of the region's new HIV infections in 2021.

However, it's important to know that in our modern era, people with HIV live long and happy lives thanks to access to antiretroviral therapy (ART). People living with HIV deserve care, not punishment.

To end AIDS, we must look and address underlying inequalities. Solutions include:

Increase availability of HIV testing, treatment and prevention (such as PrEP).

Reform laws and policies that perpetuate the stigma and exclusion of people living with HIV.

Ensure equal access to the best HIV science, between the Global South and North.

Collaboration with UNFPA

[Digital illustration of a Black fem with long curly hair. She’s wearing a white shirt that reads, “Living with HIV doesn't define me.” She’s also wearing gray jeans, a red ribbon and a black choker necklace. Behind her is a sky of gray clouds and a moon.]

#art #feminism #feminist #global health #HIV/AIDS #hiv #sti #sex ed #world aids day #aids #public health #health justice #feminist art

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 7 months

Note

Hey! This is extremely late but I feel like you'd adore this prompt.

Character study: Ed's beard caused sensory issues, required tedious upkeep, and was a source of performative masculinity. Finally, he's shaving it, and seeing "Ed" for the first time in decades. Super healing, cute, positive 💜

You're right, I absolutely adored this prompt!! This took a minute because I wound up going in a completely different direction at first, wasn't satisfied with it, and it sat in my drafts, and now I actually fuckin' love it. This one's set in a modern AU with a trans Ed, because that's a delicious little wrinkle. Bon appétit.

(Never too late to send me prompts for 1k word fics, by the way! I can't promise they'll all get done but if they inspire me, I'll do 'em eventually. These are great for writer's block)

No one could accuse Ed Teach of disliking hair care.

That was something his mama had instilled in him from a young age. His hair was also his pride in his heritage, in where he came from, and taking care of it was an important way Ed could take care of himself and stay true to himself. His worst argument with Stede, to date, was over which of them was taking up too much space on their shared bathroom counter with all the hair care products (they’d wound up putting up more shelving). The first time he’d let Stede help him wash his hair, after Stede had listened through Ed’s explanations of his hair care, was probably one of the most intimate moments he’d ever shared with another man.

His beard, though. That was a different story.

Ed didn’t hate the beard, most days. It had started out as a band-aid solution when he’d been struggling to be taken seriously with his baby face, and he’d wanted to prove he was as much a man as anyone.

Then he’d grown up, and he’d stopped looking like he’d just glued a few random hairs to his chin, and it became…him. It was big and striking and masculine.

“You know,” he’d confided in Stede a few nights ago, cuddled up under the covers together, one thigh and an arm thrown over Stede’s middle while Stede traced little patterns over Ed’s bare hip with a forefinger, “I don’t even like the beard.”

Stede blinked down at him. “You don’t…like your beard?”

“Honestly?” Ed ran his fingers through it. He liked how soft it was, liked putting little bows in it, liked how everyone saw him and knew without a doubt he was a man. “It’s itchy, and it’s easy for things to get stuck in it, and it makes my face all hot, and hair gets in my mouth, and -”

“Hm,” Stede said, shifting his hand up to scritch his fingers along Ed’s jaw, and Ed leaned into the touch. “You don’t have to keep it.”

It was Ed’s turn to pause in surprise.

“But I’m Blackbeard,” he said, a bit lamely.

“You can be whoever you want to be, beard or no,” Stede shrugged. “I’ll love you just the same, with or without it.”

Huh.

This morning, Ed woke up early, plugging in Stede’s electric razor and locking the bathroom door behind him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted Stede to be part of this moment, but…he hadn’t seen his whole face in literal decades.

He wanted his reaction to be his and his alone.

Ed hesitated before he could touch the razor to his face for the first time. What would everyone think? He’d literally named his entire brand after this thing.

He took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought. It was about what Ed wanted. He could do what he wanted with his own body to help himself feel more himself and more comfortable.

At the very least, he told himself, it would save him time in the mornings. You don’t keep a beard that big looking that good without a very time-consuming beard care regimen.

He used a hand mirror as he worked, looking at himself at too close an angle to be able to see his full face before he was ready for that. When he splashed water on his face, he shivered at the coolness of it against his sensitive skin.

