#so don’t worry it isn’t just a list of characters I like
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revelboo · 3 days ago
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Hello, sorry if I'm being annoying. But I’d love to see something with IDW Ratchet or Tarn if you could write anything with them—especially Ratchet. I just don’t see enough good stories about him. I really enjoy your writing style and can’t get enough of it. Sorry for any mistakes; English isn’t my first language.
Sure, I’ve been meaning to do an IDW Ratchet. Tarn’s on my list, too, but he and Ratchet will likely be the last new characters for a while. I’m currently over 30 ongoing storylines at this point 😅
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Feel Like Rain
IDW Ratchet x Reader
• Sometimes it’s all too much. Even with First Aid helping, there’s just not enough medics in the Ark to support so many Autobots. Wheeljack and Perceptor can help if push comes to shove, but even then once the fighting begins again it won’t be enough. He’s never enough. And when he can’t get his processor right, when it threatens to drown him, he goes driving in his alt mode. Feels the sun baking him, the sand and hot asphalt under his tires. No real destination in mind, just trying to calm the panic that’s always there, the worry about what might happen. Driving for hours sometimes in a widening spiral about the Ark. Never going too far in case he’s needed. As he turns, he almost misses the car down in a crevice, only part of the bumper still visible, emergency lights flashing. Not his problem, but he’s still slowing anyway. Because he’s still a medic and someone might be hurt.
• Transforming and sliding down next to the car, he lays a hand on the roof feeling the heat of the metal and knowing it’s been there a while. Leaning to look inside anyway, there’s a human slumped forward against the wheel, broken glass glittering in their hair. Unmoving. Too late, then. Spark constricting, he’s turning away, pushing off the car to make the metal groan, when their little fingers flex and you make a low, guttural noise of pain that freezes him.
• It takes time to carefully peel back the roof of the car, snap the seatbelt and pull the door off to remove you. Feeling how hot your skin is against his servos as he lifts your limp form. Your eyes never open but you mumble incoherently, broken fragments he can’t make sense of. That make him wonder just how long you’ve been here, trapped and waiting to die. Because there’s no leaving you now that he has you in his hands. Carefully transforming around you to carry back to the Ark.
• Wheeljack’s in Medbay when he returns, digging through his tools and looking up guiltily, vocal indicators flickering green before he notices the human. “Haven’t seen that one before. Looks rough,” Wheeljack murmurs, moving closer as Ratchet lays you on a berth, your tiny form looking even smaller in the bot sized space. He’s almost absurdly glad Wheeljack’s there. Even though he’s been trying to brush up on human medicine since there’s so many of them now in the Ark, he doesn’t know nearly enough. Doesn’t know how to help you, but Wheeljack has a human. He has to know something.
• Snatching a scanner to run over you, he frowns at the results. Wrist and arm broken, one leg fractured. Body temperature well outside of normal parameters, dehydrated. Blood pressure off from normal, too. And he doesn’t know enough to know which problem is a priority. Which will kill you if he doesn’t fix it first. “Get your human,” he says softly. Temperature? It’s a place to start, cooling you off. “Now, Wheeljack,” he adds without looking up when the other bot doesn’t immediately move. Using a servo to brush your hair from your face, he can see the glass glittering on your skin and in your hair. “You held on this long.”
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fagbearentertainment · 2 years ago
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ngl I'm sitting here just snf4rgtjlkjleffejfevjf cuz like i am hyped but also brain wants this rlly cool canonically trans gnarly little guy from my fave media ever but its an obscure game not many ppl know abt and its suuuuuper weird so like most ppl dont even like it but just ragagaagagaggagagagagaggagagagahahaggahahagaahagaahagagahagagahgahahagaah <- isnt normal sorrie
You using the word gnarly is making me think of a certain phone headed guy dripping with trans swag so if that is the character you’re think of dont worry, I’ve already decided he’s making it in bc I also love that game :D
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hxney-lemcn · 1 month ago
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Passionate Hearts — Overblots x gn! reader
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summery: what making out with the overblots is like.
tw: steamy-ish, this is as steamy as I'll ever get (not much at all lmao)
a/n: idk where this came from. Idek how good this is. I don't even like writing steamy stuff so this kinda reads more artistic somehow?? Idk
wc: 1.3k (~ 185 per character)
Master List
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❥ Riddle Rosehearts
How uncouth of him. He can’t seem to stop you as you continue to enchant him with your lovely kisses. Riddle is nothing but a lovesick fool when it comes to you, and it becomes apparent as your kiss becomes more fervent. He’s a blushing mess as you seem to be unable to pull away. His heart is a stuttering mess, and he never wants you to stop. No matter how passionate your kisses become, it's still gentle. The way he caresses your face is soft, his lips caressing yours so lovely that you feel weak in the knees. And when you pull away, finally getting your fill of his love, you both are a bit of a mess. Hair slightly disheveled, clothes a bit crooked, lips a bit puffy. You couldn’t complain though, it wasn’t every day that you saw the Heartslabyul housewarden so unkempt. Riddle also didn’t seem to mind so much, as long as you only do such actions behind closed doors. He doesn’t think he could handle the embarrassment if Ace or Deuce caught you both in such an intimate act.
❥ Leona Kingscholar
Unlike Riddle, Leona is ruthless when it comes to your more passionate moments. Fervent kisses turn wild with lips being bit and prodding tongues. It feels like you’re being devoured every time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never seen him so passionate about something until he refused to let your lips part. He loved the way you felt, your soft lips puffy with abuse, hair tangled between his fingers. Leona was addicted to your taste and he isn’t shy about it. Sure, he is a bit lazy, beckoning you to come closer to him, but he’ll leave you breathless and wanting more by the end. It isn’t fair how unaffected he seems after he’s done, pulling you closer for a nap (he needed to re-energize after all that labor). His silky hair was barely rustled, his clothes as messy as they normally were. The only evidence of your actions was his slightly puffy lips. Don’t worry though, people know he’s yours with the way he’ll kiss you anywhere anytime. Leona isn’t afraid to put some runts in their place.
❥ Azul Ashengrotto
Azul has a love-hate relationship with the idea of kissing you. On one hand, he can’t live without your lips slotted on his, on the other…he hates how vulnerable he feels. Though that feeling dissipates quickly when he’s suddenly surrounded with you. Your touch, your smell, you love. He’s a greedy man and he’ll take any attention from you he can get. His kisses turn desperate quickly, like he’d die if you were to pull away. Azul is a bit more of a messy kisser than he’d like to admit. His desperation for your love overpowers any of his other thoughts and he finds himself scrambling for purchase, holding onto you for dear life. Azul looks at you with so much love when you pull away you feel like your heart is about to explode. As much as he’d like to continue, he forlornly concludes that you both can’t stay like this forever. Perhaps another time, you’re always welcome in his VIP room at the lounge after all…just make sure Jade and Floyd don’t notice your disheveled appearance as you exit. 
❥ Jamil Viper
It wasn’t often that Jamil indulged in such acts. Let himself be so vulnerable. But as you continued to leave sweet short kisses, he found his resolve crumbling. It scared him that you were able to make him give in so easily, but he trusted you, something that not many people had. His kisses feel a bit controlling, his hand pressed against the back of your neck keeping you in place. Jamil’s kisses are slow and deliberate. Every action has its purpose, and he loves to take his time and savor you. You find yourself hypnotized without his signature spell. Despite the deeply intimate act, he’s still tender with you. Jamil isn’t touchy with you often, so he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you. He hates to admit how he doesn’t want to stop, but his break is almost over. You’re more messy looking than he is at the end, and Jamil can’t help but look smug. People won’t catch you in the act, but it raises some eyebrows when you come out of Jamil’s room a little more messy than when you entered. 
❥ Vil Schoenheit
You lucky bastard. Another one that doesn’t indulge in such actions often. Vil doesn’t like to admit how much you get to him. The fact that he restrains from any physical affection with you mixed with how much he wants to drown you in love…yeah lets say he finds himself releasing his pent up emotions on your poor lips. He only allows such acts when you're both unwinding for the day, and you are not allowed to leave any evidence (he has an image to uphold). Vil kisses you with so much passion you’re left breathless with the first one, and he won’t hold up either. You seriously question his remark of you being his first partner because the way he kisses you makes him feel like an expert. He looks like a God (always) by the end. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, golden hair barely out of place (but enough to make your heart flutter, you did that). Once you both slow down, he’ll pepper your face with kisses wishing you a good night's rest as he plays with your hair…you're not sure if you could sleep after that. 
❥ Idia Shroud
You will always be the one to initiate such intimate acts. As much as he wants to, he’s too shy. An innocent kiss going a little farther as Idia couldn’t resist the temptation that was you. And as your lips locked, Idia found his nervous energy leaving him as his mind melted into a goop. His kisses are inexperienced, teeth clashing with yours (he didn’t mean too), but he’ll learn over time. He can be a fast learner, and who wouldn’t want to get some practice in? (Idia is more willing than you’d think). He gets a bit uncharacteristically confident the longer you two kiss. Pressing your lips together more firmly, shaking hands holding onto your figure, small whimpers swallowed by your awaiting mouth. Both of you are flustered beyond imagination by the end, warm cheeks and fast beating hearts, shaky breaths. Just like that, Idia finds himself short circuiting. You were just so amazing, lovely, warm…you were gonna kill him one day. Don’t even think of doing anything like that in public though, he might actually die (and cry and never go outside again). 
❥ Malleus Draconia
Every time you shared a kiss it would be one of passion. Malleus loves you so much he felt the need to express it, make sure you clearly understood how much you meant to him. But you would have to be the one to push further, as Malleus usually left it at one kiss, he wanted you to set the pace. He won’t back down if you continue to kiss him, his actions will become more possessive. Hands that cradled your cheeks move to the back of your head, his kisses becoming more hungry. He basks in your warmth, in your love, in your being. He loses himself in you, and he internally thanks you for allowing himself to indulge in your love. Malleus isn’t foolish enough to think it's appropriate for such actions to be indulged in with others present…but he also finds himself uncaring. He loves you, and if you wish it, who was he to deny? (Sebek will be so stunned that he can’t get any words out). Not to mention how exhilarating to see the fae prince’s composure shattered. Pink cheeks, dilated eyes, puffy lips…oh what a sight indeed.
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hallowxiu · 10 months ago
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How the Brothers Would Deal with MC's Mortality
Mammon:
You casually brought it up as a joke
Probably something like “i’m here for a good time, not a long time” or “why should i care what happens in 100 years? It’s not like i’ll be around to care”
Would probably confuse Mammon at first as to why you wouldn’t be around, but he would put the pieces together in the middle of the night when trying to sleep.
A whole, eyes snapping wide opening and flinging out of his bed kind of moment.
Mammon would worry himself sick
Yes, he knows humans can die, hell, he used to mock you for being so frail when you first came to the Devildom, but now? 
Well, now things are different. How he feels about you is different
He's spending all his money on ways to keep you kicking longer. 
Anything he can think of that’ll help, he’s buying it. Vegetables, fruits, protein powder, comfortable clothes, a nice pillow, vitamins, shampoos- anything. He has no idea where to start, so he just starts grabbing everything. 
I mean, something will have to help, right? 
If you notice he looks panicked, don’t point it out, it’ll only make it worse. Unless you want to be smothered to death from his affection and worry, then by all means. ;)
Leviathan:
Look, he can barely handle his favorite anime characters dying, so you? Yeah, no, that’s way too much. 
Nothing actually popped up to remind Leviathan of your mortality, it was because of Satan throwing his books all around the house that did it. 
Suddenly, it was all he could think about. How did he not think of this before? 
Leviathan is no Satan though, and he’s certainly not Lucifer. Researching medical documents and trying to think of things to keep you alive longer are a little over his head. That being said, there were some things he could do.
Leviathan dove into his own research that would be within his realm of understanding, studying that humans who have more positive mindsets and who are less exposed to depressing forms of media, may live longer than the average person. This- this was something he could work with. 
Suddenly, you were constantly being invited to his room, Leviathan having a variety of slice-of-life anime for you to watch with him, all of which had happy endings to boot. If an anime was even remotely depressing, he made sure to keep that out of reach. 
Video games? He’s keeping it safe; he’s not risking anything here. If it’s not similar to Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, or The Sims (which must be on a good day), you’re just not playing it. Kingdom Hearts if you’re lucky. 
Satan:
Would do an insane amount of research 
Likely overheard the topic on a news segment about the tragically short lifespans of humans before it all clicked together.
Satan, unlike the other brothers, has never experienced death before, so while it sounds silly, he never had reason to think of you dying.
Looks up humans who had long lifespans to see how he can implement those things into your lifestyle.
Books will be littered everywhere (although that’s not really unusual, but what is would be the topic of said books- The Long Lives of Humans, Human Lifestyle for Dummies 101, The Road to Human Immortality, etc. etc.)
This is when Satan learns just how easy it is for a human to kick the bucket.
Heart attacks, brain aneurysms, strokes, seizures, cancer, the list goes on and on and it’s starting to scare him. He didn’t know humans could just drop dead. 
He’s going to start researching curses to increase your lifespan, or at the very least he’s going to make sure you’re careful as hell. 
You won’t even get as much as a cut without him being aware of it; he’s going to hover around and mother hen the absolute shit out of you. 
Try not to get too annoyed with him though, it all stems from good intentions. 
Asmodeus:
He’ll be damned if his shopping partner for life is going to die on him.
Asmo isn’t stupid; if anything he’s pretty emotionally aware. He's known for a long time just how short the lifespan of humans is.
But still, it came in the form of a nightmare. One where he couldn’t save you, despite giving his best efforts. The way you died was tragic, long before your life should have ended. 
This sent Asmo somewhat into a frenzied state trying to find things to keep you alive once he woke up. 
Vitamins, vitamins, vitamins
Humans benefit from vitamins, right? Surely you’d benefit from Devildom vitamins then. If it’ll increase the lifespan of a demon, he sees no reason why it wouldn’t increase your lifespan. 
Of course, it really only gives you nicer nails and shinier hair. 
He’s 10x more intense with your morning and night routines. 
He will be unloading all his facial creams on you, and telling you the benefits of each one and how it might add a few years to your lifespan. 
You want to stay up late at night to finish homework? Maybe watch a movie? Yeah, no, not on Asmo’s watch. 
Your ass is going to bed every night at 10pm, right along with him. You do realize you’ll be getting exactly 8 hours of sleep each night, too, right? 
Beelzebub:
Regarding his trauma with Lilith, it came as no surprise when he started to fret over your well-being. 
Poor Beel saw an article that discussed how tragically easy it is for a human to die. The cherry on top? How they could die from simply overeating. 
Overeating isn’t a concept Beel is overly familiar with (because to him, it’s never overeating), and while he knew most people couldn’t keep up with his eating habits, he didn’t think it could actually cause harm to a human, let alone kill them. 
Grocery trips are now a more anxiety-inducing event. 
He’s suddenly paranoid that any of the Devildom food could and will kill you. Are you allergic to anything? How would you even know? 
What if one day he serves you his favorite boiled dragonhead and you just drop dead at the dinner table?? No, that will never do. 
There’s a list of Devildom foods that he knows for sure you can have without dying, but then comes the issue of portion control. How much is too much for a human? 
Beelzebub swore he would never lose another loved one again, and it’s a promise he intends to keep. From now on, you will only eat what he deems safe. 
You want to try a new food in the Devildom that you’ve never had before? You better get some seriously good convincing skills if you want him to cave in. For someone who only ever thinks with his stomach, he’s surprisingly stubborn. 
Belphegor:
He’s still plagued with nightmares about Lilith, especially since he still thinks it’s his fault. Tack that on to the way he blamed you and the rest of the human race for it? The man is walking trauma. 
 Like Asmodeus, this was brought on by nightmares about you dying. Different from Asmo’s, however, you usually died by his hand. Naturally, considering your tumultuous history. 
Belphegor, unlike his brothers, takes a different approach. He just doesn’t approach you at all. 
What better way to keep your lifespan long than by staying away from you altogether? 
Is it something that he wants? Of course not! But how can he trust himself to never hurt you again? To never kill you again. 
He can’t. 
So, he locks himself away in his room, sleeping most of the day or just avoiding the areas you normally like to lounge. 
On a normal day, almost everyone in the household, including yourself, would notice this behavior change. However, since you’re now being cornered by all the brothers and their concerns about your lifespan, it’s easy for Belphegor’s absence to slip your mind. 
This hurts Belphegor, but at the end of the day, he believes this is for the best.
Lucifer: 
Lucifer didn’t need a reminder of your short lifespan; if anything, it’s something he’s thought plenty about. 
Lucifer has trauma, we all know that much. After Lilith, he’s absolutely terrified of losing another loved one to something outside of his control.
