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lunasdream · 1 month ago

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baby i'm-a want you / jack abbot

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: jack abbot x f! reader

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: literally a story about one pining man who prefers to work the night shift until he doesn’t.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: implied age gap (10-15 years?), slight injuries, being drunk, talks of broken legs but not explicit

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇’𝓈 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ: i haven’t written anything in years and have not been on this blog for years omg! i am absolutely in love with the pitt and jack abbot, it’s not perfect but i hope you enjoy! <3 title comes from a bread song! okay bye!

𝒲𝒸: 3.4k

You actually loved where you worked–honestly you did. Most of the people were great (a few questionable characters, sure, but that's life), and having your cousin Mateo around the place felt less like a hospital and more like a second home. He thrived in the chaos of the ER, always buzzing with adrenaline, while you preferred the quieter corners as a clinical psychologist–less blood, more brain. It was a good balance. Still, you always told yourself one thing: as much as you cared about the hospital, you never wanted to come back unless it was for work. No visits, no check-ins, no surprise emergencies. Just you, your badge, and maybe—just maybe—a good cup of hospital tea if you got lucky.

What began as a carefree evening—a glittering blur of laughter, cocktails, and the kind of reckless joy only found on warm nights and crowded sidewalks–quickly devolved into an impromptu trip to the emergency room. You were both kind of inebriated, the haze of alcohol still clinging to your senses, dressed in clothes that belonged to a different kind of night–ones meant for dim lighting and loud music, not the cold scrutiny of a hospital corridor.

It wasn’t fate that intervened–just a cracked piece of sidewalk and the kind of bad luck that shows up without warning. One wrong step, a shift in balance, and your best friend hit the ground hard, clutching her ankle with the quiet disbelief of someone realizing the night had taken a turn you wouldn’t laugh about just yet. You tried to break her fall, but all you managed to do was cushion it—her weight crashing into you, the impact leaving scratches along your arms and hands as she landed against you with a sharp grunt.

“Fuck—we have to call an ambulance,” you said, panic and tequila swirling your voice.

She squinted up at you, mascara slightly smudged, pain masking her indignation.

“Please just call an Uber. I refuse to make a scene.”

As much as you wanted to spare her the embarrassment–and the inevitable bill–you knew an Uber wasn’t the answer, not unless you were willing to sit there, waiting for what felt like an eternity. So, with little choice, the ambulance became the only option left. Everything after that blurred into a haze—the blaring sirens of the ambulance echoing in your ears, drowning out everything else. Between the worry for your best friend and the fog of alcohol still lingering in your system, the ride to the hospital became a memory you could hardly grasp.

That ambulance ride felt like it would never end—comforting your friend, trying to keep it together while drunk, doing your best not to look suspicious. You even had to pretend the scratches on your arm didn’t hurt, like they weren't stinging the whole time. It might've been the hardest thing you’ve ever pulled off. By the time you got to the hospital, all you could do was hope no one made a big deal out of it.

As if on cue, the ambulance doors swung open, revealing Dr. Elis and Dr. Shen, standing in the cool, sterile light, their faces a study in practiced calm. With the precision of seasoned professionals, they held their ground, eyes scanning for any sign of chaos, ready to face whatever urgent situation was about to unfold. They almost didn't notice you because of how focused they were.

They faltered for just a moment, their minds clearly racing through the worst-case scenarios, until the paramedics spoke up—’suspected broken leg�� for your friend. That was enough to ground them, the weight of their tension lifting as they recalibrated, ready to handle whatever came next.

Ellis smirks, glancing over at you. ‘You know, you don’t have to break any legs to come see us,’ she remarks, while Shen immediately goes and helps your friend. He comments, “Hmm no bone sticking out, bummer.”

You giggle as she helps you down the ambulance, her knowing glance telling you she could tell you were drunk just by the way you stumbled down. You almost forgot about the cuts on your arm until she noticed, her fingers brushing over them gently, a soft reminder of what you’d almost ignored. She gave you a look that said, clear as day, ‘You really thought I wouldn’t notice’—half amused, half concerned, and totally calling you out without a single word.

A while later, you’re with your best friend—she’s a little out of it from the pain medication and you’re half-laying on the edge of her hospital bed, just grateful it was only a broken leg and nothing more serious. You’d sobered up by now—sleepy, a bit delirious, but still in good spirits. Mostly hungry, and for some reason, all you could think about were those raspberry cookies from the vending machine.

On the other side of the emergency room, word about you and your friend has quietly made the rounds—shared in hushed tones behind desks and passed along with knowing glances, as if the entire first floor was on something unspoken.

Although they’d never admit it, most people in the ED had a quiet appreciation for the drama that occasionally unfolded around them. Silly moments were something to look forward to—brief flashes of levity in a place that demanded strength, focus, and more patience than most people realized. The ED wasn’t for the faint of heart. And while the day shift kept things running like a well-practiced routine, the night shift operated in its own rhythm—slower, weirder, a little rough around the edges, but deeply loyal in their own way.

So you can imagine the quiet buzz of excitement when they saw you walk in—guided to a room by Dr. Ellis, dressed not in your usual work attire but in a fitted dress and delicate kitten heels that were clearly more designer than practical, looking every bit put-together even if you didn’t quite feel it. Your shifts usually landed in the middle of the day, often stretching a little later than scheduled—which meant you occasionally caught glimpses of both the day and night shift dynamics.

It was rare to be called down to the ED just for your help—usually they sent patients up to you.

The main reason you ever made your way down there was to see your cousin, even if it was just for a second.

You were well-liked around the hospital, having built a solid reputation for yourself. As a young psychologist—something of a prodigy in school—you stood out, not just for your skill but for your warmth. You treated your patients, colleagues, and everyone you meet with genuine kindness. Your smile brought a little light to the hospital's sterile halls, and your laugh had a way of softening even the toughest days. You loved chatting with coworkers, always curious about the little things that went on behind the scenes.

So of course it wasn’t much of a surprise that you crossed paths with Jack Abbot—the night shift attending—during your occasional visits to the ED. You found him endearing—his dry humor didn’t always land with others, but it never failed to make you smile. You’d given him that familiar look of quiet amusement, the kind that made it clear you were paying attention—and that you appreciated the way his mind worked.

You weren't naive—you knew you turned heads. You’re gorgeous and people naturally looked when you walked into a room. Over time, you’d gotten pretty good at spotting the signs—who had a crush, who was trying not to stare, who was just a little too obvious. You tried to brush off the lingering looks Abbot gave you—the way he subtly puffs out his chest or always angled his body toward you in conversation. It was obvious, in that quiet kind of way, that his attention was reserved just for you. But you ignored it, pretending not to notice, even when it was a little too obvious to miss. Bets were already placed—how long it would take before he finally worked up the courage to make a move—even if you were still “blissfully” unaware of just how much he was quietly pining.

He had been working on a patient who came in coughing with blood when you and your friend arrived in the ambulance. He didn’t have any clue that you were there. His attention was fully on the patient, determined to figure out what was causing the bleeding. Jack was always like that, laser-focused when it came to his work. Once he wrapped up, he’d head over to the nurses’ station to update the records.

As Abbot nears the station, a familiar laugh floats from one of the curtained rooms. He pauses, just for a second. It was probably nothing—his mind playing tricks—but the sound lingered in his mind a little longer than it should have.

“Seeing her drunk like that is making me feel jealous, like I should be out drinking with my friends,” Ellis says to Shen, who nods in agreement with a chuckle.

“I can’t drink like that anymore—I’d end up like her friend, but with both legs broken,” Shen says with a smirk.

“I don’t know what or who you're talking about,” Jack says, deadpan, as he begins typing up his reports. “But just know I could outdrink both of you any day.” Then, without looking up, he adds, “Now go check on the ambulance bay and save the gossip for the break room.”

Ellis and Shen share a quick look, their eyes filled with mischief , before they both grin and go on their merry way.

“I would love some chips and possibly a Pepsi,” your best friend says, batting her eyes at you. Despite the haziness from the pain meds, she definitely needed something greasy. You nod, slowly getting up from the hospital bed, stretching and lazily slipping your heels back on.

You clumsily move past the curtain, shuddering as the cold air hits you unexpectedly. The chill cuts through the warmth that's still lingering from the hospital bed, and you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself—only to hiss softly when your fingers graze the forgotten cuts along your arm. The sound of your heels tapping unevenly against the floor seems to echo in the halls as you try to find your footing, moving as quickly as you can toward the vending machines.

The sharp click-clack draws Jack’s attention as it echoes through the halls, cutting through the quiet like an unexpected disruption. When he finally looked up to see where the sound was coming from, he stilled. There you were. The familiar laugh he’d caught earlier suddenly made sense, and a quiet kind of relief settled in his chest—like his mind had not betrayed him after all. You were real, and even in this strange, fluorescent-lit setting, you looked like something pulled out of a dream.

He couldn't help the way his chest tightened a little when he saw you—dressed in a tight dress that made it clear you hadn't planned on ending your night here. You looked stunning, like always, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the small cuts on your arm. It didn't sit right with him, seeing something so carefully put together paired with signs of pain. You shouldn't have had to walk into a hospital looking like that—not like this.

Jack stands up before he even realizes he’s doing it—some mix of instinct and worry pushing him to his feet. He doesn’t call out, does not move toward you, just stays there quietly, hoping you'll look up and see him as you get closer.

You weren’t paying much attention—too focused on the vending machine and the snacks you and your friend had been daydreaming about. So when your heel caught on the floor, sending you stumbling forward, it felt almost inevitable. You grabbed the nearest thing—thankfully, the nurses’ station—catching yourself just in time.

Instead of embarrassment, a laugh escaped you. It was just that kind of night.

Jack had already moved, hands out just enough to steady you if you fell.

He didn’t find it amusing like you did.

With a glance at your shoes, he muttered dryly, “Are those hospital-approved footwear?”

Your eyes met his, a flicker of surprise crossing your face before you recovered with ease. “They just approved these, " you said with a light chuckle, lifting your foot slightly to show him. “You didn’t hear?”

His eyes traced for a second longer than necessary before the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely. “Must’ve missed the memo.”

All of a sudden, you feel a little exposed—standing in front of him in that dress, the chill setting in, and suddenly wishing you’d brought a jacket instead of relying on alcohol for warmth.

Jack notices, saying nothing, but stepping away for a moment. He returns with a blanket, handing it to you without a word.

You take it, wrapping it around yourself as you look up at him. “Thank you,” you say softly. And you mean it.

You start explaining what happened—how the night spiraled, how you and your friend ended up in the ambulance. You know he was curious, even if he hadn't asked. He listens closely, his eyes steady on yours, not judging, just quietly taking it all in. He seems to genuinely feel for your friend—broken bones were no easy feat, and he knew recovery would be painful and slow.

You make sure to mention that you’re fine—because you know Jack, and he always worries when it comes to his colleagues. You brush it off with a small shrug and a quick, “The cuts only hurt when I touch them,” trying to keep it light.

Jack immediately gives you a look, slipping into full doctor mode.

“Then maybe don’t touch them.” His tone is gentle, but just serious enough to earn a teasing eye-roll from you.

“Doctors, you’re all the same,” you mutter playfully, earning the smallest smirk.

“It’s in my blood.” he replies with a shrug, his tone light but somehow sincere.

You smile quietly, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. “It’s still hard getting used to that,” you say, your voice light, not really expecting a response but content with the easy moment.

“Anyways, I promised some snacks for my friend, so, I’ll see you around.” You start to turn, already heading towards the front.

“I’ll go with you,” Jack says, stepping forward without hesitation.

You stop and turn, surprised. “Oh, you don’t have to. Aren’t you working? Don’t you have patients?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He gives a small shrug, unfazed. “I’m taking a break. Besides, I could use a snack too.”

You feel your face go warm at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Well, if you insist,” you reply.