He swept up all the clippings, taking care to avoid looking into the mirror over the sink. “Bye-bye, Blackbeard,” he whispered, tipping the clippings into the trash can.

Ed took a deep breath. Stede had said he’d love him, no matter what. He lifted his head, and he saw -

Oh.

His first reaction was that he looked a lot like his mother. He’d started trying to grow his beard out right after he’d first started taking T, and he hadn’t even realized how scared he was that he’d shave his beard off and see his dad under there until he got to see the opposite was true. He had a sharper jawline, but the rest was all her.

And he’d been scared he wouldn’t look enough like a man without it, too, but he looked…pretty, actually, and literally fine. He’d probably want to keep at least some stubble, because he really did just like how affirming facial hair was, but this was proof that he didn’t need the full beard to look like a man. He was a man, no matter what he looked like - the beard had just been his way of daring anyone to tell him otherwise.

“Hey, Ed,” he whispered, watching in the mirror as he brought his hands up to feel, tracing new wrinkles, soft skin, birthmarks and little freckles he’d long forgotten.

It shocked a quiet giggle out of him when he realized how nice it would be, to eat food without worrying about something getting into his beard. How nice it would be to feel soft things against his cheek, to -

There was an idea!

Ed darted out of the bathroom and practically launched himself back into bed, grabbing Stede’s hand to hold it against his face. He shivered in delight - Stede had touched his face before, of course, but he’d never felt it so clearly, his soft palms and warm fingers against his cheek.

“Mmf,” Stede mumbled, burying his face in the pillows in protest against being woken up.

“Babe!” Ed collapsed down onto his side so he could snuggle close and rub his clean-shaven cheek against Stede’s.

“Wh-aah!” Stede yelped as he opened his eyes to see Ed like three inches away. “Your beard fell off!”

“Shaved it,” Ed corrected, looking away. He hadn’t expected Stede to fucking scream at him -

Stede reached out, gently, cupping Ed’s chin to tilt his face for a better look. “Oh, Ed,” he whispered. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

Yeah, Ed thought with satisfaction. He sure fuckin’ was.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

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sunny-speaks · 1 year

Text

Smartass

Characters: Academic Rival! Ren @14dayswithyou x reader

Okay, but I have been an academic rivals to lovers stan for far too long, y’all don’t understand…

So like, this au would totally have redacted still the same as Canon! Redacted, he’d just be like… more open to the MC? And it’d be in an academic setting??? Like he developed some self-esteem solutions and got more confident in being himself, still having subtle mannerisms of character traits you enjoyed… but more him

Like… he went to therapy so he could be better for you before you even knew him, cause you said some bullshit like they were no good looking guys in the world who didn’t have therapy, cause there’s nothing hotter than a mentally stable guy. (i mean, you’re all here because you love a stable guy, right… ;] )

But yeah, now you just know him as that snarky ass, dark-haired with pink tips ‘genius’ in your university ‘psychology in modern media’ class.

Warnings and whatnot: lolol NSFW implications so minors DNI, a decent amount of swearing on my part, I'd say?

Another flawless assignment completed for you. Whoo! It was a nice day to be smart!

To be fair, you had pored over that goddamn presentation for hours before going to sleep, so if you hadn’t done well, you probably would’ve bust a pipe over some unlucky guy’s head.

You grinned seeing the big 95 on your paper. You spent so long detailing the moral complications between the character relationships as you gutted the root problems for each of the character flaws and how that showed in their bonds with others.

Unfortunately, you had the (dis)pleasure of being seated to [REDACTED], the class self-proclaimed genius.

God, you hated him.

You were pretty sure you hated him more because he was so stupidly hot. You could clearly see his chiseled stone abs when he wore those clingy, black compression shirts! And paired with gray fucking sweatpants?

He knew what he was doing… And it was to mess up your game!

I mean, seriously, what was the lecturer doing, seating you next to this second coming of Michelangelo?! It’s almost like she had something personal against you!

(the lecturer was in fact, very for the both of you getting together. You both were smart, maybe you’d find a way to increase [REDACTED]’s grades…)

You never noticed him all that much in the beginning of the year. He brooded in his own corner, never noticed by anyone in those dumb black baggy hoodies.