And your lifespan is not something that’s out of his control. At least not how he sees it, anyway. 
If you thought he was overbearing or overprotective before, brace yourself. He’s going to step it up several notches. 
No excess of junk food, no more pulling all-nighters, no more sitting around the house gaming all day, and definitely no more overexerting your use of magic. He’s no fool, he knows the toll your magic could eventually take on your body. 
Honestly? He wasn’t this bad until his brothers started to panic about your mortality, and though Lucifer told himself he was above such nonsense, he quickly found himself taking all the precautions they were taking (and then some). 
Fortunately, if you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you (granted you take some of their concerns into account).
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juniperskye · 12 days ago
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I Can’t Do This.
Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.
Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 5605
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.
“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.
“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.
“Okay.”
With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.
--
“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.
“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.
You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.
“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.
Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”
--
“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.
“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”
“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.
“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”
“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.
“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”
“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”
“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”
“Fine.”
--
You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.
Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.
After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.
--
Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.
“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.
“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.
“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”
Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.
--
“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.
“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.
“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.
--
“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.
With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.
“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.
You sat in one of the chairs across from him.
“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.
“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”
“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.
“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”
“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”
--
“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.
You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.
“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.
The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.
“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.
“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.
“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.
You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.
“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”
“No sir.” You reassured.
“Good.”
--
Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.
Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.
Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.
“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.
“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”
“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.
“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.
Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.
“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”
You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.
In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…
“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.
“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.
“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.
“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.
“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.
--
“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”
“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.
“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”
“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.
“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”
“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.
“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”
“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.
You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?
“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.
You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.
“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”
“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”
Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.
It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.
--
A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.
“Hotch, is everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”
“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”
Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable around him and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.
“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”
“Yes.”  You sighed.
In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.
“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.
“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.
“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.
“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”
“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.
“Well…
--
“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.
“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.
“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.
“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.
“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.
It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.
“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.
“Not now!” Emilio growled.
“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.
Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.
Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.
“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.
“Yes sir.”
--
“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.
“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.
“I’m glad I did too.”
--
The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.
“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”
You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?
“I could do that.”
“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.
“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.
“It’s okay. I can do it.”
“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.
“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”
--
You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.
After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.
“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.
“Oh, sure.” You agreed.
The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.
“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.
“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”
“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.
You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.
“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.
Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.
“I got it.” Hotch
Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.
You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.
--
“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.
You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.
“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.
“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”
“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”
“I will.”
--
“…and I just stood there.”
“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.
“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.
“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.
“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”
“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.
“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”
“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”
--
The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.
Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.
The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.
“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.
“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”
Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.
“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”
“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.
“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.
“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.
“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”
“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.
Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.
“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.
“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”
With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.
“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.
“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.
As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.
As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.
“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.
“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.
--
“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.
“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”
Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.
“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.
You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.
“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.
“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.
Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.
That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.
--
“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”
“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.
--
You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.
“Hotch.”  You gasped.
“Y/n can we talk?”
You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.
“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”
“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.
“You were trying to protect me?”
“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”
“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”
“You have feelings for me?”
“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”
“Please say that again.” He whispered.
“Aaron.”
He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.
“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”
Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.
“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
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validfemale · 19 days ago
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᯽ — how to: ask for what you want & (get it) *·˚ ༘⭐️
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alright, babe, here’s the tea: knowing what you want isn’t enough. to get it, you’ve gotta ask like you mean it. here’s the baddie blueprint to make people understand you’re not just asking—you’re expecting.
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♡ — KNOW YOUR WORTH,
first things first, you need to know exactly what you bring to the table. walk in like you know you’re that girl. this isn’t about arrogance; it’s about confidence.
when you know your worth, asking for what you want feels natural, not forced. stand tall, keep your energy unapologetic, and let your confidence do the talking before you even open your mouth.
❥ tip remind yourself daily: “i am worthy of everything i want.”
♡ — BE CLEAR,
you can’t expect anyone to give you what you want if you don’t even know what that is. be specific. whether it’s in a relationship, at work, or even with friends, clarity is queen.
no one can give you what you want if you’re wishy-washy. crystal clarity attracts, babe.
❥ tip: write out your desires like a shopping list. the universe (and everyone else) loves clarity.
♡ — USE THE LOA TO MANIFEST IT,
channel your inner loa baddie and assume it’s already yours. talk, think, and act as if what you want is already coming your way. this shifts your energy from “maybe” to “inevitable.”
loa 101: talk, think, and vibe like it’s already happening. people respond to that main character energy.
❥ tip: when you’re asking, phrase it with confidence, like it’s already happening. for example: “i’m excited for us to work on this project together,” instead of “would you consider…?”
♡ — BE DIRECT BUT FEMININE,
power doesn’t mean you have to be aggressive. ask with grace and gumption. be assertive without the hard edges. when you ask for something, use direct language but keep your tone warm. people respond better when they feel appreciated and respected, so channel that feminine charm with just the right amount of sass.
❥ tip: try phrases like, “here’s what would make me feel valued…” or “i would really appreciate it if…”—assertive yet graceful.
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♡ — NO EXCUSES, NO APOLOGIES
one major mistake when asking for what you want is feeling the need to explain why you deserve it. babes, you don’t owe anyone a novel about why you’re worth it. asking is enough. no need for essays or apologies. over-explaining screams insecurity; keep it cool and concise.
❥ tip: practice saying “this is what i need” without adding “if that’s okay” or “only if it’s not too much trouble.” no apologies, just confidence.
♡ — BODY LANGUAGE IS EVERYTHING,
it’s not just about what you say; it’s about how you say it. your body language speaks volumes. hold eye contact, stand tall, own your space. say it like you mean it. let your posture say, “i’m here, and i’m serious.” people are more likely to meet your requests when they see that you’re grounded and composed.
❥ tip: practice standing in front of a mirror before important conversations. make sure your body language aligns with your words.
♡ — EXPECT THE BEST ALWAYS,
when you’ve asked for what you want, assume the best outcome. don’t overthink, don’t worry about what they’re going to say, and don’t let any doubt creep in. expect that your request will be met, and move forward as if it’s already a done deal. confidence is magnetic, and people are naturally drawn to fulfilling the expectations of someone who believes they’re worth it.
❥ tip: try the mantra, “everything i desire is already on its way to me.”
♡ — WALK AWAY IF IT’S NOT SERVING YOU,
finally, remember that you don’t need to settle. if they’re not giving you what you deserve, then you’re onto the next. if they don’t get it, they’re not for you. don’t cling to crumbs; queens deserve the whole feast.
❥ tip: remind yourself that rejection isn’t personal; it’s just redirection. there’s always something better when you don’t settle.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Just Friends: How It Began
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
masterlist
Summary: You make a new friend.
It's giving
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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There’s more people than you expect. The book club is more of a book crowd. Not exactly what was advertised online. Instead of a circle of only about ten people, there are tables set around the room to seat as man. Each. 
“Find your name tag,” the woman at the table near the entrance explains, “and your table. Everyone has a number.” 
You thank her and find your name tag, sticking it onto your cardigan, right below your collar. You clutch your copy of The Good Earth. It’s well worn. A used copy you found on a thrift shop shelf. You search the room, lost as you take in the other listless faces. 
You check the list of names and find your table number. This isn’t what you were hoping for. You want to make friends. Everyone here is older than you. Noticeably so. And there’s so many. It’s going to be so loud, you won’t be able to focus. You doubt you’ll make any sort of real connection. 
You think of leaving but you’ve come this far. Besides, there’s a spot waiting for you. You find your seat at Table 12 and swing your feet nervously. You tap your fingers on the cover of your book and smile as a pair of white-haired ladies sit down across from you. They don’t acknowledge you as they chatter. You sit back, disappointed. 
Other tables are a little livelier. Several attendees sit at the next table and garble loudly on. It seems like they’re already talking about Pearl S. Buck’s narrative from what you can make out. An older man sits down and you try to think of how to greet him. Oh, no, he seems to know those ladies. All three of them block you out as they ignore your tiny wave. 
“Twelve,” the deep voice gristles over you. The chair next to you scrapes out. An even more worn novel lands on the table next to yours. The man sits. “This everyone?” 
He looks around and you do too. 
“There’s a few more seats,” you say as trace your finger over the spine of the book. You turn to him and pause. He’s familiar. Do you know him? “Um, hi...” You introduce yourself, trying not to cringe.  
He’s younger than the others but still older than you. The silver strands threaded into his dark hair and patched along the edge of his jaw suggest at least a full decade, likely more. You offer your hand stiffly, not sure why you do. You’re not one for shaking hands. He accepts the gesture and your lashes flick in surprise. His fingers are... metal? 
“Bucky Barnes?” You blurt out as he squeezes your hand firmly. 
He drops his chin as if he was hoping to stay covert, “uh, yeah. You beat me to it.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you retract your hand and slap your cheek, “I didn’t mean to. I only... I thought you looked... familiar and then I worried I forgot you from somewhere. But you’re too old to have been in my classes. But I mean... not too old. We had lots of mature students. Mature... just students. Age isn’t... well...” 
He chuckles, “don’t worry about it. More than a century in, I can handle being called old.” 
“I wasn’t-- I didn’t mean... that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 
“Really, it’s fine. It’s... cute,” he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. Another duo sits down and make no effort to engage beyond their pairing. He sighs and looks around. “Not very social for a social club.” 
“Mm, no, but maybe once we get started...” you shrug. 
“Maybe,” he sits back and drops his hands onto his lap. “You... don’t have somewhere less... geriatric to be?” 
“Oh, um, well, you know, I have some friends but they only want to go drinking and I get all bubbly in my stummy—stomach, when I drink. So, yeah. I thought maybe I could meet a few tamer friends here.” 
“Huh, well, I assure you, the old ones really aren’t that much different,” he scoffs. “And I get it. Alcohol doesn’t do much for me. Don't like the taste either. It’s all people ever wanna do. Always ‘let’s go for drinks’.” 
You nod. 
“Besides,” he continues, “don’t feel like hanging out with a bunch of dudes who can only talk about fighting the next bad guy. I need a friend who isn’t enhanced or magical.” 
“Right, that sounds...” 
“I know. I'm a grumpy old man complaining about saving the world,” he snorts. “Sorry, I just—I'm like you. Wanna expand outside my circle.” 
“Yeah, makes sense,” you agree. “Looks like you’ve read that a few times.” 
You point to his copy and he peers down. His blue eyes find you again, “first edition. Read it before I shipped off. My sister Rebecca still had it when she passed... she left it behind. It was just sitting in a storage unit.” 
“Oh wow, I... yeah, er--” 
“See, the whole friends thing... tough when there’s only one other guy in the city the same age as you,” he says. 
“It’s nice of her to hold onto it for you,” you finally get your thoughts in line. 
“Yeah, she was nice,” he agrees. “My best friend, but don’t tell Steve I said so.” 
A man sits on your other side and jars you from the plucking of heart strings. He’s balding and thin. “Hi,” you turn to him and give your name, “nice to meet you.” 
He glances at you, “Didn’t know this was open to kids.” 
“Kids?” You echo. You’re well into adulthood. Almost twenty-five. 
“Lay off, she’s being friendly,” Bucky leans over. “It’s a club. We’re supposed to talk about the book.” 
“Yeah, I'm sure she has great insight into the battle between wealth and tradition.” 
Your eyes round. You crane to see around you. You really are the youngest person in the room. You should have known. 
“I’d love to learn,” you say and the man harrumphs. 
Bucky growls, “you sure act like a jackass for putting on airs. She’s being polite.” 
The man sneers, “some idea for a date, boy.” 
“I’m not--” Bucky puts his metal hand on the table, between your books, balling it to a fist as the man gapes. 
“I--” the man begins. 
“Save it,” Bucky says. “Think you may have missed a few themes... you know, about women and oppression.” He drags his hand from the table. “Hey,” he nudges you softly. You almost can’t believe he can be so gentle with the metal limb, “how about we get outta here? They’re showing It Happened One Night just a few blocks down at the old cinema.” 
“Yes! I know. It’s one of my favourites. I was going to go but everyone said it was boring and I didn’t wanna go alone.” You chirp, shying away from your own rambling. 
“Same. So, how about it. Wanna make me look normal?” 
You laugh, “sure. I love popcorn.” 
“Alright, I might save you a few milk duds,” he stands and you do the same. 
You think you’ve made a friend after all. 
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grandline-fics · 7 months ago
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Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION:  You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N:  Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them. 
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
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Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered. 
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more  but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. 
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.” 
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
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It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon. 
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.” 
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.” 
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?” 
LUFFY
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It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders. 
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more. 
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown. 
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?” 
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time. 
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genshin-scenarios · 7 months ago
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what flowers they’d give their s/o
Summary: A raffle request from my Adopt a Wanderer preorders! They’re a mix of genshin and HSR, but I’m posting it here as Wanderer’s included! If you'd like to see more HSR content from me, feel free to drop a request at @tiramisu-rambles! 
Characters: Wanderer, Luocha, Jingyuan, Aventurine, Sunday
Content warnings: implications of character death in Luocha’s part.
Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store
Red String of Fate Prompt List
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Wanderer: Anemones
Sincerity, forsaken love, anticipation, protection from evil.
Just like the many versions of himself, anemones are windflowers with various meanings depending on their color. And despite the hurt Wanderer’s been through, his barriers are worn down by your honest intentions; your brightness, moments of quiet connection, and how you’re adored by many.
He’s glad the wind has brought him to you. These flowers may have a delicate appearance, but it’s obvious that neither of you are so fickle.
“They’re a protection from evil, apparently. Something about closing its petals when it rains.” 
“Really? In that case, I have a version of that already with you!”
It’s a bouquet made with multicolored hues, where he hands himself to you. A small thanks for acknowledging his past, and a few blooms that represent anticipation for the future.
It’s been a while since he’s been vulnerable enough to feel nervous about something. But it’s a more positive spin on the emotion, akin to excitement when he knows he’s going to see you — but Wanderer would rather choke than use a word so innocently childish to describe himself.
Due to its wild nature, anemones also symbolize relaxation and a reminder to enjoy the moment. To take in opportunities at the right time, as he’s learned from you.
Luocha: Marigolds
Resurrection, energy, good luck, warmth, prosperity, jealousy.
Luocha sees you in the warmth of the flowers, as powerful as the Sun despite your bubbly outlook. He sees the light, which makes him worry he might taint your smile with his true nature.
You thank him for the flowers, thinking of him as the miracle doctor that’s giving you a gift. He is, but he also hopes you don’t get closer without being aware of what he is.
Marigolds represent despaired love, although this is mostly on Luocha’s part as he constantly sidelines himself, making himself a ‘side character’ rather than a potential partner for you. But he’s too selfish to completely step out of your life, accepting your invitations to lunch and walks along the harbor. He says the world feels peaceful around you. It’s true.
These flowers are often associated with life and death. In this case, it’s Luocha’s silent promise to always protect you, even if you might not want it yourself. 
And if there comes a day where he has to pick between saving one or another… He’ll make sure you get out alive. Perhaps he’ll even save the bystanders around so you’ll keep calling him a wonderful doctor, before his powers fail to heal his own wounds.
Jingyuan: Forget Me Nots
Clinging to the past, faithfulness, remembrance, true love, fidelity.
‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts,’ they say. A warm sentiment from the General, and behind them the memories of all he’s gained and lost in the past.
Jingyuan is used to being alone. He’s a leader after all, who wears the air of one without a care in the world. He’s capable and busy, but what he says as a teasing remark contains words that can be read very differently.
‘Don’t forget me.’
Forget me nots also symbolize links to the past. For a long-life species, it’s easy to feel the days melt together, and beautiful sights aren’t as vivid anymore.
That’s why Jingyuan thanks you for letting him remember — remember what it’s like to be surprised again, to see the sky and find it breathtaking, along with your voice in the wind. He wants to remember all of this as long as he can, so he gives you these flowers on occasion to remind himself.
“Do you miss me that much, General?” 
“Of course. There isn’t enough time in the world to spend with you.”
He starts to appreciate his lifespan again, for having the chance to run into you along the way.
Aventurine: Daffodils 
Honesty, truth, forgiveness, appreciation. 
Despite the amount of lying and masks he wears, Aventurine knows there is truth in the anxiety he feels around you. The same feeling before a risky gamble, where he hopes his bluffs will deceive his opponent.
…He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever looked at him with disappointment. If he somehow managed to fool you into expecting something he cannot give; heart ringing hollow, echoing deeper and deeper in resonance every time you interact.
Perhaps one day this hollow ringing will actually turn into a heartbeat, and he can finally face you as Kakavasha. (Put aside the fact that despite his persona, Aventurine is still facing the world with honesty in every act).
He also chooses Daffodils because, in his attempt at excusing these sentiments, he simply thinks of you as his source of honesty and truth. A Sun that the flowers lean toward, after blooming each spring despite the desolate, cutthroat winter.
