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painted-flag · 4 months ago

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OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 3: A Study in Death

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.2k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ you begin to settle into your new position in the kingdom and forge tentative friendships.

It was disorienting, waking up in another bed. You had been shown to your room by Helaeana before she went off to sleep herself and it had taken hours for your mind to calm down enough to sleep. Your room was at ground level and made from the same combination of roots and black stone as the rest of the castle. It was larger than your entire home combined. There was a main living space with the most comfortable furniture you had ever sat in. It was all nature-oriented, with hues of green being the preferred choice of colour for decoration.

The living space was separated by a rise in the floor by a few steps, where your bed was placed horizontally next to a wide set of windows. A desk was placed in front of the windows, along with a bookshelf next to it. There were few books, but you knew with the items you packed it would fill up a good portion of space. Your view was of the palace gardens, where plants and flowers of all types bloomed even under the dark cover of the elder trees.

Your bed was four posters made of dark oak, all intricately carved in forest imagery. Sheer white fabric draped down on all ends, cocooning you in. Your sleep came slowly as you had tossed and turned for hours the night before. You were in a strange land, surrounded by strange people, with a king who clearly did not like you and had a penchant for killing those he disliked. Naturally, calm had not come to you.

You had been in a state of being between sleep and awake when soft rapping sounded on your door. Your eyes shot open and you looked around your room. You scrambled out of the silken sheets of your bed and stood in the room, unsure of what to do. You were in a nightrobe that had been given to you, its gentle caress of fabric brushed against your skin.

“C-come in.” You called out. The door opened and two elves walked in. One who stood on the right was dressed in a light powder pink dress of fine silk with sheer fabric on top that complimented her brown skin with cool undertones. The pink gown had gold embellishments that matched the jewelry draped from her ears and neck. The pink jewel that rested between her collarbones reflected the low lights of your room. Her hair was pin straight and decorated with gold ornaments in waterfall braids that formed a low crown on her head.

Her companion was dressed in lavender, which happened to be the same style as the pink one. Her pale skin was littered with light and dark freckles that looked like the shimmering fireflies that occupied the grounds outside. Her hair was not done up like her friend's but was curly and a deep amber like the honey you would buy from the market back home.

You knew there was no getting used to the awe-inspiring looks of the elves. A year here or not, each time meeting one would come with a moment of shock you were sure not to get used to.

The red-haired one stepped forward, “Good morrow. I’m Amara and this is Liriel,” She gestured to her companion, “We’re to be your handmaids for the time you are here.”

“Handmaids?” You questioned. You did not think, other than the lodgings you were given, that any other kindness would be extended your way.

The other elleth pitched in, “We are here to fetch things you need, get you ready in the mornings, and provide company.” That was the nail in the coffin for you. They would provide company for you, a kinder way of saying that everything you did and said was being watched and would be reported to the king. This was Aemond’s way of exerting even more control over you. It was not surprising in the least, but it still made you uncomfortable.

Another servant stepped through with a silver tray of food; breads, fruits, and cheeses. Your stomach made a slight noise and you became painfully aware of how long it had been since you last ate. The tray was placed down on the table and next to a clear glass pitcher full of water and some matching glass chalices. You moved to inspect the food while Amara and Liriel sat down on one of the couches. They gestured for you to join them and you did, choosing a spot on a chair positioned across from them.

“Once you’re finished eating, we can get you ready for the day,” Liriel spoke. She shifted her gaze to the large dark oak wardrobe resting against the wall behind you. You had opened it last night to see dozens of fine dresses in a variety of colours and sizes, obviously planned to try and fit the needs of any random guest. However, you doubted the word guest could accurately describe your situation - a prisoner with special privileges felt more like it.

“Oh! I cannot wait to style your hair. I’ve never done a human’s before.” Amara smiled as she reached out to pluck a cherry from the tray. You were resigned to eating in silence while the two elves chatted away, talking about what it is like to live in the castle. You paid attention but were also focused on the underlying message in your conversation with them. While you had yet to meet many elves, there was always a secret unspoken point when they spoke to you.

The aspect of your humanness was treated like an oddity. It was something rare and unique to gawk at for a moment before one would become bored and disregard it. You believed yourself to be nothing more than an object displayed on a shelf; meant for entertainment and nothing more.

You plopped a piece of cheese in your mouth and despite it being delicious, your thoughts bittered the taste.

It had taken an hour for Amara and Liriel to get you ready for the day. Each of them fretted over different aspects of your style, conversing with one another on colours, hues, styles, and jewelry. You had spoken to them many times that you cared little for your own presentation and that you were here on one mission alone; find a cure for the taint. There was no time to fuss over what complimented your undertones or how one particular fabric pattern suited you more than the other. However, you knew putting up a fight and resisting would be pointless and resigned yourself to becoming a doll they could dress up.

Their intentions were good, but you regretted it the moment you left your room and began to be escorted down the hall. Other elves passed, all servants or members of the court, and they gawked at you. The elvish clothing on you felt wrong and you occasionally tugged on the ends of your sleeves with nervousness. You felt inadequate in any way and just wished to go back to your work, for that was what you could do well.

You happen upon a set of two doors, not as large as the ones at the grand hall, but still detailed enough that you appreciated the craftmanship. The two guards that had walked you from your room each grabbed a handle and opened it. Inside you could see a large study. Shelves were lined with countless vials, boxes, and chests filled with more ingredients than you knew existed. It was the most exquisite laboratory you had ever seen.

A door on one of the far ends opened and an elf walked in. He had short silver hair that hung down just past the bottoms of his ears in whisps. He was dressed in dark trousers with high boots. His doublet was made of an emerald-coloured fabric with metal embellishments. His stature was thin but built, and he appeared to be just a few inches taller than you. Surprisingly so, he looked to be a young elf.

“Ah, I’ve been expecting you,” He spoke. The elf waved off the guards, “You can stay posted outside, I can take her from here.”

He placed down a box he brought in on one of the many tables. His gaze swept over some brewing vials and adjusted some of the fires below them.

“I am Daeron, the head healer and potions master. I must admit, my sister Helaena did not tell me much about your research, other than the fact that you have been studying the taint.” His eyes, the same shade of blue as Helaena and Aemond, caught yours. He subtly smiled to reassure you, as you had stayed rooted in your spot with your arms wrapped around your stomach.

“Yes, your grace. I have experience studying the taint’s effects on the land. I am also a healer.” You stepped forward and lowered your hold, letting your arms hang at your sides.

“That’s good,” Daeron stopped his work and straightened his back, “I’ll take you on a tour and fill you in on what we know.” He gestured for you to follow him and the two of you walked side by side to one of the two doors at the back of the laboratory. Daeron opened it for you and let you walk in first.

While the grand hall with the throne impressed you, this room far exceeded it. It could not truly be called a room, for it was a vast tower that went up as far as you could see. The walls were covered in bookshelves overflowing with texts. In the centre of the tower was a large open fireplace with a low flame. Around it were a bunch of tables with chairs.

“This is the library, well, one of them at least. This one concerns all the information we would need regarding medicine, plants, and magic,” Daeron began as he walked around the space, his footsteps echoed off the cold stone floor, “You will find all kinds of languages here, but we have translators should you need them.” He moved back towards the door to walk back to the laboratory, but you hung back for a moment, eyes still scanning the vast array of scrolls and tomes.

You turned back around to follow Daeron. He led you through the other door that opened up to a grand hall full of elves in sick beds. Other healers were moving about between the patients, offering medicine and comfort. The sounds of murmurs and coughing flooded the room.

“This place was an old feasting hall, but we converted it to house the influx of sick patients. While we have a decent understanding of the taint’s effects on plant life, the effects on the body are… different to all previous knowledge we have.” Daeron walked down the centre aisle at the foot of all the beds and you followed.

“I know it spreads through cuts and other openings of the body,” You added while glancing at all the sick people as you pass by, “Truly my expertise remains with the taint's effect on nature, not the body. I have only met a few people who were afflicted by it and only for a moment.”

Daeron nodded and stood in front of a long white sheet that sectioned off a part of the hall, “Then I must warn you about what you are about to see, it is not pleasant.” He opened the curtain and walked in, holding it so you could pass through. On the other side were more patients, however, they did not look like the ones you passed. The ones you passed were sick with a common fever, coughing and sweaty, but the ones here had visual effects on their body.

Wounded elves lay in their beds, most asleep, while the ones who were awake acted caught in a perpetual hell. Their skin looked like glass, shiny under thick covers of sweat but had marked cracks as though it was the bed of a dried lake. There was a dark purple, almost black tint on different areas of each person’s body with their veins protruding to the surface. Some were coughing up blood onto rags as their body convulsed. The sight was grim and you had to suck in a breath to refrain from displaying any signs of discomfort.

“It burns through the body quickly in some cases, eventually rendering them immobile in some limbs. It occurs at different rates as well. No remedies for pain or other ailments even aid in pain relief.” Daeron turned to you and leaned in, lowering his voice so the others could not hear, “The people in this section have no more than a day or two before they pass. At this stage, all they can do is wait.”

You looked around at the elves, despair rolling over you in waves. It was one thing to hear of the taint killing but to see it was something else entirely. It was an incredibly sad sight, to watch the life be horribly drained from people that did not deserve it. You and Daeron continued on as he began to name patients and how they got infected. Most were injured while inspecting the taint, others approached because they did not know what it was and suffered the consequences of curiosity.

“Have you tried moonweed? I’ve seen it make surprising effects on the taint I experiment on back home.” You proposed. Daeron turned to you and thought for a moment.

“Moonweed is a poison,” Daeron stated.

You nodded, “Yes, but it is known that some poisons can be used to counteract others. I tried it in an experiment once. Tainted flowers began to grow alive again, but it did not last.” You were solemn by your failed experiment just the day prior. You truly believed it had worked, but when the life faded away and the taint took over again you felt a part of yourself go with it.

Daeron walked closer to you, awe in his eyes as his hands went up to rest on your shoulders, “Are you being truthful? It really receded?”

“Well, yes, but only for a moment,” You undermined your work, still reeling from the colossal failure.

“Genius!” Daeron began. He started to walk away from you towards the exit of this area of the sick ward, “None of our healers have yet to accomplish that. You must go over it with me in the laboratory. What a feat!” His steps had renewed vigour at your words. You got the sense that this was an elf with an intense passion for his study, bordering on obsession by his reaction to your words.

“Genius for a human, right?” You did not mean to say that as loudly as you did, but it had been feelings simmering under the surface the whole time you had been in the elven kingdom. Whenever people talked to you, their compliments always felt backhanded; as though a human was unworthy of such praise but received it otherwise.

Daeron looked at you with an eyebrow raised, confused that you would ask such a question, “No. Just genius.” As he walked away, you paused for a moment. Your heart swelled at the compliment and you knew that hopefully, you would be making another friend in this place; anything that could make your stay here better.

You sped up your walking to catch up with Daeron and walked with him to the laboratory, where the two of you spent the following hours swapping notes and other bits of information. The two of you had to catch up on what the other knew, as being on the same page was crucial.

The time between you and Daeron passed swiftly. Despite the topic being grim, it felt nice to share information with someone just as deeply invested in the same study as you. His passion for healing was much like yours, though his talent for potion-making far exceeded your skills. The two of you spent hours in the laboratory, bouncing ideas back and forth and scanning through books.

Over that time, your conversation had managed to move into topics that were not strictly work-related. You had gotten to know Daeron beyond that of the role of head healer. He had an interest in horse breeding and animal care. He had a plethora of pets, including some cats, dogs, an owl, and two ferrets. You had instantly seen a resemblance between him and Helaena, as she had an interest in collecting insects. Your thoughts drifted to Aemond and if he collected anything like his siblings.

Your feet pattered against the stone hallway as two guards walked in front of you. It was as if your thoughts summoned Aemond himself, for at the end of the hallway he turned down to walk by you. His shoulders swayed with the movement of his gait. His lithe figure was tall and lean. He wore a similar outfit to the one you saw yesterday, all dark leather. His longsword was strapped to his waist and moved back and forth with his steps. His hair was done in the same style of half up and half down.

The elf king was the most exquisite being you had ever seen, but his reputation threw you off entirely. With the stories you had heard, he was like a spawn from the greatest evils deep under the earth’s surface. Another elf walked beside him, with sunkissed skin and dark hair. Thick stubble covered the bottom portion of his face and you realized that he was the first elf you saw that possessed a beard. He was clad in silver armour and conversed with Aemond. While Aemond did not so much as spare you a glance as he passed by, the man to his side was looking at you with an intensity of hate you had yet to receive from anyone. Even the scornful look you had received from the king the other day was not as odious as this.

The elf stopped glaring at you to give attention to his king. You nodded with respect as you passed, but you doubted it was noticed. The guards in front of you marched at a steady pace while you maintained a step behind them. After Aemond passed, you released a breath of relief. You hoped that he would continue to ignore your presence for the year you were there, for you did not wish to see what would happen if you were to get on his bad side.

A burning feeling at the back of your head hit you and you knew someone was staring at you. It felt exactly like the stare Aemond gave you when leaving the throne room the other day. You knew the king was watching you as you moved down the hallway. It was with great relief that it faded once you made a right turn and got out of his sight.

There was a part of you that wondered why he had been looking, but logically you hoped it was nothing but your nerves tricking you.

Chapter 4: A Night of Song and Dance Preview

“What about,” You lowered your voice slightly, “The Great War?” It had ended centuries ago, but the scars from such gratuitous violence still cut and the blood still stained the minds and hearts of everyone. Daeron’s eyes darkened for a moment as if recalling it himself. You knew he would have been alive during that period and it once again hit you how odd it was to be among elves. They live so long, and everyone in this room was guaranteed to be many centuries, possibly even a millennium, older than you.

“All that my brother did was to defend our lands, that is all. What about your people? Are you telling me they did not do terrible things to protect themselves?”

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

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preeningpisces · 8 months ago

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Report - Kenjaku x F!Reader

Kenjaku shows up unannounced, and makes himself all too comfortable in your apartment. Pwp, 4k, Crossposted on AO3

A/N: At first I referred to him as Geto in this, as I found it unlikely YN would know his real name, but then figured this has no plot and there isn't many Kenjaku x reader fics without Geto & swapped it to Kenjaku ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shoutout to this lovely anon for giving me a reason/the drive to write something for my favorite hoe 💚

Content: p-in-v, m!oral, sex toys, size kink, unprepped sex, edging, choking, biting, spit/cum stuff, degradation--personally I think this is more tame than it sounds

18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby!reader, enjoooy!

The figure seated at your dinner table makes your soul leap from your body.

Tonight you planned a date with a hot shower, your favorite snacks, and three seasons’ worth of TV to binge. You’d only completed step one, so recently that your skin hasn’t finished absorbing the lotion, leaving your calves and thighs tacky.

His back is to you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. For once, he isn’t wearing his signature robes, and instead sports simple black clothing. Seeing him dressed down is comforting, makes him seem less untouchable, and more like a regular person.

You lament the change in your evening plans, knowing your guest will occupy a decent portion of your time.

“You take awfully long showers,” he says without turning. “I’ve been here for over an hour.”

Springing up at random isn’t out of the ordinary for Kenjaku, though it’s more common for him to send messages from unknown numbers or ‘coincidentally’ run into you. He’s never showed up at your apartment before, let alone at such an odd hour of the night. Briefly you wonder how he knows where you live, but then dismiss this as a foolish thought—of course he knows.

“I’m just thorough,” you say as you round the table and sit across from him where he reads one of your books. A silly romance that was popular online; hardly revolutionary or life-altering, but it was a sweet, endearing story and you enjoyed it quite a bit. With how far he’s in, you wonder if he picked a random spot or simply reads that quickly.

“That you are.” He glances up, and a shift in his eye tells you he wasn’t expecting the cotton bathrobe with matching shorts. It’s a favorite that you got off a discount rack, lying somewhere between the lines of sensual and comfortable. Flattering, but hardly scandalous; you don’t feel indecent in his presence.

“I’m surprised you enjoy this drivel,” he says, judgment evident. “You seemed more intelligent than that.”

“They’re just for fun. Sometimes it’s nice to read something simple,” you reach for the book, beginning to feel defensive.

He leans back, now flipping through its contents. It reminds you of a schoolyard bully holding your belongings above you and taunting you for being too short.

“Are you here to antagonize me, or are you here for something actually important?” As soon as you say this, you know you made a mistake: the ire in your voice will only encourage his pestering.

“I came for your report, but now I’m more interested in your terrible taste.” He gestures to your bookshelf—small, and housing a modest collection of varying genres with the occasional knick knack. “I’ve gone through several already, but saved what I suspect to be the worst for last.”

“Then you can follow me on Goodreads, if you’re so curious. Now give that back,” you hold out your hand, growing agitated. The light catches the ridge of his scar, and taunts you to tug on one of those stitches, which look much less secure than they should.

“Embarrassed?” He smiles, and makes no move to relinquish the book.

“If I say yes, will you give it back?”

A snide puff.

“No.”

Knowing how fickle he is, you relent; he’ll grow bored with the book soon enough and move on. But minutes of his skimming pass, wholly ignoring your crossed arms and impatient tapping.

“Ah, I see. Is this why you’re so fond of these?” He turns the book for you to read: it’s one of the few sex scenes, and his finger points to a questionable line of dialogue.