But the minute he sat next to you, all of a sudden he realized he was hot stuff???

Okay, sure there, bro. He needed to chill out.

All of a sudden, he went from a lonely loser, to some hot genius within like the span of a day.

You didn’t get it.

But to be fair, you didn’t remember telling your good friend Moth how you started having things for hot but smart guys and guys who could actually stand a battle of wits… But that was for [REDACTED] to remember, and you to forget.

He leaned over your shoulder, a lazy smirk gracing his features. “95, not bad, angel.”

Agh! That stupid nickname! It was supposed to be something intimate, something reserved for lovers and such, but he insisted on using it to berate your grades!

He slid his paper over with a big 96 on it. “But not good enough.”

Of course. He had to have known that he was doing an in depth character analysis on the teachers favorite character and played to all the teachers preferences in the character and was spouting self-servient bullshit!

…But his presentation was well done, you had to admit. Normal people wouldn’t notice because you pay an unhealthy amount to any flaws in his looks, but he must’ve studied hard, he had huge eyebags during his presentation…

How would you know it’s because he thought your frustrated face was so cute when you kept thinking of ideas for your presentation that he completely forgot he had to impress the teacher to impress you?

Honestly, [REDACTED] cared more that he was on your mind in any way, even if that was because he acted like a ‘suck-up’ because he was too busy watching you.

“Hope you haven’t forgotten the many times I’ve beaten you academically, [REDACTED]. Or are you losing your memory because you’ve been sitting with a godsend this whole time? Sorry, didn’t mean for my heavenly powers to warp with your memory.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“Then, you’re sure living up to your title, angel.” He snorted and went back to looking towards the front before muttering something under his breath. “...But your presentation was good, dork.”

In shock at the compliment, you stood there with your mouth open.

He glanced back over at you, “What? Is it so hard to believe that you did well on our midterm presentation?” he huffed to himself in disbelief before a grin made its way to his face. “Sitting there with your mouth open? It’s like you want someone to kiss that dumb look off your face.”

He thought the comment would shake you out of your stupor, make you come back with a feisty comment.

But no, you sat there, thinking about all the implications of that statement. …What if he kissed you? But he has so many piercings… He has a tongue piercing, snakebites, honestly, your mouth would feel like a jewelry store with the amount of silver in it…

But he looked like a fuckboy, would he be good at kissing?

Wait, hold up, no, no, no. Dude, you gotta remember…

He was a loser up until now.

If that’s the way he’d been his whole life, he’s probably never even kis—

And if that realization wasn’t enough for you to drop your jaw, nothing ever would.

[REDACTED] could only stare at you in mild surprise as your mouth opened… even more. He slowly blinked at you, a mock-scandalized look on his face, “What, you really want someone to kiss you that bad? You volunteering to be kissed, angel?”

You immediately let go all thoughts of kissing that gorgeous jerk in favor of heat rising to your face, “Nope. I’m good.”

He pushed and prodded a little more, “What, you never kissed anyone before?” He actually wasn’t quite sure. The early years when he didn’t know how to hack anything and couldn’t follow you were blank spaces in your life to him.

You muttered a curse under your breath and turned away from him without denying his question.

Although you couldn’t see it, his whole face lit up with hope. Oh, he was going to be your first kiss! He couldn’t wait! He internallly coughed at his eagerness.

He had to court you first before the two of you could become anything.

He looked back at your lecturer who had been picking on students who had to read out full paragraphs of their analysis on a TV Show that followed the messy plot of a coming of age, romance drama.

And also, clearly, leaving the two of you alone. He hushedly whispered to you, “Wait, are you serious, angel?”

You grumbled into the palm of your hand before slowly turning to him, “unfortunately… yes. I haven’t kissed anyone yet. But turns out this university is full of jerks and dumbasses…”

You paused. Well, maybe not all jerks and dumbasses. “Guess there’s a couple guys in the music department that are cool.”

Murder flashed through [REDACTED]’s mind thinking of you asking them out before putting on a strained smile, “So where do I fit in, hm?”

“I dunno…” You hadn’t put too much thought towards [REDACTED]. Sure, he was hot. But he was kind of a prick.