‘Please forgive me. Please don’t look away.’
Daffodils also symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and good luck. Perhaps you can draw this out of Aventurine, who’s been on guard against the world for as long as he can remember?
Be the sunlight that sifts through the window, greeting him every day; a good-luck charm he continues to believe in.
Sunday: Violets 
Peace, devotion, healing. 
You bring him peace. With every smile you direct at Sunday, he feels hope that the world around him can be rebuilt. ‘You heal me,’ the flowers say. And despite how candied flowers dry bitterly on the tongue…
‘After all this is over, I’ll devote myself to you.’
He can’t be sure if you believe him, but Sunday has long disposed of the idea of predicting you. ‘It makes you human’, his sister once said.
Violets are reminders of loyalty, thoughtfulness, and dependability. Sunday looks out for you at every corner, even if his presence isn’t tangible. He notices your little victories and joys, feeling his heart twinge from the distance. And when your days are bleak, just know there is another soul mourning with you, playing a song to soothe your sorrows.
He’s devoted to you long before the drama of politics are done. In a sense, one can almost say he’s too caring — from a glance it appears he’s not bothered with you, and watch for a minute longer, the small, irrelevant commands given to his subordinates ring clear with thoughts of you.
Sunday doesn’t put a spotlight on his love, yet showers it with the adoration of the moon. Quiet, graceful, and just a bit selfish.
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seoulmatez · 7 months ago
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— 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ౨ৎ
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okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 3k wc. ノ smut ノ nsfw (mdni) ノ characters aged 21+ ノ oral (f!receiving) ノ face sitting :3 ノ clothed sex ノ subby yuta ノ reader is a little mean at moments ノ jealousy
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you can’t say that you normally time how long it takes yuta to answer his door but you can say that it never takes this long. you add the oddity to your growing mental list titled: “ways yuta has changed since having sex for the first time.” it’s not one you ever saw yourself making but life has a way of throwing curveballs at people and this seems to be the one pitched to you. 
maybe yuta feels a bit different these days, but he’s still yuta. you’re sure you’ll get used to this new version of him soon enough.
a few more long seconds pass before you hear footsteps on the other side of the door and the barrier swings open, revealing yuta in all his glory.
“so you are home,” you comment with a smile upon finally being met with the sight of him. you don’t see him as often these days and the fact makes you sadder than you’d like to admit. so, you soak him in silently—the perpetual dark crescents beneath his eyes, the dark hair that hangs over the left side of his forehead, the way his hand almost unconsciously always finds its way to rest on his neck.
“sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with that familiar, sheepish grin of his. at least some things never change. “come in.”
the way he ushers you in and leads you back to his bedroom leads you to believe that you unintentionally interrupted him. he’s thumbing through the shirts in his closet when you come to stand by his bed and ask, “did i catch you in the middle of something?”
“oh, i’m heading out later so i was just getting ready.” you stop yourself from getting comfortable on his mattress at his response, although, when he turns around with a button up in hand, he uses his other to wave the misunderstanding away. “you can hang out though.”
“where are you going?” you ask him, plopping down on his bed. the scent lingering on his pillowcase and sheets is fresh like he just washed the bedding. however, you can still pick out a hint of the fragrance he wears regularly—warm and just a little woody.
“out for drinks,” he tells you. he’s in the process of trading out the t-shirt he’s been lounging in for the one he just picked out when your silence finally registers. a look over his shoulder at you is enough to tell him that the answer doesn’t satisfy you. the expression you’re wearing is telling—like you know there’s more that he chose not to say. it doesn’t seem like you’re backing down, either. with your silent prompting, he adds, “with a girl.”
“another date?” you have to stop yourself from frowning. “didn’t you go out with some other chick over the weekend?”
this is exactly why you haven’t seen him lately—he’s so busy meeting women and taking them home to fuck that he barely has time to spare for you. you’ve always thought that if he’s happy, you will be, too, but you have to admit that that isn’t the case. it’s worrying—how quickly he went from such a timid guy with no sexual experience to one who’s getting laid every three days.
you aren’t sure if this is coming from a place of concern for the girls crossing paths with him or if the whole fuckboy persona is beginning to become offputting to you, but you find yourself asking, “and they all know this is casual? that you’re seeing other girls two days after you hook up with them?”
“it sounds bad when you put it like that…” he starts, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. he’s only gotten around to fastening the bottom half of them, leaving the unblemished skin of his chest on display. “but yeah, we’re all on the same page.”
it’s still hard to believe that the shy little yuta you’ve come to know has turned over a promiscuous new leaf. it would be one thing if he simply lost his virginity and settled down with one partner but the extent of his sexual activities has truly surprised you. a question comes to mind—one that you normally wouldn’t ask your other friends but an important one considering yuta only just started sleeping around. “you’re getting tested, right?”
the question doesn’t phase him the way you think it will. you expect his eyes to widen and a furious red to overtake his cheeks and the tips of his ears but neither happens. he simply nods. “yes, of course.”
“and you’re wearing condoms?” you follow up.
“mm-mm.” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into place. “who knows how many women i’ve gotten pregnant by now.”
you can’t hide the disbelief that paints your features—the way your mouth hangs open and your unblinking gaze glued on the man before you. the shock of his words makes it difficult to find your voice and you’re sure it comes out higher than usual when you finally do. “yuta, you cannot—“
“i’m joking!” he exclaims with a wide smile. it shrinks into something smaller when he sees how serious you are. “yes, i am wearing condoms. jeez, what’s with the third degree?”
“it’s nothing, just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” you had planned on sticking around until it was time for him to leave but the thought of staying here while he’s getting ready to see—to fuck—someone else isn’t a pleasant one. you swing your legs over the side of his bed and stand up, making your way to the door. “i’m leaving. have fun fucking your flavor of the day.”
“wait, wait, wait.” yuta reaches out to grab your arm. his calloused grip is warm and firm, though, you’re sure you could pull away if you wanted to—he’s made sure of that much. despite that, you don’t. “you aren’t jealous, are you?”
“wow,” you scoff and turn to face him. there’s a sparkling glint in his eyes, one that has no place being there. “you have seriously let this inflate your ego.”
your comment doesn’t offend him, doesn’t hurt him the way you secretly wished it would. instead, his thumb glides against your wrist, runs over your pulse as he leans down closer to you. his voice comes out just above a whisper. “you aren’t curious? not even a little?”
“not everyone wants you, yuta.” you finally pull your hand back. “someone should really put you in your place.”
your words put a smile on his face. “are you volunteering?”
you have no idea what’s gotten into him, why he’s poking you like a bear and looking for a reaction, but his incessant goading has done its job. reflexively, almost without a thought, your hands come up to shove the broad chest before you. yuta stumbles back and his legs hit the mattress, causing him to fall back against it.
for the first time since you walked in, shock washes over yuta’s face the moment you begin to approach him. you find yourself crawling on the bed and straddling him, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. his lips are parted now and they only seal when he swallows the lump lodged in his throat.
it’s almost enough to make you laugh—how quickly his tune changed from confident to a bundle of nerves. you guess this has yet to happen to him, not being the one who’s calling the shots, that is. maybe you aren’t quite laughing, but it does make a grin stretch across your lips.
“what happened, yuta?” you ask him, sitting back on your calves. you lift your hand and bring it to his face, letting your finger drag along the curve of his jaw. it may just be your imagination, but you swear you can feel him shiver at your touch. “you were practically begging for this just a second ago. but if you changed your mind, i’ll get up and go.”
“no.” he shakes his head, the hair against his comforter growing frizzy with the careless movement. his hands come up to rest on your hips. “please stay.”
“ah-ah.” you knock his hands away and panic flashes over the man’s face. “no touching. you have to earn that.”
he swallows thickly and gazes up at you with curiosity swimming in his eyes. “h-how?”
“be good for me,” you tell him, the grin apparent in your voice. you brush the stray strands of hair away from his face before leaning down just like yuta had to you only moments earlier. this time, you’re sure that he shivers when your whispered voice tickles him as you ask, “tell me what you want me to do.”
your fingernails graze over his exposed skin—down his neck, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, anywhere you reach. it’s meant to be no more than a way to keep you busy while you wait for a reply from yuta, but he seems to enjoy the touch and the way goosebumps raise following the drag of your nails. although his quiet moans are easy on the ears, it’s a bit boring for your taste. your hand slows on its path in search of an answer. “hmm?”
you’re almost convinced that his voice is stuck in his throat when his request finally fills the air. “k-kiss me, please.”
you waste no time fulfilling his wish, brushing your lips over the same spots your fingers had just been, stopping every now and then to press them down in soft kisses. they grow deeper as you traverse against his smooth skin, love bites marking the once spotless canvas. by the time you make your way up to his lips, your kiss is hungry, almost desperate on your end and his—like the both of you have been silently waiting for this time to come.
as much as you enjoy yuta’s pillowy lips against yours and the way he melts for you when your tongue slips past them, you have a desire for more. you keep that bit to yourself so as not to feed yuta’s existing albeit dormant cockiness, though, you are willing to nudge him in the right direction.
you pull back from the kiss, still close enough that yuta can feel your breath when you speak. “don’t tell me all you want is for me to kiss you. there must be something else…”
there are a lot of things that come to mind, a lot of things yuta has dreamt of doing with you, but one rises above the rest. he can only hope that you’re willing to indulge him. “would you…” his voice trails off as he turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.
“go ahead,” you start, grabbing his chin and turning his head so that he’s looking at you, “ask me.”
he’s never felt this hesitant before but none of the women he’s slept with have been you. they’ve never made him ask for what he wants, patiently waited until he verbalized his desires. and he hasn’t wanted that, no, not from them. as foreign as the task is, he’ll do it if that means finally getting a taste of you.
despite the warmth spreading over his cheeks, yuta forces himself to hold your eye. “can you—can you please sit on my face?”
hearing the words pass his lips makes your heart jump in your chest. the goal had been to get him to admit what he craved the most but part of you believed that yuta was still holding onto his old ways, too bashful and shy to come clean about his needs. perhaps you’re holding onto a version of him that he’s left behind for good, though, you want to see for yourself. “you really want me to?”
“god, yes, please.” his fingers dig into the comforter beneath him in an attempt to keep from touching you like you told him even though he’s itching to. he’ll be patient, be good, for you. “i want to taste you so bad.”
shy little yuta really is gone.
but you suppose it isn’t all that bad.
you crawl forward over him to situate yourself. his breath is warm against your bare thighs and it makes your skin prickle. you hike the skirt you’re wearing up your legs so the fabric doesn’t obstruct your view of his face—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see the show.
“you aren’t going to take off your panties?” yuta asks. he’s only inches away now and he’s sure if he tilted his head up just a little bit, he’d be able to stick his tongue out and reach you.
you shake your head with a smile. “i’ll tell you when you can move them. you can lick me through them for now.”
there’s a complaint ready on the tip of his tongue about how he wants to taste and feel you—only you, but he bites it back, figuring that you’ll revoke your generosity entirely if he seems ungrateful. patience, he reminds himself. if he’s patient, he’ll have all of you soon enough.
he wets his lips before diving in, tongue sloppily licking at the layer of cotton keeping him from you. despite the barrier, he can make out your landmarks—the lips he’s wishing his tongue could slip between and your clit that he desperately wants to suck on. even though it isn’t quite what he was expecting, he eats you out through your panties like a man starved.
the fabric is soaked through now and if it weren’t for the hint of you on his tongue, yuta would wonder whether it was his spit or your arousal leaving a darkened spot on your panties. the thought that he got you wound up enough to soak through your underwear oddly fills him with a sense of pride—feeds the ego you claimed he had earlier. he had brushed it off then but it’s hard to ignore now considering that you’re the woman he’s wanted to do this with for the longest.
yuta is a lot more talented with his tongue than you anticipated he would be. you can’t remember the last time someone drew such satisfied noises from you—sharp gasps that you suck in whenever he happens to brush against your clit and musical moans that fill the room when he finds that magical rhythm. you’re beyond pleased with his performance, but an unwelcome thought nags at the back of your mind as the man eats you out; just how many women did it take him tongue-fucking for it to feel this good? you know you shouldn’t say it, but you voice your thoughts anyway. the question comes out breathy, “did you learn to use your tongue like this on all those other girls?”
“they–” he starts, licking you once more before continuing, “they were all practice for you.”
the ache between your thighs grows all the stronger with his confession. you don’t doubt the sincerity of his words—if there’s one thing that you know yuta will never abandon, it’s his honesty. you can admit to yourself that you were jealous earlier, jealous of all the women yuta decided to sleep with instead of you. the envy has all but dissipated now that you know you’ve always been the object of his affection.
“push them to the side,” you tell him hurriedly. yuta doesn’t waste a second following your command, hooking a finger on your panties to drag them to the side. your glistening wetness is hypnotizing and if he wasn’t already salivating this sight would surely be enough to have him drooling. he thinks he could stare at your pretty pussy all day but what he really wants is for you to come on his tongue.
before you know it, he’s lapping at you like your arousal is the very water that he needs to survive. there’s saliva running down his chin as he savors the taste of you. the vibration of his moans against you serves as a means to work you up even more, moans and whimpers of your own bubbling up from your chest.
it’s nearly impossible for you not to grind down on him, to ride his face like there’s no tomorrow. yuta doesn’t mind being trapped between your thighs, only being able to breathe in your heavenly scent and taste your honey-like essence. his tongue glides between your folds, teasing your entrance with each up on down.
“ride my tongue,” yuta’s muffled voice sounds from below you. “use me to come.”
and you do, rocking your hips against his face in rhythm with the salacious movement of his tongue. each flick of the muscle is a drop in your cup that’s filled to the brim, threatening to spill over and flood at any moment. all it takes are a few swirls of his tongue around your sensitive pearl for a wave of pleasure to wash over you. your thighs tremble with your orgasm and your back arches as the aftershocks ripple through you all while yuta continues to languidly stroke your cunt.
he hums against you as you come down from your high, leaving a kiss on your clit before telling you, “you taste so good.”
the compliment makes your heart flutter. “you think so?”
he nods, or at least tries to from his place between your legs. “the best i’ve ever had.”
“well then i guess it’s only fair for me to return the favor,” you suggest, letting your head loll to the side. you can practically see the gears turning in yuta’s head but he doesn’t speak up to question you, instead, waiting for your clarification. “what do you say; want me to suck you off?”
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thanks for reading! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated :))
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urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago
Note
Would it be alright if I asked for some X Men headcannons with all the characters you currently write for where the reader has deals with chronic hip pain however she doesn't tell them that it occasionally pops out and she can pop it back in herself because she doesn't want to bother them with an issue she can resolve herself until she has to do it in front of them while on a mission? I'm so sorry if this breaks any request rules or guidelines I couldn't find a post that had them listed! Also I just wanted to say I really enjoy your writing and I look forward to anything you post!
X-Men x Reader
You have chronic hip pain and they find out about it
You have been hiding your chronic hip pain from your partner, fearing you would be a burden, but during a mission or in a vulnerable moment, the truth comes out.
Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Jean Grey, Wade Wilson & Rogue
As someone who suffers from multiple chronic pain in different joints, as well as one in the hips, this prompt particularly touches me, so thank you. I hope you like it ♡ And thank you for the compliment! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl
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Logan Howlett (Wolverine)
- Being with Logan is intense, both physically and emotionally. You love his fierce protectiveness, his strength, and his unwavering loyalty, but you also know he tends to worry—especially about you. That's why you’ve kept your chronic hip pain to yourself, knowing how he’d react if he found out you were dealing with it alone. Logan has enough on his plate without adding your physical issues into the mix, and besides, you’ve gotten good at managing the pain. It’s not like it affects your life in any major way—at least, that’s what you’ve told yourself.
- On a particularly dangerous mission, your hip starts acting up. You’re deep in enemy territory, and the stakes are high. You manage to push through the discomfort for most of the mission, but as you land from a jump, your hip finally gives out. The pain is sudden and sharp, and you know you need to pop it back into place. Trying to stay discreet, you find cover and do what you’ve always done—adjusting your leg to realign your hip with a grimace. Unfortunately, Logan notices immediately. He’s always been attuned to your every move, and the second he sees you in pain, he’s by your side in an instant.
- “What the hell are you doing?” His gruff voice cuts through the tension as he kneels next to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern. You try to brush it off, but Logan isn’t having any of it. “That ain’t somethin’ you hide from me,” he growls, his gaze hard. You explain the situation—how it’s been a chronic problem for years and that you didn’t want to worry him. Logan’s jaw clenches, his frustration palpable. “Darlin’, you don’t get to decide what I worry about. That’s my job.”