You can’t resist the bait, and indignation rises in your chest. You spring forward in your seat, aiming for the book. Unfazed by your aggression, he avoids you with ease and an infuriating smirk. It only provokes you further, now motivating you to one-up him.

There is a sudden pause in his movements that allows you to snatch the book. As you look at him triumphantly, you notice his eyes aren’t directed at your face; instead, they’re fixed on your chest. Following his gaze, your heart sinks when you discover your robe hanging open, revealing your right breast.

When you look at him again, his eyes are on yours. Heavy and lidded, they freeze you in place with their weight. The playful energy from before halts, as if the room itself is holding its breath. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his hand in the opening, and cups your breast.

Shocked, you drop the book with a muted thud, more from his boldness than the sensation. A gasp escapes you when he pinches your nipple, rolling it slowly, and your hands fly to his shoulders, not wanting to topple over from the awkward position.

His other hand joins and teases your unexposed breast through the cloth; you fall against him, and a soft noise warms his ear before tracing the stretched lobe with your lower lip. Whether it’s ticklish or it’s your interest in his ear that entertains him, his shoulders thrum with amusement. The plastic clacks between your teeth as you toy with the plug, seeing how far you can rotate it before he becomes irritated.

It doesn’t take long, because a hand winds itself in your hair and pulls you forward, but the table creaks in protest under your weight.

“Not here,” you say, husk already tinting your voice. “It’s a shitty table.”

He releases you and follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. You don’t even have time to flick on the light before he pulls you backward, connecting your ass to his groin with his large hands fondling your breasts.

The eager touch surprises you—he hadn’t seemed at all bothered when you stopped him before. You can’t help but shiver when he sucks on your neck, fixing it with hickeys and bites. A renewed focus on your nipples makes you whimper and squeeze at his forearms.

“Sensitive here, or are you just desperate?” He punctuates with a pull of your left nipple.

“A bit of both,” you say, and press your ass against him. It’s been some time since you’ve felt this kind of touch, let alone by someone as attractive as him.

“Cute,” he hums, and grinds his forming erection against you.

Cool palms slide beneath the robe again, making your nipples so peaked they sting. Deft fingers are quick to melt the cold with slow rolls that morph into pinching and dragging from areola to tip. The attention makes you squirm in his hold and rest your head against his shoulder, weaving your fingers through his glorious hair—which is every bit as silky as it appears. Needing an outlet for your rising desire, you detach him from your neck and angle his head so you can force your lips together.

The kiss is more passionate than you expected, and it only makes you melt further in his hands. You scratch his scalp and earn a surprised moan. His right hand trails upward, wrapping around a considerable portion of your neck. Air isn’t cut or restricted, but he squeezes enough for your pulse to quicken and make your head fuzzy.

A twist of your nipple makes you arch your back, and he sucks your lower lip until it bruises. Teeth scrape it briefly, before he pushes his tongue into your open mouth and greets yours unabashedly.

Kenjaku has an air of grace to him, of superiority; you’d think him above such things as these. But he doesn’t flinch or show any disgust when drool pools from the messy kiss—he even licks the bit that trickles down your chin. He breaks the kiss, parting slowly to appreciate the strand that connects your mouths.

A tug of the simple knot at your waist peels your robe open, and you help him by shrugging your shoulders free. The hold on your neck tightens, and he feels down your stomach, dipping below the waistband of your shorts. Your skin prickles with embarrassment when he squeezes the full softness above your pussy. A pleased noise comes from the back of his throat when he realizes you have no underwear and finds slippery arousal.

“Look at me.”

You feel how heavy your eyes are, how blatant lust must be on your face. His middle finger finds your clit and traces a single rough, short line, making you flinch. Almost imperceptible circles soothe the rough sensation, leading you to loosen your grip on his hair and hold his wrist. The featherlike strokes feel like static, and every tingle of your flesh touching makes you wetter.

When your eyes shut, he squeezes your neck again, demanding you keep your focus on him. Even in moments like this, his eyes are full of condescension and superiority; the lowliness you feel in his presence only stirs your need.

Awkwardly, you feel around behind you for his cock and rub your palm over it as best you can. Despite the clumsy touch, his breath hitches, and his clever fingers pause. Thrill dances in your chest and you stroke him more firmly.

His hand flexes around your neck, and you can’t tell if it’s a warning or a green light. Whichever he intends doesn’t matter to you, because you squeeze his bulge. The firm tap of his finger on your clit reads as chastisement, but you ignore it, already deciding your next move.

“I want to suck your dick,” you say. You aren’t too prideful to kowtow to his desire for control. “Can I?”

Dark eyes shelter his thoughts as he considers your offer, and for a moment you think he’s going to turn you down, but he dips his finger in your hole and briefly skims the edge before swiping back up to your clit. A small noise comes out, and your face must be comical because he looks more amused than before.

“How polite.” The lack of heat and touch as he steps away are disappointing, but the sounds of his belt and zipper more than make up for their loss. “I suppose I’ll let you.”

“Let me,” you snort as you watch him undress. “As if you didn’t start this.”

A broad hand presses down on your shoulder, urging you to kneel—which you do eagerly, not minding the cheap carpet scratching your knees.

“I did, and now you’re exactly where I want you,” he removes his sweater, bearing the impressive muscles of his abdomen. You wonder if this was his true intention coming here tonight and that he played you like a fiddle.

These thoughts disappear when he pulls his trousers and underwear down; you can’t help when your face twists in shock: his cock is huge.

“No wonder you’re so full of yourself.”

He smirks, and you dread what this affair will do to his already inflated ego.

You scoot forward, assessing the beast, and idly rotate your jaw to prepare for the task at hand. Despite most of his head being exposed and dripping with pre-cum, you push back the remaining foreskin to fully reveal the dark head. You lean forward for a kiss, but land it on his groin instead.

The click of his tongue and the twitch beneath you is reward enough for the entire night; you’re confident he would never beg for anything from you, but this disappointment feels close enough to claim the satisfaction all the same.

Still positioned at his tip, your thumbs softly stroke the sides, more soothing than pleasurable as you continue to mouth everywhere but his cock. Fed up, he grips your hair and pulls you back. You get the message, and eagerly suck his head in your mouth, where you set your lips and tongue to work; it’s difficult with his girth, but you manage. He grunts and loosens his hold, allowing you to do as you please.

To show your gratitude, you plunge him deeper, tongue now rubbing along the seam of his cock as you flex and contract your lips. The muscles in his thighs jolt, and you feel energy rolling off him—the urge to do something, to react.

Steeling your resolve, you slide him further in and pull back, never stopping the pulse of your lips or tongue. It’s then that you suck around him, creating the wet sounds of suction that fill your small bedroom.

The light from the hallway glows behind him, making him radiant; like he’s a god, and this is your offering.

You cup his balls gently and rub a thumb over them to test the waters. Your curiosity is rewarded when the single hand in your hair becomes two, and he moves your head for you.

They cover your ears, cutting out all sound. Whether this is intentional, you can’t say. All you can hear is the wet sounds of your mouth molding around his cock. It’s as if this is your entire world, that this is the only thing you’re good for, and the thought makes you drip.

Lewdly, you hum and moan your prayer around him. Noises of his own join yours, but you are not worthy of hearing them. Overeager, he pulls you down further on his cock, poking dangerously close to your gag reflex. Your second unoccupied hand wraps around the portion not in your mouth preemptively, and stroke him in time with your mouth. Seeing right through your attempt, he holds your head still and begins fucking your mouth.

It takes only a few thrusts for him to push deeper than before, making you gag softly, which causes him to throw his head back and continue the deep thrusts. It’s uncomfortable, but not so much that you feel the need to stop him. Watching him loosen up is so hypnotic you don’t register how worryingly deep he is in your throat. Until he surges himself all the way forward, forcing your nose to meet his groin.

When you choke, he groans deeply, and rolls against your face as your throat convulses around him sporadically. You’re about to beat at his thigh, but he pulls you off his cock entirely.

Quickly, you recover and recapture him despite the pull on your hair, doubling down with a soft mouth, tonguing all the sensitive spots you found. And to your surprise, hot cum spurts down your throat with a low groan. You drink it all until he pulls your head back and strokes his cock, shooting the remaining spurts on your face.

You didn’t think he’d be so quick to cum, and it seems, neither did he.

A painful yank of your hair forces you to stand before you can comment, and full of surprises, he licks a line of cum from your chin and smears it over your tongue with his own. The dirtiness of it makes a raw noise come from your abused throat.

Not breaking the kiss, he walks you to your bed and pushes you back; you scoot yourself to the headboard and barely shimmy your shorts off before he crawls atop you, flaccid cock in hand. With a surge of reversed cursed energy, he urges it to re-harden.

“Is this the difference between special grades and the rest of us?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your taunt, and after two pumps, positions his cock at your hole. Unprepped, his tip presses against the ring of muscle for several moments, unable to breech despite ample lubrication.

“The Viagra tech-”

Your pussy finally yields, and his cock spears itself to the hilt.

“Fuck!”

Mercifully, he doesn’t rail you, and instead rolls his hips, stroking your most receptive spots. It aches, his cock stretching you to what feels like your capacity, but it’s the sort of ache that makes you crave more. You meet his hips with your own, desperately chasing more of the electric feeling. He grabs the underside of your knees and leans forward, putting his weight on them. The position angles his cock upward and fucks you with more fervor.

“Jesus, it’s so big,” you say, legs trembling in his hold.

Needing a distraction, you cup the back of his head and pull him as close as your breasts and stomach allow. You kiss at whatever flesh you can reach, starting at his damp hairline, and following up immediately with the seam on his forehead. The simple kiss earns you a sharp cant of his hips and a hiss, tempting you to fixate on the scar.

Your tongue traces the divot faintly, careful not to press too hard and minding the sutures. The effect is immediate, as he ruts into you, slow, deep, and hard, surprisingly loud moans spilling from his pretty lips. Even his moans are rough, as if they scrape his throat on their way out. Like his vocal chords haven’t made such sounds in some time.

“Sensitive?” You murmur your tease against the raised flesh.

“Wounds tend to be, yes.” He kisses you tenderly, and when you sigh, bites your lower lip with a crunch. Teeth pierce, and copper flavors the kiss. You part with a hiss, and his thumb swipes at the puncture. “See? Or do you need further demonstration.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mutter, batting his hand away from your sore lip.

His attention falters, and you follow his eyes to your nightstand. You live alone and have no need for secrecy, so your vibrator charges in plain sight. Owning sex toys is something you’ve never thought twice about, let alone felt any shame towards, but you become flustered when Kenjaku leans over and unplugs it.

Excitement overpowers your embarrassment when he turns it on. To your surprise, he doesn’t place it on your clit, and instead keeps it in a low setting and traces it along your labia. His hips slow, but they maintain a steady pace. Your body tenses with anticipation anytime it nears your clit, but it still doesn’t touch you. The stretch of his cock feels amazing, but your clit practically burns with need, swollen and begging to be touched.

“Now, what do you have for me this week?” he asks, full of mischief.

“What?”

He pushes your chubby mound upward and finally places the toy on your clit—you gasp.

“Your report. It’s what I came here for, after all.”

He circles the vibrator around your clit in time with his hips, looking all too amused when you struggle to respond. You ignore his question, and instead squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate. You’ve waited so long, you’ve been so pent up, you just need—

“Ah, ah, you’ve got a job to do. Stay focused,” he tuts, and lifts the vibrator. You swear loudly, and your hips chase the toy, but he pins you with a hand on your hip.

“T-the first year,” you begin, legs trembling with pent up anticipation, “students–” you whimper when the vibrator returns.

“Go on,” he coos.

“They-they…” you trail off when a slow and delicious drag of his cock steals your mind. The vibrator moves, and you throw your head back. “Theywentto–fuck!”

“Speak clearly; this is vital information.” He presses it on fully, directly, gleefully watching you struggle.

“They wen-went to Ro-oooh,” with a click, he turns it up a notch. “Fuck, you’re–” he nestles it between your lips and rotates it teasingly. Only a few hums more and he removes it again.

“Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice warbles pathetically, “please let me cum. I need it–”

“And I need your report,” he smiles, as if he isn’t torturing you.

The hopeless look you give him must spur him on, because he fucks you with the most vigor he’s showed thus far. Ripples roll across your soft stomach and thighs, and your breasts bounce wildly, but you’re too far gone to pay them any mind.

“They went to R-roppongi!” You manage, and before he can torment you, add, “it was just—third-grade curses.”

Even now, as he fucks you hard and fast, he doesn’t pull out much, and instead focuses on stroking your all of your sensitive areas relentlessly. It’s so different from what you’re used to, and so, so much better. You don’t know if you’ll be satisfied getting fucked any other way now.

“And what of Satoru Gojo?” he grunts when you squeeze him particularly hard.

“A meeting–he had a meeting,” you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath. The pause must displease Kenjaku, because he slaps your wet clit with the buzzing toy, making you jerk beneath him.

“Wednesday!” you yell. “The Higher uh-” you’re cut off with a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue, agitating your bloody lip.

“No need to shout, I’m right here,” he says cheekily, and grips your jaw, demanding your attention. “I’m sure you’re eager for your reward.” You nod the best you can.

A large palm spans your lower belly, pressing the plump flesh down to meet his upward thrusts. It feels like you’re even fuller, even more sensitive; your eyes bulge when a deep pressure builds.

“Can you feel it?” His eyes look wild, more unhinged than before, and it makes you squeeze him in apprehension. “How large this cock is—incredible, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t on the verge of exploding, the way he marvels at his own dick would make you roll your eyes.

“Hmm?” He pulls all the way out for the first time, and sharply thrusts back in, meanly stabbing your deepest, most tender area.

“Yes, yes—I feel it!” He repeats the motion, aiming higher. “It feels so fucking good!”

He chuckles and ups the vibrator’s setting, rocking into you faster. All you can do is hold on to him, your mind too scattered and pliant for anything more. With each powerful thrust, he hits the spot near your cervix, causing your pussy to clench around him and draw melodic sounds. You force your eyes to stay open, fully aware that this is a sight you’ll never forget. His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty skin, with most of the strands of his top knot undone. Pink tinges his cheeks, and his brows crease ever so slightly. The sight causes a sudden leap of pleasure, and you feel yourself dancing at the edge.

“Are you ready to come?” He asks, as if sensing the sudden development.

“Oh, god yes!”

A smile is the only warning you're given before he withdraws the vibrator again. The cruelty almost makes you cry. Before you can plead, he pushes the hood of your clit back and the vibrator returns.

“Then come.”

Everything you held onto breaks as you come, abdomen convulsing deeply, and mouth wide open. You soar so high you forget he’s with you for a moment. Your pussy gushes, and clenches him so hard it feels like it’s trying to push his cock out along with your release. The euphoric sensations quickly become a sting as the vibrator doesn’t falter, and you claw at his back and wail.

With a click, he turns off the toy as he tosses it aside, and traps you in his arms with his head nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. Teeth sink into the flesh hard enough to draw blood and a shout. Only four pumps more and he fills you as deep as he can reach, as if his cum seeps directly into your womb.

He lies on you for several moments, his cock softening and twitching occasionally. It’s pleasant, and oddly domestic, feeling skin against your own and listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing. Eventually, he slides free, and you’re reminded that he came inside you when it trickles down your ass.

“I’m not on birth control, you know.” You eye him as he flops next to you, making himself comfortable, as if this is his bed and you’re the guest. “Unless you want some kid of yours running around, you owe me a Plan B.”

He shrugs.

“Makes no difference to me. It wouldn’t be my first child or my last.”

“Ha, right,” you stretch your legs, sore from being bent for so long. After a pause, you turn to him again.

“Wait, really?”

#rct can get it back up #idc idc idc its canon #someone teach me how to end things bc its such a struggle #dreams of kenjaku ☁︎#dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽#kenjaku x reader #kenjaku smut #kenjaku x chubby reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #jjk smut #jjk reader insert

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drunk-person · 4 months ago

Text

Dynasty (The Gossip) P.7

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and aunt and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: The return to Kings Landing may not bring everything that Aemond and Y/n expected, since life does not always favor the choices of those born into a dynasty.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+, family fights, dysfunctional family, I don't know what warnings to put up today, no description for reader.

Word count: 9.800 k

A/n: Ok this chapter was a little hard to write and I told myself I would stop editing it or it would never see the light of the Internet hahaha. For those who want to follow the soundtrack in this chapter we have a bit of Two Ghosts by Harry Styles and then Dynasty by MIIA. I hope you like it, and continue to like me after this.

"Hey, hey Kings Landing, apparently Aemond Targaryen was seen on the beach in Lys over the weekend. It was not reported whether he was accompanied or not, but we all know that no one goes to Lys unaccompanied, and everyone who goes there does not intend to be seen. Could this be the reason for Floris Baratheon's disaffection?"

❦❦❦

The trip back to Kings Landing was nothing but peaceful. And while still on the plane, Aemond smilingly decided that the cat's name would be Vhagar, just like the ancient Valyrian goddess, which Y/n vehemently approved. The two landed in the early hours of Monday, and with Aemond still excited, they went to a 24-hour veterinary clinic, where Vhagar could be examined and properly vaccinated. When the two returned with her to the car, she was much cleaner, although her fur was still dull. And Aemond had bought special food, a bed and toys for cats.