But he did respect your gender identity…

And he never went too far, making sure he didn’t cross any lines or boundaries…

And he gave you that academic rival that you’d been search―

…Oh my god.

He was your academic rival.

You loved rivals to lovers… Was this a sign? You got a hot rival, who respects you, your boundaries, your intellect and he was hot?!

Okay, maybe you had dreamed about him on a couple of weird occasions, but dreams don’t mean anything!

Is what you would say if you were in denial.

Oh dear, did you like him?!

You gave him a quick once over, looking at all the piercings on his ears and face as your eyes trailed to his shirt which clung tightly to his skin, all defined abs and muscles on display.

Hold up! Were those body cutouts on his top around his hips that you saw?! Fuck, those were hot…

Your eyes trailed a little bit lower to his pants… and shit, he was packing… There was no way in hell he was allowed to be that big, in height and in… length.

Ugh, your thoughts made you shudder a little. No way you were thirsting over a guy you were just fighting.

…But it wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for sure…

Okay, so maybe you had not-so-subtly eyed your seatmate like he was a piece of meat.

But he enjoyed the attention! He loved you drinking him up like he was just a pretty thing. But he was your pretty thing… Some random girls keep trying to ask him out, but he doesn’t want them. He wants you. But most importantly, he wants you to want him too.

“What, cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He teased, using something other than angel as a nickname.

“Wh-Whatever, [REDACTED]. Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and took your attention off of him before whispering something under your breath.

“Angel, you gotta speak up.”

You grimaced, “I guess you go into the alright department. Luckily for you, you’re the only one there. You seem to be the only one I know who’s cool enough to handle me around here.”

He blinked, looking at you in subtle reverence, “A whole department for me, angel? Thank you.” He laced it with an edge of sarcasm but internally, he couldn’t have been more happy.

He was the only one there that you tolerated! The only one you liked.

You. Chose. Him.

#yandere x reader #✨ full fic #14 days with you #14dwy ren #ren x reader #ren 14 days with you

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macravishedbymactavish · 1 year

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Take Off Your Colours (Alex Keller x F!Reader)

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare Masterlist | 18+ MDNI |

TW for alcohol consumption and intoxication, oral sex (M receiving), it's been forever since I've written anything remotely smutty so be gentle

Leaning back into the cushions of the tattered couch, you listened to the mindless chatter amongst your friend and the guy she had started chatting with.

"You look bored" a familiar voice commented, the cushion beside you sinking as Alex sat beside you. "I thought the point of a party was to have fun"

Rolling your eyes, you took another sip of your drink. The alcohol warming your system as you hummed softly. Glancing at your friend from the corner of your eye, you gave him a half hearted shrug. Smirking when he mimicked the gesture.

"What does that even mean?" He chuckled, letting his head fall back against the couch. Your eyes tracing over the curves of his throat, alcohol blurring the boundaries as your eyes traced over the curves. Thoughts moving toward what it would feel like to press kisses against the skin.

No.

Focusing on the liquid in your cup, you swirled the liquid around. How good it would feel to lose some self-control..

"Stop thinking so loud," Alex groaned from beside you, lolling his head to look over at you with a raised brow. "It's a party, let loose."

"Might need you to show me how" you teased, finishing off your drink in one large sip. Elbow now resting on the back of the couch, your body turned toward where he sat. A lazy smile pulling at his lips as he gave you the same shrug from earlier.

Eyes scanning over his face, and down to where he held his own drink on his thigh. You bit the inside of your lip and pulled yourself off the couch. Excusing yourself for another drink.

A couple drinks later, you found yourself back in the same position on the couch. Face warm as you leaned in close to your friend, the two of you whispering back and forth.

"I doubt you've ever done anything impulsive" Alex teased with a snort, taking a long sip of his beer. "When's the last time you got laid?"

You open and closed your mouth a couple times, desperately trying to come up with a retort. Your mind already buzzing with alcohol, now screaming under his amused gaze.

"I can't remember the last time I got laid either. If that helps." Another shrug and sip of his drink as you looked him up and down.

No.

"Sounds like we both have a problem with an easy solution."

Head falling back against the door with a quiet thump, a soft moan escaping his lips. Eyes rolling back, as he placed a hand delicately in your hair. Not applying any pressure, just making sure you don't stop.