- After that, Logan is relentless in making sure you’re taken care of. He’s constantly checking on you, offering to carry you when your hip bothers you, and giving you space to rest when you need it. His gruff exterior melts away when it comes to your well-being, and his protective instincts kick into overdrive. “Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you go through this alone,” he tells you one night as he helps you adjust your leg after a long day. He’s gentle, far more so than anyone would expect from him, his hands careful as he massages the sore muscles around your hip.
- Logan’s solution is simple: he makes sure you never feel like a burden. Whether it’s during missions or at home, he’s always there, watching your back and offering his help without hesitation. “We’re a team, remember?” he says one day, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb brushing over the spot where the pain usually resides. “And that means you don’t have to deal with anythin’ on your own.”
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Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
- Remy is perceptive, always reading between the lines and noticing things others might miss. That's part of what makes him such a great partner, but it’s also what makes it harder for you to hide your chronic hip pain from him. You've managed to keep it under wraps for the most part, popping your hip back into place whenever it slips without him noticing. Remy is always so full of energy, so carefree, and you don't want to dampen that with your issues, especially when you can handle them yourself—at least, that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.
- During a mission, though, things go wrong. You’re in the middle of a heated fight, dodging attacks and moving quickly when your hip slips out of place. The pain is sharp and immediate, and you know you need to pop it back in before you can continue. Without thinking, you duck behind cover, quickly adjusting your leg to realign your hip. As you do, you hear Remy’s voice in your ear, laced with concern. “Chère, what you doin’? You okay?”
- He catches you mid-movement, his sharp eyes narrowing as he puts the pieces together. Remy quickly makes his way over to you, worry etched across his face. “Dis ain’t somethin’ you been dealin’ wit’ alone, right?” he asks, his usual playful tone replaced with something more serious. You try to downplay it, explaining that it’s been a chronic issue and that you didn’t want to bother him with it. Remy frowns, his eyes darkening as he kneels beside you. “You tink I don’t want to know when you hurtin’? C’mon, chère, dat ain’t how we do t’ings.”
- After that mission, Remy becomes even more attentive. He insists on helping you whenever your hip starts acting up, whether it's offering his shoulder to lean on or massaging the area when the pain gets bad. He’s surprisingly tender, his usual flirtatious demeanor softening into something more protective when it comes to your well-being. “Ain’t no need to be shy wit’ me, ma belle,” he says one night, his hands gentle as he rubs the sore muscles in your leg. “I’m here for all of it, pain an’ all.”
- Remy never makes you feel like a burden, instead turning every moment of vulnerability into an opportunity to show how much he cares. He’s always there, with a wink and a smile, but beneath that charm is a deep concern for your happiness and health. “You don’t ever need to hide from me, chère,” he says one evening as the two of you sit together, his arm wrapped around your waist. “We a team, you an’ me. I’m in dis for de long haul.” And in those moments, you realize that with Remy by your side, you’ll never have to face the pain alone.
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Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)
- Kurt has always been so graceful, moving through life with a lightness and ease that’s almost magical. You admire that about him, and you’ve never wanted to weigh him down with your chronic hip pain. He’s so gentle, so kind, always focused on making sure you’re happy and comfortable. You’ve managed your pain well enough, not wanting to bother him with something you’ve been handling on your own for years, especially since it’s always been more of an inconvenience than anything else. But on a mission, when you’re both deep in hostile territory, your hip finally gives out in the worst possible way.
- You’ve trained yourself to ignore the pain when it flares up, but this time, it’s different. The terrain is uneven, and after one wrong landing, your hip slips out of place with a sharp, searing pain. Kurt is mid-teleport, taking out enemies with his acrobatic movements when you feel it happen. You’re quick to duck behind a boulder, gritting your teeth as you try to realign it without making a scene. You don’t want to distract him from the mission, but as soon as you try to pop it back into place, Kurt appears beside you in a flash of sulfuric smoke.
- His yellow eyes widen with concern as he takes in the situation. “Liebes, what’s wrong?” His voice is full of worry, and you can’t bring yourself to brush him off. You explain quickly, telling him how your hip has been a problem for a long time and how you’ve been managing it yourself. Kurt’s brows knit together as he listens, and when you finish, he shakes his head, looking hurt but not angry. “Why did you not tell me?” he asks softly, gently helping you shift your leg to ease the pain. “You should never have to suffer alone.”
- After the mission, Kurt makes it his personal mission to ensure you never have to handle your hip pain by yourself again. He starts incorporating exercises into your routine to strengthen the muscles around your hip, always careful to avoid anything that might aggravate it. He’s patient and understanding, never making you feel like a burden for needing help. “You are my world, Liebes,” he tells you one night as you rest together, his tail curling affectionately around your leg. “I would never want you to suffer in silence.”
- He becomes your constant support, both physically and emotionally. Whether he’s helping you during a flare-up or teleporting you somewhere more comfortable when the pain becomes too much, Kurt never hesitates to be by your side. His love for you is unwavering, and he makes sure you know that your pain will never be a burden to him. “You are everything to me,” he says one evening, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I will always be here to help you, no matter what.”
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Scott Summers (Cyclops)
- You’ve been managing your chronic hip pain for years, never feeling the need to burden anyone with it, especially Scott. He's the leader of the X-Men, always juggling so many responsibilities that your small physical ailment seems trivial in comparison. You've gotten used to popping your hip back into place whenever it slips, and it’s never been a problem—until now. On missions, you’ve always been careful to avoid any situation that might aggravate it, keeping your pain to yourself and maintaining your focus on the task at hand.
- But today, the pain hits harder than usual, probably from the heavy landing you made after leaping from a ledge during a mission. You can feel it—the sharp, familiar ache—and you know it’s only a matter of time before it gives out. In the middle of the fight, you try to ignore it, but the pain intensifies until your hip finally pops out of place. You freeze, desperately needing to pop it back in, but the mission is still ongoing. Without thinking, you quickly duck behind cover and try to discreetly adjust yourself, hoping Scott doesn’t notice.
- Unfortunately, Scott sees everything. His eyes narrow behind his visor, and you can feel his laser-sharp focus honing in on you, even in the chaos of the battle. “Are you okay?” His voice crackles through your comms, calm but laced with concern. You grit your teeth, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, Scott. Just need a minute.” But Scott knows you too well, and he doesn’t believe you for a second. When the battle ends, he rushes over to you, his face etched with worry. “What’s going on? I saw you struggling back there.”
- You sigh, realizing there’s no hiding it anymore. You explain the hip pain, how it’s been a chronic issue for years, and how you didn’t want to bother him with it. Scott’s expression shifts from concern to frustration—not with you, but with the fact that you’ve been suffering in silence. “You should have told me,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to handle this alone.”
- From that point on, Scott makes it his personal mission to help you manage your condition. He insists on finding ways to make your missions less physically taxing, even if it means altering strategies or teaming you with someone who can assist if needed. At home, he’s constantly asking if you need anything, researching exercises that might help strengthen your hip. And every time your hip starts to hurt, he’s there, offering support, both physically and emotionally, never making you feel like a burden. "You're part of this team," he tells you one night as you lay in bed. "And you're the most important part of my life. Don't ever think you're bothering me.”
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Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)
- Erik has always been a man of immense strength, both physically and emotionally. You admire his resilience, his determination to fight for what he believes in, and you’ve never wanted to seem weak in his eyes. Your chronic hip pain has been a constant companion for years, but you’ve always managed to handle it on your own. Erik has enough battles to fight, and you don’t want to burden him with something as small as your occasional discomfort. But during a high-stakes mission, when your hip finally gives out, there’s no hiding it anymore.
- The mission is intense, with enemies surrounding you on all sides. You’re doing your best to keep up with Erik’s powerful presence, but as you dive for cover, your hip slips out of place. The pain is immediate and excruciating, but you try to push through it, not wanting to slow Erik down. As you quickly duck behind cover, you attempt to pop your hip back into place, hoping Erik doesn’t notice. But of course, Erik is far too perceptive, and his sharp eyes catch the movement instantly.
- “What are you doing?” His voice is stern, and you can feel his eyes burning into you as he approaches. You try to brush it off, but Erik’s not one to be deceived. He crouches down beside you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he looks at you with concern. “You’re in pain,” he states, his tone softening slightly. You explain the situation, telling him about your chronic hip pain and how you’ve been dealing with it yourself. Erik’s expression darkens, and you can see the frustration in his eyes—not at you, but at the fact that you’ve been suffering in silence.
- “You should have told me,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and disappointment. “I would never want you to hide something like this from me.” From that moment on, Erik takes it upon himself to ensure you never have to deal with your hip pain alone again. He may be a man of power, but when it comes to you, his touch is always gentle, his concern always genuine. He begins making adjustments to his plans, always considering your well-being and ensuring you’re never pushed beyond your limits.
- Erik is fiercely protective, and after learning about your hip, his protective instincts only intensify. He finds ways to make your missions less physically demanding, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable. At home, he’s constantly asking how you’re feeling, offering massages and making sure you’re resting when you need it. “You’re important to me,” he tells you one night, his hand resting on your hip as you lay together in bed. “And I will never let you go through this alone.” With Erik by your side, you feel safe, knowing that he’ll always be there to help you through the pain.
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Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)
- Wanda has always been deeply attuned to emotions, both hers and yours. She’s someone who understands pain and struggle, having lived through so much herself, but you’ve never wanted to weigh her down with your own chronic hip pain. It’s been a part of your life for years, something you’ve learned to manage on your own, and though it’s frustrating at times, it’s never felt like something worth sharing with Wanda—until the day you’re on a mission together, and everything changes.
- The mission is intense, filled with chaos and danger, and you’re doing your best to keep up. But in the middle of a fight, as you dodge an attack, your hip slips out of place with a sharp, searing pain. You bite back a gasp, quickly ducking behind cover as you try to pop your hip back in without drawing attention. But before you can even try, you feel a gentle pulse of energy wrap around you. Wanda’s magic—red and warm—flows over you, and you know she’s sensed something is wrong.
- “What’s happening?” Wanda’s voice echoes in your mind, her concern immediately apparent. You don’t want to distract her from the battle, but you can’t hide the truth. You explain quickly, telling her about your chronic hip pain and how you’ve been dealing with it alone. Wanda doesn’t hesitate. In an instant, she teleports to your side, her eyes glowing with a fierce, protective light. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, her voice filled with worry, but there’s no anger in her tone, only concern.
- Wanda helps you through the pain, using her magic to gently ease your hip back into place. Her touch is soft, her presence comforting, and in that moment, you realize just how much you’ve been holding back from her. After the mission, Wanda makes it clear that you don’t have to deal with your pain alone anymore. She starts using her magic to help manage your hip, casting healing spells and creating charms to keep the pain at bay. “You’re not a burden,” she tells you one evening as you sit together, her hand resting on your hip. “We’re in this together. Always.”
- With Wanda’s support, you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. She never lets you feel like a burden, and her love for you is unwavering. Whenever the pain flares up, Wanda is there, using her magic to make it easier for you. She becomes your constant source of strength, and with her by your side, you feel like you can handle anything. “You don’t have to hide your pain from me,” she says softly one night, her fingers gently tracing your skin. “I’ll always be here to help you, no matter what.”
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Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)
- Being with Pietro is like living in a whirlwind. He’s always moving, always full of energy, and you love the excitement he brings into your life. But that same energy is part of the reason you’ve never told him about your chronic hip pain. You didn’t want to slow him down, didn’t want him to feel like he had to adjust his pace for you. You’ve been handling the pain on your own for years, and it’s never been an issue—until the day your hip gives out during a mission.
- You’re both in the middle of a high-speed chase, running through the city as you try to outmaneuver your enemies. Pietro’s a blur of silver and blue, darting ahead while you do your best to keep up. But as you leap over a barrier, your hip slips out of place, sending a sharp pain shooting through your leg. You stumble, biting back a cry as you duck behind cover, trying to pop your hip back in as quickly as possible. You don’t want Pietro to notice, but of course, he’s already there in an instant.
- “What’s wrong?” Pietro’s voice is sharp with concern, and before you can even answer, he’s crouching beside you, his blue eyes scanning you for injuries. You try to brush it off, but Pietro’s not having it. “Tell me what’s going on,” he insists, his voice softer now but still filled with worry. Reluctantly, you explain about your chronic hip pain, how you’ve been dealing with it yourself because you didn’t want to bother him. Pietro’s expression shifts, and for a moment, he looks hurt. “You think I wouldn’t want to know?” he asks quietly.
- From that moment on, Pietro refuses to let you suffer in silence. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re comfortable and never pushing you too hard. He even slows down for you when he needs to, never making you feel like you’re holding him back. “You’re not a burden,” he tells you firmly one day as you sit together, his arm wrapped around your waist. “I’d rather be at your pace than leave you behind.”
- Pietro’s love for you is as fast and fierce as everything else he does, and he makes sure you never have to handle your pain alone again. Whether it’s carrying you when your hip is acting up or making sure you have a comfortable place to rest, he’s always by your side. “You’re everything to me,” he says one night as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll always take care of you, no matter how fast or slow we have to go.”
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Jean Grey (Phoenix)
- Jean is the most intuitive person you’ve ever known, her empathy so strong that it’s almost impossible to hide anything from her. But you’ve managed to keep your chronic hip pain a secret, not because you don’t trust her, but because you didn’t want to worry her. Jean has so much on her plate, with her powers and the constant responsibilities of being an X-Man. You’ve always handled your hip pain on your own, and it never seemed like something worth burdening her with—until one day, when you’re on a mission together, and it becomes impossible to hide.
- The mission is going well, but as you leap from a ledge, your hip slips out of place with a sharp, sudden pain. You try to hide it, biting your lip as you duck behind cover, quickly attempting to pop your hip back into place. But you can feel Jean’s presence in your mind before you can even move. Her concern washes over you, her mental voice soft but urgent. Are you okay? You sigh, knowing there’s no hiding it from her now. “I’m fine, Jean,” you say out loud, but she’s already at your side, her eyes full of worry.
- “You’re not fine,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. Jean listens quietly as you explain your chronic hip pain, how it’s been an issue for years, and how you’ve been managing it on your own. She frowns, her brows knitting together as she processes what you’re telling her. “You should have told me,” she says softly, her hand resting on your arm. “I could have helped you.” There’s no anger in her voice, only concern and a deep, unwavering love. You feel her empathy wrapping around you like a warm blanket, soothing your fears and making you realize that you don’t have to carry this burden alone.
- From that moment on, Jean makes sure you never have to deal with your hip pain in silence. She’s always checking in on you, using her telepathy to gently monitor how you’re feeling without being intrusive. She even starts researching ways to help manage the pain, from physical therapy exercises to mental techniques for pain management. “We’ll figure this out together,” she tells you one day as you sit together, her hand resting on your hip. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”
- Jean is endlessly supportive, both mentally and physically. Whenever your hip starts acting up, she’s there, offering to help you realign it or using her telekinesis to make the process less painful. Her empathy and care make you feel cherished, and she never makes you feel like a burden. “You’re my partner,” she says one evening as you lay together, her fingers gently tracing circles on your skin. “And that means we share everything—the good and the bad. I’m here for you, always.” With Jean by your side, you know that you’ll never have to face your pain alone again.
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Wade Wilson (Deadpool)
- Wade is anything but conventional, and that’s one of the things you love most about him. He’s chaotic, loud, and completely unpredictable, but he’s also fiercely protective of you. You’ve never wanted to burden him with your chronic hip pain, though. He already has enough on his plate, what with his healing factor and constant battle scars. Your hip pain seems so small compared to everything he deals with, so you’ve been managing it on your own—until one day, when Wade finds out in the most Wade way possible.
- You’re both in the middle of a mission, and things are going as well as they ever do when you’re working with Deadpool, which is to say: absolute chaos. Wade is cracking jokes, slicing through enemies, and generally causing mayhem, while you’re doing your best to stay focused. But then, as you dive to avoid an explosion, your hip slips out of place with a painful pop. You grit your teeth, ducking behind cover to pop it back in, hoping Wade doesn’t notice. Unfortunately, he does.
- “Babe! What the hell was that?” Wade’s voice comes over the comms, full of concern, and before you can even respond, he’s next to you, his mask tilted as if he’s trying to get a better look at you. “Did your hip just do the thing? You didn’t tell me you had a thing!” You sigh, knowing there’s no avoiding the conversation now. You explain about your chronic hip pain, how it’s been an issue for years, and how you’ve been handling it yourself because you didn’t want to bother him. Wade stares at you for a moment before letting out a dramatic gasp. “Bother me? Babe, I literally regrow limbs. I think I can handle a little hip action.”