You both walk side by side in a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the hospital around you filling the space. You watch as the place moves in its own rhythm—nurses rushing to their station, doctors calling out to each other, and the steady hum of activity filling the air. There’s something oddly calming about it, despite the busy pace, and for a moment, everything feels just a little more relaxed.

You feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze lingering, but you don’t bother to meet his eyes. You don’t need to. The warmth in your cheeks says it all, and you’re not sure if you want to acknowledge it just yet. Instead, you focus on the path ahead, the familiar hospital light overhead, letting the quiet comfort of the walk keep things easy.

You get ready to reach for your phone, pulling it out to get your payment ready for the snacks, when suddenly, a hand goes past you, tapping his card on the device. “Would you look at that, I have tap too,” he says with a grin.

You glance up at him, a bit surprised, the playful glint in his eyes catches you off guard, and the tension between you both suddenly feels palpable, even in the otherwise busy hospital. “You didn’t have to do that,” you manage, your voice a little softer than you intended, trying to hide the slight warmth spreading in your chest.

“With the night you had, it's the least I can do. Consider it a donation from the hospital,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. There’s a flicker of something in his voice—warmth, intention—like the words meant more than they let on.

You glance at him, just briefly. “Well…in that case,” you say slowly, your voice playful but soft, “I’ll take a Pepsi too. It’s for my friend, obviously.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you crouch down to grab the snacks, his gaze lingering a second too long before he finally moves. Then he leans down beside you, slow and steady, careful to keep just enough distance—like he wasn’t hovering, but you could feel him there all the same. His presence was grounding, warm in a way that contrasted the energy of the hospital.

“Obviously,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to make your pulse tick up just slightly.

The moment passes like nothing happened—simple, easy—but the tension hums in the space between you, quiet and charged, like a spark left just barely untouched.

You’re back with your friend, sharing snacks and sipping on Pepsi like nothing happened—even though everything clearly did. You’re oddly quiet, staring off like you just came back from war…or a very specific kind of dream.

Your friend eyes you, chewing on a chip with the dramatic flair of someone who lives for the drama.

“What happened out there?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “You look all flushed and disoriented…Did the vending machine give you snacks and an orgasm?”

You shake your head slowly, still trying to process, cheeks warm as you mumble, “Worse…he paid for the snacks and the drink.”

“Oh my God, was it Abbot?!” she whispers like you just admitted to a crime.

“You don’t even work here how the fuck could you guess that?” you blink at her, caught completely off guard.

She grins, smug as hell. “Mateo tells me everything. I’ve been wondering when y’all were finally gonna do the dirty—honestly, I thought it would’ve happened by Christmas.”

You stare at her, deadpan. “We were at the vending machine for like five minutes.”

“Exactly,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Plenty of time.”

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over with the bag of chips crinkling in the process. It’s not even what she said—it’s how she said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You don’t even have a comeback, you’re laughing too hard to think straight.

Your laughter echoes just enough to catch the attention of the nurses passing by, a few glancing in with amused smiles. Ellis walks in and says, “Must be a good night in here,” and it only makes you laugh harder.

After Abbot escorted you back to your friend’s room, despite your attempts to wave him off, he suddenly got the call about an incoming patient in critical condition. With barely a moment to spare, he straightened up, professionalism settling back over him, but his eyes stayed on you just a moment longer than usual.

“I’ll be busy for a while,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of seriousness and something a little more teasing. “Find me if you’re still here. I’m sure I’ll be hard to miss.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he turned, already heading back into the chaos of the ER. There was something about the way he moved, so focused yet so casual around you. You’d still be here, waiting for your friend’s boyfriend to arrive. He was visiting family a couple of cities away, but he was on his way now to pick you both up.

Jack ended up being busier than expected, cases stacking one on top of the other, and you never got around to finding him—not that you could’ve, with your friend’s boyfriend showing up not long after. Honestly, you were a little grateful. You didn’t even want to unravel whatever “come find me” was supposed to mean. Did he just want to chat a little longer? Say a proper goodbye?

You weren’t sure, and you didn’t want to be sure. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you slumped into the backseat, craving your bed, your pillow, and the luxury of pretending the night never happened. Meanwhile, Jack couldn’t stop thinking about you—how incredibly good you looked despite the chaos. Some of the nurses’ bets about him finally cracking? Yeah, they were getting real close.

#the pitt #the pitt x reader #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader

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everythingisromant1c · 7 months ago

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p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?

a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33

full series - masterlist

You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.

Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.

After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.

Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.

Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.

Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.

You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.

"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."

"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.

"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."

The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."

You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.

Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.

"Bring Potter in?"

The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.

You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.

With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.

"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.

"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.

She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."

"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."

Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.

"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."

Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."

You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.

James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.

"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."

You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.

You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.

"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.

She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."

You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.

James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.

Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."

You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"

You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"

You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."

"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."

"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"

"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."

"You don't think I did that, do you?"

You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."

Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.

"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."

James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."

"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"

"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."

"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"

"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."

"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"

"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."

"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."

"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."

You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."

"I did."

He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."

"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."

You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."

He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.

Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."

That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.

You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.

"Cut!"

Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.

Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.

You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.

"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."

You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."

You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning?

You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?

Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.

"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."

"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.

When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.

Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.

"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.

"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."

"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"

Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."

You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"

"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."

You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.

The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.

"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."

"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."

"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."

The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.

But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.

But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.

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catsteeth · 4 months ago

Text

Turn Your Cloak - Pt. 3 (parts 1 and 2) FINALE

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x reader

+:✿ Request ✿:+

Request: “Humbly requesting Benjicot and Velaryon Fem Reader. Benjicot, ever the romantic, manages to attack and 💀 Aemond and as a gift, he brings reader (and by extension, rhaenyra and Jace) his head. Honestly I just need to see Benjicot turning into Bloody Ben and Reader matching his freak. Feel free to add whatever else you want (smut is welcomed but not required)” CW: MDNI, drunk sex, p in v sex, unprotected, afab reader, alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, canon typical violence, mention of death, war. A/N: You said smut welcomed and I threw a welcome home party.

Word Count: 11K

The threat of war loomed closer, and the tension in the air grew more and more with each passing day.

You grew so anxious you could not sit still. Pacing the floors of your chamber all day and night long.

You tried your hardest to find a solution that somehow no one had thought of yet. Perhaps if you thought long enough on it you’d find it. But of course, you couldn’t. The only solution you could find, and all the members of your mother's council could conjure was one.

War.

In a council meeting many months ago, you sat beside your betrothed as your mother heard the advice of the lords within her cabinet.

Lord Corlys had thought of a plan. Daemon would set out on Caraxes toward Harrenhal. His departure would be publicly announced to scatter all squatters who remained there during his absence. Aemond wanted Daemon dead more than any other of the Blacks. Should Daemon fall dead, all the lords who backed Rheanyra would turn their cloaks out of fear. So Lord Corlys would give Aemond the opportunity he wanted. But the real plot would be that Lord Corlys would lead a troop of men from Dragonstone to Harrenhall in secret as battles raged on in surrounding territories.

But they would not waste their occupation of the Riverlands. Whilst they would have men near the surrounding forestation of Harrenhal, they would have their troops scatter the Riverlands, while leaving Harrenhal seemingly unoccupied. They would wage brutal and vengeful battles across the Riverlands whilst they waited for any sign of Vhagar near Harrenhal.

Once Vhagar was seen, the troop would take advantage of the tree's coverage and use hooks, arrows, weighted nets, and catapults to bring the beast down. Reinforcement from Hugh and Ulf would be used to aid in the killing of Vhagar. Once it was done, Aemond would be executed for his crimes.

Without Vhagar and the Prince Consort, the Greens would be lost. King’s Landing and the realm would be in the hands of the rightful Queen Rheanyra.

The council decided it was their best option.

You wanted to volunteer your effort, volunteer your dragon. But, you remembered how Benjicot got onto his knees and begged you to simply consider otherwise. If he begged you to simply consider it, you didn’t want to know how he would react if you did enter battle. So you sat silently in the council chamber. Simply acknowledging that the plan was a good one and the best one you had.

So, your grandfather began gathering his best men for the troop. Many were of his own ship crew, many rivermen, many northern. But the one man who you cared for the most was Benjicot. He volunteered almost immediately once he had the chance to.

You weren’t thrilled with his choice you were nearly devastated. But, you remembered what he said to you.

“I’ll go to war. Kill every green I see. I’ll roar and rampage in the name of your revenge.” His eyes were wide, he was desperate, “I’ll bring Kings Landing to your feet.” He vowed to you, “I’ll never command you to do anything, never forbid you to do anything. I’ll give you my own sword to ride your beast into battle. But, I keep thinking of it. Being in battle and looking up to see you overhead on your beast. I am overcome with pride and admiration but should the greens shoot you down, or Vhagar prevails- I have to beg you selfishly. You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ve ever loved, the only one I’ll ever love. If you are harmed, or worse I will burn all of Westeros to its soil and me with it.”

You knew this was necessary for him. To protect you, to attempt to heal you. This was what he wanted, what he needed.

So reluctantly you sent him off to battle with a lock of your hair, your favor, and a kiss.

He was marching toward arrows, swords, blood, and fire and yet he was the happiest he’d ever been. He was not nervous, for he knew if he kept you in his heart he would prevail.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The days since Ben had left were long and torturous. Your only solace was his letters that he sent to you.

His letters were romantic and gentle. Each would detail little of the war, he didn’t want you to know all that he was doing. He feared it would scare you. But you found out through the reports of the troop's progression through the Riverlands. A complete opposite of his own letters.

Benjicot surprised everyone in the troop, especially your Grandsire. He wrote to your mother and her council of his brutality. The sounds of Ben’s war cry was comparable to a hysterical laugh. One that struck fear in his enemy. It was clear he had no fear in him as his unpredictable and brutal fighting. He alone had more confirmed deaths than the rest of his troop combined. He was often covered in a mixture of dry and fresh blood. His sword and his body never tired of bloodshed.

It was only in one letter that he did hint at his bloodlust. The last letter he wrote to you.

𝕸𝖞 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊,

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖆𝖘 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓. 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗, 𝕴 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝕴 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊 “𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖓”. 𝕴𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗. 𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖉, 𝕴 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕾𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖞 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊. 𝖀𝖓𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘.

𝕸𝖞 ��𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊. 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗. 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖈𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊. 𝕴 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖓𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖐𝖎𝖑𝖑, 𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖎𝖙. 𝕴𝖋 𝖓𝖔𝖙, 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.

𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖘𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖑𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕴 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕴𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘. 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉. 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖜 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖉𝖎𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉.

𝕴 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖎𝖙, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝕴 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗. 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴𝖋 𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖜𝖊’𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗, 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊. 𝕴𝖋 𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉, 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉.

𝕬𝖛𝖞 𝖏𝖔𝖗𝖗ā𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖓 (I love you)

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 & 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗,

𝕭𝖊𝖓𝖏𝖎𝖈𝖔𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

His words haunted you. His devotion touched you but his admission of his mortality shook you.

Since he had left things at Dragonstone became more and more complicated. The dragon seeds had made off with Seasmoke and Vermithor. Leaving your plan in a compromising position. As you sat at your mother's council table you ignored the words of the lords who sat around it with you. You toyed with your fingers as you were lost in thought of Ben. You interrupted whatever conversation was being had as you asked, “Any news of the Lord Corlys’s men?” You asked finally bringing your attention back to the council, “They’ve been making progress toward Harenhall, has there been any news in regards to Vhagar?” You clarified.

Your mother looked at you with sympathetic eyes and nodded to the maester. The maester looked to you, “Nothing concrete, Princess.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Rumors then?” You said picking apart his words confidently.

“Plenty.” He nodded, “Though it is not wise to heed to them.”

Before he could continue to speak of something else, you spoke again, “I am too young to be wise.”

The maester silently debated whether he should or should not tell you the truth. “Some of the men rumored it… Vhagar has been seen near Harenhall.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “This seems like a rumor to heed mind to!” You said as you sat up in your seat.

Your mother raised a hand to you to calm you, “Lord Corlys has not seen it. Nor has Benjicot, or I suspect he would have written such news to you.”