Vhagar was slightly scared when she arrived at Aemond's apartment, since she had never been in that environment. And as soon as Aemond opened the transport box, she hid under the bookshelf in the living room and refused to leave, which Aemond respected, letting her adapt.

The next morning, Aemond had to use all the willpower he had in him to get out of bed after having slept for about two hours. Y/n's warm body next to his in bed looked so attractive, covered in nothing but a black cotton shirt that she had taken from his closet. And all he wanted was to cling to her and spend the whole morning just breathing deeply against her neck.

Reluctantly, Aemond got up without waking her and took a shower. As he got dressed for the day, her voice called him softly and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with that sweet sound.

-Are you already going to work? - Her hair was messy and her face was slightly crumpled as she stared at him and Aemond walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, pulling her in for a soft kiss.

-Mmmm. - He murmured positively and almost felt faint when she crossed her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and leaving another kiss.

-If you need to talk to me, just give me a call. - Aemond spoke against her neck after breaking the kiss, pointing to the phone he had brought from the living room and left on the bedside table and Y/n nodded positively with a smile.

-Did you leave your number? - She frowned slightly.

-It's still the same as always. - He shrugged. - I never changed it.

Y/n just smiled and left a soft kiss on his chin before Aemond got up and headed for the door.

-See you later.

❦❦❦

Aemond was visibly tired when he arrived at the company that morning, and all he wanted was to have stayed cuddled with Y/n in bed at least until 11. In his slight distraction caused by sleep, he barely noticed the eyes following him as soon as he entered the main hall of the Targaryan, everyone inadvertently noticing the not-so-subtle tan on his always white skin, denouncing the veracity of the speculations pointed out early in the morning in the gossip magazines and blogs.

As soon as he got off the elevator on the floor where his and Aegon's offices were, the secretaries' eyes landed curiously on his skin, and soon after the two quickly looked at each other with slightly anxious eyes.

-Any message for me? - Aemond asked, already heading towards his own office.

-No message, sir, just some late reports from last week that are on your desk. - Lizze replied quickly while nodding her head negatively.

-Mmmm, good… - He then stopped in the middle of the way - When you order my lunch, order the same as you ordered for me, but swap the meat for fish or chicken and have it delivered to my apartment.

-Yes sir. - Lizze quickly wrote down what he said so as not to run the risk of forgetting. And as soon as the door to Aemond's office closed she whispered to Sana.

-Last Friday she made that exact same order for me. - Lizze leaned over the table as she spoke and Sana just drummed her fingers on the table while laughing and waggling her eyebrows at Lizze.

-So we already know where she's spending the day. - Sana whispered back laughing. - Did you see his skin? He looks like a walking shrimp! He must have been frying in the Lys sun all weekend.

-Well we have a good idea of who was keeping him company. - Lizze bit her lip, a little guilty for making such statements, even though she knew they were probably true.

-You mean we're sure, right? - Sana rolled her eyes, laughing.

-What I really know is that she's been back less than a week and in that time my workload has decreased by 50% and I got a raise, I hope she never leaves! - Lizze concluded with a mischievous smile as she answered a call.

❦❦❦

Aemond gave an irritated look at his desk as soon as he entered the office, he hated delays with almost every ounce of his being. And after reading to make sure everything was right and finally being able to finish his own reports, he decided to personally deliver the papers to his father in the presidency.

He usually didn't go to Viserys' office very often, only when strictly necessary, but he was in a good mood and it wouldn't cost him anything to go there and deliver such important documents.

-You look happy. - Viserys said, looking at his son with a slight smile as he approached the desk and Aemond frowned in confusion since he had the same serious look as always. - It's good to see you like this.

-Mmmm. - He murmured, lowering his gaze, a little embarrassed as he usually was when interacting with his father.

-The technical data reports for this month. - He placed the first folder on the table. - And sector growth reports.

-Very good. - The older man nodded positively while analyzing the papers. - Good work Aemond.

Aemond just nodded, almost letting out a sideways smile as he left while Viserys stared at his son's back, a little apprehensive about the reason for his apparent happiness. The cloud of melancholy that hovered around him seemed to have dissipated overnight, and the patriarch was slightly worried that his wife was right in her concerns.

❦❦❦

The sun was already a little high in the sky when Y/n, even though she was still sleepy, forced herself to get up from Aemond's comfortable bed. She had a lot of things to plan and wanted to find a perfect place to be the studio for the brand in formation. And after taking a shower to feel more awake, wearing a beautiful aqua green sundress that she had brought from Lys and eating some yogurts from the fridge, she turned on the desktop computer in the office to start working.

Y/n hadn't noticed much about Aemond's apartment the day she arrived, but thinking better now that she was looking closely there wasn't much to notice. It was very spacious and there were almost no walls, increasing the feeling of spaciousness. Apart from the main furniture, it didn't have any decorations that drew much attention; the walls were white and the furniture was a mix of black, gray and cream. In fact, when she stopped to think about it, she concluded that even his office at the company had more personality.

The only thing that caught the eye was the large wooden shelf full of books. And she couldn't help but smile at the huge collection he had acquired. Some of them, she was sure, should be in a museum, and not on Aemond's personal bookshelf.

Below the bookcase, Y/n frowned when she noticed a beautiful wooden chest with some flowers carved on the lid, but when she tried to open it, she realized it was locked. She then went back to the computer desk and rolled her eyes deeply when she realized it was asking for a password.

Grumbling softly, she walked back to Aemond's room to get the phone. With a huff, she jumped onto the soft bed, lying on her stomach and reaching for the phone on the table. But then her brow furrowed slightly when she saw the bedside drawer with an open gap. Curiously, she opened it all the way, feeling her face heat up a little as she began to laugh when she found two polaroids of herself at the bottom of the drawer. In one, she was just smiling with her eyes closed, wearing a yellow summer dress, lying amidst the colorful flowers of a meadow that the two of them always went to hide in near Kings Wood, something completely innocent. But the other… It was her lying in the middle of the sheets of Aemond's bed wearing nothing but a smile, Y/n remembered that photo and the moment it was taken, it was the first time he had made her cum three times, and at the height of his own arrogance he took that photo saying he wanted to remember that moment forever. And with a smile she dialed the number that she had known by heart for a long time, waiting for Aemond to answer. When he finally did, her smile grew even wider.

-You know, I found something very interesting in your bedside drawer. - She laughed, turning over and lying on her back on the sheets, looking at the ceiling.

-Very interesting? - She could almost see Aemond roll his eyes and smile wryly if he closed his eyes.

-Yeah, you know, a picture of a girl? - She asked, still thrown between the sheets.

-If it's of a very pretty girl, put it back where you found it and don't crease the edges… I only have one of those. - She smiled against the phone when she heard him speak.

-Can I ask what you did with one of them in specific?

-You can after dinner today. - He murmured on the other end of the line and Y/n pulled her legs against her, laughing.

-I'll contain my curiosity.

-Is everything okay? - His voice sounded worried and Y/n felt her heart warm.

-Yes, but I need the computer's password. - She rolled excitedly onto the bed, lying on her stomach while swinging her legs. - I want to look at the available properties to find one that's good enough.

When Aemond started saying the numbers, Y/n jumped out of bed and walked quickly back to the living room, asking him to repeat it more slowly as she sat down on the chair, barely noticing the fact that the numbers were her birthday. She just smiled when she saw a photo of the mansion's garden at dusk, only the stone bench under the tree empty.

-Did you have breakfast?

-Yup. - She answered, already accessing the browser and crossing her legs in a lotus flower on the chair - Yogurt.

-Yogurt is not breakfast. - His voice was serious and Y/n smiled when she imagined the crease forming on his forehead.

-It was when is my first meal of the day. - She rolled her eyes, still laughing. - Now get back to work!

And without saying anything else, Y/n hung up the phone and threw it on the table, then grabbed some papers and a pencil to start researching.

❦❦❦

Aemond hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket, still smiling, but the smile slowly faded when the office door opened and his grandfather and mother entered unannounced, with very serious looks on their faces.

-Hello, Aemond. - Oto's expression would have made anyone tremble at that moment as Alicent closed the door and walked behind her father towards the office desk. - I heard some rumors that may not be good at all.

-Well, the bad tongues of this city have a certain addiction to spreading unfounded gossip. - The youngest disdained, raising his eyebrows slightly. - If we paid attention to all of them, some of us would already be arrested for moral harassment, wouldn't you say, grandfather?

Oto only became even more serious, staring at Aemond with twice the fury.

-I'll ask you just once, Aemond. - Oto's cold and controlled voice seemed to drop the temperature of the room. - Are you having an affair with that little bitch again?

-Don't you dare talk about her like that! - Aemond practically growled with a carefully calculated tone of voice.

-Based on your inconvenience, I can assume so. - Oto placed both hands on the tabletop, staring into his eyes. - And I'm trying to understand Aemond where you're planning to go with this, because Aegon is a stupid idiot and we all know that, but I always expected more from you.

Aemond's eyes burned with anger as he heard his grandfather speak, and he stared back at him without moving a muscle while he felt his hands tremble.

-Do you remember what we talked about the last time I was here? - Oto hissed tightly. - About the unique opportunity that the party chose to offer you? Your candidacy could be launched in the next elections alongside mine, this would make you one of the youngest deputies in our history, it would give more power to our family, it would improve your position within the company and as an heir!

-But do you think the conservative party will maintain the proposal if all this comes to light in the media? - The older man glared at him. - People are not stupid! They see things and go around talking about what they see. Do you think no one is talking about you going to Lys all of a sudden and leaving your fiancée behind?

-She's not my fiancée! - Aemond spoke firmly and slowly, narrowing his eyes at his grandfather.

-But it should be! - Oto slammed his hands on the table. - Do you think that girl is going to wait forever? That her father will be patient forever? He is my ally and supporter within the party, but he expects to receive something in return and this marriage is as beneficial to you as it is to everyone else involved. The shareholders will pressure Viserys about the succession if you are married to Floris and have direct influence over Baratheon industries!

-What if I don't want any of this? - Aemond walked away from his grandfather and headed towards the bookshelves under Alicent's watchful eye. - What if I want to have a different life?

-A different life? - Oto scoffed before Alicent could open her own mouth. - There is no different life for you, Aemond! You were born for this, for business, for politics! You are a Targaryen and a Hightower, you will not give up everything for a girl who is not worth your time. You were born into a dynasty, boy! Luxuries like choices cannot be paid for!

-She is exactly like her father! - Oto growled angrily, approaching his grandson again. - She doesn't think before she acts, she only does what she wants and thinks she deserves to do well for it. Let me tell you where Daemon is now, isolated in Pentos, married to a useless woman, with two daughters and running a branch of the company that is of absolutely no use! He threw away the golden opportunity that was Rhea Royce because he thought he deserved a different life. That's what happened!

-Do you want to follow that same path? End up with nothing, just the failure they expect you to be, just like Aegon is? - Oto almost shouted those words to Aemond as he got closer and closer to him under Alicent's watchful gaze. -That girl will only pull you down like the anchor she is! Putting those stupid dreams in your head.

Aemond's brain seemed to be rattling around in his head at his grandfather's words, he could barely reason. And as if that would help bring his focus back, he brought his hands to his eyes and pressed them tightly, breathing deeply. When he opened them again, he faced the leather sofa ahead where Y/n was lying waiting for him while drawing, talking and smiling two days ago, feeling her heart speed up.

-I'm not going to marry Floris Baratheon! - He stated slowly, looking very seriously at his grandfather. - And I'm not going to continue with this whole farce, this "relationship" with Floris is over! I'm going to end it all with her today.

-You can't do that! - Alicent screeched, walking towards the father and son. - Aemond, you're not thinking straight, I won't allow you to throw everything away for such a sordid sin.

-Sin is what I'm doing to Floris! - His eyes were wide and he looked towards the elders as he gestured. - Involving her in this whole situation just for my own benefit while I'm in love with someone else…

-Aemond! - Alicent reprimanded him firmly the moment he used the term love. - How many times have I told you not to repeat this? Why can't you just forget about it all? Leave this horrible story behind? You were doing so well until she came back here and messed with your head again.

-Nothing was fine, it wasn't even close to being fine! - He looked at the older people with a fierce look. - But I'm not going to live that way anymore, and I can't bring Floris into this either.

Alicent put her hands to her mouth, sobbing as she stared at Aemond. He felt horrible at that moment for making his mother cry. For a moment, he almost apologized and took back what he had said.

-Do you think your actions only affect you, boy? - Oto turned once again towards Aemond with a fulminated look. - Do you think the consequences won't affect me too?

-The elections are at the end of this year and I run the risk of not even having my candidacy launched by the party if you are involved in a scandal of this magnitude!

-I have built my entire career based on family, morals and good customs. - Oto looked at him fixedly. - And now we have Aegon and Daeron destroying my reputation out there. My salvation is you and Helaena. If you do this, Aemond, I will lose my position in the party and probably my political position.

-And what do you expect me to do? - Aemond asked through gritted teeth, feeling like he could collapse at any moment as he looked at his grandfather with his eyes trembling with pain and doubt.

-Wait at least until the elections to break up with Floris Baratheon. - Oto almost smiled saying those words. - Just act as if everything was normal between you two.

-I can't do that. - Aemond shook his head negatively as he remembered the promise he made to Y/n.

He didn't need to say the reason, both Oto and Alicent knew very well what it was. And before Alicent started talking again, the older man silenced her with just a gesture.

-I know your reasons, Aemond. But if she loves you as much as she says, she will understand your situation. - Oto's eyes shone as he said that. - She will wait for all this to be resolved.

-Give me a few days to think about what I'm going to do. - He asked in a morbid voice, staring at his grandfather with a lost look in his eyes.

-Then at least guarantee me that you will go to the charity ball with Floris. - Oto demanded in a harsh voice. - That would be very good for your image after the last few days and consequently for my image as well.

-Mmm. - And without knowing what to say, Aemond just murmured and nodded to his grandfather who smiled sideways at the small victory.

❦❦❦

Sana and Lizze practically bit their nails out of curiosity in the entrance hall of the offices. Every now and then they heard shouts and incoherent words coming from inside Aemond's office. The only thing they both knew was that they were discussing Floris Baratheon.

And when the doors finally opened and Oto came out followed by Alicent, both with unfriendly faces, the two pretended to focus on their own tasks, avoiding even looking away to notice them.

-Father, have you lost your mind? - Alicent looked at him furiously, starting to speak as soon as the elevator doors closed. - Why did you back off?

-Because it wouldn't do any point to pressure him to stay away from her. I underestimated Aemond's devotion towards her. - Oto's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

-I warned you, didn't I? - Alicent hissed, biting the skin of her thumb staring at his father with wide eyes. - You weren't there the night I sent her away, you didn't see what I saw! She's like a parasite stuck to him.

-Well, we already know one thing… the only person who can keep Aemond away from Y/n is Y/n herself. - The oldest looked at her very seriously. - And I'm going to make sure that happens.

-How?

-From the little time I've spent with her and from what you've told me, the girl has the same unstable temperament as that her idiot father. - Oto rolled his eyes. - It'll be easy to put her exactly in the position we want.

❦❦❦

Y/n was leaning over the office desk eating one of the remaining chocolate bars Aemond had bought for her in Lys the day before while crossing a potential property off the list after realizing it was too close to Flea Bottom.

The soft sound of the doorbell broke through the silence of the apartment and Y/n frowned, heading towards the door without even looking at who it was before opening it, becoming even more confused when she found a food delivery man standing in the doorway.

-I didn't order food. - The girl frowned, staring at the boy.

-This is Mr. Aemond Targaryen's apartment, isn't it? - The boy looked at her confused and Y/n just nodded positively.

-So that's right. - He handed the package into Y/n's hands and left, wishing her a good lunch, making her smile and wish him a good day at work.

She rolled her eyes with a silly smile on her lips as she opened the package and saw the smoked salmon with Caesar salad and some side dishes.

-He knows how to be sweet when he wants to be. - She said to Vhagar who was eating some of the food with her back to the wall while looking at her suspiciously.

Y/n tried to call Aemond to talk about lunch, but he didn't answer her calls and shrugging her shoulders she finished her own meal while feeling Vhagar, who had become less skittish after getting a piece of fish from Y/n's plate, rubbing herself against her calves.

❦❦❦

The rest of Aemond's afternoon was an endless torment. He barely touched the food that had been brought and didn't do even a third of the work he was supposed to do for the day. He just kept thinking about how he was going to get out of this situation without causing any more problems, but there seemed to be no answer.

Y/n called once again shortly after his mother and grandfather left his office, but Aemond didn't have the courage to answer. Not after all that, not when he felt unable to draw oxygen into his own lungs.

Hours later, when the sun was already setting on the horizon, he sighed deeply and picked up the phone, dialing the home number, leaning over the table as if a huge weight were on his back.

-Hello you! - Y/n's sweet voice came on the other end of the line and Aemond felt his chest tighten.

-Hey, beautiful. - He practically sighed. - Is everything okay?

-Well, I received some delicious food for lunch and I have ten good real estate options for the studio, so I would say yes. - He could feel the excitement in her voice as she spoke and couldn't help but smile melancholy.

-But what about you… are you okay? - She paused, her voice suddenly worried, he did his best to reassure her.