- From that moment on, Wade makes it his personal mission to make sure you never have to deal with your hip pain alone. He turns it into a running joke, calling himself your “personal hip specialist” and constantly offering to “massage your beautiful, badass hip.” But beneath the jokes, Wade is genuinely concerned for you, and he takes your pain seriously. He starts carrying you around whenever your hip acts up, always cracking jokes to make you laugh, but you can tell he’s keeping an eye on you, making sure you’re okay.
- “You’re my hot, kickass partner,” Wade says one night as you both relax at home, his head resting on your lap. “And if you think for one second that I wouldn’t want to help you with this, you’re crazy. I mean, crazier than me, and that’s saying something.” Wade’s love may be unconventional, but it’s fierce and unwavering, and he makes sure you never feel like a burden. Whenever your hip pain flares up, Wade is there with a joke and a helping hand, making you feel cherished and cared for, no matter what.
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Rogue (Anna Marie)
- Rogue has always been cautious with you, careful not to hurt you with her powers. She’s your fiercely protective Southern belle, and you love her for that. But when it comes to your chronic hip pain, you’ve kept it to yourself. You never wanted her to feel like she had to take care of you when she already deals with so much of her own struggles. You’ve gotten used to quietly popping your hip back in place when needed, but it’s something you don’t plan on letting her see—until one mission changes everything.
- You’re both out in the field, dealing with a group of rogue Sentinels. The battle is intense, and you’re focused, trying to keep up with Rogue’s flying acrobatics. But as you leap out of the way of one of the robot’s attacks, your hip slips out of place with a sharp, agonizing pain. You stumble behind some rubble, gritting your teeth as you try to pop it back into place. Unfortunately, Rogue sees the whole thing.
- “Sugar, what’s goin’ on?” she asks, her voice filled with concern as she hovers above you. She lands beside you, reaching out as if to help, but stops herself, her gloved hands hovering just inches from your arm. You hesitate, not wanting to burden her, but the worry in her green eyes convinces you to tell the truth. You explain your chronic hip pain and how you’ve been dealing with it yourself because you didn’t want her to worry. Rogue listens carefully, her brow furrowed, and when you finish, she lets out a long sigh.
- “You think Ah wouldn’t wanna know somethin’ like that?” she asks softly, her accent thick with emotion. “Ah love you, sugah, and if you’re hurtin’, Ah need to know. It don’t matter if it’s somethin’ you’re used to. Ah want to help.” From that moment on, Rogue makes it her mission to help you in any way she can. Whenever your hip acts up, she’s quick to offer her strength—lifting you, carrying you, or even just sitting with you until the pain passes. She makes sure you know that you’re never a burden to her.
- Rogue’s love is as strong as she is, and she refuses to let you face your pain alone. She’s always there, whether it’s helping you get comfortable or making sure you have a supportive cushion to sit on. “You’re mah heart,” she whispers one night as she gently rests her head against yours, her gloved hand resting on your hip. “Ah’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me.”
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serpenlupus · 9 months ago
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About Wyll and his horns (and what they mean)
Let's say I was writing a part of my Tav's story with Wyll directly connected to the dialogue he has during the tiefling party, and while struggling with this bit, I've realized there's quite a few misconceptions floating around. I felt compelled to add information to the table that might clear them, so here we go.
First, what exactly happens to Wyll when he disobeys Mizora in act one? Well, he doesn't get turned into a devil, he certainly doesn't get turned into a tiefling, he's not a half fiend, not a demon, none of that. Wyll stays human, but he has horns and red eyes (and other features we can't see on his model as of now).
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(Everyone has their race listed, Wyll's remains "Human")
This is because when a warlock fails to uphold some part of their contract they can suffer a certain number of consequences, Wylls is “The character grows horns, a tail, or some other devilish features that can't be removed by any means short of divine intervention. As long as these marks persist the character detects as a fiend when subjected to Detect Evil and Good spells or similar magic.” ( from Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus, page 214)
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And I’ve come across some people that think it wasn’t so bad of a punishment, that he was being racist towards the tieflings, or just not being justified in being upset after having his body forcibly changed against his will. I think they are missunderstanding just how insidious Mizora’s actions were, and here I just want to give some context to maybe bring a better understanding to the situation. Your conclusions are up to you.
Gonna start by using a not exact analogy, but I think it’s going to make the explanation easier. Stick with me for a minute.
Remember Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean? He had a branded “P” on his arm that marked him as a pirate. A murderer, robber, criminal, etc. in the eyes of the society he was a part of. What did Jack do to earn the branding? (if you don’t know this I suggest you look up the “people aren’t cargo mate” scene) He refused to transport slaves and later freed them, and Beckett had him marked as punishment.
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Then, in the first movie, he saves Elizabeth, a woman he didn’t know, from drowning. Right after however, when Norrington sees he has a branded “P”, he’s like “alright, off to jail with you, and then hanging”, no other option crosses his mind. Again, Jack doesn’t know Elizabeth, isn’t indicated to think he is going to be rewarded for helping her, he just sees a drowning person, sees that no one else is going to help, and chooses to save them. That is a pretty selfless/good aligned thing to do, for no other reason that he was the one able to do it, yet the branding in his arm overrides any good action he could ever do, marking him as a criminal for execution and no further thought.
In a way, that’s what Mizora did to Wyll; she forever visibly branded him as someone that has made deals with devils, and that in the world of DnD is a VERY BAD THING. Personally I really like the mod that gives him more devilish features, but at the same time I think there was something clever about choosing to leave him looking more human. He can’t be confused with a tiefling, he doesn’t have the ears, the claws, the tail, all those features that characterize them. He looks kind of uncanny, and that would be like a red flag for anyone in that world. (Beyond the already existing hate for tieflings that I’m not gonna tackle on here because it’s a complicated thing that deserves its own post). And Wyll wants to do good, he wants to help people, to be a positive force in the world so, so badly. This dude got abducted by a nautiloid, got tadpole’d, and the first thing he did right after that was come across the Tiefling refugees and be like “Oh you need help? No worries let me teach you self defense. Oh you being attacked by goblins? Let me blast them real quick”. His way of saying fuck you to all the awful things that have happened to him is being aggressively good and kind. Mizora knows this very well, wants to see him suffer for her amusement, wants to remind him he can't escape her claws, so her choice of punishment was to forever taint his future interactions with mistrust and suspicion. Some people can go real fast from “oh thank God they saved me” to “oh no, are they gonna rob me, are they trying to trick me, are they in cahoots with the ones that attacked me first?” just because of outward appearances. Especially in DnD world. And that deserves its own conversation, but we're focusing on Wyll here.
(Mizora, when I catch you Mizora)
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have made a deal in the first plac- - “ He was seventeen, alone, preyed upon by Mizora and put in an impossible situation. Please PAY ATTENTION to the story you’re witnesing.
Anyway.
About the tieflings. I know it’s easy to think his words can be derisive towards them, but it’s less about the horns and more about his body being changed against his will. Imagine instead that he got half his face burned, or something that disfigured him. I think his feelings at the moment were closer to that, and yeah they are pretty insensitive words to say to someone with a similar condition (horns or disfiguration), but when feelings are fresh and raw like that it’s easy to say insensitive things. Not saying it was ok for him to say them, but there was no malice in his words. I’ve also seen some people share that they think Mizora wanted to change him more to make him unrecognizable to his original self, the Wyll Ravenguard kid, and I think there is some truth to that too. She wants to make sure that Wyll remembers that he belongs to her, there's no question to that.
(MIZORA, WHEN I CATCH YOU MIZORA)
Whether the Tieflings refugees would feel unsettled by Wyll or not? Yes. In a way, they would. From reasons aside from the ones I explained above, remember that these specific tieflings come from Elturel. If you didn’t pass the History check or don’t remember, Elturel is a city that was literally ripped from the land and dragged to Avernus, First layer of hell (it left a hole on the ground and everything) because their mayor made a deal with the Archdevil Zariel some decades back in the timeline. He sold the souls of all its citizens and the city itself.
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This was probably one of the worst times of their lives. Some even got captured and forced to participate in the blood War, like Dammon as a mechanic. And after Elturel got returned to the surface, the tieflings lost their homes because they reminded the other citizens of the literal Hell they’d just gone through, and they kicked them out. And remember, they met and saw Wyll as a human, and then saw him with horns. It’s not unreasonable to think that by looking at him they would be reminded of all the events that led them to the awful situation they’re in. Because of someone that was making deals with devils, just like Wyll. Even if his situation is completely different. And Wyll knows that, that’s why he tells you the tieflings are unsettled by him and chooses to stay away during the party.
It was never just about the horns.
And I know Wyll calls himself a devil but I think it’s because it’s the closest thing he looks as; devils are a whole different race with their own intricacies, although humans can be turned into devils ONCE their souls go to Avernus and they start climbing the power hierarchy there (Mizora and Raphael are cambions/ half-devils btw, which is a different thing,  there are plenty of videos exploring those details more in depth).
Do I think Larian should have made some of this information clearer/easier to access? Maybe? but to be fair, it's a game focused and dedicated to a crowd that was already somewhat familiar with the source material, that blew up waay out of what they originally expected to reach. Hopefully they’ll add some clarifications like they did to other quests. 
Anyway these are my two cents to the conversation, have a nice day, and don't hesitate to add your two cents if you feel like it!
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quitesins · 11 months ago
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Boxer!Bakugou x Sports Journalist!Reader
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Masterlist
Tags: Sfw, Drabble, Female!reader, Aged up!character, Boxer!Bkg, Sports journalist!Reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw
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“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”
Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.
It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.
“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.
“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”
Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.
“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”
You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.
“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”
The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.
Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”
It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.
Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.
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You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.
He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.
“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.
“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.
“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”
He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.
“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”
“Should I be?”
Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”
“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”
“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”
“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”
For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.
“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”
“What?”
“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”
“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.
“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”
Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.
“That shut you up, huh?”
You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.
“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.
It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.
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I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…
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noosayog · 1 year ago
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[how a loser dates] ft. kuroo
warnings/content: fem! reader x kuroo, office setting, timeskip characters obvi, fluff and kuroo being a loser
wc: 1.2k
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"Morning, princess," your coworker, Kuroo, calls out teasingly from his desk in reference to the dress you're wearing today that replaces your usual slacks. 
"Morning, rooster head."
He chuckles a bit and returns his attention to his computer. 
Throughout the morning, Kuroo looks up every now and then, just staring at you but saying nothing. It's only later in the afternoon when you're settled down from the rush of the morning that Kuroo asks. "What's the occasion?"
"What?" you ask distractedly.
"The occasion," he repeats. His voice comes from right over your head and you look up to see his desk empty. Instead, he's standing behind you, leaning an elbow against the wall of your cubicle.
"What?" you parrot.
His eyes drift deliberately down your silhouette, then back up to meet your gaze, punctuating his silent question with a raise of his brow.
"Oh," you laugh. "The dress? I have a date tonight."
Kuroo's other brow raises. "A date?"
"Yeah."
“With who?” 
You swivel your chair to face him with your whole body. “You wouldn’t know them. They’re not from work.” 
He hums in acknowledgment then walks away with a pensive expression. 
It’s almost the end of the work day when you hear your boss’s reprimanding voice. You look up from your computer to see your boss angrily saying something to Kuroo about losing the data for an important client call tomorrow. 
After your boss stomps away, you hear Kuroo sigh. His eyes meet yours. 
“You okay?” you ask. “What happened?” 
“I was supposed to store the presentation for tomorrow’s client call but for some reason, I can’t find it anywhere on my drive.” 
“Did you check your trash?” 
“Empty.” 
“Yikes.” 
“Yeah.” 
You stare back at him, lips pursed.
“Well…” he says awkwardly. “I better get to it if I’m going to redo the presentation by tomorrow.” 
You swallow guiltily, throat itching to offer help. No, you can't. You have plans tonight. 
“Okay, good luck,” you say instead. 
He deflates. “Thanks.” 
Concentration broken, you return to your work. You shift uncomfortably when you hear him sigh. 
Five minutes later, another deep exhale. 
You can’t stop yourself when you finally ask, “do you want me to help?” 
Kuroo perks up, head poking out from the walls of the cubicle. “I mean I would love help, but you have plans and all tonight…” he trails off. 
“The reservation isn’t until 7, so I’ll help until then.” 
“Great, thanks!” he smiles. 
Kuroo is an efficient worker. It’s almost as if he had the entire thing memorized as he effortlessly lists off the slides that need to be redone, easily navigating to the resources that have the perfect data for each topic. 
“It’s like you don’t even need my help for this,” you joke. 
“No!” he interrupts loudly. 
You give him a weird look.
“Sorry” he mutters. “Can you summarize the data from these sites?” 
He passes you a sticky note with 2 websites on them. When you navigate to them, they’re long, tedious pages. You settle into your chair and get focused. If you’re going to leave here by 6:30, you better get working. 
When you finally pass the data to Kuroo, the two of you begin to compile the data you’ve respectively gathered into the proper slide deck format. When 6:30 rolls around, the to-do’s left still make up a massive mountain. 
“Um,” you say. 
Kuroo takes an exaggerated look at the watch on his wrist. “Oh, your date.” 
“Yeah.” 
He looks at the progress on the presentation just stares at the screen.
“Kuroo?” 
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, don’t worry about me. You’ve already helped so much. Go ahead and have fun on your date.” 
“Okay…” you say hesitantly, packing up your bag. Before you leave, you look back to see Kuroo, alone in the office, leaning heavily against the back of his chair with his arms draped over his eyes. You hear him sigh again before guiltily leaving him behind. 
You make it all the way to the lobby before you can’t stand it anymore. You text your date that you won’t be able to make it rush back up to the office. 
Kuroo looks surprised when you drop your things off at your desk and return to his side. 
“What happened? Don’t you need to leave?” 
“I can’t just leave you here by yourself with all this, you’ll never finish.” 
“Are you sure…” he trails off. 
“Shut up and get working.” 
“Yes, ma’’am,” he salutes. 
– 
Late in the night, even after security has left the building, Kuroo gets up. 
“We need a break,” he says. “Want some coffee?” 
“Sure,” you say, equally exhausted. 
He gets up to head to the break room as you continue to fiddle around with the slide deck. As you look through his computer, your eyes slide to the little trash can on the screen and see that it’s not empty. Curiously, you click into it and the first thing you see is the very client presentation that the two of you have been slaving away at to reproduce. 
“Oh my god, Kuroo!” you say excitedly. You repeat his name, but he must not hear you, because there’s no response. 
Then, you notice the time of deletion. 3:52PM. You remember Kuroo getting chewed around 4PM. If he deleted it, there’s no way he would forget that quickly. And he said he had checked his trash. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Kuroo comes back, holding two steaming cups of coffee and tie thrown over a shoulder. “I heard you calling.” 
“Kuroo,” you say, pointing at the screen. 
When Kuroo sees what you’re pointing at, his smile freezes in place. 
“What’s this?” 
You press when he doesn’t respond. “Why did you purposely get yourself into trouble?” 
He stares at the screen, avoiding your eyes. 
“Kuroo!” 
“Okay!” he breathes. He mumbles something unintelligible. 
“... go on your date,” you hear. 
“What? Speak up,” you say irritatedly. 
“I didn’t want you to go on your date. Okay? I know it’s immature of me to resort to such tactics, but I’ve been dropping hints for awhile and I dunno, I guess I just got impatient.” 
You sigh.
“Well, I’m just glad that you aren’t going to be yelled at because there’s no way we were going to finish by tomorrow.” 
“You’re not mad?” 
“I am. Why couldn’t you have just asked me out on a date like a normal person?” 
“I’ve asked you to go on coffee runs with me?” 
You pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Being our boss’s errand boy does not count as a date, Kuroo.” 
He just chuckles, abashed. His cheeks are turning pink and you sigh, feeling almost affectionate at how your snarky, quick-witted coworker is reduced to the romantic maturity of a high-schooler in front of you. 
“Okay, well, since I didn’t get to eat tonight, you owe me dinner,” you say, throwing him a bone. 
He blinks. “Like a date?” he asks dumbly. 
You sigh exasperatedly for what feels like the millionth time that night. “Yes, Kuroo. A date.” you emphasize heavily on date, worried that he still won’t get the picture. 
“It’s late, so there’s probably only ramen shops around if that’s okay? But I promise to take you out to a nicer diner. Like a real date.” he promises solemnly. 
“You’re already assuming I’m going to want to go on a second date with you?” 
His signature grin returns in full force. “Oh, princess. You’re gonna want that second date. Trust me.” 
“Only ‘cuz I want to see how you tame your hair for a real date.” 
“Told ‘ya you’d want a second date.”
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liveontelevision · 7 months ago
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Suffer Pt. 3
Suffer Part 3 is here! I'm planning on having at least two more parts, I was not expecting this to become a whole thing but :') I gotta see it through now lol
When I say I love slowburn fics, I mean it dammit.
Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.