“Some soldiers report seeing merely an end of a tail, or the smell of dragon. The sleep-deprived and frightened mind can think up such things.” The maester said in an attempt to ease your mind though it did the opposite.

You scoffed, “Or perhaps these men have seen such things, perhaps they have smelt dragon.”

“We know nothing yet.” Your mother said dismissively. You knew she was blinded by her want to protect you and Jacaerys. But you also knew you were now their last hope at taking on Vhagar and preserving your plan.

“And yet we have too much to risk. Daemon’s dragon is just one.” You said nearly pleading for her to open her eyes, “You must let me ride out Mother.”

“No.” She said quickly with a dismissive shake of her head.

“Mother!” You nearly shouted, regaining her attention and silencing the rest of the men at that table. “We are out of options.” You said standing, “Send me to Daemon. Vaghar cannot take two dragons at once.” You placed your hands on the table and leaned towards her, “He has taken my brother, my grandmother, I will not let him take my husband.” You shook your head slowly and maintained your eye contact with her. “I won’t let him take victory.”

Rheanyra felt her eyes tearing up. She knew you were right but she couldn’t allow herself to admit it. “What then? You’ll fly out on Silverwing and face Vhagar as Arrax did?”

“Yes.” You nodded confidently, “Lucerys was not ready. Aemond took advantage of his youth and inexperience.” You looked at her with confident and strong eyes, “I am ready.” You said with a nod, “Without Vhagar, the Greens are lost. You cannot afford to lose Caraxies.” A silence hung in the air for a nearly uncomfortable time. The lords at the table did not dare offer their advice in either direction. They knew better than to come between a mother and daughter dragon. Soon, reluctantly and hesitantly Rhaenyra nodded though she immediately regretted it. “I’ll show you what loyalty looks like.” You said as you pushed yourself away from the table and marched out of the chamber doors.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Thousands of miles away, Benjicot sat at a table in a tavern within the Riverlands. He wrote on a piece of parchment, being sure to keep his words hidden from the drunken men around him. He was writing to you, of course.

“Oi, Bloody Ben!” A rowdy soldier called out toward Ben.

Ben folded the paper and shoved it into his shirt. He looked toward the man at the bar, “Aye?”

The man approached him with two women in his arms, “I’m paying,” He said with a drunken smile, “What say you? Which lass you take?” He asked as he looked over at the women with a lustful grin.

Ben huffed, “Fuck you.” He said with a tired scowl.

The man looked at Ben with an angry gaze, “The fucks your problem-”

Before the man could finish the strong hand of Lord Corlys took hold of the man’s shoulder. “The Lord of Ravenhall is a loyal man.” He said as he pushed the man away with a single shove. Lord Corlys looked toward Ben, “I respect that.” He then looked toward the barkeep “A round of brown ale for me and the Blackwood.” He commanded and the barkeep nodded.

Ben stood out of respect, “Lord Corlys-”

Lord Corlys did not pay attention to this, he simply raised a hand for Ben to sit as he sat across from him. “My granddaughter is restless in Dragonstone,” Ben said, immediately and completely consumed by his words. He had heard nothing of how you were. Only from the letters that you sent and he knew you would not tell him all of your worries. “She wonders and paces the halls waiting for ravens from you.”

Ben sighed with heartache, “I write every moment I am granted.” He wished he could have done more. He looked up to Lord Corlys, “Is she safe?” He asked with desperation.

“Of course.” He said quickly, “She worries for you endlessly.” He said as the ale was sat on their table and he began to drink.

“I wish she wouldn’t,” Ben said shaking his head, ignoring the ale.

“She has requested to ride out on Silverwing to relieve our troop's efforts,” Corlys said, somewhat curious as to how Ben would respond. Ben’s eyes widened for a moment as he looked at Corlys. “How does that make you feel?” He asked bringing the cup of ale back to his lips.

Ben thought for a moment, “I’ll never prevent her from what she wishes.” He then shook his head, “Though I wish she’d keep safe.”

“As do I,” Corlys said. He could see Ben’s anxiety through his words. “But Silverwing is a large and formidable beast.” He said trying to ease Ben’s anxieties, “Larger than Moon Dancer, Vermax, Syrax, Caraxies, Seasmoke, Maelys-”

“But not larger than Vhagar.” Ben interrupted. He was imagining his worst fears.

Corlys sat his cup down and leaned toward Ben, “Aemond is overly confident in his abilities. He is not as talented a rider as he claims.” Ben looked at Corlys taking in all his words, “Vhagar is too large a beast to hold a true hold of. It fights as an animal does.” He sat back in his seat, “My granddaughter has a true hold of her beast. She is a talented rider, and she is clever. Aemond is hardly clever.” He shook his head, “She will not run into a battle she won’t win simply because hotter blood prevailed over her better judgment.”

Ben sat in silence for a moment, “She’s mentioned nothing of flying out in our letters.” He was trying to brush off Lord Corlys's well-informed words for rumors.

“Well, she’s not been granted permission by the Queen.” Little did he know, you now did. “Though her council has been pushing her to. And armor has been made for her.” Ben felt his heart sink into his stomach, “She didn’t lie to you, just didn’t tell you. She probably wishes for you not to worry.”

Ben’s eyes fell onto the floor, then returned to Corlys. He had the same predatory gaze he had on the battlefield, “I’ll not allow a man to bring harm to her.” He said darkly.

Corlys sighed weakly, he could see the devotion he once had for his late wife in Ben’s eyes. Though he could even see that Ben’s devotion seemed even stronger. He knew if something were to happen to you, not even the Gods would be able to heal whatever damage Ben would bring. “We are men who love our family. But Believe me.” He warned, “You cannot stop what other men wish to do.” Ben knew of what Corlys spoke of. “And you cannot stop your wife from doing what she wishes to do. Our wives were born with fire in their hearts.”

“I know.” Ben nodded, “I love that fire, but it-”

“Infurates you.” Corlys said with experience, “I know.” He nodded with a smile. Finally, Corlys took hold of his cup of ale and stood, “My granddaughter cares for you deeply- loves you. Do not allow me to find you with a whore.” He said as he left Ben at the table.

“Never,” Ben said with a shake of his head.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben continued to worry for you just as you continued to worry for him.

You sent a letter to the Riverlands, to Ben’s encampment. You told him you would be flying out into battle. You had to be honest with him though you worried how it would affect him.

He would have appreciated it, though the letter never arrived.

Since you were enrolled in your mother's war, the battles in the Riverlands grew heavier.

In the Riverlands, Benjicot roared and rampaged with bloody satisfaction. Killing and slaughtering tens, of hundreds, of thousands of men. Laughing and enjoying each fatal swing of his sword.

In Dragonstone, Your armor was being readied, polished, and finely tuned. As you waited for the silversmiths to fit you into your armor, you sought out Silverwing.

The dragon keepers placed an armored saddle and chains onto Silverwing. As they did the weight of what you were flying into sank in. You may never see this home again, you may never fly on Silverwing again.

Your mother's eyes were filled with concern and sorrow. She did not wish to sacrifice another child for the crown. “Māzigon arlī naejot nyke. (Return to me safely.)” She spoke to you softly as she held your face in her hands.

She found the sight of you alone to bring pain. She could not bring herself to stop you, but could not stay any longer. She turned away, painfully and reluctantly.

You turned back to Silverwing. You smiled softly at the silver beast. Even if you died in battle, at least you died with her. Bonded for life and death. You ran your hand along her snout, “Īlon vīlībagon hēnkirī, uēpa riña. (We fight together, old girl.)” You said with a melancholy tone.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The Greens had brought more and more knights to the Riverlands.

Ben thought he had killed the last of them as he stood up from the battlefield covered in blood. He looked at the horizon as he saw more green banners coming their way. “Green cunts.” Benjicot swore through gritted teeth and lowered harsh eyes as he stared at the coming knights. “Kill them all!” He declared before raising his sword and running head-on into the frye.

As he ran in his sword diced through men like tallow, laughing and roaring all the while.

However, it was becoming clear that their troop was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Ben didn’t let up.

As he saw some black soldiers giving into exhaustion he grabbed hold of their collars pulled them up and threw them back into the battle.

Suddenly Ben’s bloody focus was disturbed. Benjicot could feel a pull of his heart. As though it were directing him to something.

His intuition would be proven correct when he heard a fellow man shout, “Dragon!”

The battle nearly fell silent. Eerie and still, as all looked above and saw the shadow of a large beast above the clouds.

The Greens and Blacks alike waited in anticipation and fear. Would this dragon be salvation or death?

As the dragon began descending towards the battlefield at an alarmingly fast pace, it was clear who it was.

“Silverwing Above!” A knight shouted, “It’s the Princess!” Another shouted.

All ducked and coward as you dived low near the ground, getting as close as you could to the battle while staying airborne.

Ben’s eyes instinctually found you in the sky. And as you flew past his eyes he saw you for a brief moment and yet he captured your image in enormous detail.

You on top of your armored beast flew forward clad in armor that gleamed like forged moonlight. The breastplate was a masterpiece of polished silver and steel, etched with ornate marine patterns and crowned with a three-headed dragon motif that seemed to radiate power and authority.

The pauldrons jutted backward, adorned with razor-edged fins that gave the appearance of wings. Jagged and sharp, they seemed designed to evoke intimidation as much as protection. Underneath your pauldrons and over your shoulders, a cape of fine, interwoven links of chainmail glinted with every movement. Its texture was as fluid as a stream, softening the harsh precision of the armor. The belt at your waist bore a fishtailed dragon.

The helm was a crowning glory, a sculptural marvel with its aerodynamic curves and horn-like crests that rose defiantly from the crown. Its silvered steel sculpted to mirror the fierce elegance of a dragon. Silverwing in fact, the Helmet was made to resemble the beast. The crown of the helm arched upward and backward into two long, curved horns that spiraled back like the crest and horns of the beast, Slender slits for the eyes hid your gaze, imbuing the figure with an aura of mystery and menace. Though your eyes were hardly visible, Ben could have sworn your eyes bore into his soul.

Along the sides of the helmet, delicate filigree hinted at the visage of the predatory beast, its essence captured in cold steel. With an aura of predatory grace. It was not merely a piece of armor—it was a testament to the bond between knight and beast, a symbol of the strength and majesty they shared. It was a statement, you were not a dragon seed but the dragon. The dragon to which each Green should fear.

The Greens scattered as Silverwing's nasally roar crackled through the air like thunder.

“Dracarys!” You commanded confidently.

Silverwing obeyed with no hesitation. Her flames enveloped hundreds of Greens within minutes.

Benjicot stood in amazement as he watched you. His eyes then looked onto the carnage that you brought. The bodies had turned in ash and clay just before his own eyes. Ben let out another laugh as he began swinging his sword again.

“Your princess has joined you in battle!” Ben shouted with pride and adoration as he motivated the men, “Any man who lets her down dies by my hand!” He shouted once more before diving back into the frye.

You heard a familiar screeching roar.

As you looked over your shoulder you saw Caraxiess. With Daemon, your stepfather atop of him.

You knew now was the time to follow your plan.

“Ruaragon. (Hide)” You commanded. Silverwing dodged any of Vhagars attempted assaults as she flew up into the clouds. She took advantage of the thickest clouds, blending into the grey and silvers of them. Silverwing was a talkative dragon. She often purred or chirped as she flew, but never when she hid. It was a trick you had taught Silverwing for battle. She was a breeding dragon, not fighting class. Or so that’s what the dragon keepers told you. So you took it upon yourself to teach her.

You looked down beneath the clouds to see Vhagar. Finally, you thought. You felt the anger rise in your stomach. “Nābēmagon. (Attack)” You said with some hesitation.

Silverwing dove rapidly through the clouds and flew over the head of Vhagar. As she circled back you could see the shocked expression on Aemonds face.

Silverwing’s jaws clamped down onto the wing of Vhagar. Tearing her already damaged wings.

Vhagar roared and attempted to spew fire at you and Silverwing.