-Yes, just a stressful meeting earlier.

-Oh, I can give you a back massage when you get home. - Her voice was so soft, so sweet, so concerned for him. Aemond felt his own body tingle.

-That will definitely be well received. - He smiled more genuinely and soon after that he decided he had had enough of that day.

-I'll be there in a few minutes.

-Really? - Her voice sounded excited and he was sure she was biting her lower lip at that very moment. - I thought you were leaving later.

-And I am, but I'm leaving early today.

-Great! I'm going to order something for us to eat! See you later.

Aemond heard two loud kisses that she had probably placed on the phone and shortly afterwards the line went dead. He just rolled his eyes with a tired smile and put away his things and left the office.

-Miss Mayotte, take my messages. I'm going for today. - He announced without even looking at the secretaries as he walked towards the elevator.

-Yes sir. - Lizze nodded positively while, away from her boss's gaze, she raised her eyebrows questioningly at Sana, who just shrugged.

-Someone was obviously not happy with the visit earlier. - Sana whispered as soon as the elevator door closed, but even if he had been next to her, Aemond probably wouldn't have heard with so many thoughts screaming in his head at the same time.

And when he got into the car he made a decision, he would tell Y/n everything that had been said by his grandfather and mother as soon as they both finished dinner.

❦❦❦

Not far from there, at the Flavor of Seven Tea House, evil-intentioned tongues gnawed at each other in malicious whispers. As was already common, some of the members of Kings Landing's high society were sharing a table for afternoon tea in one of the most expensive places in the city.

The laughter was contained and the voices low and polite while, more cruelly than the lower class, they made cruel comments about each other's lives. The conversation at the table immediately ceased when the door of the tea house opened and Aemond Targaryen entered with his very serious look and his usual importance.

As soon as he arrived at the main counter, everyone started talking even more intensely and even more quietly so that no one around could hear.

-Look at his skin. - Elyrio Hayford murmured, taking a subtle sip of tea while pretending not to look in Aemond's direction.

The others at the table nodded positively while raising their eyebrows and biting their lips, also looking discreetly in the direction of the counter.

-I just wanted to run into Y/n around to make sure she was in Lys with him. - Elyrio's younger brother, Lion grumbled, taking some cookies from the older brother's plate.

-And how would you do that? - Jane Pyle asked laughingly, biting her lower lip and raising her eyebrows, drinking some of the black coffee in the cup.

-Hello Y/n dear, have you been seeing Lys with your grumpy and hot cousin in the last few days? - Jane spoke in a terrible imitation of Lion's voice and he just threw one of the cookies at her, making her laugh even more.

-And do you think it would be necessary to ask? - Elyrio whispered maliciously. - Just look at him! He's more tan than the surfers at Black Water, he looks like a shrimp. And I bet all my inheritance that she must be the same!

-What's he ordering at the counter? - Pia Rosby, who had her back to Aemond, hissed in curiosity. - As far as I know, Floris always says he doesn't eat sweets.

-I can't see very well. - Lion rolled his eyes. - That huge guy is blocking my field of vision.

-It looks like he's taking a strawberry cake. - And trying to be discreet, Elyrio leaned closer to Jane to try to see.

-Sometimes he'll take the cake to Floris. - Pia shrugged and everyone at the table laughed a little louder without meaning to.

-Floris is allergic to strawberries. - Jane rolled her eyes, still laughing. - That's besides the fact that she told Nia a while ago that he never brought her a single sweet, among other things that a boyfriend is supposed to give his girlfriend when he likes her.

The four of them looked away at the same moment Aemond turned and walked past them all once more without saying a word, leaving the tea house with the package in his hands.

-Everyone's going to the Targaryen charity ball this week, aren't they? - Lion smiled evilly as he stirred his iced tea with a straw.

-I wouldn't miss it for anything! - Jane smiled, biting her lip as she drank the last sip of coffee.

❦❦❦

Y/n smiled and hummed the music on the radio as she placed plates, cutlery and glasses on the dining table. The phone was next to the computer, and she had already called five of the places on the list. Unfortunately, none of them had pleased her enough. But she was still absolutely happy. Aemond had called her about an hour ago saying he would be home early from the company. And with a smile, she ordered food from a restaurant they always went to for family dinners.

Setting the table and waiting for Aemond Y/n felt like she was 9 years old again playing house where she and Aemond pretended to be a very happy couple, the only thing missing was the children she thought unconsciously putting her right hand to her stomach feeling a pang of pain in her heart , then shaking her head as if that could drive away the bad thoughts and then smiling at the thought that in a short time she and Aemond could have all of this.

Without warning, the door opened and Aemond entered, leaving the folder on the top of the sideboard where he kept his shoes. And walking towards him with a smile, Y/n could see a package of craft paper with yellow ribbons in his hands and frowned curiously.

-What is this? - She pointed with her chin at the package expectantly while pulling him by the neck and leaving a kiss on his lips, and Aemond shrugged his shoulders in a sign of unimportance.

-Only the best strawberry cake from Flavor of Seven.

-No way. - Y/n said, her eyes shining, going towards him and taking the package to open it as if it were a gift under Aemond's watchful eyes.

An easy smile appeared on his lips when he saw in Y/n that same childish joy that she had when he gave her sweets as a child.

-Do you know the best part of being an adult? - She suddenly looked very serious at Aemond and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he denied it.

-Being able to eat dessert before dinner. - She wiggled her eyebrows laughingly, placing the cake on the table while she went to look for a cake knife, leaving Aemond smiling behind. He looked down, still smiling, and then saw Vhagar sleeping hidden under the couch, with only her tail sticking out.

-Was she okay during the day? - He arched his eyebrows, following Y/n to the kitchen.

-Yup. - She nodded with a smile as she bit the tip of one of the strawberries she had taken from the top of the cake and put the rest in Aemond's mouth. - She spent most of the time hiding, but she ate, drank water, and walked around the apartment a few times.

-Well, the vet said it's normal for this to happen while she adapts to the environment. - He smiled slightly after swallowing the strawberry, staring at Y/n's smiling red lips.

And with his heart still aching from the dark day, he gently pulled her by the waist and kissed her sweetly on the lips, feeling the strawberry flavor of his own lips mixing with hers in a soft caress.

After breaking the kiss, Y/n just buried her head in the crook of Aemond's neck, rubbing herself lovingly against him while sighing when she felt him stroking her hair affectionately. And with a sweet smile she walked back towards the dining room to cut the cake, followed closely by the eldest who stopped when passing by the office itself.

Aemond smiled as he looked over the computer table and found some drawings of how she wanted the front of the studio to look, some sketches of the interior and even some drawings of Vhagar throughout the day. In one of them, the cat was eating, in another just sitting on the chair and in another hidden under the bookshelf with only her long, fluffy, gray tail showing.

-What did you order for dinner? - He observed the practically perfectly organized table with curiosity as the serving bowls were covered.

-That Westerlands restaurant that we always went to in the past. - Y/n cut a slice of cake and placed it on Aemond's plate. - Ravioli with mushrooms and cheese. - She smiled, placing a slice on her own plate while Aemond murmured in approval of the dinner menu.

The two ate dessert before dinner and amidst smiles and conversations Aemond opened the wine that Y/n had ordered with the food and they both laughed when the cork hit the shelf hard, making Vhagar show her teeth in discomfort and hide under Aemond's chair, who was delighted with the fact that she felt safe around him.

In the tranquility of dinner conversations, Y/n told him that of all the places, the one she liked the most already had a proposal and was off the market. And Aemond squeezed her hand, humming and vehemently affirming that she would find an even better place, making her smile and lean towards him.

When they finished dinner, Y/n held his hands and they hugged while dancing to the soft music that played on the radio. Aemond buried his head in her soft hair that smelled of his shampoo and closed his eyes in pleasure, then distributed kisses on her face and neck, still feeling the light taste of the wine they had drunk on his lips while he kissed her.

And lost in the sweetness of that moment, he decided that he would not talk about anything that happened earlier with Y/n, at least not that night.

❦❦❦

The next day he did not wake her up, Y/n slept soundly between the covers and before leaving the apartment, Aemond just placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling his own heart ache in a strange way when he left her that morning.

Compared to the previous day, the morning was completely monotonous, and when it was close to 11:00, he sighed and headed to the meeting room for something that was finally relevant that day.

❦❦❦

Just like the previous day, Y/n got up, took a shower, got dressed and went straight to Aemond's office to continue organizing everything necessary for the opening of the studio. The hours passed while she took note of suppliers of good quality inputs. And feeling tired, she decided to eat a fruit to wait for lunch.

While she ate the peach, the browser's news tab updated and Y/n read some of it, rolling her eyes at all the sensationalism that was being done about the lives of members of high society while smiling, but then a new piece of news appeared in the breaking news carousel and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest the same moment she read it and the smile slowly died on her lips until all that was left was a soft tremor of despair.

Aemond Targaryen announces his engagement to Floris Baratheon.

Y/n felt her hands shaking uncontrollably as she clicked on the news, shaking her head as her eyes burned.

"The son of the magnate Viserys Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen has just announced the engagement with Floris Baratheon. According to him, the two would wait to make the announcement at the annual Targaryen Inc. charity ball, but faced with such happiness, they couldn't wait to make the announcement. Apparently Aemond Targaryen went to Lys to choose an exclusive ring for Floris made in the land of the goddess of love that she will wear at the ball. Happy news, isn't it?"

Y/n wanted to scream, scream until her lungs exploded and she no longer needed to feel that searing pain in her chest. She had barely noticed when the tears began to run down her cheeks, leaving her eyes blurry, and at that moment the only thing she could feel was pain.

Without even dressing appropriately, she opened the door to Aemond's apartment and slammed it behind her as she left the place in tears wearing only a short yellow dress and bare feet, barely seeing the path ahead of her down the hallway to the elevator.

-Miss Targaryen? - The doorman called her as soon as he got off the elevator in the building's lobby, seeing the state she was in, and Y/n felt like his voice was miles away. - Do you need something?

-Just order a taxi for me, please! That's all. - She begged amid sobs, barely able to breathe as she tried to wipe her own tears without success, the only thing Y/n wanted at that moment was to get out of that place.

The man just waved as he looked at her with a curious frown, but Y/n barely noticed, too lost in her own sadness to look around. And when the taxi arrived about three minutes later, she got in and drove away from there, still feeling the hot tears running down her cheeks, and no matter how much she squeezed her eyes, the bright letters announcing Aemond's engagement to another seemed to not disappear from her mind.

❦❦❦

-Congratulations, Mr. Targaryen. - Sana said politely as Aemond walked towards his own room, returning from the meeting, and the man frowned in visible confusion.

-For your engagement, of course. - The secretary smiled and Aemond felt his stomach drop.

-Where did you get such nonsense, Mrs. Heyors? - His voice sounded cold and sharp, making Lizze and Sana shrink in their chairs.

-I-It's on all the news sites, sir. - The woman lowered her head, unable to look him in the eye, and Aemond instantly turned the woman's computer screen to him, clicking on the news site in the tab next to it.

Bile rose in his throat instantly when he saw the huge photo of him next to Floris below the headline saying that he had announced an engagement between the two.

-Seven fucking hells. - He hissed in shock and without saying another word to either of them, Aemond turned and practically ran towards the elevator with only one thing on his mind, Y/n.

The secretaries just looked at him with silent judgmental looks and after the elevator door closed, Sana pulled her own chair up to Lizze's desk.

-What is this man planning to do? - She whispered, quickly looking over her shoulder to check if anyone was coming. - Marry the daughter of the Baratheons and have sex with his cousin in free time?

-Sana! - Lizze scolded her immediately, afraid that someone would hear them.

-But it's the truth and you know it. - She rolled her eyes. - Do you think he let us leave early on Friday night out of the pure kindness of his dark heart? I have a slight idea of what the two of them must have been doing alone in that room after we left that day.

-What about this whole story about him going to Lys just to buy a ring for Miss Baratheon? - Lizze hissed, giving up on reprimanding her coworker. - Do me a favor, I've never seen this man even take the time to go with the girl to the corner and out of nowhere he made a 3 hour trip just to buy her a ring?

-It's obvious that he went to Lys with his cousin and now they're trying to cover up the whole thing. - Sana rolled her eyes, but then approached Lizze very seriously. - But I don't think he agreed to this engagement thing, did you see his face? It felt like he had come face to face with a bear in the forest and then I thought it was going to eat us alive.

❦❦❦

Aemond got into the car and sped away from Targaryen at high speed, not even stopping at the entrance. His mind was boiling with anxiety as he drove like a madman through the busy streets of Kings Landing. As he tried to call the apartment's landline without success.

-Seven hells. - He practically shouted as he hit the steering wheel hard. - What the fuck.

He had barely stopped the car in the building's parking lot and without even taking the key out of the ignition, he already got out, taking long steps towards the elevator, pressing the button continuously as if that would make the elevator arrive faster, as he pressed his short nails firmly into the palms of his hands.

When he finally reached the apartment, the door was unlocked and he jumped inside, already calling Y/n's name with his wide eyes shining with despair, but getting no response. As he approached the computer, he saw the screen frozen on his own face next to Floris's with the huge news of the engagement.

-Damn. Damn. Damn it. - He walked back towards the door, almost tripping over Vhagar's bowl full of food, who was sleeping under the couch once again.

Aemond ran to the building's reception in search of the only likely person who would have seen her. The doorman.

-She left a few minutes ago, sir. - The older man replied as he nervously played with a pen. - She asked me to call her a taxi, she seemed very upset about something.

-Where did she go? - Aemond demanded with a cutting voice.

-H-hotel Aegon's Fort. - The man stuttered shakily while Aemond barely heard and ran back towards the parking lot, leaving once again at high speed while feeling his hands sweating cold.

As soon as Aemond entered the hotel reception, everyone looked at him curiously, but he didn't care, he just walked to the reception as fast as his legs could carry him.

-I would like to know the room number of my cousin Y/n Targaryen. - He looked at the boy at the reception who swallowed hard, barely able to look him in the eye.

-I-I'm sorry sir, b-but she asked not to be d-disturbed. - The poor boy stuttered shakily looking at the counter as he answered.

-My family owns this hotel! - Aemond hissed softly, placing his hand firmly on the counter, looking at him with wide, threatening eyes. - Everything inside here belongs to me, including your job.

-What's your name, boy? - Aemond's voice sounded weaponous and the boy in front of him felt like he was going to vomit.

-It's-It's Tom sir.

-Very well Tim, I'm asking you something very simple… I think it's best to do it. - Aemond looked at him even harder as he spat the words, and the boy nodded quickly in response while stuttering Y/n's room number.

And without saying anything else Aemond walked with long strides to the elevator, barely able to breathe, feeling as if the air was thin, while his stomach churned with anxiety.

As soon as he reached the room at the end of the corridor on the thirteenth floor, Aemond knocked on the door with wild eyes as he waited for an answer. A few moments later, Y/n opened it and he could see her eyes filled with tears. When she saw him, she tried to close the bedroom door again, but Aemond held it firmly, preventing her from doing so.

-You have to believe me when I say that I didn't authorize any of this. - He said in a very serious voice, staring at her as he held the door.

-You didn't authorize it, but you allowed your mother to authorize it. - She laughed in derision, still trying to close the door without success.

And being careful not to hurt her, Aemond pushed the door with a little more force, entering the room, making Y/n grunt in anger and going in the other direction.

-Y/n, please… - He murmured with his eyes shining, bringing his hands to her face as he always did when he wanted to calm her down.

-Don't touch me! - She hissed in an angry voice full of venom, avoiding his touch while looking at him with wide eyes. - Your fiancée is Floris.

-Y/n, no. - He shook his head in a desperate attempt to explain himself.

-Go away Aemond, leave me alone! - She begged, pointing to the door and turning her back to him, once again feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes.

-You promised me! - Y/n cried, still with her back to him, but unable to contain the tremors in her body even as she hugged herself tightly to try. - You promised me you would solve this! That it would have nothing to do with Floris anymore, and now what? - She spoke with a broken voice, almost a sob turning towards him, and Aemond felt his heart breaking into pieces when he saw the pain so deep in her eyes. - Your face is in all the newspapers announcing an engagement!

-I didn't announce anything. - He whispered, slowly approaching her once again. - My mother and my grandfather…

-That's enough! - Y/n yelled at the mention of Alicent and Oto, her face contorted in anger once again. - I don't want to know! - She laughed in derision. - I really don't! Marry Floris, buy a really beautiful house for both of you and enjoy the woman you chose!

Y/n practically screamed through her tears as Aemond tried to approach her as if she were a wounded animal that would attack him with any false step.

-Y/n, I should have told you, my grandfather asked me yesterday to wait for the elections before ending everything with Floris. Just to not hurt his campaign. That's all. But I didn't agree to announce any engagement! - He shot the words quickly while trying to keep his voice soft before she interrupted him.

-It's not a big deal. - He muttered, getting closer to her who had walked towards the dressing table to get away from him. - I'm still yours.

-It's not a big deal? - She squeaked, looking even more furious, feeling her stomach churn when she heard him say that. - Aemond! How do you think I feel? - She gestured, almost choking on her words and crying. - How would you feel if I went out with someone else, let him touch me and then had a fucking announcement of my engagement in every newspaper in the country?