The soft sounds coming from his throat, the feeling of his large palm resting on the back of your head, and the subtle soreness of your jaw had your head spinning.

This couldn't be reality.

Flattening your tounge, you slowly pushed forward. Eyes cast up toward his as you took more of him. Pulling back slowly, humming as his fingers threaded into your hair. Urging you back. A silent plea to keep going.

Letting a long breath out through your nose, you bobbed your head. Slowly picking up the pace as you heard him utter a soft oh fuck under his breath.

Hips jerking forward involuntarily, he moaned a soft apology. Eyes meeting yours before he breathlessly asked, "Can I?"

When you shifted your weight back onto your legs, hands bracing onto his legs; he swore he died and ended up in somewhere resembling his own personal heaven. Cautiously, he pressed forward, moaning your name softly.

"If you ever want to stop, or need a break let me know. I'll stop, no questions asked." Pulling away, you nodded quickly with a small smile. Pupils dilated, eyes filled with lust.

"You're too damn good to me" he whispered, caressing your cheek softly before slipping into your open mouth. Hand moving to find purchase on the back of your head, as his hips rocked forward.

He soon found a steady rhythm, remaining careful not to push you too far. Moans and gasps escaping shamelessly as he worked himself to climax.

"Fuck" he hissed, pace picking up as his core tightened. Your eyes watered, as your thighs pressed together. The sounds he was making, and the feeling of him on your tounge.

This couldn't be reality.

"Gonna cum" he warned, eyes meeting yours once again. A silent confirmation that you were okay with this.

A few more quick thrusts, followed by a soft moan from the both of you he pulled away. Quickly slipping his pants back up before crouching to your level.

Panting slightly, he reached forward and pressed a warm kiss to your forehead. Thumbs wiping at the stray tears on your cheeks, head tilting in curiosity when he was met by your amused expression.

"Friendships over I take it?" You laughed, biting your lip as he rolled his eyes. A pink hue taking over his cheeks.

"Stop talking." He laughed softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth as he pulled you up off the floor. Eyes darting between you and the rest of the room, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt.

Biting your lip gently, tugging at the front of his shirt and pulling him back with you. Softly whispering:

"My turn"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @gcing-back-to-505

#call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2019 #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty fanfic #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x reader smut #alex keller smut #cod alex #call of duty modern warfare 2019

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fruitymocha · 11 months

Text

Laboratory of Love

Starring: Idia as The Creation, Ortho as The Assistant, and You as The Mad Scientist

Warnings: Yandere themes, mental instability, mentions of corpses and general post-mortem shit, violence/violent tendencies, murder, and psychological torment (both self inflicted and from an outside source). I DO NOT CONDONE ANYONE’S ACTIONS IN THIS STORY. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND SHOULD NOT BE EMULATED. DNI IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 16, ARE EASILY FRIGHTENED, OR DO NOT LIKE DARK/YANDERE THEMES.

A/N: you guys! As of writing this author’s note, Little Songbird has over 90 likes! Thank you guys so much for the interactions, it means a lot, especially since I was kinda worried it wouldn’t be received well when I first posted it. Also yes, I know it’s been a year, but it’s fine, just go with it. This literally has been sitting in my drafts collecting dust since last October, so it’s about time I resurrect this thing (yes this is a purposeful joke). I hope that you guys enjoy Laboratory of Love just as much as Little Songbird, and without further ado…

Round and round we rewind the reel…

Y/N L/N. That is my name. My mission is to investigate the world of the living and find the spark of life.

Unfortunately, the people outside are cold and unyielding to modern science. They are stuck in their old ways, believing my research and experiments to be… sacrilegious.

Hence why my secret lab is hidden away in an abandoned tower. It’s close enough to the city that I can easily acquire modern equipment and resources, but also foreboding enough to keep people away. Or did my reputation do that for me? Who knows.

“Ortho, have you acquired the book?”

“Yes Doctor. The Book of Shadows, as you requested,” The young boy handed me a thick leather book, his fiery blue hair flickering in child-like joy.

“Thank you, Ortho,”

“You’re welcome, Doctor,” I flipped through the pages, hoping to find its alchemy section. “Doctor, do you think science and magic are compatible?”