It made Ben gasp, and nearly lose his focus, but you managed to dodge the attack immediately.

You watch as Caraxes took hold of Vhagars throat, but it wasn’t enough to kill the large beast.

As you circled back once more, you knew you had only one option, “Jikagon syt se ȳrgos! (Go for the neck!)” You shouted,

Silverwing’s jaw clamped onto Vhagar’s throat. Hot blood poured out of its wounds and fell upon the soldiers below. Burning them, greens and blacks alike.

You held on as tightly as you could to your saddle as Silverwing’s talons clawed at the sternum of Vhagar, piercing its heart.

As Vhagar fell limp in Silverwing’s jaws, she released its lifeless body. As did Caraxes.

You and Daemon watched as Vhagar’s body fell into the lake below.

You breathed heavily and petted Silverwings scales as she breathed exhaustedly. “Gīda, gīda riña... Sȳrī gaomagon. (Steady, steady girl… Well done.)” You praised her as she flew on, taking in the sudden peace.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

What you nor Daemon saw was that Aemond did not perish in the fall.

Vhagars body met the water before Aemond. He has untethered himself to Vhagar and swam to the shore quickly.

The only person to have noticed through all the chaos was Ben.

He chuckled to himself as he followed after him. He wasn’t going to allow him to survive.

He killed thousands of greens, thousands of men just to fill the hole that Aemond left in you. He couldn’t let the man who brought such pain to you and your family live.

Benjicot went into the forest after Aemond. He walked for what seemed like hours into the surrounding woods. Soon however he found what he was looking for.

A mournful Aemond sitting by a small stream.

Aemond looked over his shoulder to see Ben standing there. Looking at him with the eyes of a predator. “You found me,” Aemond said tiredly, slightly irritated, and without fear.

Benjicot remained silent for a nearly uncomfortable amount of time. Just staring at the man with dark and low eyes. “Do you know who I am?“ Ben finally spoke. His mind was running rampant with ideas of how he would draw as much pain out of the arrogant one-eyed prince.

Aemond’s eye trained over Ben’s face as though he were looking through him. It didn’t take much to figure out who he was. Ben was covered in blood, more blood than any other knight on the battlefield. “You are betrothed to my bastard niece.”

Ben took steps closer to Aemond, his eyes low. Staring at him as if he were a wolf spotting prey. “I am betrothed to the Princess of Dragonstone.” His voice was harsh and deep.

“Another whore of Dragonstone,” Aemond spoke cooly and calmly. His words sent hot rage through Ben’s already scolding hot blood. His eyes did not lighten, they remained dark and hateful. “An exciting prospect for a lord of a small and meaningless house I would wager. A chance at power.” Aemond stood on his tired legs and turned to Benjicot. “All you have to do is marry a bastard.”

Ben’s expression didn’t shift, stayed as hard as it was before. “You took something from her.” He said as his grip on his sword tightened. Aemond noticed the blood-covered sword in his hand. “Something you can’t give back.”

His eye went from the sword in Ben’s hand to Ben’s dangerous gaze. “Is that why you’re here? You want to prove your worth to an illegitimate half-breed?” Aemond’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“I’m not proving anything.” Ben shook his head slowly, “I want you dead because I have seen the pain you’ve brought to her.” He took a few more steps forward, biting his tongue out of anger, “And your words do not serve you well.”

Aemond smirked slightly, “I am the prince, son of Viserys Targaryen.” He said as he withdrew his sword, making Ben grasp his tighter and move into a defensive stance. “I care nothing of that bastard's pain.”

Ben chuckled lowly, “You are no true prince. Craven cunt.” His laugh faded and his eyes returned to bloodlust, “I want you for myself.”

“Craven cunt?” Aemond questioned, “And yet- you fight for a bastard’s cunt.” Aemond said with amusement.

With his vulgar remark toward you and your sex, Ben raised his sword toward him. Sneering at Aemond as he did so.

The clash of steel echoed across the forest, punctuated by the sharp hiss of labored breaths. Ben’s bloody longsword flashed in the dim light, arcing through the misty air toward Aemond Targaryen, who met the blow with the cold precision of one who had honed his craft to a deadly art. Sparks leaped as their blades met, the force of the collision reverberating through their arms.

Ben pressed forward, his strikes wild, unpredictable, but purposeful, fueled by the searing fire of grief and vengeance. His footwork was aggressive, his movements as much a storm as the one that had claimed Lucerys Velaryon.

Aemond moved like a shadow, his single eye gleaming with cruel calculation. His swordsmanship was a thing of grace and cruelty combined—every parry and riposte was a lesson in control. He danced around Ben’s fury, exploiting the openings left by raw emotion, testing him with feints and punishing counters.

The fight churned across the uneven ground, boots kicking up loose soil and grass. Ben’s blade grazed Aemond’s shoulder, tearing fabric and drawing a thin line of crimson. “That’s for her tears,” Ben said.

Aemond retaliated in kind, his blade carving through the air toward Ben’s ribs. Ben twisted away, barely avoiding the fatal blow, his chainmail ringing out as the sword glanced off it.

They circled each other like wolves, each looking for the moment of weakness that would tip the scales. Ben feinted a low swing, then brought his blade upward in a desperate arc. Aemond was faster, stepping to the side and slashing at Ben’s thigh. The blow struck true, and Ben faltered, a growl of pain escaping him as blood darkened his leg.

But Ben did not stop.

Ben lunged with renewed ferocity, his sword crashing into Aemond’s with such force that both men staggered. The Targaryen’s smirk twisted into a grimace as he was driven back, his boots skidding on the wet grass. Ben pressed the attack, his movements now fueled by sheer willpower, his injured leg threatening to buckle with each step.

Aemond stepped inside Ben’s guard, their swords locking, the screech of steel-on-steel cutting through the air. Aemond twisted, forcing Ben’s blade aside, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to be still.

Then Ben’s superior strength prevailed as he pivoted, his off-hand clutching a dagger pulled from his belt. “For her heartache,” Ben said through gritted teeth as the blade darted upward toward Aemond’s neck, narrowly missing the prince’s jugular. The blade was lodged halfway up into Aemonds jaw nearly piercing into his mouth.

As he pulled away Aemond retaliated with a savage thrust, his sword piercing through Ben’s side, the blade slick with blood as it withdrew. “For my annoyance,” Aemond said, blood trickling out of his mouth.

Aemond grasped the underside of his jaw, attempting to stop the heavy bleeding of his wound.

Ben dropped to one knee, his vision swimming, but his gaze locked onto Aemond’s. Even in defeat, his eyes were defiant, a refusal to let his fury die with him.

To Aemond’s surprise, Ben stood again. He fought with all his might, with all his love.

The two men stood in silence, both equally damaged. Breathing heavily, in an attempt to regain whatever energy they could.

All that could be heard was the sounds of the small stream flowing down the hillside.

Ben’s eyes looked at Aemond, filled with anger and vengeance. “Come at me,” Ben hissed, raising his sword at Aemond once more, “With everything you have.” He sneered, his voice was wavering, but it was still deep and harsh.

Aemond smirked despite the blood pouring from his neck, a grim mask of arrogance and malice. He steadied himself, raising his sword once more, but his movements were slower now, his footing less sure. Ben noticed the subtle shifts in his opponent’s stance, the faint tremor in his grip. Aemond was faltering, even if he refused to admit it.

Ben's injured leg screamed in protest as he stepped forward, forcing himself to ignore the pain. "I said come at me!" he growled, his voice carrying over the rush of the nearby stream.

Aemond lunged, his blade flashing toward Ben’s chest. But this time, Ben was ready. He sidestepped, using the momentum of his dodge to pivot behind Aemond. Before the prince could recover, Ben swung his longsword in a brutal arc, the edge slicing across Aemond's back. Aemond cried out, his voice a mix of fury and pain, as he staggered forward, blood soaking his tunic.

Ben didn’t let up. He closed the distance, his sword coming down in a powerful overhead strike. Aemond raised his blade to block, but his strength was waning. The clash of steel reverberated again, but this time, Ben’s strike forced Aemond’s sword from his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.

Aemond fell to his knees, his breaths ragged, blood dripping from his wounds. His single eye glared up at Ben, defiant to the last. "Do it, then," he spat, his voice hoarse. "Prove yourself."

Ben’s chest heaved as he stood over Aemond, his sword poised to strike. For a moment vengeance—pressed down on him.

“For my wife,” Ben whispered. With a swift, decisive motion, he drove his sword into Aemond’s chest, the blade piercing through armor, flesh, and bone. Aemond gasped, his defiance crumbling into shock as his body went limp and fell to the soft ground.

Ben pulled the sword free, the weight of his vengeance lifting slightly but leaving behind a hollowness he couldn’t yet name. Aemond collapsed to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him.

But, once more, fury ran through his blood.

Ben swung his sword down once more onto Aemond’s neck. Decapitating the one-eyed prince.

Ben staggered back, dropping to one knee as the exhaustion and pain overcame him. He pressed a hand to his side, feeling the sticky warmth of his blood. But he was alive. Against all odds, he had survived.

The stream whispered in the silence that followed, carrying away the echoes of their battle. Ben lifted his gaze to the sky.

In the distance, Ben would hear Silverwing’s nasally chirping. He smiled softly, and then, with the last of his strength, he rose to his feet, grabbed Aemond’s head by his long silver head, and began the walk back to the encampment.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Meanwhile, the war had come to a halt. Greens were lost, and the Blacks had prevailed.

While men combed the fields for their dead, you combed with them in a desperate attempt to find Ben.

“If he’s not here, are we to believe he coward away?” Daemon asked Lord Corlys as the men continued their search.

“He’d never do such a thing!” You said defensively. “Ben has never proven to be craven.”

“Then where is he?” Daemon questioned pointedly.

“We better direct our attention to Aemond.” Lord Corlys said.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about such a thing. All you could care about was Ben. “Where is he?” Corlys continued.

“At the bottom of the lake with the ugly beast.” Daemon with an irritated sigh.

“Or perhaps they are both closer than we think,” Corlys said as he looked across the field.

Confused you turned to see what Corlys saw.

That's when you saw it. Ben, was bloodied and sweaty. His hand clinging to his wounded side. His other hand, dragging along the severed head of Aemond Targaryen.

You turned around to see him stumbling weakening across the battletorn field. “Ben?” You asked as though you couldn’t believe your eyes. Pure disbelief.

“Fire,” Ben said painfully and exhausted but he’d never felt such relief to see you alive.

His words verified that you were not seeing a vision, but he was real, “Ben-” You said as you began running toward him.

“I’m bloodied-” Ben said, not wanting to frighten you.

You shook your head as you continued running toward him, “I like you bloodied-” You wrapped your arms around his neck and began kissing his bloodied cheeks frantically. You’d never been so happy, “The Gods are real!” You said with a smile as you held his tired and bloody face in your hands.

Ben’s dirty and bloody hands held your face in return, “Let me look at you-” Ben said, his eyes heavy and his voice hoarse. He took in the vision of you. Shiny and chrome, dangerous and graceful, a warrior and a princess. “I have waited so long to look at you.” He said before wincing in pain,

You looked down at Ben’s wounds. “You’re hurt.” You said. Though the blood that was his and the blood that was not was hard to distinguish between, It was a foolishly late realization.

Ben smiled weakly at you, his eyes still soaking in the sight of you, “I can’t bring myself to care right now.” He said despite beginning to collapse to the ground. His body gave in to the pain and blood loss.

You pointed to a squire, “You- Get the maester!” You demanded. You dropped to the soil, holding Ben closely. You ran your hand through his dark hair, attempting to keep him awake, “I’m not leaving you.”

Ben still had a smile on his face as his eyes finally shut.

As he did, your heart pounded, your tears welled and fell from your eyes. And Silverwing let out a roar so loud it shattered every window left in Harrenhal.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben was taken to the Maesters in Harrenhal.

You lay there beside Benjicot as he lay there motionless and wheezing. You held his hand as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. Desperate for him to make a noise, any kind of sound at all besides the sounds of labored breathing.