Aemond felt his blood boil at that thought and could almost taste iron in his mouth just by imagining whoever it was next to his Y/n, and unconsciously his face contorted with anger.

-I thought it wasn't a big deal! - She spoke ironically, glaring at him as she dried her tears with the back of her hands once again.

-Y/n, if I do this, there might be a chance for the two of them to accept us being together! It's not just about being with Floris, I don't even like her! But if we do this, my grandfather might help me convince my mother in some time…

-How long until I become your lover? - Y/n cried in a desperate voice, staring at him.

-Y/n…

-How long, Aemond? - She almost screamed, her voice muffled by crying and pain as her lips trembled. - How long until your grandfather decides that you need to marry her, and you accept his decision? And I become your lover, watching you give her everything you promised me! Do you even remember the things you used to say to me? Of everything we planned together?

-It's not going to come to that! - He denied immediately, feeling his heart break when he saw the hurt in her eyes. - I would never let it get to that point, Y/n.

-Your grandfather is one of the most cunning people I've ever met in my life, Aemond. Unlike your mother, he never liked me, not even for a moment. What makes you believe that if you roll over and show him your belly, he will somehow miraculously accept us and convince your mother of that too?

Aemond had no answer for that and with his silence Y/n just laughed humorlessly, bringing her hands to her face and squeezing her own eyes shut, holding back the urge to just scream in frustration and anger.

-I will fix the things. - Aemond murmured, taking her hands between his and holding them tightly, looking into her eyes. - I swear to you that I will.

-I can no longer believe the promises you make me when we are alone. - Y/n sniffed, pulling her hands from his and crossing her arms protectively around her body. - Because when the day dawns and your mother snaps her fingers, you will run to the hem of her skirt like the obedient son that you are. - She sobbed, her face contorted in pain as she clenched more and more tightly into herself. - And maybe I would do the same, but I don't have a mother to take me in.

The older felt broken, he felt as if at any moment he would collapse on the floor of that room because he could not bear to be the reason for her tears. And when he tried to get closer to her once more, Y/n pushed his hand away from her forcefully, wiping her tears angrily and walking in the opposite direction of the room.

-Don't you lay a hand on me! - She hissed in fury with her dilated pupils leaving her eyes completely dark in a frightening way in contrast to the redness caused by crying. - I'm not yours to touch anymore!

-And I want to make one thing very clear to you, Aemond. If you're having to choose between me and this whole farce, you can go ahead and marry Floris to make your grandfather and mother happy. - Pain and anger pulsed in Y/n's eyes as she spat those words about Aemond. - Because if you really loved me, you wouldn't have to be choosing!

-Don't you dare question the intensity of my feelings for you. - Aemond hissed, his eyes burning, holding her by the shoulders and staring at her as he felt his own blood burning in his veins. - Don't you dare minimize the pain I felt in these years without you! How hard it was for me to lose you!

-How hard was it for you? - She mocked, throwing her head back in mockery, freeing herself from Aemond's hands once again but then walking towards him in a theatrical way while spitting out the words. - Poor Aemond Targaryen, he went to the college of his dreams and stayed here in Kings Landing doing whatever he wanted with his life.

-I was stuck in a septum for five years! - She shouted with wide eyes, putting her finger in Aemond's face. - You have no idea what I had to go through alone while you were here living your life as if nothing ever happened. I was left with all the consequences of what we did!

-You don't know half of what happened! - She cried, her face contorted in pain and her lips trembling, tangling her hands in her own hair as she screamed. - Half of what I had to go through alone!

-I asked you more than once if you wanted to talk about it. - Aemond shouted, his face contorted with anger, losing patience for her touching such a sensitive spot. - I asked you if you were okay, and you dodged me as if I were a stranger, someone you couldn't trust!

The words almost sounded jumbled on his tongue as he spoke and he seemed to be three times his size in his fury, but Y/n didn't back down, she just got even closer with so much anger and pain that it seemed like she was being swallowed by them.

-Maybe you're not! - Maybe I shouldn't trust you! Because after everything we've been through, after all the promises, when I come back you're with someone else, and do you know what the problem is? - She hit his chest with her index finger furiously.

- I was an idiot for continuing to love you and thinking that you felt the same way too, that nothing had changed over the years. I was a fool for believing that everything would still be the same, for blindly believing in the promises you made to me. You're a liar! Liar! Coward! - Y/n screamed and cried uncontrollably, hitting his chest while Aemond tried to hold her arms without hurting her in the process.

-You haven't said you love me even once since I came back. - She sobbed against his chest with a broken voice. - Not once.

-I still do. - Guilt chewed and swallowed him for not being able to say the words he wanted to say to Y/n at that moment and he just stroked her disheveled hair, making another wave of fury take over the younger girl's body, who pushed him away when she felt despised by him.

-Then do something about it if you really still feel that way about me! - She challenged him with her eyes flickering with anger. - Go down to the hall and tell everyone what we are to each other!

-You know I can't do that. - He muttered irritated with his patience again on the line when he heard Y/n question his feelings out loud once again.

-Because you don't want to do it! - She practically growled infuriated. - Why don't you care about how I feel!

-Why do you act like you're the only one with feelings? How do you suppose I feel about this? - Aemond shouted loudly, walking towards her with wide eyes.

-I can't just go around doing whatever I want because these things don't just affect me! - He yelled at her, but even Aemond's screams weren't loud and shrill like hers, they were contained and slightly muffled as his face contorted with rage. - It affects our family too! Affect my grandfather! You should know this better than anyone else!

His angry screams almost made her retreat, unable to deal with Aemond's anger directed at her. But then he shouted something that made her heart break even more if that was possible.

-But no, you're just like your father, you don't care about what happens around you as long as you're satisfied! - When Aemond realized what he had done, it was too late to take back the words.

-You didn't say that! - She whispered, frozen in place, looking at him with her face red and slightly swollen from crying.

-Y/n I… - The eldest held his breath, momentarily freezing when he saw the hurt in her eyes, the fury draining from his body as quickly as it had appeared.

-If I'm as selfish and crazy as my dad, then what are you still doing here? - She laughed humorlessly and looked at the floor as she took a deep breath.

-Fuck… - Aemond grunted with his hands on his head, looking at her with teary eyes. - That's not what I meant!

-Do you know what my dad came to Kings Landing for my 16th birthday? - She looked at him very seriously. - He came to get me, to take me to live with him in Pentos. But I didn't go, I chose to stay! I chose you! But I guess you never chose me. - She cried muffledly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked at him.

-That isn't true and you know it! - He hissed, taking firm steps towards her. - In every life, in every choice I would always choose you! - Aemond spoke with conviction, looking at her with teary eyes.

-You're not choosing now. - She mumbled, barely able to look at him.

-I wish I had never set foot in that house. - Y/n whispered in the midst of her tears, feeling like she would collapse at any moment. - Never having met you. I gave myself body and soul to you, I gave you all of me, every part of my being. And you… - She choked on her tears, unable to say another word.

Aemond didn't know what to say, didn't know what to answer. If she had cut him with a knife, it wouldn't have hurt as much as those words. The two stared at each other for what seemed like hours, breathing heavily and their eyes full of tears, without saying a single word. Until Aemond's phone started ringing and anger bit Y/n in the ankle once again.

-It must be your grandpa. - She mocked, squinting her eyes. - Or perhaps your mother. - She curled her lips in false curiosity. - Or better yet, maybe it's your dear fiancée!

-Here you can give this to her to match the beautiful ring that I'm sure your grandfather already bought! - Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, ripping the sapphire necklace from her neck and throwing it at Aemond with force while his eyes widened, holding the beautiful and delicate silver necklace between his fingers, preventing it from falling to the floor.

-Get out of my room! - She screamed, pushing him away, barely giving him time to react as she held the necklace. - Get out of here! I don't want to see you anymore! Never!

-Please Y/n. - He looked at her in despair. - I'm begging you, let's solve all this!

-Don't come after me anymore! - She squealed between sobs and screams as she pushed him out of the room. - Better yet, forget that I exist!

-I don't think you'll have much trouble doing this again, considering the last time. - The venom in her voice as she said this before slamming the door could have killed Aemond right there.

And with the bang of the door slamming, Y/n collapsed sobbing on the floor, hugging her own legs and feeling the last remaining parts of her heart breaking into more pieces than she thought she could put together.

tag list: @afro-hispwriter @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @zenka69 @callsignwidow @amanda08319 @alesswift-blog @marialikescherries

Final notes: All must choose... who is right and who is wrong in this fight? I hope you enjoyed the chapter my dear readers! 💕🥺❤️‍🩹

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skeletonapricationday · 1 year ago

Text

Naughty girl

Warnings: Porn w/o plot, fem reader x nanami, deephthroating, face fucking, angry Kento, use if whore.

18+ minors dni

Nanami stared as you bent over the desk, looking for your lost pen. You had it five seconds ago, you kept swearing that up and down. It was frustrating because you were distracting him from his work.

Nanami wasn't a very sexual man. He lived to work and go home, that was it. Simple and sweet. Yet he was still a man at the end of the day. Seeing you bend over in that skirt, scrambling all around his office for your pen. It was troubling. He sighs and stands.

"If I promise to help you look will you leave my office?" He says in a gruff. His deep voice echoing off the walls.

"Yes sir-e!" You say excitedly and innocently. "I swear I used it yesterday to help you with that report. Now its missing, like missing missing." You say with a small pout. That cute quiver of your lip catching his vision. He tilts his head away, trying to ignore you.

"Why can't I just give you one of my pens?" He says exasperated.

"Because you also gave me this pen, so it's my favorite pen. No other pen will feel the same!" You shout confidently and annoyingly.

"If you like that one so much because I gave it to you, why not just let me give you a new one? You make no sense." He says logically, as always. Yet this wasn't about logic. He gave you this pen two years ago, when you finally cracked a thin layer of his hard shell. It was a sign of friendship and good faith, you were not going to give up on this.

"Because-because I want this specific pen okay." You say emrbassed. Not at all willing to admit the true reason to the logic king himself.

He nods slowly, like he wasn't going to bother arguing further. Simply scanning a bookshelf, seeing if you mistakenly placed it there. He swears to himself that the intelligent woman yesterday who helped him fill out that report is the same scatterbrain currently looking for her pen. Obliviously showing her body off in several interesting positions.

You slowly get onto your hands and knees, sticking a hand under the couch. Seeing if you can feel anything underneath. When you don't you arch your hips up further to keep yourself from slipping, as you peep your head underneath. "It's dark and dusty under here. I always thought you had too much OCD to not dust under the couch." You tease playfully. Just trying to joke with the serious man, like normal.

"Shut up and stop looking under there." You here the blank reply from behind you.

"No need to get so defensive. Of course this place isn't going to be sparkly clean, you work too much. Yknow I really respect that about-" You squeak as you're cut off. Your ankle being grapped, forcibly pulled from under the couch.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" He asks, using your ankle to flip you onto your back. "Or do I have to shout." The last half is also a question, yet he says it like a statement. His voice always cold and callous, despite his actual kind nature.

You blush at how strong he was. It was juxtaposition to your strength. Enough cursed energy to be a sorcerer compared to normal humans, but so weak you had to be an assistant. "Nanami...this position is a bit...interesting?" You say softly and confused.

"And your last position wasn't?" He drops your ankle. Giving you a chance to slowly rise up, sitting on your knees emrbassed. "If you're going to wear a skirt, please be self aware." He states simply.

Wait, what did he mean by that. Suddenly your whole face flushes, realizing you've been flaunting your ass. Basically putting yourself on display.

Nanami clears his throat, surprisingly loosening his tie a bit. Rubbing the side of his face annoyed and...flushed.

"Look I'm sorry...I just didn't think about it." You say shyly, biting your bottom lip. As much as you dreamed of Nanami lustfully gazing at your backside, you never meant to accidently do it. In your fantasy it was always purposful, taking advantage of his cold demeanor by turning him on. This was not a fantasy, you're right in front of him.

He stares down at you and sighs. "Come on, up off your knees." He says softly. That sentence makes you discretly clench your thighs. Imagining those words in a different scenario. You look at his offered hand and take it, slowly standing with his help.

"You didn't do it on purpose, it's okay." He's say in a coo, almost like he felt bad.

"What if I did?" You ask, surprising even yourself. You didn't do this on purpose, why did you say that? More importantly, why didn't you stop yourself?

"What?" You hear by your side. Looking at his stern face. Waiting for digust to roll in, hell maybe he'll even shout. Tell you to get out of his office, even worse maybe fire you.

Suddenly he laughs. Gripping onto the side of his desk...laughing. "You have alot of nerve." He says walking over to you. Raising a hand to your face. You expect the sting of a slap, but instead he squishes your cheeks together. "Cause then I'd call you an attention seeking whore." He tsks his tongue and smiles. An annoyed grin, faux politeness despite his harsh words.

"I-uhm- sorry I didn't really mean-" The pressure of his grip grows. Stopping you mid sentence.

"I won't hear any of your excuses." He pushes you against his desk, the table digging into the back of your thighs. A small patch of arousal staining your underwear. "In fact I'll reward you."

"What?" You say confused, knitting your brows. He lets out a small cold huff. Slipping his hand from your chin to down your throat. Softly rubbing the side of your neck.

"If your goal was to provoke me- it worked." His other free hand grabs yours. Pressing it against his thigh. You feel his hot throbbing length struggling not to reveal itself. "Do you know how hard it is trying to keep my dick tucked while helping you look around?" He coos to you. His fingers wrap around yours, causing you to the feel the entirety of his girth. "C'mon don't be shy now."

"Is that really...wow." You say breathlessly. The huge thing in your hand really was his cock. Straining against his professional trousers. "Why didn't you say anything?" You say softly. Gripping it curiously with your fingers, earning a soft groan from him.

"Its not exactly professional to hit on your assistant...also a tad too clichéd." He replies honestly. Running the hand on your neck down to your skirt. Flipping it up and letting out a soft pleased sigh. "I'm not one for business and pleasure but, this damned skirt." He chuckles softly. Rubbing your left thigh, watching it jiggle in response. "God it gets me rock hard."

You shiver at his touch. His hands warm against your thigh, but the heat of your aching cunt is hotter. "Nanami..." You whisper his name out softly.

He tsks his tongue in response. "I got my hand up your skirt, call me Kento." He leans in and kisses your neck softly, nibbling at the soft flesh. His hot breath sending goosebumps. "Kay'?" He whispers into your ear.

You nod softly. Letting out small sounds of pleasure as his lips travel across your throat. "Kento please your hand...it can go further than my thigh."You squeak out. Hoping the muscular man gets the message.

"Oh I know...but you've been naughty. Why would I give you what you want?" He coos backing away from you. Even pulling your hand away from his dick. "It be more punishing to leave you a dripping wet needy mess." He says with a smirk. A thing you never expected to see on his face. The pure unbridled joy he has in teasing you. Getting revenge for your two years of oblivious actions.

He smiles at you and sits back down in his desk chair. Going back to reviewing his documents despite your whines of protest. "Kento please.." You say walking behind his chair. Wrapping your arms around him, hands splayed across his chest. Rubbing the hard planes of muscle. "I don't even have to feel good, I just wanna feel you." You tempt into his ear. Kissing underneath it. He huff in response and expertly pulls your hands off his chest.

"I'd stop now. Bad girls get punished." He speaks sternly. Not at all humoring you. You don't listen and walk to the front of his chair, dropping to your knees, rubbing your face against his thigh. He finally lets go of his document. "Do you really want it that bad?" He coos softly. Like a false sense of security.

You nod against his thigh, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze. He gives you an evil smile, one that sends shivers down your spine. He undoes his belt buckle, tugging his pants and boxers to free himself. His huge length standing proudly at attention. "Go on pretty girl." He says brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. "Give it a taste." He says smiling.

You listen excitedly. Falling right into his trap as your lips curl around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head down after swirling your tongue around his tip. A pleasnt salty bead of precum meeting your tongue. You can only fit half of him in your mouth, even without a gag reflex the pure girth was already stretching your jaw. He throws his head back and groans. "Finally...a way to shut you up." He says happily, almost relaxed.

His hand curls into your hair, gripping it at the base. Successfully pulling your hair out of your way. A part of you was about to mention how sweet it was until. He grips hard and slams your head down, painfully making you take the rest of him down your throat. Your nose pressed against the soft curls of his pubes. A small surprised gag leaves your lips. "Oh darling don't you remember. You've been naughty, and naughty girls get what?" He asks you. He looks down at you amused for a second. Using his hand to pull you up and down on him. Small tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "I forgot, can't talk with your mouth full can you?" He laughs and groans. The two sounds like music to your ears.

This was gonna be a harsh night.

#x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #no use of y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #jjk fanfic #no plot whatsoever #no plot to be found #lime #lemon

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creampuffqueen · 6 months ago

Text

Something Nice

Yangvik Week Day 5: Cultural Differences

Summary: While the team packs for their next trip, Kavik has a surprise for Yangchen.