“There’s only one way to find out, Ortho, and you know what it is,”

“Aren’t you worried about what could happen if you use dark magic?” I sighed.

“Ortho, we’ve been over this,” I said, focused on the alchemical symbols in the Book of Shadows. “I don’t believe in ‘dark’ magic. There’s no such thing as ‘light’ or ‘dark’. Society simply deems ‘light’ to be the ‘safe’ and acceptable type of magic, while ‘dark’ is more dangerous and selfish. But if humanity never trifled with danger, we would never be where we are today. We would still be at Nature’s mercy,”

“I understand now, Doctor. But please be careful!”

“You know I will, Ortho. They may call me mad as much as they want, but I have no death wish. I know how to take precaution,”

Ortho. Another societal outcast. Allegedly cursed with his fiery hair, and considered a bad omen. They said his blue locks were from the fires of Hell. So I took him in as my assistant, and I found him to be quite curious and inclined to help. A perfect job for him. Society may call me many things, but to call me cruel would be untrue.

“Doctor, what do you plan to do?”

“Learn the ways of Nature, and acquire that power for myself,” I said simply

“…why?” I thought about it hard. Then I knew.

“My time in university could not satisfy my thirst, so I will seek out the solution myself,”

“It’s only been a few months since your graduation, Doctor,”

“Yes, and that means all my higher education is still somewhat fresh in my mind, Ortho. It will help me,” I stared off for a moment before something struck me as odd.

“I still don’t understand why you call me Doctor, Ortho… I have not earned a doctorate degree,” I said slowly

“Because I think you deserve the title, Doctor,”

I closed the Book of Shadows, and silently turned to the setting sun out the window.

“Ortho?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

I thought for a moment. Am I sure I want to do this?

I sighed, and said it anyway.

“Where is the nearest cemetery?”

~*~

“Are you sure we won’t get caught, Doctor?”

“To be quite frank with you Ortho, getting caught is a very real possibility. If you’re not up for the risk, you can go back to the lab-”

“No. I- I want to help you,” I sighed while looking at the blue-haired boy.

“Okay. Let’s find some corpses,” I handed Ortho the smaller of the two shovels I brought. “Let’s get digging,” I walked in a random direction, with Ortho following close behind, looking for recently dead, young male bodies.

First Gravestone

We dug down and inspected his body. Unfortunately he wasn’t a good candidate. He died of plague.

Second gravestone

He was missing chunks of skin.

Third gravestone

His head was smashed, face unrecognizable.

Finally, we reached the fourth gravestone. We dug with less enthusiasm and more difficulty than when we started. But all the effort was worth it. The body was tall, skin sallow, head shaved. But his body was unmarked by plague or brutality. He was not rotting… yet.

“He’s perfect,” I whispered to myself.

Ortho and I loaded the corpse onto a wheelbarrow, but not before wrapping it in inconspicuous cloth tied together with rope.

We were lucky not to get caught.

As we made our way back to the lab tower, I thought about what I would do with the body. Create a puppet, perhaps?

No.

Better.

Create a sentient being.

Ambitious, but The Book of Shadows would likely have the power I need.

Now all I needed to do was find the right spell, get the materials, and do what needed to be done.

~*~

With the corpse strapped on the gurney, attached tubes and wires connecting to monitors and rudimentary electrical machines, and Book of Shadows in hand, I was ready to commence my ambitious experiment.

Thunder rumbled and rain pelted outside. I paid it no mind. I had drawn the sigils in my own blood and placed them on different areas of the body, just as instructed. Blood sigils were also drawn and dried upon my palms. Keeping the book open, I read aloud the incantation.

“Withering Corpse, cold as night

Your early death has caused you strife

I avenge your soul, I’ll make it right

I give your body the gift of life”

A blue glow began to radiate within the room, and I could feel the surge of power coursing through my veins.

The rain pelted. I paid it no mind.

The body in front of me became surrounded in a magical blue glow.

The wind shrieked. I paid it no mind.

The sigils on my palms thrummed and the drawn sigils on the corpse pulsed like beating hearts. Ortho looked on in amazement.

The thunder roared. I paid it no mind.

Any signs of the corpse’s state of death seemed to disappear, instead in a seemingly peaceful slumber.