You washed his exposed skin with a rag soaked in warm water. You were sure to speak to him, read to him, and you even sang to him. He always loved to hear you sing to yourself, you caught him eavesdropping on you many times.

It was memories like that that made you hold out hope for him.

Finally, one day, as you laid cuddled into his side. Your hand resting on his chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath. You heard a sound, “Mmm..” Ben finally let out a noise as his eyes began to flutter open.

You looked up at him, then finally sat up and held his face, “I’m here, I’m right here. I will be right here.” You said as if you were cooing a child.

Ben’s eyes finally steadied, he looked at you with longing eyes, “You flew.” He spoke weakly.

You exhaled sharply, and shook your head “I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and looked down in shame, “I know you did not want for me to see battle, but I could not sit by while you faced Vhagar alone.” You stammered.

He squeezed your hand tightly, “You’re the bravest woman I have ever met.” You finally looked back to him, “I’ve missed you.” “When I saw you in that sky I thought I’d died, gone to the heavens.”

“You nearly did.” You said placing a gentle hand on his bandaged side, “We’ve been here for a day and a night.” He took notice of how you said ‘we’, and he placed a hand on your cheek. You looked at him, your eyes inspected his face. His eyes looked nothing like the man you saw two days ago carrying your uncle's head. “You killed Aemond.” You said with a strange lightness, your eyes lighting up and the corners of your mouth threatening to lift into a smile as you thought of his head Ben carried.

Ben however didn’t hide his pleasure. The corner of his mouth pulled to a smirk as he spoke, “I never promise things I can’t keep.”

You felt adornment rush through your body, making you smile as you looked at him. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve missed you so.”

You kissed his lips, the first kiss you’d shared since he departed. Ben’s lips were hungry, wanting more and more of you.

You stifled a giggle as you lifted off of him and got off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked, almost whining. You looked back at him as you walked toward the pot hanging on top of the flames in the fireplace.

“Nowhere,” You said as you poured a bowl of stew you had ready for this very moment, “You must eat.” As you sat by his bedside once again, you said, “We need you well-rested for your trip home.” Holding a spoonful of the stew to his lips. To which he gladly ate after days of nothing but war.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You stayed with Benjicot in Harrenhal until he was well enough for the ship to return to Dragonstone. Never leaving his side.

By the time you had returned, the war was fought and won. It was easy enough without Vhagar and Aemond.

When you stepped foot on the island you could hear the voice of your mother calling out to you.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother called out, looking at you as if you might be a mirage, “(Y/N)!” Rhaenyra shouted as she saw you approaching. She rushed toward you.

Your mother tightly wrapped her arms around you, “I am fine.” You said trying to calm her.

“Your grace,” Benjicot said, redirecting Rhaenyra’s attention. “The realm is yours.” He said with a stern demeanor that spoke of devotion.

As he spoke, a squire held out a wooden chest. Rhaenyra looked at it curiously, “What is this?” She asked approaching it.

“I have brought you Aemond Targaryen,” Ben said, in some way attempting to warn her.

Rhaenyra looked at Ben with suspicious eyes.

As she opened the box, her expression seemed stone-like.

She looked at the sight with a mix of emotions. All of which were sudden and overwhelming. As she looked upon the brutality before her, the memory of her son, Lucerys, rose unbidden—his laughter, his earnest eyes, the boyish joy he had brought to a mother’s weary heart. And then the vision shifted, darkened, to that fateful day when Arrax had fallen, torn asunder in the stormy skies over Storm’s End. A part of her whispered that she should rejoice. Her son's death was avenged. Aemond’s dragonfire was extinguished, and with it, one of her bitterest enemies. But Rhaenyra found no solace in vengeance.

Her voice cracked, raw with grief and fury. “Aemond’s death is but a hollow victory. Blood spilled for blood, and still, the price is never paid in full.” Rhaenyra gathered herself quickly. “You have served me and the realm well. Done for us an invaluable service.” She spoke to the two of you. Trying her best to sound as enthusiastic as she could. But for Rhaenyra, there was no justice in it. Only a strange hollowness.

Rhaenyra closed the chest.

She turned to you with a somber smile, holding you by your shoulders, finding her true victory in the sight of her child safe and alive. The queen would feel her emotions coming onto her again. So she smiled once more at her daughter before taking her leave inside the castle.

Jacaerys walked toward the chest, opening it once more for a brief moment before shutting it. Aemond’s face and sapphire eye were engraved into Jacaery’s mind. And now, it was before him once more, lifeless and still. He felt a dark satisfaction unfurl in his chest, a cold flame that burned brighter with every heartbeat. He then stepped toward Benjicot, “A grizzly display of loyalty.” He said with a stoic tone. Jace then nodded, “But a display nonetheless.”

Jace gave Ben a firm nod, a bow of his head, before he too followed after his mother.

Ben looked at you, and you smiled at him.

You took Ben’s arm under your own, guiding him into the Castle and allowing him to lean on you. “I believe he accepts you.” You spoke softly to him with a girlish smile

Ben stifled a chuckle through his nose, “I only want him to know my intentions with you are honest.” He said with a sweetness unbefitting of a brutal warrior as he.

You huffed as you and he passed the threshold of the castle, “You needn’t prove anything.” You said defensively in his honor.

As you guided him to his chamber you looked at his tired and weakened body. It made you feel an even more tender adoration for him.

Once you had arrived at his chamber door, Ben was hesitant to go in and rest. He stood there refusing to let go of your hand. You smiled as you looked at him and sighed, “You must rest.” You said softly as you ran your fingertips through his hair lightly.

Ben shook his head, “My body might be fucked but my eyes are not. I have waited too long to be with you.” He was always stubborn.

You looked down the hall to see if anyone was there, when you saw you were alone you pulled Ben in close and kissed his lips. He was again- hesitant to let go, trying to taste as much of you as he could. “Rest.” You insisted, pushing his back playfully. “You must be well enough. Do not forget to have a wedding to attend in a fortnight.” You said before slipping from his grasp.

Ben watched as you walked down the hall. Smirking, he bit his lip as you looked back at him once more.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben did indeed rest and was well come that fortnight.

The wedding would be remembered by all who attended.

The skies above Driftmark were streaked with hues of fiery red and deep violet as the sun descended, bathing High Tide in a glow as resplendent as the day’s occasion. It was a union of houses steeped in ancient Valyrian tradition, yet now bound to the Riverlands by the presence of Benjicot. The ceremony itself took place beneath a grand arch fashioned from driftwood, bleached white by years of sea and sun, entwined with silver ivy and pale fire blossoms from Dragonstone. A brazier of Dragonfire burned at its center.

Benjicot stood at the end of the aisle, his heart pounding beneath his chest as though it sought to break free and meet you before you could take a single step closer. The young lord had faced death more times than he could count during the war fought in your name, had led men into battle with your image burned into his mind—a guiding star, his unwavering purpose amidst the chaos. Yet, here, in the stillness of this sacred moment, he felt a fear far greater than anything he’d ever felt.

Would you know the depth of his devotion? Could you see it in the way his dark eyes followed your every movement, in the reverent stillness of his hands as they gripped the pommel of his sword? He had fought for you, bled for you, and yet it was your love—freely given, not won on the battlefield—that had undone him completely.

The veil cascaded over your crown like delicate waves, woven from the finest lace and embroidered with a constellation of pearls. Each raw pearl gleamed softly, their iridescence catching the light as though imbued with whispers of sacred devotion. Marine motifs swirled intricately through the fabric, threads flowing like seaweed of ivory and blue silver. The veil seemed alive, a tender masterpiece that wrapped her in a reverent glow, as if shielding her in the quiet embrace of centuries-old tradition. It framed her face with a serene beauty, a living ode to the grace and purity of the sea.

The gown was spectral and a relic of an ancient past, its ivory lace flowing with an ethereal grace. The bodice, structured yet soft, embraced the form with regal elegance, while the long sleeves and cascading skirt swept downward, pooling into a train that seemed to melt into the floor. The accompanying veil draped over your head, mirroring the gown's delicate intricacy, its lace and pearls shimmering faintly in the muted light. Together, they conjured an image of timeless romance, a fleeting glimpse of a bride from a bygone era, suspended in eternal reverence.

Your beauty inspired great emotion in a brutal and merciless man like Benjicot. He felt tears beginning to well in his eyes as he looked at you. You were the most beautiful woman- no- the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You were more beautiful than even his dreams dared to conjure. His throat tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he doubted whether he was worthy of you— You a woman of Valyrian blood and otherworldly grace who had chosen him, a mortal man tied to the soil and shadow of the riverlands.

As you stepped toward Ben and the Septon, you smiled at Ben, who smiled back. He sniffled and attempted to hide his tears.

Ben took you by the hand, as you both looked at one another. When she reached him, and they stood face to face, Benjicot felt a strange, overwhelming calm. Your hand slipped into his, cool and soft as a sea breeze, and with your touch, he found his home. No words passed between them as the Septon began to speak the ancient rites, yet he felt as though they were speaking volumes. His love for you surged within him, fierce and boundless, as he swore silently to himself that no harm would ever come to you, not while he still drew breath.

Ben’s gaze did not stray from you as the Septon began to speak, “You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

To which, Ben did without hesitation. The black of his cloak contrasted beautifully with the ivory of your gown.

Though you’d not take the name Blackwood, you’d take him as a Husband. That was all he needed in this life.

The Septon continued, “We stand here, in the sight of the Gods and men. In thanks and praise, to join two souls as one. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Your eyes drifted from the fire to Ben’s gaze. “Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Hear now their words. Look upon one another and say the words.” Your eyes never left one another's hold.

You spoke your vows, softly, earnestly. You wanted him to know you meant every word. “I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days, whatever may come.”

And Ben recited his, “I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days, whatever may come.” Ben’s grasp on your hand tightened for a moment. His other hand held your cheek gently and he looked upon you with loving and caring eyes. “With this kiss, I pledge my love.” His vow was not mere words. They were words spoken for centuries by a million men in a million different ways. But his were sacred and were heavy with duty and honor.

You tried your best to hold in your tires, “And I take you as my lord and husband.” Your voice was soft, gentle, and weakened from emotion.

“And I take you as my princess and wife.” He looked into your eyes, his voice steady as he repeated the vows, but beneath the surface, his body was filled with fire.

The High Valyrian rite began, you and he both placed your hands above the brazier’s flame, uniting fire and flesh in a silent pledge of courage and loyalty. Then, in Velaryon tradition, a vial of seawater was poured over their clasped hands,

“Se perzys zaldrīzoti se iēdar hen embar, ivestrag�� bisa sagon. (By the fire of dragons and the waters of the sea, let this union be eternal.)” The septon recited. “Then in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim you both, man and wife. Vala se ābrazȳrys, mēre ñelly, mēre prūmia, mēre soul, sir se syt ry jēdaone, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who seek to tear them asunder..”

He was hers entirely, and for the first time in his life, Benjicot felt that he had found his place. The love between you and him was so profound no one, not even the Gods could touch it.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

The wedding feast was a spectacle to rival the ceremony. Tables laden with exotic Valyrian delicacies sat beside platters of hearty Riverlands fare, symbolizing the joining of your two worlds. Roast swan stuffed with figs and honey, spiced eel pies, and bowls of dark red wine were served alongside savory venison and blackberries.

Ben held you tightly as you and he danced around the Driftmark throne room. Ben looked at you adoringly, “Have I told you how breathtaking you look?” He asked sweetly.

You giggled girlishly, “Every hour it seems.” You said as he spun you around the floor.

Ben’s eyes trailed over your body, “I damn well better ‘ave.” He said with a lustful grin making you blush.

Ben danced you around the ballroom floor. As though he was proudly displaying you. You stifled another giggle and rested your head on his shoulder, “I don’t want this to end.” You said softly.