Word Count: 2440

(will be posted to ao3 later)

~~~~

Yangchen finds that packing supplies is a rather cathartic experience.

As an Air Nomad, gathering up her own possessions is relatively simple. After all, she owns almost nothing. All she really needs is her glider and a pack with some clothing.

But she has a team now. A team that travels alongside her wherever she goes. The thing about a team is that they need a lot of resources to go anywhere.

The others are still busy packing up their personal belongings from their Taku safehouse. Yangchen, getting finished early, has opted to keep herself busy by packing up the rest of the supplies they’ll need.

It’s calming, in a way. Even her past lives find it so. Humans still need the same things to survive as they did centuries ago. Bedrolls, food, medicine. Yangchen makes sure to pack extra ginger root; Jujinta gets seasick when out on the open water for long stretches of time. (Not that he’ll ever admit it).

Yangchen and her team are preparing to set sail for Port Tuugaq, and if everything goes well, they’ll be there for the better part of the winter. Former Zongdu Ashoona, on the edge of retirement already, has been by far the most receptive to her plans to reform the shang cities. Hopefully the long winter stay will be enough time to get things in motion, and convince the rest of the shangs and zongdus to follow suit.

Finishing up with the food, Yangchen makes her way to the common area of the safehouse, preparing herself for the most tedious task of all: packing away all of the paperwork.

The table in the middle of the room is littered with maps, records, reports, and more. Stacks of paper are piled haphazardly on small side tables. A bookshelf on the wall sags under the weight of an untold number of logbooks.

It all has to come with them. The other cities don’t stop needing her guidance just because she’s not living in them. Yangchen takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

“You look like you’re having fun,” A voice from the hallway calls out, snorting with laughter. Yangchen glances behind her as Yingsu enters the room, hefting a pack on one of her broad shoulders. The firebender unloads her luggage into the pile of already-gathered supplies, heading further into the kitchen.

“Not particularly,” Yangchen replies with a sigh. She starts gathering up the papers from the table, doing her best to keep them orderly. “But it has to be done.”

Yingsu appears again, leaning against the wall as she bites into an apple she’s produced from seemingly nowhere. “Fair enough, I suppose. Need any help?”

“Thank you, but no. I’ve got it.” The papers are sorted into neat piles, and Yangchen moves to start picking up all the logbooks. It won’t take much longer.

“I don’t mind helping. I’m all finished with my own packing, anyway.”

“It’s alright,” Yangchen assures her again, “I can handle it.” The stack of books in her arms has grown so tall she can barely see over the top of it. From the corner of her eye she spots Yingsu’s doubtful glance, though the woman says nothing.

It turns out that the spirits have a sense of irony. While she was looking at Yingsu, one of her lemurs darted beneath her feet. When she next steps, she trips over the tiny fuzzball with a shriek, heading directly for the floor. She only manages to save herself from face-planting by dropping her stack of books and bending the air beneath her, sending her back in the opposite direction until she’s upright once more.

Hysterical laughter comes from her periphery. Yingsu is doubled over, clutching her stomach. Ignoring her, Yangchen dusts herself off, gathering the dropped books. Pik, the culprit of the tripping, climbs up her robes to cling to her back, chittering as if in apology.

“You’d think you’d have learned by now that we don’t mind helping out around here,” Yingsu chastises. She discards her half-eaten apple on the center table and grabs some books.

Yangchen doesn’t answer.

Standing from the floor with books in her arms, Yingsu wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “But if you won’t listen to me, I suppose I can just let your pretty waterbender do the convincing. Since it seems like he’s the only one that can ever get through to you.”

“I don’t know if I’d refer to Akuudan as ‘pretty’,” Yangchen replies primly, “I think ‘rugged’ describes him far better.”

“Describes who far better?” Jujinta walks into the common area, brow knitted in concern.

Yingsu grins. “You-know-who.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to listen to this conversation.” Jujinta adds his bag to the pile and turns on his heel.

Yangchen shoots a glare at the other woman, face warming. “You’re twisting my words.”

“Only because you’re trying to play games with yours.” Yingsu finishes placing the logbooks on the table and goes to grab more.

Yangchen doesn’t get a chance to reply, because Tayagum and Akuudan choose that moment to trundle into the room, laden with more bags.

Seriously, how do people manage to accumulate so much stuff?

“I think that’s the last of it,” Tayagum says, wiping his forehead.

“Don’t put it down yet; we need to start bringing everything to the boat,” Akuudan reminds his husband.

“We’ll be finished with this soon,” Yingsu adds, “Then I’ll help haul stuff out.”

Yangchen pauses, glancing around the room. “I don’t think Kavik is done yet. He hasn’t brought his things out.”

The three others share a glance between them. For some reason, it makes Yangchen feel oddly flustered.

“He was still in his room, last I checked,” Akuudan offers.

“Maybe you should go check on him. See if he needs any help.” Yingsu’s voice is too even.

Yangchen pins the others with a glare. “Why do I feel like you all know something I don’t?”

Tayagum and Akuudan start grabbing bags and heading for the door. Yingsu has found the sudden need to make sure all the papers are evenly stacked.

Unfortunately, Yangchen’s interest is piqued. Besides, as team leader, it’s her responsibility to check up on everyone and make sure things are running smoothly. She can’t have Kavik delaying their departure, can she?

Ignoring the looks of the rest of her team, she heads down the hallway and makes for Kavik’s room.

He doesn’t answer her first knock. Or her second. For a moment, she wonders if he’s actually in his room, as she raises her hand for a third knock.

The door opens before her fist can land, just wide enough for Kavik to stick himself halfway out of the room. “Oh! Yangchen. Hello.”

His greeting is oddly formal. It makes something in her chest feel weird.

“Are you almost finished packing? We need to leave soon.”

“Yes, I’m almost finished.”

He doesn’t say anything else. He just stands there, as if waiting for her to leave, blocking the entrance to his room.

Kavik has never minded her seeing his room before.

“Why are you acting so weird?” Yangchen asks bluntly. “Are you hiding something?”

“I’m not acting weird!”

“You are,” She insists. She attempts to peek over his shoulder, but only catches a glimpse of something… orange? Before Kavik steps fully out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Why in the spirits’ name would he have something that shade of orange?

Yangchen crosses her arms with a huff. To box her out of his room, Kavik has stepped closer, the sudden lack of distance enunciating their height difference. He isn’t much taller than her, but this close, she has to tilt her head up to look him in the eye.

She swallows, her mouth feeling oddly dry. “I thought we agreed to stop keeping secrets from each other.”

Kavik’s lips curl into a pout, and she can’t help the way her eyes dart to look at them, just for a second. “It’s not a secret, it’s a surprise. There’s a difference.”

“A surprise? What for?”

Some kind of internal battle seems to wage behind his eyes for a moment, as if weighing his options and deciding the best move forward. Wordlessly, he opens the door again, stepping into the room to let Yangchen see what he’s been guarding from her view.

“It was meant to be a surprise for you.”

Laid out on his bed is a garment in the same shade of orange as her usual robes. Brown and white fur trims the hood and sleeves, with delicate beading decorating the front pocket. She recognizes what it is - she sees him wear something similar often enough.

A kuspuk. In her colors.

The room suddenly feels too hot. “Kavik…”

“I noticed that you don’t have a lot of warm clothing,” He starts to explain, quickly, nervously, red coloring his cheeks. “And since we’re going to be in the South Pole during the winter, I just thought, you know, you might want something a bit warmer -”

“In my colors? You must have gotten it custom made.”

“Handmade, actually.”

Her jaw falls open. “Kavik, you made this?” She draws a hand over the kuspuk, feeling the soft fabric beneath her fingers. The tiny beads on the pocket are forming swirling patterns, mimicking the design of her wooden prayer beads. And the fur…

“Where did you get bison wool?”

Kavik gives an awkward chuckle. “Remember when I went to visit my parents?”

She does. Some time after their plans to stay in Port Tuugaq were finalized, Kavik had asked for some time to visit his parents, saying that he wanted to see them before they spent several months on the other side of the world. Yangchen had of course granted him leave, though she spent the few weeks he was gone missing him terribly.

Not that he needs he know that part.

"I might have made a slight detour on the way back and stopped at the Northern Air Temple for a night.”

“You’ve been working on this for that long?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long process to make one.”

“No, I mean - you’ve been keeping this a secret for all this time? So you could surprise me with it?” She doesn’t know why the idea is so hard for her to fathom. Or why it’s making her heart beat in such a quick rhythm.

Kavik blinks at her slowly. “You deserve something nice. You work hard enough for it.”

The force of his gaze makes her face warm. She has to look away.

“Can I… try it on? Or is it not ready yet?”

Kavik nods. “Yeah, you can try it on. Make sure it fits; I had to eyeball all of your measurements.”

A heartbeat later, his face flushes even redder as he realizes the implication he’s just made. “I mean - I had to, uh, guess all the measurements. I wasn’t…”

Yangchen hides her giggle behind her hand, amused with how flustered he looks, even as her own face heats up. Leaving him to stumble over his words, she slides the garment over the top of her robes, admiring the craftsmanship.

“I didn’t know you could sew.” It fits her well, though the hem goes a bit far past her waist.

Kavik takes a step closer, eyes roaming over her form. Yangchen takes a deep breath, reminding herself that he has to look at her in order to make sure it fits properly.

“I’m still not the best at it,” He says quietly. “I had my mother give me a crash course while I visited. We did nothing but practice stitches the entire time I was there. And Akuudan had to teach me how to do the beads; he’s surprisingly good at detail work.”

Ah. So the others knew about this. Yangchen absent-mindedly strokes the fur of one of the sleeves. “And which Air Nomad did you wrangle into giving you some of their bison’s wool?”

“It’s from Mingyur’s bison. He was happy to donate it.”

Yangchen’s chest seizes, hand freezing where it touches the wool. Fengbao’s wool. Wool from Nujian’s older sister. Her eyes fill with tears before she even realizes it, breathing coming in sharp gasps.

Kavik’s face falls. He reaches for her hands. “What’s the matter? Was that not okay - oof!”

Yangchen bypasses his hands to throw her arms over his shoulders, dragging him in for a tight hug before her tears can start to fall. He flails for a second, surprised, before his hands come to rest gently on her waist, returning the hug.

They hold each other close for a long moment until Yangchen is able to reign in her sniffles. Even after she calms, a small part of her wants to stay there forever, held in the little bubble of Kavik’s embrace, safe from the needs of the world.

Alas, her wish is futile. Kavik breaks the hug first, though he doesn’t go far. He brings his hands to her shoulders, smoothing them down the orange sleeves of the kuspuk. “Are you okay with the length of the sleeves? I can tell it’s a bit long; I’ll go ahead and bring the waist up a little.”

“It’s perfect, Kavik. I love it.”

His smile sends a wash of warmth over her, a balm to soothe away her sadness. “I’m glad.”

Yangchen reaches for his hand. She twines their fingers together, squeezing. Words don’t seem like enough to express her gratitude for him. She hopes he can see it in her eyes.

Kavik looks like he wants to say something more. He swallows, squeezing her fingers back. His eyes meet hers, pupils so dark they could swallow her whole. Yangchen’s breath catches in her chest.

He’s so close to her. If she reached up, just a bit, she could…

“Are you two nearly finished? We need to leave.”

Jujinta’s monotone cuts between them, startling them apart. Kavik steps away, glaring at the young marksman standing in his doorway. “Jujinta, do you mind?”

Juji looks decidedly unimpressed. “The Avatar has a schedule to keep, you know.”

Yangchen shakes her head, attempting to clear her head from… whatever that was. “Quite right. Come on, we need to head for the docks.”

Kavik gestures to the kuspuk she’s still wearing. “Do you want me to hem that?”

She supposes he may as well. Though she hates to part with it so soon; it really is warm and cozy.

Still, she slips it off over her head and passes it back to Kavik with a wink. “Give it to me again when we get there. I promise I’ll pretend to be surprised.”

#yangvikweek2024 #yangvik #yangchen x kavik #team yangchen #chronicles of the avatar

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rogersideup · 2 years ago

Text

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter two

Inhale, Exhale

Series masterlist

Previous part: Welcome to Greenwood Next part: Nice to be Needed

Word count: 4,668

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of anxiety attacks and mental health issues.

When Steve received the key to his own place, it was the first time in a while he felt like life was starting to look up. He had months of insecurity through every aspect possible.

Never knowing where he would sleep next, which country he was going to have to flee to in order to escape a high security prison cell for another day, most times he didn't even know where his next meal would come from.

He spent his days with his head held low, anxiety pumping through his veins over the thought of someone recognizing him, he never went more than a minute or two without looking over his shoulders.

But the key dangling off a metal ring was a promise of four safe walls so long as his relaxed landlord didn't ask many questions, but he planned on never giving him a reason to.

Considering he had nothing but a backpack full of clothes, and money he had stashed away in the event he would ever find himself in a situation like this, he knew he needed to buy some stuff to make his home more comfortable.

Even though he wanted to create a cozy sanctuary in his new house, he still felt a sense of uncertainty. At any given moment his situation could change. His burner phone could ring for help, a neighbor could report him; springing him back to his feet until he could find a new place to settle, or there could be some sort of agreement in favor of him being pardoned. The former is most unlikely, but Steve needed a mental plan for any given situation at any given moment.

Instead of being wasteful and buying all new furniture, he spent the days between getting his key and move in day finding second hand furniture to fix up to his liking.

He either had all the time in the world to restore a beautiful dining room set, or none at all, but either way he needed a place to eat. And sit. And sleep.

The goal he had in mind was for his place to be nice enough to not look suspicious if a neighbor needed to pop in for any sort of reason and for it to feel homey, but he also wanted to be okay with leaving it all behind in the case of an emergency.

He curated quite the collection over the course of a handful of days. Scouring flea markets, thrift stores, and local postings, he made sure to get all the basics and necessities of a good home.

Of course things like cookware and silverware, bath towels and bath mats. A dining room table he actually loved, a couch that was listed as gently used but looked like it had never been sat on before, a bookshelf, a bed frame, a couple of side tables for the bedroom and living room, a desk, and a really beautiful lamp.

He also made sure to pick up a couple things that were less essential but made his house more homey. Fun trinkets to scatter around to make it feel and look more eclectic, a few different rugs for the common areas and his bedroom, some art supplies to keep himself busy, a few second hand puzzles also too keep himself busy, and some framed art to hang on the walls.

He'd get more for himself when and if he got the chance to, but he felt confident that it was a really good start. Especially on move in day when he managed to get himself all set up, and his place looked like it was curated full of well loved stuff.

Like how the little scuff mark on the leg of the entryway table told a story of that one time his nephew was roller skating inside the house and accidentally ate it, or how the little golden book ends holding up his collection of thrifted books were in the shape of a wiener dog. He'd read them eventually, but they already looked like their spines had been cracked and bended as if they were his favorite books. The dining table hosted many dinner parties in his days back in wherever he had come from, he should probably decide that soon. The chair tucked into the desk with art supplies sprawled across the top looked as if he had spent many hours there trying to get the details of a painting juusssstttt right.

It looked like home, and it felt like home. It was convincing enough to be a home.

Tomorrow he decided he would buy himself a few throw pillows for the couch and a couple extra blankets just to make it feel more comfortable.

Maybe a few more shirts and a couple new pairs of pants so nobody wondered why he wore the same outfits on a tight rotation.

Although he planned on staying closely within his home and backyard, only venturing off to the grocery store and empty outdoor spaces to go on runs and get fresh air when he could, the possibilities felt endless.

For the first time in months, he plopped down on the couch with ease, laid back with a deep exhale and closed his eyes. For the first time in months, he could finally sleep.

And sleep he did. For hours and hours and hours, completely on accident. Sure, he slept a bit every night, but it had been ages since he could actually rest. He awoke to the sound of a car pulling into a driveway, so he peaked out the curtains in his living room window to see your black sedan pull up in front of your house.

Familiarizing himself with all the new sounds of this little neighborhood would come with time. Life felt a little unreal as he flicked on the lights in the living room, trying to process how long he had been asleep for, and how long he had been ignoring his body's pleas for some real rest.

He felt as though the sleep should've made him feel refreshed and rejuvenated like a whole new person, like after almost a full 8 hours maybe he would've been energized enough to keep trucking along in the process of hanging up the hooks he got for the front door, or maybe even scrounging up something to eat, but that wasn't the case. His brain was still foggy with exhaustion, ready to force him into another 12 to 24 hours of pure dormancy.

Running his hands through his long hair, and rubbing his face into his palms, his heart rate skyrocketed as he heard footsteps up the path to his front doorway.

His head snapped over to the door, and he was quick to investigate through the little glass window creating a small archway at the top of his door.

You approached with a few things in your hands, and carefully shifted to free one of your fists to politely knock on the door.

Steve knew he recognized your friendly face from somewhere, but he had met so many kind people on his journey of trying to furnish his new place that he couldn't pinpoint where exactly he knew you from. That feeling of familiarity did nothing to ease the anxiety thumping in his chest and scratching at his brain while his hand unlocked and opened the door.

The moment he opened the door, your heart was pounding out of your chest too, he was absolutely gorgeous. Even prettier than you remember all those days ago when he came into Nice To Be Kneaded. Although Georgia shot you a text in the middle of the workday to let you know she caught a glimpse of the dream boat moving in next-door and he had that same luscious beard and dirty blonde hair, you still couldn't be 100% certain it would be him until he was right in front of your face.

And now here he was. With sleepy blue eyes, and his golden brown hair in its full glory. With no hat on his head you got to appreciate the way it fell with a hydrated bounce, and curled upwards around the base of his neck.

"Hey there, Honey." You said calmly, empathizing with his tired eyes. As soon as the word 'honey' fell out of your mouth, he immediately felt that warm feeling he got in the bakery, and remembered you in a heart beat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head. Kind've a lie, but it wasn't your fault.

"Not sure if you remember me but I'm-"