(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
♡ ♡ ♡
Holding a small, sleeping Charlie close to your chest, you swayed her back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you danced around the familiar nursery, humming the same tune you've used to calm her down for years. She was asleep. Safe and oblivious to any of the chaos around her. You envied her. With one final spin, you let your eyes open. Your arms were empty. She was gone. The comfortable weight of her tiny figure instantly went away. You panicked, the room you were in was shifted into something unfamiliar and uneasy. A source of light finally drew your eyes. A distant doorframe provides light, casting the silhouette of a tall, curvy woman. Her eyes were glowing.
“L-Lillith?” There were sounds of a baby crying out and the intimidating figure became far away, ceasing any light and drowning you in a darkness that you've felt before. Long ago.
A heavy knocking at your door forced you awake. As you sat up you went to wipe the sleep from your eyes, only now noticing the tears streaming from your face. Just a dream… The knock was louder and quicker this time, forcing a response out of you. “Gimme a minute! Fuck -” You roll out of your bed, going to turn off the radio on your nightstand. Having the radio on throughout the night was something Alastor suggested, obviously, after you confided in him about having a series of nightmares. His show is broadcast while you sleep, and when it isn’t, the radio static actually acts as a soothing white noise. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it kept you from going insane in the least.
You finally approached the door, your body still wrapped in your large blanket that trailed across the floor. A cheerful, as always, Charlie stood at the door. She was quick to say good morning, but went straight to the point without letting you respond. She clearly practiced this.
“So! I know my dad's visit a few weeks ago was a liiittle… Tense? But - uh, I was wondering if you two talked yet..? By chance?” She spoke like she would be scolded for saying the wrong thing. You shook your head, still slowly blinking awake. 
“Well - okay! I was just asking because he.. keeps.. asking about you…” she held her phone out to you, letting you scroll through some of the messages he’s been sending her. You chuckle at first, he can't text for shit. But she was right. Ever since you blew him off that day, he's been asking Charlie how you've been and what you've been up to.
“I mean, I love my dad and it's awesome he's finally talking to me again, but - I don't know, if it's not too much to ask, could you maybe just.. talk to him?” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, and her words broke your heart a little. It's cruel of him to try and reach out to you that way, put Charlie through that distress, but maybe you could've handled your last encounter with more care.
How could you say no to her?
“Yeah, i’ll talk to him, Charlie. Don't worry.” A yawn interrupted your sentence, but you still sent her a reassuring smile as she finally relaxed her shoulders.
“That’s great! I’ll just give him your number!” She planned outloud, turning away to head down the hall.
“Charlie- “ You called out, “He loves you, you know that, right? Don’t forget that.” Charlie’s smile drooped for a second, then quickly picked back up. She nodded as she left your view.
With a yawn, your body still not registering that you were awake or what you had agreed to, you went to shut your door. It didn't click like it usually does, so you turned to see the blockage - Alastor. He'd stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing entirely.
“Good morning, my dear!” his voice was booming, as he threw his arms out in a dramatic flare, your door swinging open.
Nope, you were too tired for this.
“Fuck, Al, can't this wait ‘til I'm at least dressed?” You tossed your blanket aside, rummaging through your drawers to cover the little silky tank top and pajama shorts you had borrowed from Angel during your first nights at the hotel. Maybe it was your sleep depravity, or just the fact that Alastor has made it a habit to be extra kind to you since you arrived, but you didn't mind him seeing you in sleepwear. He had no ill intent, as far as you knew.
“Unfortunately, it cannot! I heard you're going on a little outing with the king! How exciting~” He hummed, sitting at the edge of your bed as you cover yourself with your sweater. You plop down next to him, still wiping your eyes. He reached out, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek. Looking down at his hand, swiping your tears across his fingers, he met your suddenly embarrassed gaze.
“Another rough night, dear?” You weren't sure how he knew that's what that was from, but you nodded anyway.
“Just another nightmare, it's fine. They're always about Charlie and - the mistakes I made when I was taking care of her.. I guess it still kind of bugs me.” He let out a pitied hum, as he stood to turn your radio back on. He tuned it to some old timey jazz music before resting his hands behind his back. You didn't know it could play music..
“Well, it seems that meeting with that royal menace may not be the wisest choice. Wouldn't you agree?” You looked down before letting a sigh slip from your tired lips.
“It's fine, I can handle myself. Besides, he keeps bugging Charlie and I - I feel like I owe her..”
you shake your head, standing to your feet and beckoning Alastor out of your room.
“It's fine! It's just a quick visit, I won't be gone long.” He took your hand give it a quick kiss, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Well, if he does anything to hurt you, love -” love? “- I'll be right there to help.” He emphasized the end of his sentence with a quick tap on your nose before leaving your room. The music faded back into static as soon as he left.
You heard stories about their fight, plus you could hear their aggressive duet from your room that day, but you believed him either way. You had no doubt he could swoop in and save the day if you needed it. You wondered why people seemed so wary around him. He was a perfect gentleman to you, even with all the warnings you've gotten from Husk and Vaggie.
He had you wrapped around his finger.
You didn't think you would stress about what to wear. You hadn't even made plans yet, but all of sudden, you worried about what he would think of your clothes if he saw you. Charlie sent you his number, so it was on you to reach out. You ignored it for now. You’d ignore it forever if it would keep these feelings from resurfacing. Finally deciding on an outfit, just a black turtleneck that left your arms bare and a skirt that hugged your curves in a lovely way. Even if it probably wasn't the easiest skirt to bend over in, you decided it would do.
A lot of your clothes were hand me downs or were lent to you by either Angel, Vaggie or Charlie. None of it was truly your size, but you had no problem adding in some extra panels or cutting things to your liking. The sweater you grabbed previously was actually gifted to you by Alastor. You had no idea why he would give it to you, a simply red cardigan with a soft knit, but it quickly became your favorite accessory. Pulling up the collar, you buried your nose into the knitting, taking a soft breath in. It always smelled of whiskey and honey, no matter how often you washed it.
You went through your day like normal, followed along with some exercises Charlie was running and taking a quick trip to Cannibal Town with Alastor, something you did every now and then. It started off with him accompanying you to the bakery, where you would occasionally lend a hand, then he would split off to spend the afternoon with Rosie. As time went on, he would ask you to join him.. It was intimidating at first, but Rosie was nothing but a sweetheart, you had no problem fitting in with the two.
when you returned to the hotel, you finally mustered the courage to call Lucifer. With a quick pep-talk to yourself, you held your breath before bringing the phone to your ear. He picked up immediately.
“Hell- Erm.. uhh.. Shit, how do I -” Did he realize he answered the call?
“Helloo? Lucifer here - speaking! Who-who’s this..?” He knew who it was. You assumed this was just him trying to be casual. He wasn't very good at it.
“Lucifer - It’s me.. can we talk?” You were gripping the end of your sleeve nervously with your free hand.
“Yes! Yes, of course! When are you free? We can.. figure something out, right?” You could hear him tripping over himself, kicking things around, and something that sounded like a squeaky-toy being stepped on? His excitement made you giggle. Even with pulling your phone away to try and prevent your laughter coming through, he was losing his mind on the other end of the call. It felt like a nostalgic punch to the gut. He didn't realize how much he missed your laughter until now.
“I guess i’m free whenever.. Charlie doesn't like doing exercises on the weekend, so -” A breeze hit your face, blowing all your hair past your shoulders. Looking to the source, a golden edged portal had opened right in the middle of the hallway. A fidgeting Lucifer was standing with his hands behind his back, a nervous but excited looking grin across his face. You looked down to your phone, seeing the call was still going, then spotted his phone sitting on a table behind him. You let out the smallest huff, before hanging up and tucking your phone away.
“Missed me?” He said suavly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. God, you did. You couldn't admit that though. Your anger, guilt and nerves overshadowed any joy that he may have brought under different circumstances.
“Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to step towards the portal. He reached his hand out to you, and he noticed you hesitating. “it’s uh- it’s a little bit of a drop if you step through the - um.. just.. wanted to -” you took his hand that he almost retracted, and carefully stepped over the border of the portal. You tried to keep your mind from noticing how your hand perfectly fit in his.
Static filled your core as you left the hotel, but before you could turn and see if Alastor was nearby, the portal had shut and the static ceased.
If he does anything to hurt you, I'll be right there.
Alastor's words rung through your head one last time. You finally met Lucifer eyes after literal decades.
“Um.. Tea?” Lucifer was fiddling with his ring again. Years ago, it was something you noticed he did whenever he was nervous. You nodded and watched as he conjured up everything needed to brew hot tea.
“What, you don't use any of the servants for that? Not even some angelic magic?” Small talk felt like it could make this moment less awkward. As he poured the already heated water into two teacups, he simply shook his head.
“Angelic power is great and all, but nothin’ beats fresh tea.” His smile was so sweet. You nervously balled up the sleeve of your sweater into your hand and brought it to your nose, breathing in the same sent that always seemed to calm you.
“And.. I- ahem.. I ended up finding other places for most of the staff after..” he said it quietly, unable to call attention to his missing spouse. Definitely a touchy subject for both of you. You finally looked around, realizing you recognized the tea room. It was small, but was walled in entirely with windows. It had a great view of the little garden that used to be brimming with difigured, yet beautiful, greenery. You took another look around the room, the nostalgia wearing off, taking in the dust and trash that was collected in the corners. The garden had died off as well. It wasn't completely unslightly, but the mess didn't make sense for a royal manor.
His words finally hit you.
“Found other places? What does that even mean?” You could feel your blood boil, watching him place the tea bags in each cup. You calmed for a moment, seeing that his hands were shaking.
“I just found places for them to work, is all. Sent the stylists to that Velvette girl in Pentagram City, some of the cooks went down to the Glutton Ring, ya know. Stuff like that. I wanted them to be taken care of.” He passed the cup to you, then pulled out one of the two chairs at the small table sitting in the center of the room.
“I just wanted to take care of them..since, I-I couldn't do that for you..” His voice was low, and when you attempted to look at his face he would sip from his cup or turn away. Don't be worried about him. He doesn’t deserve that.  It was all so long ago, it doesn't matter. Remember why you're here. 
“Good for them. Now, I'm here because you're bugging Charlie. Stop asking about me idiot, she's gonna think something’s wrong.” You placed your half empty cup down. He choked on his drink at your words, not realizing that you had seen the poorly written texts that he was sending to Charlie.
“And nothing is wrong. Right?” Lucifer scratched the back of his neck nervously, then opened his mouth as if to say something. He didn't. He simply nodded at first. 
“Y-Yup, right.. Everything's fine. l'll stop asking about you.” You went to stand, brushing the wrinkles from your skirt off as you did. That's that. You came here to get Lucifer to stop bugging Charlie and that's what you did. There's no other reason for you to  -
“Wait, please..!” His hand took a hold of yours, as he almost stumbled out of his chair to keep you from walking off. “I just want to say - “
“ - no you don't have to. It was a long time ago. Everyone makes mistakes, right?” You tried your best to keep your cool, but clearly it wasn't working. He winced at your words, releasing his hold on you.
“I have no excuse. I can't make it all go away, I still feel - “ he clasped his hand to his chest, struggling to figure out what he's trying to say.
“I'm sorry. I don't need you to forgive me, but please know, that I am sorry.” The room went silent, with your back towards him, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your own heart. Lucifer didn't know what to do, until the silence was broken by a pathetic little sniffle.
Dammit, not again. Don't let him get to you. Keep your walls up.
He quickly approaches you, his hands hovering over your shoulder, as if you’d shatter if he touched you.
“Nono, please, I -uhh.. I'll leave Charlie alone! I'll stop talking to you, I'll leave you alone if -”
With a quick turn, finally faced him. Letting out a breath you'd been holding in for far too long, you rush towards him with the intent to meet him with a long overdue embrace. The sudden leap left him staggering backwards, tripping over nothing and bringing both of you to the floor. “Don't you dare! H-How could you.. why would think that's what I want..?” Your words were muffled into his shoulder, since he had placed a hand over your head to protect you from the fall. Not even acknowledging that you were suddenly sitting on the floor between his legs, he finally managed to process your words. It took him a moment to even try and reciprocate the hug. He hadn’t been touched like this for years, it nearly overwhelmed his senses.
“ I want to know what happened that night! I want to know how you feel, or I guess felt, about me.. I dont care if it hurts, please tell me the truth..” all of the questions you've been asking yourself for years suddenly spilled out.
You felt absolutely pathetic, relying on him to tell you everything okay. But fuck, you needed this. Even if you never talk to him again after this, you needed some kind of closure.
“Woah- that's uh.. that's alot to drop on guy.. Uhm…” It wasn't like he didn't want to admit what he was feeling. With the relationship he had with Lillith, he had just become accustomed to not talking about himself much. That being said, with one look Into your teary eyes, he was all yours. He carefully took your hands from around his waist and held them in his own. He gently traced his thumbs along the top of your hands, letting you calm down before he went on.
“I.. I think about you all the time, I always have. I don't know what I would've done differently that night, but I'd do anything to take it back. To fix it..” The sweet smile on his face barely made his words sound better.
“I don't understand, Lucifer.” Your voice was quiet, and cracked a bit when his name passed your lips. You saw him jolt slightly, hearing his own name through your sweet, yet saddened voice.
“Well, I guess..Li-Lillith and I-” You both winced at the mention of her name. “- we weren't what everyone expected of us. And you were one of the only demons to know that. She- ugh.. I don’t know she left without a word, without a note - I have no idea where she went.” You felt like you were getting let in on a secret that he had been keeping for years. And maybe that's exactly what was happening. Your face went pale, your head swaying slightly, Lucifer took a hold of your arms and helped you stand, guided you back to your seat.
“It's not because of me, is it?” You said quietly, as if Lillith was just around the corner, ready to scold the two of you. Again.
“No! No, geez, if it has anything to do with you, then I'm to blame. Don't worry.” He still smiled at you, his face becoming strained after grinning for so long, then placed a hand over yours.
“Don't worry? Yeah! That shouldn't be too hard.. you idiot.” You rolled your eyes, but didn't pull away at his touch.
“I'll get straight to the point then, if you think I'm such a clown -” you couldn't help but grin at his self deprecating humor, and he's so relieved to see your smile.
“With you being in Charlie's life again, I'd like to.. I don't know, clear the air? Try and patch things up..?” You went to deject the idea, but he went on before you could.
“I know it won't be easy, and it's okay if it doesn't work out. But we all used to have so much fun together.. I think right now, it could be good for Charlie, and me, to have someone like you around.. I want you back in my life.” His little spiel seemed scripted up until that last part. Your heart throbbed. You were known to always decline help from people, avoid handouts, but the rush you felt hearing Lucifer say he needs you, you were almost swooning.
“Besides, we've both grown up! Moved on-  Right? I have all of Hell to keep an eye on, and you've got your little boyfriend back at the hotel so -” You wasted no time in correcting him. The idea of him thinking you had moved on with another demon made you panic for some reason you would never admit to. Why did he think you had a boyfriend? Who would - 
“Al?? Oh no, it's not like that, I swear. He's just been a good friend to me since I went to the hotel, is all.” 
“Al, huh?” He grumbled, leaning back in his seat ans crossing his arms over his chest. The warmth he left on your hand was immediately missed.
“Alastor, you know. The.. um.. You met him.” You held the sleeve of your sweater to your nose again, allowing the sweet air into your lungs. Fuck, he couldnt take his eyes off of you. He never wanted to take his eyes off of you, again. You just looked so pure in your little sweater.
But, that sweater.. something seemed off about it to Lucifer. He could feel some strange energy emitting off of it. It didn't come off as dangerous, but it definitely left him feeling uneasy. Like a headache that's just barely there, suffocating his thoughts. He's felt that before. It clouded his actions and judgements during his fight with-
“Hey, uh.. Be careful around that deer guy, will you? He seems pretty intimidating. Not to me, of course, but you know. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” You leaned forward, with your elbows on the table, propping your chin up. “Are you jealous?”
“Wha-What?? Of course not, I'm the king of Hell, I obviously trump him in every aspect.” There it was. There was that cocky, little bundle of nerves you used to know all those years ago. Everything finally hit you with the lost time, seeing that side of him.
“Lucifer, I missed so much. I wanted to be there for her, for Charlie.. I know I was just a babysitter, but there was so much more I wanted to do, so many things I wish I could've seen with her. With you, too.” You placed your hand overtop of his, just as he did to you earlier. He obviously wasn't expecting the reciprocation, flinching slightly at your touch.
“I guess I get what you're saying.. about taking that day back? That maybe if I didnt attack you the way I did, that I could be there longer. But… I was in love, Lucifer.” He stifled any giggles at the idea that you considered that kiss an attack, but nothing mattered after what you had said. He immediately flushed in the face at your words.