Ben ran his hand over your head, and hair, “It won’t.” He whispered in your ear, “I’m right here. I will be right here.” You raised your head from his shoulder and looked at him, realizing he recited the words you spoke to him as he woke in Harrenhal.

“Pardon my intrusion.” Lord Corlys’s deep voice cut through the dreaminess of that moment, making you quickly realize his presence. Ben seemed as startled by his presence as you did. “No intrusion, my Lord,” Ben said loosening his intimate hold on you in the presence of your Grandsire.

Lord Corlys smiled pleasantly to Ben, “May I have a dance with my granddaughter.”

Ben smiled in return and nodded, “Of course.”

As your hand abandoned his and placed in your Grandsire’s hand, Ben spoke, “I want ‘er back.” He said in jest before leaving the two of you to speak privately.

Corlys amused by jest smiled as he turned his attention to you, “He is a good lad.” He said confidently, “He stayed loyal and steadfast the whole of the war.”

Your thoughts turned to the ones you had during those months of isolation, “The Gods blessed us by returning you and him safe.” You said with a still heavy heart from those days of waiting for letters and news.

Corlys smiled down upon you warmly, “Your father would be proud of you. So would your grandmother.”

“I wish they were here.” You said with a melancholy smile.

He sighed in return, “You have so much of your grandmother in you. Fire and blood.” As he spoke, you looked down. Feeling once again displaced. But he could see through that. Your grandsire held your chin up high as he spoke once more. “And salt and sea.”

Your smile returned to you, “Thank you, Grandsire.”

As the sun set and stars began to glimmer, dragons circled overhead, their cries echoing across the sea. A grand pyre was lit on the beach, and as its flames soared skyward, Benjicot and his Velaryon bride danced beneath the stars. The music of pipes and harps wove a spellbinding melody, and the laughter of their guests mingled with the roar of the sea.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Once the night had slowed to a halt, Benjicot wasted not a moment.

The two of you, fairly drunk from honey wine, rushed off to your now shared chamber.

Benjicot caught up to your pace, and picked you up, carrying you the rest of the way to your chambers.

You couldn’t help but giggle and laugh as he kicked the door to the chamber open.

You threw off your long and beautiful veil, too drunk to care what happened to it.

As Ben set you down you felt his strong hands wrap around your waist tightly, and his nose trail against your skin. Along your shoulder to your neck, breathing in your sent. “Benny.” You said in a breathless whisper.

You could feel the heat from his breath on your skin. “No man on the battlefield would call me that,” Ben said softly into the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your skin. You could hear the smile on his face.

“No.” Your hand tangled in his hair as you felt his kisses grow more and more desperate against your skin, “Out there you’re Bloody Ben.” You whispered seductively, “But I am your woman and In here, you’re my husband.”

His lips abandoned your skin, and he took off your chin making you look at him, “I’m always your husband. Bloody or not.”

You smirked at him, “Don’t forget that.” You said with a sweetly seductive tone.

Ben’s brows narrowed, “How could I?” He asked, looking into your eyes, yearning, “You’re beautiful.” He said shaking his head.

You shook your head and stifled a laugh, “You’re drunk.” You said dismissively as you removed yourself from his grasp.

Ben grabbed hold of you once more. You giggled and squirmed, enjoying the feeling of being at his mercy. He placed you onto the bed and loomed over you. “And you are beautiful,” Ben said as he looked at your face admiring each and every bit of you.

“Benny?” You asked softly,

“Yes?” He responded, playing with the fabric of your delicate dress.

You took hold of his hand, “Will you tell me something honest?”

He looked at you a bit more seriously, “Always.”

You looked down, unsure of how to ask what you wanted to do, “I’ve heard vulgar rumors of war camps.” Benjicot looked at you, intrigued as to what you were going to say next, “Women throw themselves at knights and soldiers.” You looked up at him, “You were gone for so long, I’d not hold it against you if-”

“No.” Ben interrupted you, “No, I did not.” He said with confidence and earnestness you knew was true. “I did not lie in my letters. You consumed all of my thoughts. And how could you not?” He said as his hand ran over your face gently, “Every time we saw the ocean I watched the waves and felt you with me.”

You felt silly for suspecting such a thing. But fortunate to have a husband who would remain faithful to you, and honest to you. And not be angered when you question him.

You took his hand that ran over the side of your face and kissed his still bruised knuckles. Then kissing his palm, and then his thumb, then finally taking his thumb in your mouth as you sucked on it.

Ben groaned as you did so. He leaned down, and gently removed his thumb before he began kissing your lips once again.

He kissed you softly and gently until his hunger couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled your tongue into his mouth as he sucked on it.

Once your kiss broke, you felt flushed. “Benjicot.” You said breathlessly, running your hands down his well-dressed exterior, “I’ve waited for this for so long I don’t know where to start.”

He ran his hand through your hair, shaking his head, “Just let it come.” He said assuring you.

“Kiss me.” You demanded and he obeyed without hesitation. Kissing you feverishly, with such passion you never knew was possible. He bit and sucked on your lips as though he was trying to consume you. You felt your body shake with anticipation as you felt the heat between your legs grow. As the wetness became more and more intense, you pushed Ben off of you, “Unlace my gown.” You demanded, and once again, he happily obeyed.

As he unlaced and unbuttoned your gown more and more of your skin became exposed to him. Never had he seen so much of you, his cock was already embarrassingly hard for you and all he could see was your back.

His hand ran over your exposed skin, “You’re so soft.” He said softly.

You turned around, letting your beautiful gown fall to the ground, pooling around your feet. Your body was fully exposed to him, finally. He had dreamt of this moment for so long and yet you were all the more beautiful than he could have anticipated.

He wanted to ravish you like a hungry and angry man in battle. But, he didn’t want to scare you.

His eyes trailed all over your body, yearning, longing. He licked his lips as he placed one of his hands on the small of your back, pressing you against his chest. His other hand held your face as he kissed.

His lips mingled with yours in an eternal dance, and his hand began uncontrollably roaming all over your body. Making you moan sweetly into his mouth. His hardening cock rocked against your thigh. He couldn’t help it. The feeling of your bare breast in his hand, the feeling of your hardening nipple in his grasp, and the goosebumps that crawled against your skin from his touch, nearly drove him mad.

You grabbed a hold of his overcoat, gripping it so tightly the fabric threatened to rip. “I want to see you.” You moaned against his lips.

Benjicot looked at you hesitantly for a moment. He was not an insecure kind of man. But the war was not kind to his body. He’d collected many scars during his time in the war.

But you bore yourself to him, and he wanted to bear himself to you. He began stripping layers away. You admired all parts of him, damaged or not.

His toned chest and stomach were ridden with scars big and small. Each only showed you all he had done for you. A trail of hair from his belly button that led into his still-clothed cock made you clench your thighs together.

You ran your hand over the tenting bulge in his trousers making him groan. “I will not jest.” You said, assuring me before he pulled himself out of his trousers.

Ben chuckled lowly as he finally discarded them, “I hope not, you’re stuck with it til the end of your days.” His cock was halfway hardened, and still, it was larger than you had envisioned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I am blessed til the end of my days.” You said softly.

The scars on his body felt lighter now, their pain a distant echo, because every wound had been a mark of his loyalty, proof that he would stand against the world itself to protect you.

Ben looked into your eyes, “I love you.” He spoke with devotion.

Your hand ran down his scared chest, over his stomach, “I love you.” You affirmed.

Now, the two of you, naked to one another. Ben laid you down on your now shared bed softly and gently. He looked down over your body with lustful and predatory eyes, “I’ve got to get you good and ready.” He said as his hand ran down your sternum, “I can’t hurt you.” He said as his hand continued to travel further and further down.

You smirked, “I’ll not protest.” You said before you gasped at the feeling of Ben's fingers sinking between your folds.

Ben was practically drooling as his fingers found your clit making you clench your thighs together around his wrist. Ben chuckled lowly at your sensitivity. “Velvet.” He said softly. Your moans only excited him more and made you seem all the more appetizing. “Can I taste you?” He asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

You siffled a giggle, “You have before.” You said thinking back to your first night in Raventree Hall.

Ben smirked, and shook his head, “Oh, but I want to eat you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “How?”

With his lustful and menacing smirk, he began slowly lowering himself on you. He kissed his way down your body, kissing your breasts, sternum, and stomach, until he was between your thighs. Ben looked up at you, “Is this alright?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded, beginning to understand his meaning.

His rough calloused hands spread your legs apart.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears. You’d never felt so vulnerable. Not even in war. And yet you never felt so safe. His hands offered sanctuary.

He kissed down your thigh, making small animal-like groans as he did. As if he were taking each fiber of his being to not ravish you right there.

His desires slipped from his grasp for only a moment. Making him bite down on the soft skin of your inner thigh. It made you gasp and shutter, which only encouraged him.

As his lips kissed against your slit, you felt a surge of passionate lust you’d not felt ever before. And as his tongue slipped past and between your folds that passion was only further ignited. “Ben, awhhh-Ben!” You moaned as you held onto his dark hair.

Your legs shook and pressed against the sides of his head as he drank you in. Lapping up all that he could.

His nose rubbed against your sensitive bud as his tongue pushed in and out of your entrance. It was nothing you’d ever had before. Not even by your hand. You could feel a tightening in your stomach, which was only wound tighter and tighter before it snapped.

Ben drank in your release with a moaning pleasure.

As he lifted his head he smirked at you. “Sweeter than honey wine.”

Your chest rose and fell with each panting breath. You grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him to crawl over you.

He kissed you passionately, and you could taste yourself on his lips. It felt vulgar and sinful, but in the same breath, it was ecstasy.

You wrapped your legs around him, inviting him into you.

Ben pulled his kiss away from you, looking at you with serious eyes. “Are you sure? You do not have to.”

You nodded, “I know.” You nearly whispered.

Ben hesitated for a moment. Not because he didn’t want to- he did,- more than any man could ever want anything. But because he wanted you to want it just the same. “If you wish to stop, say the word.” He reminded you.

He waited for you to nod before he began to ease himself inside of you.

The intrusion at first was foreign. You’d not taken anything near as big as him before. You gasped and moaned softly as he slowly and gently slid his way in. Until he was completely and fully inside of you, he looked at you, “Is that alright?” He spoke attempting to not moan.

You nodded, and Ben’s head dropped to the crook of your neck, “Thank the Gods.” He groaned.

His hips moved against your own. Grinding himself inside of you, again, and again, and again. You moaned as his lips fell onto your neck. Smothering your skin in kisses.

You caressed his head, and closed your eyes, relishing in the pleasure he was driving into you, “You feel so good,” You whimpered.

Ben lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the fire in his eyes, the same fire he had in him when he fought in battle. “You like it?” He asked in a growl, there was nothing that could have brought him more pleasure than the fact he made you feel like this.

You nodded frantically. You used locked your legs around him, forcing him to fuck you deeper and deeper as you said, “I need more. More-more-more-more-”

Ben groaned like an animal, “Fuckin’ hells.” He rasped, “You keep sucking all of me in.” He said with a growl.

You held his face closer to yours. His forehead pressed against yours as you looked into his eyes. “Harder, Ben.” You demanded, and he obliged obediently. He used the same strength he did in the war to plunge himself hard into you. “Ooh, f-fuck-” You moaned, the pleasure so intense you never knew such pleasure could exist.

Ben looked into your blown pupils, desperate and needy. “Tell me, Love.” He groaned.

“It feels,” You began, but struggled to finish your words. Your next release was coming, and soon. He could see it in your eyes plan as anything.

He nodded, looking at you with loving eyes, “I know.” He said, his pace not letting up but increasing. Wanting to draw as much pleasure from your lips as he could.

Your cunt kept squeezing him in, tighter, and tighter. It was ecstasy, euphoria, better than any wine, ale, or opium there was.

As his moans grew more and more animalistic, his movements grew more and more erratic.