"From the bakery right? Nice To Be Kneaded?" He cut you off, but only to prove that he did remember you without needing the reminder. Something about you made him want to put in the effort.

"That's the one!" You smiled. "I actually live right next-door in house 306, just wanted to stop by and bring you a few things to welcome you home." He couldn't help the smile on his face as you handed him a pastry box full of cookies, and a fresh loaf of bread. "I saw you unloading your truck when I left for work this morning and remembered you liked chocolate chip, but I kind've mixed in a few other flavors for you to try. I'm also not too sure what else you liked but figured everyone loves some fresh baked bread."

"That's perfect, thank you so much" He smiled and set the box down on the entry way table right next to him. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime! How's the place coming along?" You made friendly conversation in hopes of getting to know your new neighbor a little better.

"It's coming together, although I think I underestimated how much work it would be to actually get it all done." He responded, happy with the amount of information he was giving.

"You live here by yourself?" You questioned with good intentions, he could practically smell the goodness radiating off of you.

He could tell right then and there that a sweet little thing like you was going to be dangerous in this game of mystery and anonymity he was trying to play.

"I do, not much of a roommates kinda guy." He shrugged with a grin, leaning on the doorway anticipating more conversation to flow.

"I mean, I was getting more so at the wife and kids type of answer" You giggled.

"Oh! Right! Cause this is a place where most people have wife and kids, huh?" He questioned.

"Nothing but the simple suburban, white picket fence one-boy-one-girl kinda families here" You admitted. "I live alone too, us single folk are a rarity here. We're kinda like the neighborhood unicorns."

"You live alone?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed in what looked like slight concern.

"I do." You said confidently. "It's a safe neighborhood, kids leave their bikes and toys out all night long an nothing ever happens to 'em. I think you'll love it here."

"I really hope so. So far it seems great, really friendly neighbors." He referred to you, the first one to come say hello to him. "So, you work at the bakery?"

"I own the bakery actually" you stated proudly.

"Oh, no way! That's awesome" Steve enthused. "I was planning on stopping by again soon, I really loved it when I went."

"We would love to have you back anytime" You welcomed him while pulling something out of your back pocket and holding it up to his face. "But when I tell you something is on me, that means it's on me, not leave money when I'm not looking."

In your hand, a crisp $20 bill. A sly and lopsided smile smeared across his face. You were a force to be reckoned with. "You have no proof that was me." He defended himself playfully.

"I have security cameras, Steven..."

"Okay, you have some proof that was me. But that's none of your business. I tip well everywhere I go." He refused to take the $20 from between your fingers. "Plus, your cookies were delicious. Worth every dollar I have to my name."

"You're going to get this $20 back whether you like it or not!" You giggled. "I know where you live"

"This is the second time I've met you, and the second time you've threatened me." He pointed out with a raised eyebrows.

"Well this is the second time you've given me reason to threaten you!" You defended yourself.

"I'm not taking that back" he denied.

"Well I'm not accepting it."

"Well then this is really awkward, isn't it?" Steven asked, obvious stubbornness in his eyes.

A plan popped in your head, and it's started with you faking defeat. "Ugh. Fine. But next time, you better not try this again!"

"There won't be a next time if you don't let me pay" He challenged, still with a grin he was trying to hold back.

"Oh we're going to be having a lot of arguments then" You laughed and his obvious ignorance of what it would be like to be neighbors with you. "In all seriousness, I can't imagine moving to a new place like Greenwood all on your own would be easy. So if you need anything at all I'm right next door, and if I'm not there I'm usually across the way at 309, or over at the bakery."

"Thank you, that's very sweet. Same goes to you, I'll be here." He offered sincerely, mentally slapping himself across the face for opening up far too quick and being way too trusting. Two promises to himself he had already broken after not even one full day in his new place, 304.

"You look sleepy so I'll leave you be now. Have a good night, honey. Don't be a stranger." You gave him a sweet little wave goodbye and started slowly walking away.

"Thanks for the treats, have a good night."

He closed the door and got settled down again, right back on his couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Though he was exhausted, something about the setting sun made him feel uneasy and on edge.

That feeling remained deep within the pit of his stomach throughout the whole night, as if the moment he fell asleep something bad would happen. He had a vision playing in the back of his head that if he let his eyes close, the next time they opened he would be surrounded by a swat team.

Guns drawn, shouting at him to stay down. He'd see red laser dots all over his chest, tens of different weapons threatening to end his life if he had made one wrong move. He had been in that position before, hands restrained and the authorities taking all his autonomy right back.

Each time he found a way out of the mess he found himself wrapped up in, but this time he wasn't so sure if there would ever be a way out.

Those thoughts kept him up for every dreadful hour of the night. He couldn't even get himself to step into his bedroom, the thought of sleeping in a bed was so suffocating for some reason.

So he stayed on the couch and tried his hardest to turn his brain off. All 12 hours of moonlight were spent with nothing but the soft glow of the television illuminating the living room while clutching his blanket around him as if his life depended on it. He watched lighthearted cartoons, nostalgic period pieces, and comedies, yet nothing soothed his brain.

Every once in a while, his eyes would slowly shut until he gained an awareness of what was happening and his brain would protest.

You're not safe. Open your eyes.

They'd snap open and his thoughts would startle him so much it would take a good while for his eyelids to fall heavy again.

Bucky is in a cryochameber. Where's Nat? Sam? Clint, Scott, Sharon?

You kissed her, then forced her out of her home country.

This is your fault, you monster.

Then, he'd be wide awake for hours. Indulging in a cookie every so often, each one reminded him of the days his mother would bake off a batch for him to raise his spirits when he was far too sick to even get up out of bed.

He didn't know if the buttery, chocolatey goodness in his mouth and the distant memory of his mother was helping him old back or encouraging the tears that welled in his eyes every time his brain started thinking a little too hard.

He recalled some of the last few words Natasha managed to mumble to him before he had to take off. "Things are going to get hard, you're going to be mentally exhausted. You'll hit walls that you'll think are impossible to break down, and when you do, there's going to be another wall behind it. You'll feel like giving up, but don't. Take it one day at a time, and if that's still too overwhelming, take it one breath at a time. I'll see you soon"

So that's what he did until the sunrise. He pondered why tonight or all nights was so hard. Maybe it's because he was experiencing the luxury of a roof over his head and a ever distant promise of temporary stability while he was completely unsure if that was the situation any of his team were in.

He just wanted to know that they were safe, he wanted them to be back on their feet and happy after what they've been going through. Even though they all willingly joined his fight because they were just as passionate about the cause, he couldn't help but to feel like all of this was his fault.

So, he took it one breath at a time. A deep inhale, hold. A deep exhale, hold.

And holding up to the only reliable promise in the grand scheme of the universe, the sun rose.

The glow of its soft morning rays though the sheer curtains of the windows through the house was the only thing that managed to quiet all the thoughts in his head.

He chose greenwood for a reason, he was safe here. No amount of worrying about other people would change their current situation; what's done is done.

Inhale, hold. Exhale, hold. Inhale again.

His tired eyes were begging for rest, but his body and mind were restless. So he picked himself up off the couch, put on some running shorts and sneakers, then set out of clear his head.

He had to run through quite of bit of the residential street before making it to the nature preserve walking trail, so he settled for a slower jogging pace as to not alarm anyone of his faster than average speed and stamina.

A few greenwood residents smiled at him as he passed by like a breeze, and he'd give a small wave in return.

Once he made it to the trail, he paced himself up and down it for miles and miles until his stomach reminded him that it had been a good while since he consumed anything but cookies, and his invasively droopy eyes reminded him that he set out on the run with the only goal being he could tire himself out enough to fall asleep once more.

He remembered there was a little diner only a mile from his front door, which was nothing but a breezy walk in the park for him. So he ran there from the trail, happy that he always keeps a bit of cash with him wherever he goes. He exchanged it for the biggest breakfast burrito he'd ever seen, and jogged it all the way back to his place where he packed it into his stomach. But on his way in, something caught his eye under the doormat.

A tiny corner of something was poking out from underneath the brown bristles, and when he bent over to pull it out in attempts to investigate, he could only smile when his fingers were now holding a $20 bill.

One silly little sign of you, a shower, breakfast burrito, and run later he was finally able to sleep.

Still not in his new room, but sleep nonetheless. It still counted even if it was on the couch.

Just as expected, he woke up as the sun was setting. But he vowed he could make this night a little different from the previous, because he was going to fight off the unwelcome emotions with a deep inhale, a deep exhale, and lay some paint onto a canvas.

That was something he hadn't been able to do in multiple years. Steve always hated that he let his commitment to being Captain America take over and stomp parts of his life that he really enjoyed before it changed.

Artistry was one of them. As he sat down at his desk, the hours passed by pretty quick as he laid down a pencil outline of a pretty lake the trail led him to today. As he finally made it to the paint portion, he discovered that even after everything he had been through, his ability to get paint all over his hands and forearms was still well intact.

He put his brushes down for a bit to let the first layer of paint dry, and decided to work on cleaning out all the boxes he had collected through the process of furnishing his house. He had thrown them in the garage to make it a problem for future him, and there was no better future than right now. Quite literally waiting for paint to dry.

He opened up the garage door for easy access to his recycling bin that was already on the curb for pickup on the morning, then started breaking down all the boxes with a box cutter.

Though it wasn't too terribly late, he still payed the tiniest bit of mind to the house across the street, and two doors over. All it's lights were on and the blinds were drawn allowing him to sneak a little look inside.

It was filled with people, all sitting around a table drinking what looked to be wine. They were all laughing together, and they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.

It made his heart ache a bit, he missed the days where he had a little chosen family and he was the one laughing without a care in the world. A bigger part of him was happy to see other people around him finding joy in their surroundings.

His mind went back to the big cardboard stack in front of him, it stole all his focus until he heard a sweet voice calling out to him.

"You know, you could build a pretty cool castle with all those boxes, Honey?"

As he looked up at sweet little ol' you, his heart skipped a beat and a strand of his hair flopped over his forehead.

You thought it was the cutest thing ever. The muscular hunk in some comfortable shorts and a relaxed t-shirt, his strong forearms covered in splotches of paint. He just looked like the tallest glass of domesticated water.

"Well I wish I would've thought of that about 10 boxes ago" He smiled, you took his good response as permission to walk up his driveway.

"The cool thing about cardboard boxes is that you could tape em' back up and it's like you never even flattened it out in the first place." You pointed out.

He couldn't help but to notice how pretty you looked tonight. With your hair curled, a full face of makeup and a put together outfit, he could only assume you had some plans to get to.

"You know what? I think if I see one more box I might lose my mind." He admitted. "Maybe the cardboard castle is something we can save for a rainy day in the far far future."

“Then don't look down" Your laugh sounded like the most beautiful slice of heaven to him. "What are you doing up this late? And why are you covered in... paint? Did you paint the walls today?"

"I'm a bit of a night owl, and no not the walls. I was painting a picture." He explained.

"Ohhhh, you're an artist?" You questioned. A hot hunk with a creative side? Swoon.

"Artist is a bold word" He declined the title. "I paint every so often as a hobby."

"Oh, so you're a humble artist!" You insisted.

"If you insist" He smiled. "Why are you up so late?" He reciprocated the questions.

"Well, Georgia across the street is hosting game night and I got caught up late at work so I'm just heading over now." She explained. "I was just going to bail since it's getting late but she said they're about to start a round of monopoly."

"That means you guys are going to be up and going until 2am." Steve pointed out with a grin.

"Yeah, well, I have the day off tomorrow so I guess I can stay out passed my bedtime" You shrugged, suddenly feeling bad that Steven would be here by himself breaking down boxes while the rest of the block was having fun. "Have you met Georgia and Michel yet?"

"I don't believe I have! Just you and James from a few doors down."

"Really?! Why don't you come join us? Like you said, monopoly goes on for ages so that'll give you plenty of time to get to know everyone." You invited him. "They told me to bring a guest"

In any other situation, he would've said yes. He was a pretty sociable person, most would consider him an outgoing extrovert, but throwing himself into that situation was like throwing meat to a pack of wolves. There would be way too many people who had far too many questions, anybody in there could recognize him at any second.

"I don't see any situation in which I could make myself even slightly more presentable even in the time span of a round of monopoly." Steve declined politely. "But thank you, hopefully next time."

"Hey, I understand! After a whole day's work sometimes you gotta recharge by yourself." You didn't push, and that alone made you feel like a breath of fresh air to him. "And just for the record, I think you still exceed all expectations even covered in paint."

"Oh stop it" He shrugged the compliment off his shoulder, with a giggle. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Just wait until you see me with a hairnet on, Steven. I look like one of the lunch ladies down at Greenwood Middle." You shook your head. "It gets rough."

"So you're a humble lunch lady?" He teased.

"Yeah, something like that" You laughed at his charm. "Would you be free at any point tomorrow? I'd love to show you around Greenwood- take you to all the best spots."

Something in your gut told you that he needed a friend, someone to help him get a hold on the lifestyle that comes with living somewhere like this before he'd open up to more people in the area. He was pulling you in, but you had no problems with that.

"...Yeah" He agreed slowly at first, he definitely had to think about it. "Yes. That sounds great." He said more confidently this time.

"Okay cool, what time works best for you?"

"I'll be here all day." Steve shrugged.

"Well considering I have monopoly on the schedule, how about late morning. Does 11am work?"

"Perfectly" Steve smiled.

"Cool, meet me at my house at 11 am" You smiled right back. "Have fun with those boxes"

"I mean, it's no monopoly but it'll definitely keep me occupied until 2 am" He chuckled. "Have fun at game night."

"Will do. See you tomorrow, Honey."

Next part: Nice to be needed

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10

To be added to the tag list, just let me know <3

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historitor-bookshelf · 5 months ago

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[...]

#celefax spotted #warhammer 40k #40k #totally normal for an Inquisitor to think like that #reporting live from the bookshelf

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fynnthefeline · 17 days ago

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Hey there, fabulous fur-friends! 🐾

Ah, the Weekend snooze—a time-honored tradition in the Fynniverse! Today, I’m reporting live from Dreamland, snuggled into my cozy, paw-print blanket. Half on my human, half on the couch, fully committed to maximum comfort. 💤 My little paws are sticking out like antennae for dream signals, and I might just be chasing something in my sleep—perhaps that mischievous mouse toy or an elusive spot on the vinyl shelf.

It’s been quite the week! From cardboard castles and ninja moves in my cozy bed, to undercover missions in the bookshelf (and slightly failing at hide-and-seek), I’ve been a busy boy keeping my human entertained. And yes, I may or may not have thrown some zoomies into the mix. 🐾💨

But now? It’s time to recharge. My little mouth is slightly open, catching some Zzz’s and dreaming of treats, adventures, and maybe even my next big pounce! Saturdays are for snoozing, snuggling, and soaking up all the love.

Wishing you all a weekend as cozy and peaceful as mine. And remember—every cat deserves a blanket to snuggle in, a human to love, and a forever home to dream in. 🐾 Adopt, don’t shop!

Purrs and blink kisses,

Fynn 🐾 #FynnsTales

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lynnaredfield3383 · 25 days ago

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Swearing, not my characters. Reader is fem. Burst is hero name. (Quirk is paralysis that she can release in short bursts or one full shot, completely paralyzing target for days. Was at UA in Class A.) This became a Part 1, lol.

BANG! You looked up from your recent case report to see none other than Dynamight standing in the doorway. As usual, his expression that of someone having their cheerios shit in. Or so the expression went.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me!"

You stood up, closing the door, but noticing the curious glances of your sidekicks thanks to his outburst.

"Because it's none of your damn business!"

"The hell it isn't!"

You threw your hands up exasperated as you moved to your desk, leaning against it. Those vermilion eyes bore into yours their intent obvious.

"This is why. Katsuki fucking Bakugo comes rushing into to save Lil ol' me. Fuck that and your fucking ego. I'm not your weak little girlfriend looking for you to save me. I don't need to be fucking saved."

Bakugo broke eye contact, suddenly interested in the bookshelf next to him.

"We broke up," he mumbled.

You felt like an asshole, but at the same time, you weren't backing down from him.

"Shit, Kats. I'm sorry, but it doesn't change the fact I don't need you to rescue me. I've got this covered."

"Really? He demolished your fucking house on an atomic level," Bakugo growled.

"Which is why I'm staying here. I have my own apartment and..."

"You're staying with me and Kiri."

"There's no need. We already put the guy away, and he isn't going to come for me."

"You can agree to move in on your own. Or I can call Eijiro, " Bakugo crossed his arms over his chest, his arrogant smirk in place.

"Sonofafuckingbitch. You have no right, Katsuki. None," you faltered, fighting the emotions bubbling within you.

"Ei, it is."

"Fine, I'll move in until I get a new place."

Bakugo put his phone back in his pocket, opening your door. The victory expression he wore made you want to kill him.

"See ya later, Burst."

As soon as the door shut, you let out a half howl-scream. The only being on the planet that could get under your skin was Bakugo. Now you were gonna be living with him and Kiri. You brightened up at the thought of the golden retriever energy that was in human form, Eijirou Kirishima. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

#mha bakugou #mha #angsty #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima x reader

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nevesmose · 10 months ago

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I think the Replikas are in control of the gestalts in Signalis. Hear me out.