“In love..?” He barely whispered the words, his eyes sparkling. He felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, a familiar one, but still one that he hadn't felt in years.
“Yeah.. hm, it would've happened sooner or later, I think. I think I would've done it at some later point, if it didnt happen then.. I guess I'm just glad I left before Charlie could remember me. It all worked out, so - I guess what i’m saying is - we can try. Let's try being friends, again.”
What a bittersweet resolution.
“Okay. I'd like that.” He was fighting off any unwanted feelings. Burying any ideas to just profess that he felt the same way, and that he still does. That he wants to pick back up right where you left off. That he barely kept the longing, of feeling your lips against his, at bay. No matter how hard that was, things were looking up. Don’t blow it, Lucifer.
You chatted for a little while longer. You told him about your struggles after you were fired, all your interactions in Cannibal Town, the good and bad, then your eventual arrival at the hotel. The conversation lightened a bit, as you told stories about Charlie, giving him a much needed update on how she was doing when she wasn't stressing about a visit from him. You went on, talking about the other residents that he didnt have a chance to interact with last time. Obviously, that part of the conversation went into heavy detail about Alastor and all his little gifts and kindness.
Before you noticed, Lucifer held the edges of his chair, his hands gripping tightly into the metal at every little sigh or giggle you'd make in reference to something Alastor did. He'd dismiss it as jealousy for now. But that didn't stop him from rerunning that one moment in his mind. The moment where he was holding you. Touching the small of your back, just like how he used to.
The way you stood so close to him, that he could wrap his slender arm completely around your waist, and the confidence in your dismissal of Luficer's general presence. It was commendable, no matter the subject, he loved seeing your more confident side. Your words still hurt. The topic eventually came up.
“Oh god, Lucifer! I'm so sorry, I almost forgot about that.. I didnt mean anything, that was completely rude of me to treat you like that. I felt something come over me, seeing your face again, I just - I don't know, it was probably just some repressed rage? I'm sorry.” He quickly waved his hands, offering you reassurance in your actions, admitting that he felt he deserved it after everything.
“Don't say that, I was out of line. What you did to me doesn't excuse my actions.” You admitted. Was forgiveness possible in this situation? He had pushed the possibility so far down in his mind that a mutual respect seemed like an unachievable goal. And any reciprocated feelings were merely a dream.
This felt like a dream.
You asked how he was. He didn't hear that question often, so he didn't really answer with fun stories or anything exciting. His mind went into autopilot after you left. And after Lillith left, a lot of memories seemed suppressed. You asked about Charlie. He was worried you'd do that.
“Well- She uh.. went through her whole teenage phase, you know, goth makeup, boyfriends, a bunch of stuff she grew out of. She spent more time with.. her m-mother, though.. as she got older. But hey! Here she is now, doing the whole hotel thing, I'm very proud of her.” He nodded, clearly ready to move off the topic. But you weren’t.
“She looked up to you, you know. A lot. Oh man, she would cry for you all the time, constantly try to get into your workshop - as cute as it was, I wasn't ready to chase her down all the time. And i’d say she still looks up to you, Lucifer. You inspired her, I can tell.” You swayed the backwash of your tea in your cup, the pot was emptied long ago. Looking up, you see a trembling smile then watch him exhale a shaky sigh.
“Thank you.” He said softly. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning towards him a bit, after placing your cup down with a small clink.
Stop, Don't do this again.
Things might be different this time, but it can only go wrong in some other way, you were sure of it. Still, he leaned in as well. As you got closer, ready to shut your eyes to the reality and just let your fantasies take over, he reeled back, cover his nose and mouth with his hand. You jumped back, clearly embarrassed. He wouldnt call attention to it, leaving you to wonder what went wrong, but the scent from the sweater. It was disgusting to him.
“O-Okay, good catch up. I should get going, I - umm.. I promised Charlie I'd help her with something, so..” That was a lie. But if you spent another moment in that room with him alone, you'd have no control over what happened next.
“Oh.. right. Here -” He rose from his chair and opened the portal back up, leading to the same hallway you were in before. Turning back to him as he approached you, neither of you really said goodbye. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. After an awkward exchange of trying to figure out if this should end with a handshake, a wave, a kiss - nope not that one. a kiss would be too much. But a hug?
Lucifer carefully placed his arms around you, encasing you close to his chest. He could feel your heart rate increase. The scent of your cardigan you wore overwhelmed him, but he refused to let go after feeling your arms lay comfortably around the back of his waist.
Good lord, this man hadn't gotten any in centuries. it took all of his strength to not trail his hands underneath that damned sweater and pull it off of you, feeling his way up your torso, sliding just the clawed tips of his fingers under your shirt until you - 
“Lucifer?” Your words were mumbled, your face pressed against his chest after he had tightened his grip.
“Hoof- sorry.” He quickly pulled away. You immediately missed the touch, but it was definitely for the best. For both of you.
“Well, Thanks for coming by.. you have my number..? Right! Call me whenever you want, I'm not busy-” Sure. The king of Hell wasn't busy. He just didn't want to admit that he’d drop anything he was doing if it meant hearing your voice. You nodded your head, taking a firm grip on his hand as you stepped carefully out of the portal and back into the hotel.
“I'll see you, Lucifer.” You said sweetly, he visibly melted at your words.
“I hope so.” With a quick wave, the portal cinched shut.
---
Alastor stood in the hallway, right where the portal had closed, greeting you with a stretched smile.
“Darling! How was your little visit? I wasn't expecting him to sweep you off your feet so soon, I hope it went well.” He approached you, tapping his microphone to the ground and leaning into you.
“You never called for me, I’m hoping he didn’t hurt you. Again.” His voice crackled and a high pitch ring made you cover your ears for a moment.
“No, Alastor, it was good! We're gonna try and work things out, see if we can be friends again. I think it went the best it could, if you ask me.” You hummed with a sense of confidence, strolling dwon the hall with Alastor following beside you. You didn't notice his eye twitch and his ears folding back at the mention of his full name. He was losing you.
“Just be careful, dear! We don’t want you to make any mistakes again, do we?” He had no idea what he was talking about. Right? You hadn’t told him anything.
“Well, it’s about time I run some of my errands. Let me know if I can be of service to you.” A signature greeting for you at this point, Alastor reaches for your hand and presses another kiss across your knuckles. He looks up at you the way he usually does, but he let his lips linger for just a moment longer. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he tilted your hand to place his nose against the sleeve of your gifted sweater, inhaling the scent and exhaling with a hum.
“R-right, I will. Thanks.” You pulled away from his grasp, his eyes suddenly shooting open. You pulled away from him. That hasn't happened before. He wasn't nervous, exactly. But he did disappear into his shadow, which darted down the hall in the blink of an eye, leaving you with nothing but innocent curiosity.
♡ ♡ ♡
To be continued! Stay Tuned ;)
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kckt88 · 2 months ago
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us IV
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Summary:
Y.N joins game night and Alicent discovers that she's going to have a grandchild, but not everyone is happy.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Mild Violence, Fluff, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V, Allusions to other Sexual Encounters, Childhood Memories.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 5835
A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood @miaajaade
Aemond glanced between Aegon and Daeron, his brow furrowing slightly. “Could we do this another night?” he asked, trying to avoid any disruption to his plans with Y.N.
Plans which consisted of them snuggling up on the sofa and watching a film whilst enjoying a takeout and then him taking her to bed and devouring her sweet cunt until she screamed his name, only then would he fuck her nice and slow, making her come around his cock.
Before his brothers could respond, Y.N. spoke up. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to change your plans because of me. I can go-” she said with a small smile.
Aemond cut her off quickly. “-No, you’re staying.”
Aegon, ever the cheerful instigator, immediately chimed in. “Hey, why doesn’t she join us? Could be fun.”
Y.N. hesitated. “If that’s okay with you guys-”
Daeron grinned. “The more, the merrier! Obviously, no drinking for you, though,” he teased, pointing to her belly with a wink.
Y.N. laughed and followed them to the table, where Aegon immediately started dealing the cards.
“Come on, Aemond, crack open the beers. I’m dying of thirst over here,” Aegon grumbled dramatically.
Rolling his eye, Aemond grabbed three beers, popping them open before passing them to his brothers.
He then handed Y.N. a carton of Capri Sun, and she cheered, “You remembered!”
Aemond blushed slightly. “I got a couple stashed in the fridge just in case after you said you were craving them. Oh, and a jar of pickles too.”
Aegon and Daeron immediately started laughing.
“Awww, aren’t you sweet,” Daeron teased.
“Shut up,” Aemond muttered, his cheeks still tinged with pink.
Aegon smirked, turning to Y.N. “You know how to play poker, right?”
“Of course,” she said confidently. “My grandfather taught me.”
They each settled in with their cards, the atmosphere light and playful.
After a few moments, Aegon glanced at Aemond with a mischievous grin. “So, when are you going to tell mother she’s going to have a grandchild?”
Aemond leaned back slightly in his chair, glancing at Y.N. “I was planning to tell her this weekend-if Y.N.’s okay with that.”
Y.N. nodded. “Yeah, it’s about time she knew she’s going to be a grandmother.”
Aemond looked relieved. “I’d like you to come with me when I tell her,” he added. “I know she’s met you before, but I think it would be better if you were with me.”
Before Y.N. could respond, Daeron muttered under his breath, “Just make sure Grandsire isn’t there.”
Aemond shot him a sharp look. “What did you say that for, you bloody moron?”
Y.N. raised a curious eyebrow. “Why?” she asked, sensing there was more to the story.
Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My grandsire isn’t exactly thrilled that my relationship with Alys is over. He’s worried it’ll mess up some business deals we have with Larys.”
“I thought Otto didn’t work for Targaryen Inc. anymore?” Y.N. asked, confused.
“He doesn’t. He was fired after Rhaenyra took over from our father,” Aemond explained. “But he thinks he can still run the company through me since I’m a partner.”
Y.N. snorted. “Sounds like someone has issues letting go.”
Aegon snickered. “Never a truer word spoken.”
“It’s a pain in the arse” muttered Aemond.
“Alright, alright, enough boring talk,” Aegon interrupted, clapping his hands. “What’s really important is what we’re having for dinner. I’m starving.”
Y.N. chuckled. “We were just about to order before you guys showed up.” She stood up with her cards still in hand, making sure no one peeked. “Aegon, what are you in the mood for?”
With a cheeky grin, Aegon replied, “Whatever you’re offering, darling.”
Aemond scowled, but Aegon ignored him and sauntered over to Y.N., leaning over to look at the menus with her.
As they scanned their options, Aemond’s eye never left them, watching his brother like a hawk.
Daeron noticed and nudged Aemond. “Chill out, bro. He’s just standing there.”
Aemond huffed. “Too close for my liking.”
“She’s pregnant with your baby. She’s not interested in Aegon,” Daeron reassured him, rolling his eyes.
Aemond hummed in agreement but still took a sip of his beer, his eye fixed on them until Y.N. and Aegon returned with a decision.
“Chinese,” Y.N. announced with a smile.
Daeron groaned. “We had Chinese last time we were here!”
Aegon shot back, “Yeah, but we didn’t get to finish it because Aemond kicked us out when Alys came over.”
Daeron sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, let’s just order. I’m starving too.”
Y.N. decided to write down everyone’s orders to keep it simple, and after about fifteen minutes, the Chinese food was successfully ordered.
Whilst they waited for the food they resumed their game and soon, Y.N. was laying her cards down on the table. “Royal flush.”
Aegon slammed his cards down in disbelief. “How the hell—?!”
Daeron burst out laughing, applauding her. “Impressive.”
Aemond grinned, proud and impressed. Aegon, not willing to admit defeat, demanded a rematch. “Another game! I’m not losing like that.”
Y.N. accepted the challenge, and as Daeron began dealing the cards, she stood up to get another drink.
On her way back, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Aemond’s lips. He blushed, his brothers noticing and immediately nudging each other with smirks.
Aegon chuckled under his breath. “You two are sickeningly cute.”
Daeron snickered. “Yeah, keep it up, and we might just need to get a bucket.”
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The night was filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, though it seemed Aegon was having the hardest time accepting defeat.
After losing yet another round of poker to Y.N., he threw his cards down dramatically, declaring, “You’re cheating! There’s no way you’re this good.”
Aemond rolled his eye, smirking. “Just because you’re terrible at poker doesn’t mean Y.N.’s cheating. If it wasn’t her, you’d be losing to me, and you know it.”
Aegon stuck his tongue out. “You lost to her too, you tool.”
“So what? At least I’m not throwing a tantrum over it.” Aemond’s tone was calm, but the grin on his face was clear provocation.
The Chinese food they had ordered arrived just in time to distract from the bickering, and it was quickly devoured. Aegon, true to form, kept trying to steal food off Y.N.’s plate.
“Try it again, and I’ll stab you with my fork,” Y.N. warned, her voice playful but with a hint of seriousness. “I don’t share food.”
Aegon pouted. “But I want one of your prawn toasts.”
“If you wanted prawn toast, you should’ve ordered your own,” Y.N. retorted, grinning at him as she guarded her plate.
Aegon huffed. “But you shared your onion bhajis with Aemond, and he didn’t order any!”
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her hand resting protectively over her food. “He’s the father of my child. Special privileges.”
Aegon rolled his eyes dramatically but relented, going back to his own food with a pout, much to everyone’s amusement.
After dinner, Y.N. decided to sit out the last round of poker, even though Aemond protested. “Leave the dishes. You don’t have to do that.”
But Y.N. insisted, washing up the dishes and tossing the takeout cartons, while the others finished their game. By the time she was done, Aemond had emerged victorious, as expected, while Aegon sulked.
“You two are definitely in on this together,” Aegon grumbled. “I’m sure you’re plotting against me, conspiring with one another-”
Daeron shook his head, laughing. “It’s a game of poker Aegon, not Game of Thrones”
As the night drew to a close, Aemond glanced at the time. “It’s getting late. You two should head out.”
Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity for innuendo, smirked. “Oh, got something else planned, do we?”
Before Aemond could respond, Y.N. cut in with a teasing grin. “Yes, actually, we do. And no, Aegon, you can’t watch.”
Daeron burst into laughter while Aegon held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But we should do this again soon. Next time, we should invite Helaena.”
Y.N. smiled, nodding in agreement. “That sounds fun. I’d love that.”
After bidding Aegon and Daeron goodnight, much to Aemond’s annoyance, Aegon insisted on giving Y.N. a hug before leaving.
She humoured him, but as soon as the door clicked shut, Aemond’s patience snapped, and he was pulling her into a passionate kiss.
“You drive me crazy,” Aemond murmured against her lips, his voice low and husky.
“Good,” Y.N. whispered back, a smile curving on her lips as she pressed forward and claimed his lips in another kiss.
Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips as Y.N’s tongue slid against his.
Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.
Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slotted himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.
Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his jeans.
“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.
“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.
“Oh, you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to his bed.
Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y.N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.
Gods, she tastes incredible.
Aemond loved performing oral sex on Y.N she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.
“Fuck,” squeaks Y.N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.
“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.
Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y.N to her peak.
Y.N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.
“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.
“M-More, please” gasps Y.N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.
Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
Aemond takes himself in hand and guides his hard cock to Y.N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give himself a moment.
Gods she was so wet and tight.
After pressing a gentle kiss to Y.N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.
“Oh-please Aemond-Harder-” whimpered Y.N.
Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and thrusts into Y.N harder, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.
Soon he was moving inside her with a series of sharp hard thrusts, as much as he wanted to fuck her into the mattress, he didn’t want to harm the baby.
Y.N moaned desperately, as she moved her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.
Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y.N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock a little deeper than before.
“Tell me how it feels-tell me how my cock feels” demands Aemond.
“It’s good, so good-yes-yes, right there”
Y.N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to thrust into her, the headboard banging against the wall.
“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y.N.
Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y.N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.
“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a snap of his hips.
Y.N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.
“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he thrusts into Y.N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.
After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y.N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.
“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.
“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y.N, her body shaking slightly.
Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.
He takes a finger to Y.N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.
Aemond laid down on the bed and pulled Y.N to him.
“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y.N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.
Y.N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.
“Good, because I plan to fuck you so many times tonight that you cannot walk tomorrow”.
 “Promises, promises” replied Y.N.
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Y.N stood in front of her wardrobe; frustration etched on her face as she rummaged through the sea of clothes. Every outfit she tried on felt wrong, and with every rejected option, her anxiety about seeing Alicent only grew.
Aemond, sitting calmly on the edge of her bed, watched with quiet amusement, his eye following her frantic movements.
"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice soft, trying to ease her stress.
Y.N shot him a look of disbelief, tugging at the hem of a dress she had just discarded. “Of course you’d say that”.