Your cunt clenched so hard it didn’t release, squeezing as much of him as it could as you came around his leaking cock. “Awh!” You moaned, hands grasping the bedsheets by your head as tightly as you could. It was all he needed before you felt his hot seed spreading through your belly, “Ben!” You moaned,

He caressed your face. “I’ve got you.” He said, holding you close as he thrust into you once more, making sure none of it got away. “Always have you.” He said, his energy weakening, and his breathing slowing.

Ben looked down at you. Cheeks flushed pink, and your lips swollen. Your eyes were relaxed and the sweat from your body made you glisten in the candlelight. Ben panted looking at such perfection “No painter, nor sculptor could ever capture such beauty.” He said smiling at you. Ben laid down beside you, pulling you close to him, rubbing your back running his hands through your hair. “How do you feel?” He whispered to you as he kissed your temple.

“Perfect.” You said with a smile, running your fingers through his dark hair.

Ben chuckled lowly to himself, “Aye, you are.” He said softly before pulling you in by your jaw to kiss him once again.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to commission a personalized letter from a comfort character or any other custom writings please check out my ko-fi :) Xoxo, Bambi

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healedlover · 3 months ago

Text

ERROR 703

summary: your hacker who stole everything, including your heart. pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader cw: gojo mentioned, mutual masturbation, camgirl!reader, perv!nanami, hacker!nanami, p in v, oral (m receiving), creampie, dirty talk, nanami is a devoted freak!!, jealousy, switch nanami a/n: trying this new theme out.. not proof read sorry!!!1

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

"its strip tease tuesday, you know what to do."

honored1 sent $2,000: take the shirt off now ^^

you scoff at the message and tease the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up revealing, another shirt under. chuckling at the chats reaction you continued taking off each shirt, layer by layer.

until you were finally left with just your lacy bra.

n.kento sent $1,000: shorts next?

"how desperate, still not enough money dont you think?" you tease as your fingers glide down your body, playing with the waistband of your tight shorts.

n.kento sent $3,000: satisfied? let me see you.

“fine then.” you grumbled, slipping a finger in the thin fabric, slowly pulling on it and eventually taking them off, leaving you sitting back in your matching set.

honored1 sent $1,000: take the rest off now

you slipped a finger under the strap of your bra and before you could pull it down another donation, from 'n.kento' rolled in.

n.kento sent $1,000: dont do it yet. play with yourself first, then strip.

you raise an eyebrow at the request, intrigued, you listen to the man and bring your fingertips to your hardened nipple poking out of your bra, you give it a light pinch and kept tugging and pinching at it.

suguwu.g: hot

hungry4money: keep it up.

n.kento: good girl

"ngh..thank you guys... keep the donations rolling in" you bite out, your voice trembling at the sensations you haven't felt in so long.

you were in desperate need of money again, and you knew this wasn't the best option but you received a lot during the times you used to do this, so you were glad you were getting the same attention from before.

"okay, I think I played enough, time to remove the rest?"

suguwu.g: yes

hungry4money: yup.

honored1: please

n.kento: ...

guest117: yes pleaseee !!!

the rest of the chat agreed, you nodded and removed your bra, leaving you half topless in front of everyone.

nanami stared at the screen, lust filled his eyes, he was already holding himself back from glitching out the site to make it seem like only one person was viewing your stream.

which was him.

but instead, his fingers were wrapped around his burning length, stroking it in a quick, intense movement. whimpers and moans filled the room as he watched your breasts bounce as you squirm around in your chair.

nanami quickly sent a quick donation, begging you to touch yourself already.

your eyes peeked at the notification and a subtle smirk rested on your lips, which of course nanami noticed.

"fuck ‘m gonna cum, hurry up baby.." he moaned to himself and noticed your fingers gliding down your body. nanami's expression changed in a blink of a second, he peered his gaze towards the fingers that now reached your raging heat.

"oooh, yes keep going." he muttered, his wrists starting to ache from the strong, rapid movements hes putting on himself. nanami was reaching climax soon and he was trying his hardest to pull back.

ding!

hungry4money sent $1: you're so hot

nanami glared at the notification, veins popping out of his forehead as a wave of jealousy washed through him, what made it worse was your response to the fucking dollar.

"thank you, toji" your voice letting out a little whine when you said his name. nanami didnt realize it yet, but he came, just from the sound of your voice saying another mans name.

he looked down and silently scolded himself, grabbing the tissues from the desk and cleaning himself off. when he finished cleaning, he averted his eyes back to the stream, where you were still touching yourself.

he already got hard at the sight but decided to not get off at you, yet.

he brought his keyboard closer towards him and started typing away. although he went with his first and last name on the site, he was still careful when it came to hacking you.

he began to slowly remove each person off of your stream, one by one, until it was just you and him. he watched as you were close to release and decided to send you a few more donations.

do you want to send $1000 yes or no?

nanami clicked yes, and his worst nightmare came true.

DECLINED!

"fuck. just how much money do I have?" he muttered to himself, quickly splitting the screen and getting on his banks website to check his balance.

"three hundred?"

nanami slammed his hands on his desk and quickly averted his eyes to your stream. he noticed a lot of guests had already joined and sent a bunch of messages in the chat, he was going to fix that later, after he gets some money.

then an idea clicked.

why not he hack you?

it was a thought he had at the start, but he always avoided it, just to not hurt you. but after constantly getting turned on and more obsessed with you, he needed to find a way to get closer to you.

nanami had been rejecting every girl just so he could save his virginity for you, but it was impossible getting closer than just a few 'thank you's' across the screen.

he decided to try it after your stream ended, and prayed it would work.

half an hour passed and you were wrapping up the stream, it was an eventful one and you gained a lot of money from it. you closed up the stream and quickly washed yourself.

as you stepped in the shower you were thinking of more ideas to make the streams even more eventful, fucking yourself didn't feel like enough and the thought of someone fucking you in front of the camera sounded more better.

but who were you going to fuck?

maybe one of your viewers?

whoever it was, you needed to find them soon.

ten minutes passed and you hopped out of the shower and got ready in some comfortable pyjamas. a towel was wrapped around your hair and you walked over to your desk, unlocking your computer to log into your streaming earnings.

"account balance zero?!"

you repeatedly clicked the refresh button, hoping it was just a glitch, but when the site showed the same balance the whole time you knew it was not a glitch anymore.

"what the fuck?" you mumble, quickly going to your bank balance and found your funds remaining the same, but you could've gained a lot more money from the stream you just did.

you were already washed up and ready for bed, there was no way you could make another stream, you sat back in your seat, staring into the ceiling in disbelief.

nanami stared at his funds in success, now, he was thinking of a way to talk to you, he should've thought you'd find the streaming funds to be at zero by now, but after refreshing your page a million times he didnt find anything about you acknowledging it.

so he decided to wait for the next stream, which was tomorrow.

the next day rolled along and you woke up, absolutely drained from last night. you decided to find a man to satisfy your needs–in front of the camera–and made sure to collect your funds right when the stream ends.

you relaxed in bed, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the evening to come along. out of curiosity, you decided to log into the site to see if your funds went back to anything but zero.

but, of course, it remained at zero.

sighing, you put your phone down and rested up until the evening.

beep beep beep

your alarm blared through your pillows and your eyes fluttered open, noticing it was already six 'o clock, you sighed and got up from your bed, brushed your teeth and got ready in a nice outfit.

you planned to go to the club an hour earlier than usual, in case you wouldn't find anyone or in case you had to go to a new one. your streams usually start around nine so you were good.

you walked out of the house and headed towards the closest club nearby you.

after a fifteen minute walk you finally made it to the club, the music blared through the walls and you headed towards the bumper, showing him your id. he nodded and let you in.

the loud music corrupted your ears as you made your way through all of the people taking up the space to dance, fuck, drink, whatever. but as you were walking you took a quick glance at someone sitting in the corner and walked up to them.

"he–"

"oh I know you!" the man got up from his seat and grabbed onto your hands, holding on them as he stared into your eyes.

"oh...do you?" you chuckle awkwardly, glancing away from his piercing gaze, his eyes were scarily blue and hard to look at. he nodded and slipped a finger under your chin, turning your head towards him.

"yup, I watch and donate to your streams. didnt know you lived here, nor came to the club today?"

"which one of my donators are you?" you ask.

"honored1, aka gojo satoru." he said with confidence.

ah, so your number one donor. sometimes nearing second place, who was this 'n.kento' man.

"be in my stream tonight."

gojo chuckled and leaned in, his breath lingering on your ear, before he whispered.

"lets go."

the two of you got home just on time. it didn't take much time for you to already get slammed on the bed and get your clothes violently removed.

"hold on satoru–s-start the stream first."

he nodded and got the camera prepared in a perfect angle before starting up your stream.

3...

2...

1...

nanami noticed you started your stream and clicked on it immediately, just to be met with a man talking in front of the camera. jealousy fuelled through his body and he sat back in his seat and watched.

"hello fans, we got a special guest! her number one donor–aka gojo satoru! sit back and watch me take this woman so good."

rolling his eyes, he glanced at the chat where everyone was just cheering and calling both of them hot together.

oh how he wished he was in Gojo's place.

Gojo walked up to your lying figure on the bed and swiftly lifted your legs and wrapped them around his hips, Gojo unbuckled the belt of his pants and pulled his pants down, leaving him in his boxers.

his boner was extremely visible and he chuckled before pulling down his. boxer, letting his hard length spring out. his hips bucked towards your face as he brought his tip towards your lips.

nanami scoffed at the sight and grumbled a few cuss words under his breath. he watched as your mouth obediently opened to gojos command and noticed your face puffing up at his length suffocating your small mouth.

gojos fingers glide through your body, lowering down and down before he reached your soaking cunt. he slipped a finger in and then another, stretching and stroking your pussy as he continues to thrust himself in your mouth.

nanami felt himself getting hard at the sight, that was odd? you weren't even doing anything to yourself and he still got turned on. he decided to not pleasure himself, not yet, he needed to watch this first.

but his fingers couldn't stop himself, he was hurting, bad, and out of instinct he unbuckled his pants and brought out his cock, already dripping with pre-cum.

nanami wrapped his large fingers around his leaking tip and watched as Gojo was already putting his cock inside you.

"look at this desperate woman, taking my cock so good." gojo praised, glancing at the stream where a bunch of donations were already popping up.

"who's fucking..ngh..you right now? hm?" he teased.

"mghh- yo-you!" you cry out, Gojo let out a tsk and thrusted himself in you, more agressively now.

"who?"

"satoru!" you whined, as your fingers dug deep into his arms. gojo let out a chuckle and nodded.

"good girl, thats right... I–mmph...I am fucking you, yeah?"

you nod and Gojo leans towards your face, whispering something that couldn't be heard through the cameras. nanami noticed you nod and in the same second you and Gojo kissed.

a streak of cum spurted out of nanami and landed all over the screen, did he really cum from you kissing another man? he stared at the mess in disbelief and started cleaning up before going back to watch your steam again.

"fucking hell, stupid idiot." nanami muttered to himself and saw you both getting up and walk towards the camera, Gojo waved to the camera and ended the stream in one click.

nanami immediately typed on his computer and accessed your funds you made on the stream and his eyes widened in shock and noticed you made well over ten thousand dollars.

he transferred the money to his account and shut off his computer for the night.

you and gojo had just finished cleaning up and you sat at your pc checking your funds, and to your surprise, it was at zero again?

"fuck."

"whats up?" gojo wrapped his arms around you

"my streaming funds keep getting to zero... I dont know whats going on."

"likely someone is stealing your funds, ever tried to see who?"

you shook your head and gojo grabbed onto the mouse, clicking a few buttons and ended up at a page where a list of ip's are shown. the page reviewed two similar ip's stealing the funds at around the same time you finished your stream.

"–so now you can try to find out who this is from where they live, just put it in a finder and you're set!"

"thank you satoru, ill see you next time, you should head home."

"you're welcome, ill be watching your streams, bye bye" he walks over to the door and waves at you before leaving. you sigh in your seat and copy the ip address in an ip finder.

the screen loaded for a few seconds before the site listed where the person lived, their name, and everything basically. you silently thank gojo again and scrolled through the information.

one thing that stuck out to you was the mans name,

nanami kento...

nanami...

kento...

n.kento?