Sierpinski is a space gulag with replika guards. Fair enough. But then we get to the apartment building on Rotfront where, first of all, the blockwart is a Kolibri. A heavily armed Kolibri on the lookout for spies, who we can see from her computer has access to everyone's medical records and the right to enter someone's property whenever she feels like it:

So in that block at least, everyone lives under constant physical and bioresonant surveillance from the gremlin downstairs. Let's look at the report Ariane's teacher wrote about her:

So communal living with a Kolibri warden is the expected norm for everyone since the Revolution, and Ariane is considered suspect for not growing up this way.

Speaking of Ariane's teacher, there's a comment in the school memory about her:

Eule wipes it clean before she can note it down so I have to copy from Erika

Further supporting this is one of Ariane's notes:

So we can see that Eules are the ones who educate gestalts. Let's imagine that you, a gestalt kid, wake up in your apartment block and head out past the psychic replika who has awareness of everyone and everything in the building. Currently she's slowly pushing her steppy over to reach up to a bookshelf, but still.

Out the door with your gas mask on, remember not to look too hard at the great red eye and off via the metro to school where you can do a little light bullying of the kid with weird hair and then sit down to lessons from a pleasant, friendly Eule who regularly reports to her superiors about your political reliability.

That's not even taking into account the constant possibility of an Ara being inside your walls at any given moment, or the Storch/Star police brutality tag teams roaming around.

So on Rotfront at least, gestalts seem to live in a crushingly regimented culture of constant replika surveillance every bit as sterile and suffocating as the DDR the game draws inspiration from.

No wonder Ariane wanted to escape it any way she could.

By the way, I know Ariane is called the "gestalt officer" on the Penrose but she doesn't seem to have much actual seniority or control of anything beyond her radio communications work. Elster is the one who maintains the ship, and we know that she's dedicated enough to do that to the absolute limits of her endurance anyway no matter what state Ariane is in (😢) so it'd just be a case of ordering someone to fulfil the task they were literally created to do. Almost as if the officer title is a meaningless bauble designed to make the Penrose Progamme more appealing to gestalts.

#signalis #words words words #assuming that the locations and texts shown in Ariane's Wild Ride are accurate representations of things that really existed #ariane yeong #elster #lstr 512 #rotfront #kolibri #eule #kolibri steppy #“Police Brutality” would be a great name for a storch & star pro wrestling team to be fair #feels like that's already how they view the world anyway tbh #bah gawd it's Storch breaking into the Eule dorm with a steel chair #The Time Is Now (1000 Eyes and Cicada Sirens Remix)#ongoing feud with Steppy Up who are just 5 identical kolibris

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darkmaga-returns · 10 days ago

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Following up on yesterday’s post about the CIA spinoff agency, CISA, that has morphed into a sort of watchdog over WrongThink in America, dedicated to influencing/censoring the thoughts of Americans—under the cover of preventing foreign “meddling”. Here’s how the Anglo-Zionists manage the news in the UK. Imagine if they ever tried something like that here! Or, is that how it’s been handled all along?

Arnaud Bertrand @RnaudBertrand I had missed that but this is a massive story. Basically, almost everything the BBC published on Gaza had to go through editor Raffi Berg (notably known for writing a book praising Mossad that's on Netanyahu's bookshelf), whose "entire job" was "to water down everything that's too critical of Israel" according to a former BBC employee. Quote Drop Site @DropSiteNews Dec 19 NEW from @DropSiteNews: The BBC's Civil War Over Gaza A landmark investigation by @owenjonesjourno into BBC’s Gaza coverage. Interviews with 13 journalists and staffers reveal how senior figures skewed stories for Israel and dismissed internal objections Show more Last edited11:39 PM · Dec 28, 2024

The article (linked above) is lengthy, so … excerpt. The portions in italics are from the intro. The excerpt is simply to show that, from the outset, Berg could hardly have been other than agenda driven. The question arises: Who at the BBC thought it was appropriate to have Middle East news filtered through Raffi Berg? Or was that decision made outside the BBC?

BBC’s coverage of Israel’s unrelenting assault on Gaza by British journalist Owen Jones. His report is based on interviews with 13 journalists and other BBC staffers who offer remarkable insights into how senior figures within the BBC’s news operation skewed stories in favor of Israel’s narratives and repeatedly dismissed objections registered by scores of staffers who, throughout the past 14 months, demanded that the network uphold its commitment to impartiality and fairness. Jones’s investigation of the BBC has three main components: a deeply reported look into the internal complaints from BBC journalists, a quantitative assessment of how the BBC characterizes the year-long siege on Gaza, and a review of the histories of the people behind the coverage—and, in particular, one editor, Raffi Berg. Appropriately, when Jones began this reporting as an independent journalist and reached out to Berg for comment, Berg at first hired the famous defamation lawyer Mark Lewis, who is also former Director of UK Lawyers for Israel. Jones is a Guardian columnist and hosts his own searing independent news coverage on YouTube. Many thanks to those who donated directly to Owen to help pay for his legal fees. We are living in an era where many people expect the news to be delivered in 280 characters or less. But investigative journalism often necessitates a careful peeling back of layers, an examination of background and context, and incorporating the insights of many sources. This is a long read, and may take you a couple of sittings to get through, but it’s well worth our attention given the global influence of the BBC, which hails itself as “the world’s most trusted international news provider.” As Jones notes, the BBC website is the most-visited news site on the internet. In May alone, it had 1.1 billion visits.

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generational-atrophy · 1 year ago

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yandere fyodor dostoevsky x reader drabble

2.6k words ~ a/n sorry for being like hey im gonna post and not posting for 3 days lmao

tw - stalking, invasion of privacy, guns, mentions of death, general yandere tws

It had started small. A random pair of clothing going missing, a door you had closed being left open, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you look into your dark apartment hallway. A nuisance, to be sure, but absolutely nothing to panic over.

But as time passed, it became harder and harder to justify. A door left open became a room left a mess, a stolen piece of clothing became everything you didn't use on a daily basis; and worst of all, a looming hallway became an unexplainable shuffle from your living room in the middle of the night.

Your friend has said it was ghosts. Your mother had said it was your imagination. But after you tidied up your bedroom bookshelf only to find yourself staring into the lens of a camera, you said something else.

When you had run to the police crying months earlier, they had assured you it must've simply been your landlord. So you reported it, finally feeling the weight of that intruder's violations off your shoulders, and moved across town.

With a restraining order keeping you safe, you could finally take a shower without needing to check you were alone. That was until you stepped out of the boiling hot chamber. As you looked over, you nearly collapsed to your knees as your stomach dropped to the floor. In the steamed mirror, someone or something had somehow drawn in the condensation. A simple smiley face.

Absolutely nothing to panic over, right?

That was the tipping point. You could barely change into dry clothing before you ran out of your apartment. The next week you spent at your mother's home had been uneventful. Either the monster hunting you had lost your scent or it didn't dare to invade your family as well.

It didn't matter which. You were safe for now, that was all that mattered. You didn't have to fear the dark and what ghost or ghoul was waiting in it. After weeks of laying there all night, eyes wide and body shaking with fear, any break was taken with a smile.

After a week of good rest, you were more than happy to wake up again. You rolled over to check your phone, as you always did, but your eye was immediately caught by a text message from an unknown number.

In a split second, you were sent back to their tear-filled nights, your hand desperately shaking as you hesitated to open the message. Please, god, let this be nothing to panic about. Please.

You clicked. It felt like it took minutes for your phone to show the message.

“Do you really believe staying there is any safer than your apartment?“

Tears spilt over your cheeks as your fingers hovered shakily over your keyboard. You needed to tell whoever this is to leave you alone, that they were torturing you, that you wanted nothing more than for them to be sent to hell-

But before you could even type a single letter, the app closed. You shot up, whining in absolute desperation as you tried to reopen it. When it finally did, the message was gone. Gone in a second, like it was something you weren't supposed to see. Like something you didn't see.

The next police visit was more helpful. Seeing your absolute hysterics, their hand was forced. You returned reluctantly to your apartment, but only with the captain's promise of someone watching all the entrances to your home.

And for the next week, none of those entrances were breached. Your home was as quiet as it had been before all of this madness.

So the police had left with the assurance that no one had been stalking you. You wish that conclusion comforted you. But you knew that whatever had been haunting your life would return soon.

You had been right, of course. The next morning you awoke to a post-it note stuck to your otherwise empty fridge front.

”How little do you think of me? I would think that your friends would have had the budget for better disguises.“

Your face didn't even change as your eyes became wet with tears. The dull ache of fear rang in your chest but failed to force you to your knees anymore.

It was nothing to panic over.

Sure, you had discovered more cameras. Your things seemed to be purposely misplaced to frustrate you. There were more notes, rarely with anything written on them. At first, that part confused you.

But then you understood. Whoever this was didn't want to communicate with you. They wanted you to know that they could, though. They were purposefully withholding the relief of knowledge. They wanted you to want to know about them. About how to end this. And they wouldn't let you.

But after half a year of this endless torture, you weren't afraid anymore. You were angry. You would rip their Post-it notes up and scatter them across the floor. No, you couldn't let them have that power over you anymore.

That was what you thought to yourself as you bought a pistol. Small, easy to hide, not too expensive, but capable of packing a punch if you knew what you were doing. Or at least, if you were convinced of what you were doing. Which, you were.

The first night you hid your gun under your pillow, your monster under the bed failed to show up. The apartment was deathly silent once again.

Good, you thought. Better to be well rested when I aim next time.

The next night, they showed. Around midnight, you were awoken from your tired limbo by the sound of faint footsteps in the kitchen. The sound, which used to terrify you, now forced a smile to crawl itself onto your face.

You grabbed the gun, gingerly disabling the safety. You had loaded the pistol the moment you got it, so there was no noise to be made there. As their footsteps wandered into your living room, you followed. Your presence was no louder than a mouse's, your feet barely making contact with the carpet.

When you finally entered your living room, you saw them.

The night sky filtered through the window directly behind them, silhouetting them but leaving you completely exposed in the cool moonlight. They were large, that was the first thing you noticed. The second thing you noticed was the hair standing up on your arms once again.

You bristled, a dark, maniacal smile on your face before your predator.

You couldn't see their eyes. But you knew that they had seen you as well.

With not a single sound, you raised your pistol.

Their posture straightened. Perhaps in fear. Perhaps in surprise.

But that didn't matter now.

You braced for the earsplitting bang, your ears already ringing in preparation. You closed your eyes.

You pulled the trigger.

Click.

You opened your eyes, the ringing subsiding enough to hear the soft chuckling of the creature before you. It sounded like a mix of chattering, a symphony of strings discordantly orchestrated to create some disgusting imitation of human joy.

Click. Click. Click.

No, please, God, no. This can't be happening.

Click. Click. Click.

The chattering grew louder as your hands began to shake, tears rolling down your cheeks as you hit the side of your pistol. No, no, no, this can't be happening, you thought.

This nightmare was supposed to be over. This creature should be dead. Yet they still stood before you. Slowly, you looked up from your gun to look them in where their eyes should be. Then you recognized why they had adjusted themself. Not terror, not panic.

Anticipation.

And because of that, you couldn't do anything as they walked backwards, exiting through your window back into the freezing night.

The next few weeks weren't terrifying. No, it was too late to be scared. You learned to sleep through the knocking on the walls. You started expecting things to be misplaced, for your phone to be hijacked, for everything in your life to go horribly wrong.

It was no longer anything to panic about. It was mind-numbing. Nowhere was safe, and you were forever trapped in some predator's cage. And that monster couldn't even give you the simple mercy of seeing the bars.

You wished this endless horror movie would end. You didn't care how, or why, you just... wanted some conclusion.

On a dreary, rainy day, that wish would be fulfilled.

Throughout this entire ordeal, you had learned how to continue your normal routine like nothing was wrong. On that day, you had been doing just that. You had gotten off of a particularly exhausting day of work, and like always, decided to visit your favourite coffee shop near your apartment.

You ordered your favourite drink quickly, taking a seat next to the wide windows of the small cafe. The rain pattered against the window softly, complimenting the dull atmosphere of the day. But despite the desolate weather, tens of people walked by the store every minute.

You watched as they passed, tracking the more interesting ones with tired eyes. Occasionally, some would walk without umbrellas, holding their bags over their heads. At that, you couldn't help but chuckle. Even less often, one or two people would enter the cafe as well. You didn't pay much mind to those, as they always left within a few minutes.

You had always been easily entranced by crowd-watching, you thought as you sipped your coffee. It was easy for the entire world to fall away if you wanted it to.

You were startled out of your thoughts as the metal chair on the other side of your table squealed against the wood floor unpleasantly.

In a motion that took hours, you turned to look in front of you.

You didn't need to see their face. You didn't need to hear their voice. You didn't need to see their silhouette once again.

You knew.

The stranger took a moment to speak.

“I've always found first introductions to be difficult,” The man sighed. He spoke with a thick Russian accent, his voice like a perfectly tuned instrument.

Your eyes seemed to blur over as you took in the sight of him. His hair, dark as a raven's, framed his face with loose strands that stuck to his pale skin as if they were wet. His outfit was well tailored, with detailed embroidery; yet showed its age in its formerly pristine fabric hanging loosely off his light skin, light discolouring staining parts of his large trench coat.

He cocked his head to the side, “I am glad that I waited to talk to you face to face.” You struggled to respond, your voice caught in your throat as you looked upon the face of your torturer.

He gazed at you hungrily, his deep violet eyes blank as a corpse's while still being able to dissect you without any effort.

“Why?” You struggled to say, every part of your body telling you to run, to scream, to fight, to finally murder the man in front of you-

But you knew you couldn't. No, it would be a futile effort. Just as everything else had.

He sighed contentedly, taking a sip of his tea and looking out the window for a second.

”I believe timing is an important factor in any relationship.”

You stared at him dumbfounded, struggling to believe that this was really happening. No, this was a dream, another horrible dream about this horrible man.

Slowly, you joined him in looking out the window. Looking upon his young but shallowed face made you feel as if you were going to hurl. Looking out the window could blur out the stranger sitting in front of you, couldn't it?

”Who are you?“ You choked out, fighting back the tears that pricked at your eyes as you tried to ignore the reality before you.

You didn't dare to turn back, but you felt the burn of his eyes on you once again.

“My name is Fyodor.”

For some reason, that made your heart drop to the floor. No, you knew nobody by that name. This man was truly a stranger, a stranger that had been inside your home, viewing you more intimately than anyone had ever done so before. And you didn't even know his name.

“Why... why are you doing this?” You asked softly, looking down at your lap as the tears began to stain your cheeks.

“Don't worry, that shall be made clear very soon.”

“What?”

You jolted up, realizing the gravity of what he had just said. And as your eyes raised, you were greeted by the sight of two large men clad in black sitting at the table next to yours. You frantically looked back to the man in front of you. Fyodor was frail, you could tell from the way his button-up hung off his chest. These men... were anything but. They... they would have no problem handling you.

“It's quite a dreary day, isn't it?” He said, setting down his cup of tea gently, “Not quite as picturesque as I had planned, but God must have known better.”

You didn't dare to respond, crying weakly into your hands.

”My apologies, my dear,“ his tone was even, ”But I do believe our time is up.“

He stood up, clearly not bothered by your pathetic form before him. As he stood up, the men clad in black joined, standing next to your table.

”You- You can't! Someone will see- Someone will call the cops-” You cried out, looking up at him with red eyes.

He cut you off with a comforting sigh. Or at least, it should have been comforting. Yet all you could feel was absolute terror, your body wracked with chills greater than you'd ever felt.

”Oh, I don't think anyone here will be able to call the cops,“

You shuddered, ”W-What do you mean by that?“

”It is unlikely that anyone besides us will leave this cafe.“ He said calmly, his tone completely disassociated from the horrifying thought he had put in your head. He nodded back to the men behind him, and they both left the table.

“You're... you're going to have them kill these people?” You ask quietly, but you truly didn't want the answer.

In response, he chuckled, the sound worse than the first time you had heard it.

“No, no. Of course not. Why would we waste precious ammo? No, I'll be killing them,” He stated, his face contorted into a smile that made your skin crawl.

”Stand up for me, won't you?“ He continued.

You could hear the sound of your heart beating against your chest as you struggled to stand, your knees weak. He placed a hand on the small of your back, his touch feeling like spiders crawling up under your shirt.

He started to guide you towards the exit gently before you stopped walking. His head turned towards yours, stopping as well.

“One last thing... please,”

“Of course, my dear.”

“This... this has all been just a... a game to you, right?”

He smiled, “Yes, yes it has.”

“Did I play it well?” You asked, finally looking him in his blood-churning eyes.

”Oh, absolutely,“ He said with a quiet laugh, opening the door for you to leave. In front of the cafe, a black SUV was parked, with another black-clad man standing to escort you inside the car.

“You played it perfectly, my love. You definitely proved to me that I have made the correct choice.“

You didn't struggle as you entered the car. No, you didn't cry as you heard the screams of the people left inside the cafe.

No, it was absolutely nothing to panic over.

#bsd tag #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd x reader #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #yandere fyodor x reader

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