With a playful roll of his eye, Aemond slid off the bed and approached her wardrobe. “Fine, I’ll help,” he muttered, thumbing through the hangers thoughtfully.
After a moment, he pulled out a blue chiffon lace midi dress, holding it up for her approval. “Here. Try this.”
Y.N eyed it for a moment before slipping it on. She checked herself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric over her figure.
After a few moments of contemplation, she nodded, satisfied. “You’ve got good taste,” she admitted, finishing her hair and makeup before stepping into a pair of heels.
She turned to him. “What do you think?”
Aemond’s gaze softened as he looked at her, admiration clear in his eye. “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely, stepping closer to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
With that, they headed out, climbing into his car for the thirty-minute drive to his mother’s.
The entire ride, Y.N’s nerves churned. She had been to the manor many times and had met Alicent before, but this time felt different.
She squeezed Aemond’s hand, seeking comfort, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze in return, sensing her unease.
When they arrived at the grand Targaryen manor, Y.N took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. Hand in hand, they entered the house, greeted by Alicent’s warm smile.
Aemond’s mood darkened slightly as he spotted his grandsire, Otto Hightower, seated in the drawing room.
“Y.N, would you like a drink?” Alicent offered kindly, and Y.N gratefully accepted a glass of orange juice. Aemond declined any alcohol, as he was driving.
As they sat down at the table, the air was initially filled with polite conversation. Otto, however, quickly turned to Aemond with a thin smile. “So, how are things at Targaryen Inc.? Any updates?”
Aemond’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’d prefer not to discuss work right now,” he said coolly, making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for business talk.
Alicent, sensing the tension, turned her attention to Y.N. “It’s been a while since I last saw you. How have you been? What have you been working on lately?”
Y.N relaxed slightly, smiling as she answered. “I’ve been busy finishing a piece for the local museum. I’m almost done with it.”
Before she could elaborate, Otto cut in. “And what is it you do again?” His tone was laced with thinly veiled condescension.
Y.N remained composed. “I’m a restoration artist. I work primarily at Howlett’s Bookstore, but I do commissions for other places as well.”
“A bookstore?” Otto sneered.
“Yes,” Y.N replied evenly. “I restore old books.”
Otto looked unimpressed, but before he could say more, Alicent interjected with a curious smile. “That sounds fascinating. Restoring old books must be quite the delicate process.”
“It is,” Y.N agreed, relaxing a bit more. “It can be time-consuming, depending on the book's condition, but it’s incredibly rewarding when I see the final result.”
Aemond leaned in, his voice filled with pride. “She’s incredibly talented. I’ve seen photos of her work—she can bring even the most damaged pieces back to life.”
Alicent’s smile widened. “Do you restore jewellery as well?”
“I do,” Y.N nodded.
Alicent stood from the table, disappearing briefly before returning with a small box. “This brooch belonged to my mother, Alyrie. It was passed down to her by her grandmother, but over the years, it’s become discoloured.” She opened the box to reveal the intricate brooch. “I was wondering if you could restore it.”
Y.N took the box gently, studying the brooch. “I can restore it, no problem.”
Alicent looked relieved. “Thank you. I’ll pay you, of course.”
Y.N shook her head with a smile. “No need, I’m happy to do it.”
At that moment, Y.N nudged Aemond gently in the ribs, urging him.
Aemond cleared his throat, glancing between his mother and Y.N before blurting out, “Y.N is pregnant.”
Alicent blinked, clearly surprised but processing the news quickly. “Are you two getting married?” she asked, her gaze shifting between them.
“No,” Aemond replied, “but we’re committed to raising the baby together.”
Otto, however, looked scandalized. “It’s unacceptable,” he snapped. “A child born out of wedlock—this is disgraceful.”
Aemond’s jaw clenched, his patience thinning. “This isn’t the dark ages, grandsire. My child will still have the Targaryen name.”
“It won’t be a true Targaryen,” Otto shot back coldly.
Aemond’s anger flared. “Why not? The baby will have my blood and my name. A piece of paper won’t change that.”
“How could you have been so careless?” Otto demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Or did she get pregnant on purpose?” His gaze flicked dismissively to Y.N., who gasped in shock.
Aemond stood abruptly, furious. “Y.N. is no gold digger. We spent the night together, and we didn’t use precautions. It’s as simple as that.”
The argument escalated, Otto criticizing Aemond for ending his relationship with Alys, claiming it would jeopardize business ties with Larys Strong. The tension in the room mounted until Alicent finally intervened.
“While I’m not thrilled about the two of you not getting married,” Alicent said calmly, “I’m happy to welcome my first grandchild.”
Otto, still fuming, spat, “It’s unacceptable.”
Aemond glared at his grandsire. “It’s not your life. It’s mine. And my mother’s approval is the only one I care about.”
Turning to Alicent, Aemond softened. “I’m sorry, Mother, but we won’t be staying for dinner.”
He took Y.N.’s hand, and led her out of the manor, his anger still simmering as they left Otto behind.
As they left the Targaryen manor, Y.N. felt a heavy silence settle between her and Aemond. The argument with Otto had rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
The tension, the judgment—it all weighed heavily on her. She stared out the window of the car, her mind racing.
"Aemond-" she began quietly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, unsure. "Can you just take me home?"
Aemond glanced at her, concern evident in his expression. "Y.N., are you alright?" He reached for her hand, but she gently pulled away.
"I just-I need to be alone," she said, her voice faltering. "Please."
Aemond hesitated, the hurt flashing briefly in his eye, but he respected her request. He nodded silently and drove toward her flat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he fought the urge to push her for more.
He could feel the emotional distance growing between them, and it made him uneasy.
When they arrived, Y.N. unclipped her seatbelt hastily. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the door handle as if she wanted to say something, but the words never came.
Instead, she glanced at him with an apologetic expression. "Thank you for taking me home."
Before Aemond could reply, she slipped out of the car and hurried toward her building. Aemond watched her rush inside, his heart sinking as she disappeared from view.
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Aemond had spent the past week in a fog of frustration and anxiety, the silence from Y.N. gnawing at him like a wound that refused to heal.
His texts to her had gone unanswered, and every day without a reply made him question if he'd somehow lost her.
He considered going to her flat multiple times but ultimately decided against it, fearing that showing up unannounced might only push her further away.
Even his usual game night with Aegon and Daeron provided no relief—without Y.N. there and Helaena refusing to join, the nights were hollow.
His foul mood grew so unbearable that Aegon and Daeron eventually kicked him out of their flat, tired of his snapping and sourness.
The breaking point came when Aemond, still seething with anger at his grandsire, drove to his mother’s house to confront Otto.
The confrontation erupted into another fierce argument, with accusations flying until Aemond, overwhelmed with fury, punched a wall, splitting his knuckles open.
He hadn’t even felt the pain, only the burning rage that filled him. His mother, had gently cleaned and bandaged his hand afterwards, her touch soothing but her words even more so.
“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and ashamed.
Alicent had looked at him with that patient, understanding gaze. “I understand. What your grandsire said was unacceptable”
“I-I just don’t know what to do mother” whispered Aemond.
“You need to tell Y.N how you feel."
Aemond shook his head, his voice raw with uncertainty. “I’m in love with her, mother. But I’m terrified. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”
Alicent had smiled softly. “-I remember when Y.N first came here, Helaena had asked if she could bring a friend home from school-it wasn’t too long after you’d lost your eye, and you were worried what people would say about your scar-”
Aemond shuddered at the memory of being so scared and insecure, consistently hiding in his room, not wanting anyone to look at him.
“-It was Y.N who managed to get you out of your room” said Alicent softly.
Aemond remembered that day very well, he’d caught sight of Y.N in the gardens with Helaena.
The sound of her laughter and the mesmerized look on her face as a butterfly landed on her outstretched hand.
His sister had never brought a friend home before as everyone thought she was odd, and despite his insecurity, he found himself wanting to go outside.
He kept the left side of his face hidden as best he could, when Helaena introduced him to Y.N, but a sudden gust of wind had blown the hood from his head and exposed his scar to Y.N.
Aemond had rushed to cover his face, feeling absolutely mortified, but Y.N stopped him, she gently took his hand and told him not to hide, that his scar showed that he was brave.
“I was so grateful to her-” said Alicent smiling.
Aemond smiled back, of course Y.N became a regular visitor, having sleep overs with Helaena, and befriending Aegon and Daeron.
But his insecurity still loomed over him like a shadow and as he got older, he convinced himself that despite her gentle nature Y.N would never reciprocate his feelings and instead he pushed her away.
He was mean and unkind to her, but he rationalized his treatment of her due to the fact that she was so damn annoying, especially in their classes, hand in the air always eager to answer.
He simultaneously loved and hated that smug look she would get on her face when she bested him.
“-I always noticed that whenever she was here, your gaze would linger on her as if she was the only one in the room-” whispered Alicent.
“I was so horrible to her though-“ muttered Aemond.
“-Yes, you were, and I cursed your stupidity many times, for I could see how hopelessly in love with her you were-”
Aemond had leaned into his mother, placing his head on her shoulder, in a show of vulnerability.
“If anyone was going to have your child, I’m glad it’s Y.N but you should tell her how you feel, who knows, she could feel the same way-”
"I hope so," Aemond had whispered back.
Days later, as he worked out in his penthouse, trying to clear his mind, his phone buzzed with a message from Y.N. His heart leaped in his chest.
It was brief but enough to send his pulse racing: I’ve finished restoring your mother’s brooch. I’ll bring it by later.
Aemond had never showered so quickly in his life. He rushed to tidy the penthouse, making sure everything looked perfect before the knock on the door came.
When he opened it, there she was—standing there as beautiful as ever. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.
“Come in,” he said, his voice betraying how desperately he’d missed her.
Y.N. stepped inside, and there was an awkward tension between them, a mix of uncertainty and emotions that had built up over the week. She opened her bag and pulled out a small box, handing it to him.
“I hope she likes it,” she said quietly.
Aemond opened the box carefully, and his breath hitched. The brooch, once dull and discoloured, was now vibrant and radiant, as if it had just been made.
It was stunning. His mother would love it.
“This is incredible,” he whispered, placing the box down. “Thank you. My mother will be overjoyed.”
Y.N. nodded, her eyes flickering with emotion. Aemond noticed her hesitation and stepped closer, his worry mounting.
“I texted you,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I was worried. I didn’t want to show up unannounced and make things worse, but—”
“I’m sorry,” Y.N. interrupted, her voice trembling. “I just needed time to think.”
Aemond felt a pang of dread settle in his chest. His mind raced, preparing for the worst. Was she about to break things off?
Which in hindsight was odd as they weren’t officially dating. His heart pounded as he watched her eyes well with tears, bracing himself for the words he was terrified of hearing.
“W-What happened with your grandsire really upset me-,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “-b-but it was wrong of me to shut you out, it wasn’t your fault a-and I’ve really missed you this week-”
Aemond moved forward and pulled her in his arms, kissing her with a passion that made the world around them disappear.
“I missed you too” he breathed against her lips, kissing her again, happy to have her in his arms once more.
“What happened to your hand?”
“Oh-I had an argument with my grandsire and lost my temper” replied Aemond.
“Did you hit him?”
“No-I took my frustration out on a wall” said Aemond his breath hitching as Y.N took his bandaged hand and placed a kiss on the knuckles.
“M-My grandfather used to call it a healing kiss,” said Y.N  softly.
Their gazes locked and Aemond could feel his stomach churning, as Y.N leaned closer to him and kissed him, her hands sliding into his long hair.
“Can I?”
Aemond nodded and sighed as he felt her slowly unclasp his eyepatch, her thumb caressing his scarred cheek.
“Y.N-” muttered Aemond.
“You’ve always been beautiful” breathed Y.N as her lips met his.
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The next morning, as they laid in bed together, Aemond gently ran his hand over her stomach, smiling at the slight swell he could feel.
The thought of their baby growing there filled him with a sense of awe and excitement. They had another appointment with the midwives soon, and he was already counting down the days.
He wondered when they could start going baby shopping, His spare room had already been cleared out, a blank canvas ready to be transformed into a nursery for their little one.
He imagined what it might look like—crib, toys, soft colours—his heart warming at the thought.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table, and a quick glance told him he was late for work. But he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving the warmth of this bed, not today.
A rare day off was in order; he wanted to savour every moment with Y.N., who was still fast asleep beside him.
As he lay there, his thoughts wandered. When was the right time to tell her that he was in love with her? And more importantly did she feel the same?
Aemond knew that, for him, the feelings had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Y.N. had gotten under his skin in a way no one ever had.
With a small smile, he closed his eye again, intending to sleep a little longer, but when he woke up later, the bed beside him was empty.
His heart skipped a beat, and he called her name. No answer. Getting out of bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and sighed in relief when he found her in the kitchen, pacing as she talked on the phone.
She was wearing one of his shirts, and the sight of her in it drove him mad in the best way possible.
The top buttons were undone, offering a teasing glimpse of her breasts, and the hem barely grazed her bum, leaving him aching with desire.
How was it possible to want someone this much?
His thoughts were interrupted when she giggled, and he caught her saying Aegon’s name.
Aemond frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway, waiting for her to finish.
Why was she talking to his brother? After a few more moments, Y.N. hung up the phone, turning around to see Aemond glaring at her.
“Why were you on the phone with my brother?” Aemond demanded, the irritation clear in his voice.
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Because he’s also my friend.”
“Do you talk to him often?” Aemond’s question was laced with suspicion.
Y.N. shrugged casually. “We usually text every so often. He called because he was going to McDonald's and offered to bring me one at work, but I told him I was here with you-”
Aemond huffed in annoyance, his lips pressing into a pout. Y.N. grinned at him.
“You’re cute when you pout,” she teased.
“I do not pout,” Aemond muttered, his scowl deepening.
Y.N. laughed, stepping closer and rising onto her toes to press a kiss to his nose. “Yes, you do. You’re doing it now.”
He tried to maintain his scowl, but her teasing was infectious.
As Y.N. brushed past him on her way to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile, as she began to unbutton the shirt she wore.
“I’m off to take a shower. Care to join me?” said Y.N as she removed the shirt and threw it at him.
At the sight of her naked body, Aemond’s sour mood vanished in an instant, a smirk spreading across his face.
“Oh, hell yes-” exclaimed Aemond as he followed her eagerly, his thoughts now consumed by the love and desire that only she could ignite in him.
And gods be good, fucking Y.N in the shower as the hot water cascaded over them, was incredible, and most definitely the perfect way to start the day.
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Y.N. lay back on the midwife’s table, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Aemond sat beside her, his hand resting protectively over hers as the midwife pressed the doppler against her small but growing bump.
A few seconds passed in silence before the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, a rapid and steady rhythm that echoed like the most beautiful music. Y.N. smiled softly, her eyes misting with emotion as she turned to look at Aemond.
"I can't believe that’s our baby," Aemond whispered, his excitement barely contained.
The midwife smiled as she moved on to measure Y.N.’s bump, jotting down notes as she continued the checkup. She tested Y.N.'s urine, reassuring them both that everything was progressing beautifully.
“The baby’s growing nicely, but your iron levels are a bit low,” the midwife added. “Try to eat more iron-rich foods, and at your next appointment, we’ll test your blood again. If your levels are still low, we’ll prescribe some iron tablets.”
Y.N. nodded, making a mental note as they booked their next appointment for the 20-week scan.
As they were leaving, they began discussing whether they should find out the gender of the baby.
"I don’t really want to know," Y.N. admitted, glancing at Aemond. "As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all that matters to me."
Aemond, however, seemed to have a different opinion. “I’d like to know,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to make a start on the nursery, get everything ready.”
Y.N. came to an abrupt stop in the hallway, her eyes widening as his words sank in. “Wait-what did you just say?” she asked.
Aemond blinked, momentarily unsure if he’d said something wrong. “I, uh, cleaned out one of my spare rooms-I was thinking of turning it into a nursery.”
For a moment, Y.N. just stared at him, and Aemond’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he’d overstepped. But then, a wide smile broke across her face, and she reached up to kiss him softly.
“I love that,” she whispered against his lips.
“I just want everything to be perfect for our baby,” Aemond said, his relief evident in his voice.
Y.N. pulled back, her eyes gleaming with an idea. “What if-you find out the gender, and you do the nursery? Then, when it’s finished, you can surprise me with a sort of gender reveal.”
Aemond’s face lit up at the suggestion, a boyish excitement taking over. “That’s brilliant. I love it. Thank you for trusting me with that.”
Y.N. smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. “It’s your baby, too.”
With a renewed sense of joy, Aemond suggested, “Let’s go shopping. We can make a list of everything we need for the nursery.”
Y.N. nodded, her heart swelling with love and excitement. Together, they walked out of the clinic, ready to embrace this next chapter in their journey.
TBC
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