But then lightning struck through the glass ceiling, and I did pay it mind as it struck the body.

A smaller, stray ray of lightning struck me too, and the last thing I remember was the pain of hitting the ground, and getting rained on by rainwater and broken glass.

~*~

I awoke to the sound of soft rain and Ortho by my side.

“Dr Y/N please wake up!”

I opened my eyes to see that I was in one of the spare hospital beds in my laboratory. I got out of bed, much to Ortho’s shock and worry. When my feet touched the ground, a small shock coursed through my body, and I convulsed briefly.

“Dr Y/N you need to rest, you were struck by lightning!”

“Ortho I must see him!”

Ortho sighed, but reluctantly handed me a wooden staff. I suppose it should do as a walking stick. With the stick’s support on my dominant side, and Ortho staying close by my other side, I shuffled my way to the Enrichment Room.

The Enrichment Room was a room co-designed by Ortho and I, meant for intellectual stimulation without putting too much strain. A less sophisticated way of referring to it would be The Brain Break Room. It was filled with leisure novels, puzzles, riddle books, and other activities that require some form of focus and thought.

Sitting there on the ground in a strange and twisted position, fiddling with a metal handheld puzzle, was The Creation. Instead of normal hair, he had long, blue fire, very much similar to Ortho’s. Hair from the depths of hell. His eyes were striking yellow, not unlike Ortho’s. His skin was still quite sallow, but at the very least it wasn’t post-mortem pale like it was just hours before. His mouth was slightly open, exposing his pointed teeth. Ortho also had pointed teeth, a fact I had grown accustomed to as he stepped into the role as my lab assistant.

I decided to attempt to carefully approach The Creation.

“Hello,” I said.

He looked up at me with wide, curious eyes.

“I’m the one who gave you life. You can call me Y/N,”

The Creation put down the metal puzzle and reached out a hand. The fingers were spread wide in an awkward position. It seemed that The Creation was struggling with fine motor skills. I took his hand, only for him to pull me down with him, walking stick rolling off to the side. His physical strength was remarkable! He stared, fascinated at my dominant arm, which bore red, jagged, bruise-like marks from the lightning strike. He then placed his palm on my upper arm, his own arm completely outstretched in a strange position.

“We should give him a name, Dr Y/N,” Ortho said, coming closer to The Creation. I looked into his eyes. Unaware, void of knowledge or experience, but curious.

“Ortho, I think when the time is right, he should choose his own name,”

The Creation croaked out a deep noise from his throat. I supposed he was trying to talk like Ortho and I. His existence is fascinating indeed.

When I went back to bed, I heard the creaking of footsteps, and Ortho speaking, though it sounded muffled as this was happening on the other side of the door, far from the bed.

“…be careful…need rest…tomorrow…this way…”

I turned to my side in bed, and I tried to relax so I could focus properly tomorrow. However, that proved to be quite difficult. Breakthroughs and discoveries wait for no one.

~*~

As the days went by, I noticed that The Creation had taken an interest in my work just as Ortho had. Occasionally, I would ask him to retrieve items or hold something. Otherwise, he spent many of his days in the Enrichment Room playing with the various handheld puzzles. One by one, he’s started to solve them, and I wonder just how intelligent he is.

I was just about to open one of the ingredient containers when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. The Creation looked over my shoulder, hunched, and maintaining that gloomy default expression.

“What is it?” I asked him. He pointed to Ortho, who spoke for him.

“He wants to learn how to talk,”

I looked at him for a moment, but then smiled to myself, shaking my head.

“Of course you do. And I would be more than happy to help,” I said to The Creation.

He smiled, in his own awkward, sharp-toothed way. It was charming, in its own way (though most of society would likely beg to differ).

And so, I taught him how to speak.

~*~

Weeks went by as I taught him how to be human. He learned to read. He learned to write. He soon mastered all the puzzles I had, and contented himself with disassembling and reassembling things in his free time.

He named himself Idia.

And he treated Ortho like a brother.

“Y/N,”

“Yes, Idia?” I asked, studying the Book of Shadows once more.

“I have come across this concept of ‘love’. What does it mean to love?”

I halted my study for a moment, turning to him. “Love can be many things. There is love for your family. There is love for your friends,”

“I mean romance, Y/N,”

“…that is something you will come to know when you meet someone very special,” I said finally.

“Is there anyone you love like that?”

“…in university, I knew someone, yes. That person is long gone from my life now,”

Idia stayed silent. I returned to my studies, disheartened by the conversation, and wanting to distract myself.

“…will I find someone to love me?” He asked.

I thought for a moment on how to respond.

“…I…don’t know,”

“Why not?”

“The outside world is not kind. It has not been kind to me, or to Ortho. They don’t be kind to you either,” I said, perhaps a bit harshly.

Idia did not respond anymore.

When I had time to look up from what I was doing, he was already gone.

~*~

A year has gone by since Idia’s creation. And he’s become something of a mechanical genius. He’s now the one who builds and fixes my machinery. How convenient.

But as the seasons have passed, he has become increasingly attached. Perhaps not healthy behavior. But what am I to do? His hair is blue like the flames of hell. He would be an outcast before anyone ever gave him a chance.

I felt the autumn breeze coming in through a window.

“Ortho, please close the window”

The window did slam shut. But when I looked up, it was not Ortho who shut the window.

“Idia? What brings you into the lab?”

“I’ve read more books. About love,”

“…And?”

“I want someone to love me. Make me my other half,”

“Idia, creating Life is not a simple task. Do you know what happened the night I created you? You got struck by lightning and so did I. If I do it again, especially in inclement weather, it’s very possible something could go wrong. Do you know how hard it is to find a body undamaged? Unravaged by plague? No part of this process is easy, Idia,”

“I don’t care how hard it is.” He said firmly. “Make me a lover, or I’ll make my own,”

I swallowed. It felt like my mouth was stuffed with cotton. He was serious.

“…alright. I’ll see what I can do,”

“You have one week,”

And with that, he left the lab.

~*~

It was considerably more difficult to find the second body. But I managed.

…but guilt was slowly consuming me. Idia was my best creation. A lovely, fascinating, raw creation. Proof of my conquering of Life.

But I couldn’t do it again.

So I took the body with me, and I used a rowboat to get to the center of the lake.

It was there that I dumped the sacrilegious body. I watched the corpse sink below the tides, never to be rediscovered.

I felt relief for once. Despite Idia’s threat before, I felt relief that I disposed of that body.

That relief was very short lived, and before I realized what was happening, I blacked out.

~*~

When I awoke, I was strapped to a gurney. Ortho looked at me, concerned.

“Doctor, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him,”

Idia emerged from the shadows, wearing my lab coat and protective gear.

“I told you I would make my own lover. And guess what, Y/N? I have,”

“Who did you hurt?!”

“I didn’t go into the town, don’t worry. They are stuck in their old ways. Unyielding to modernity. Unwilling to embrace progress. But you were,” he smiled his sinister, shark toothed smile. He and Ortho looked like brothers. But knowing what my dear creation has become, that comparison felt unfair.

The restraints on the gurney unlatched, and I stumbled off.

There was an unnatural pallor to my skin.

My limbs were somewhat rigid.

Something was wrong.

I scrambled around, looking for a reflective surface. I needed to know what happened. And I found a small handheld mirror. There was dried blood on my head. My skin was unnaturally blanched.

My eyes held the blue flames of hell.

“Idia…what have you done?”

“…I only meant to knock you unconscious. I am much stronger than I thought. But it’s okay, I found your Book of Shadows. I fixed it,”

I looked at him intensely.

“…you learned from the Book of Shadows?”

“Yes,”

“…and it worked…you…you’re incredible…” I said in awe.

“Doctor, what does this mean?”

“…It means Idia, my creation, has become a creator” I said.

“Just as you reshaped me and gave me new life, I have done the same to you, Doctor Y/N,” Idia smiled a satisfactory smile. He had made me into a creation. Like him. It had finally dawned on me. He remade me in his image. The “lover” he made was me.

And I laughed. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. Until I forgot why I was laughing. Until I started to cry as I laughed. I laughed such a laugh they would have called me mad.

Well, they already did before.

Maybe they were right.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

As long as we all held the blue flames of hell in our bodies and souls, none of it mattered.

~Fin~

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