"what the fuck does he need my funds for?"

you scroll more and found exactly where he lives, with this information you checked how far he lived, it was only a ten minute drive, not bad. you note down the address on your phone and planned to get there the next day.

the next morning you woke up, earlier than usual and decided to get ready to head over to nanami's place. you showered, and got ready in something comfortable before leaving your place.

when you finished getting ready you got in your car and started the drive. the whole car ride there you were just wondering what you were going to say to him.

ten minutes passed and you finally got to his house. it was an average decent looking house, a car was parked in the driveway and you parked right next to it before getting out and walking to the front door.

you stood in front of the door and rang on the door bell. you heard shuffling on the other side, the door flung open moments later and you were met with a handsome face.

there was no way this man was stealing your funds?!

"you're nanami kento, right?"

"fuck..I mean yes, come in."

"so-"

"I know you found out about the funds, but please I did it for a reason. dont worry I didnt use any of it." nanami interrupted, he was acting like an innocent man getting questioned by the police for something he didnt do.

"whats the reason?"

"to get closer to you, but I also needed some money..."

"and you couldn't just work?" you ask curiously, it was confusing why he needed your funds for his financial problems, but before he spoke up you interrupted.

"also, what do you mean get closer with me?"

"i..like your streams, and you in general! I just cant help but feel my heart beating from looking at you. all I ever wanted was to fu–"

"enough, you could've just begged in my messages and id probably see it one day, you didnt need to hack me, and steal my money."

"I know im sorry, do you forgive me?"

"what did you want to do to me?"

"uh..fuck?"

"come over for my stream tonight, ill star you as a guest like I did with satoru."

nanami nodded and a flash of anger appears in his eyes when you mention gojo. you nod and get up from your seat, walking towards the exit, nanami got up and followed you out.

"and I want to see those funds back in my account by the time I get home, understand? also dont do this hacking shit again."

"yes ma'am."

"see you later, kento, ill send you my address."

nanami nodded and waved goodbye to you before shutting the door behind him.

the evening rolled around and nanami made his way to your house, his cock was going to burst in his pants any second now and he didnt even get to see you yet.

the whole drive he was smiling to himself and wondered what he'd do to you once he walks in.

ten minutes pass and nanami made it to your place, he parked and hopped out of the car heading to the front door. he gave your door three knocks and on the last knock the door fluttered open, revealing you wearing just a t-shirt.

nanami could faint at the sight and he almost did.

he noticed your hardened nipples poking through the shirt and couldn't take his eyes off of it. a snap re awoken him back to reality and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists, dragging him to the bed.

you got the camera ready and started the stream.

3...

2...

1...

"special guest number two, aka the guy who stole my funds the past two streams." you tell the camera and walk towards nanami who was flushed in embarrassment and desire.

honored1 sent $1000: awh you're getting with him?

"only for tonight, this is just a one night stand, right kento?"

nanami nodded, oh how he wished it was more than that, but he didnt want to publicly humiliate himself for asking for more than just a one night stand.

you chuckle and sit on his lap, grinding yourself against him, the friction of his fabric hitting your laced panties and causing rashes along your inner thighs, you were over the moon.

"take off your pants." you demanded

"you want me to do it? why dont you do it, hm?" nanami teased, his fingers slipping under your hair as he lightly pushes your head down, making you get on your knees in front of him.

a flash of shock filled your eyes and your fingers fumble to undo the belt strap, after a few several tries you finally got it unbuckled and you whipped the strap off, grabbing onto the zipper and pulling it down.

nanami watched your every move, his eyes were filled with desire and he couldn't believe he was getting the moment he's been waiting for, for so long.

your fingers slid under his boxers and you pulled it down, letting his searing cock spring out, pre-cum flown down his tip and it looked like his cock was about to explode.

you chuckle and slick your tongue on his creamy mushroom head. nanami twitched the moment your tongue made contact with his tip and he gripped onto your hair tighter.

"keep...mgh...going" he moaned, pushing your head deeper. you hold back a gag that was appearing in your mouth, his length was way too large to be fitting in your mouth, you felt like you were going to suffocate any moment now.

nanami rapidly pushed and pulled your head, up and down, up and down, he was so blinded by pleasure, he needed more than just a quick blow job.

suguwu.g: shit, keep going

honored1: oh fuck i kinda want her again

guest123: #needthat

hungry4money: just fuck already

more and more donations started to roll in and nanami was close to release, he pulled your head away and carried you on his lap, making you face the camera.

"lets make them watch everything, yeah?"

you nod and a whimper slipped out of your lips. nanami hummed in response and grabbed onto your hips, aligning your pussy with the tip of his cock.

he shifted around the panties with his tip and eventually got through it. his leaking tip made contact with your leaking entrance, which was practically begging to get destroyed already.

nanami pushed yourself on his cock, a moan escaped your lips when you felt his large length stretching you out further and further, you felt like you were going to die any second now.

"you like that? you're clenching me so tight, ‘m gonna cum..."

"alread–nghhh?”

he nodded against your neck, leaving small bite marks and kisses along it, before you could ask him to slow down a spurt of beads shocked through your body, you twitch in shock and nanami barely pulled out before thrusting himself back inside you.

"fuck...'m sorry, s-sorry.. ngh look at all my cum pouring out of you."

too blinded at the impact, your half lidded eyes stared into the reflection of the camera, watching you get violently railed by nanami. sounds of your ass making contact with his thighs filled the room.

"look at the donations baby, we're going to make so much money."

"whos...we–mmph s-slow down"

"we as in...me and.. you"

honored1 sent $10,000: hope u enjoy hehe

your eyes widened at gojos donation and you whimpered at the screen.

"thank you sato–" your gratefulness was interrupted with nanami's lips crashing onto yours. your eyes widened and nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, savouring more and more of you.

he pulled away, a string of saliva following both of your lips.

with one final thrust you came all over nanami's cock, he let out a small 'tsk' before pulling out and carefully placing you on the bed. you were absolutely tired from probably the best sex you had.

you notice nanami end the stream and walk over to your desk to check on the funds. a little whistle left his lips and he chuckled before glancing at you.

"we earned a good amount, want to do this again?"

you stare at him in disbelief and shoo your hands at him.

"I promise I wont steal your funds again."

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

a/n: this was lowk crazy ..I want to do camboy nanami next lmao idk tho

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami fanfic #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #need him so bad hehe #gojo x reader #gojo satoru

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months ago

Note

Heyyy, this is my first time ever requesting or even sending this, so please bear with me, I'm trying my hardest to make it understandable and not seem rude T^T. I wanted to know if you were up to writing a continuation of the one-shot/ask "Stangers, T'a'yta (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader". You could possibly write about their growing relationship or maybe a scenario where the differences in their culture collide and or something....honestly it's up to you T^T. Reading it made me so flustered yet also happy, iykwm. I've also been trying my best not to spam you with likes, since I've been reading almost all of your Yautja stories, and now took the courage to send you a request about, yk. Sincerely, K.

Strangers Part 3

Pairings: T'a'yta (male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 4640

Summary: T'a'yta invites you to hunt with him. Not to disappoint him, you go with him to hopefully impress him. But you aren't anywhere close to being fit enough for this. You try... and fail. T'a'yta tries to push you without realizing it. It doesn't go far.

Author Note: I totally forgot I had these stored away! Whoops!

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

Dating a Yautja is something you never expected to ever be an option in your life. Let alone finding one so kind and caring such as himself. T’a’yta is the kindest, sweetest male Yautja you’ve ever come across. Most of the ones you’ve met are either stoic or just don’t want to talk or look at you. Which you’re fine with. Honestly, any Yautja scares you, besides Ze’se and T’a’yta. That’s because you know them and they could protect you. But being around a random one alone, you keep your distance. Rules or not, they can kill you easily.

Not to say this isn’t a slow process. The two of you were from different species, different cultures. It’s all a learning process. Thankfully T’a’yta was more than adapting to the situation, learning the ways of how humans dated and how to ‘woo’ one per se. Bless his sweet heart. He does try. You do as well. Learning about how Yautjas court each other. It included lost of bones and skulls. You weren’t expecting all of his… trophies he had in his ship. He had offered to you to pick one. Nervously, you had chosen a simple looking one. Even it held a story of harrowing dangers.

That did interest you on their hunts. The dangers they willingly face just for a skull to be added to their collection. As a human, that was incredibly impressive. The stories he’s told you are nothing short of impressive. All of his near death experiences, to the scars he’s adorned with. There was a reason he was an elder. He’s clearly earned that title outright.

A message pinged on your phone. The spatula was set down on the counter. You flipped your phone over and smiled at the text message. T’a’yta greets you with a ‘good morning’ text. Then… asked if you had plans for the next week. The entire week. Confused, you told him you were. That got your brain immediately start to roll of ideas that could possibly explain what he wanting. You picked up the spatula and continued to stir your pasta.

The next message froze you in your spot. T’a’yta wanted to go on a hunt with you. He wanted to take you off planet to hunt with him. That both scared and excited you at the same time. Fear was a natural reaction in the face of the unknown. The fact that T’a’yta wanted to take you off planet in the first place. You stared down at the screen, spatula hovering over the pot of softly boiling water.

It was an opportunity. An amazing one. You’ve never been off planet before, never really having the want to. It was scary to go somewhere you haven’t been before. But this… with T’a’yta. He’d keep you safe while out there. You trusted him that much. You sent a message back and told you would love to go with him. Then, you finished up with your dinner.

Next week came. At a space port in your city, you met T’a’yta at his ship. The second time you’ve been on it, it was still amazing to look at and exploring. T’a’yta met you at the ramp wearing a simple loin clothe and some pieces of bones decorating his tresses. You smiled up at him with a small nod.

“Hey, Tay!” Said Yautja fluttered his mandibles with a short purr. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his mid section. For a moment, T’a’yta froze in his spot before returning the gesture with a warm hug. You wanted to sink against him and enjoy his warmth. Instead, you grudgingly peeled away. “Thank you for giving me an opportunity to hunt with you. This is such a cool idea for a date.”

He dipped his head with a grunt. “I too. I am glad you’ve accepted this. I have had this planned for sometime. It lined up perfectly to have you join me.” The brown Yautja turned and guided you up the ramp. You followed after him with a bag of necessary supplies.

Your eyes scanned over the interior of his space ship. You were more than excited to be able to go out into space in this thing. With T’a’yta at your side to teach you, you were going to learn so much under his guidance and care. “So, where is it you’re taking me?” Hopefully, it wasn’t either a freezing cold or sweltering hot planet. None of which you could easily survive on.

“It’s called Ket,” he answers and shows you to his room. Where you are able to store all of your staff. “It’s similar to earth for atmosphere. A biomask will still be needed though. There is oxygen but not lots of it.” You store your bag next to the nightstand. “The part of Ket we will go has a jungle-like biome, but the trees are large. Think of the redwood trees.” Your eyes sparkled at the notion of getting to see such massive trees.

“Really? That sounds amazing!” you cheered and spun around to free him. “Is there something we are specifically hunting?” Of course, it had to be something dangerous if he wants it. T’a’yta planned this before even dating you. Knowing this could be something that could kill you, did frighten you some. You brushed off the fear the best you could before beaming up at T’a’yta.

“Lighets. Small but agile creatures. A venomous bite that can brin down on Yautja in under a minute.” You couldn’t help the gasp that left you. “Yes, dangerous but I will not let you get hurt. Wait until you taste their flesh. It’s a hot thing on the market right now. Not many willingly go hunt them.” As a human, it doesn’t seem reasonable to go hunt such a dangerous creatures if they could easily harm or kill you. It would be safer to just stay away. Yet, here you are with T’a’yta, about to join in on the fun.

“Do you have a picture of one?” you asked. T’a’yta nodded his head, tresses sway with the movement.

“I have something better.” The brown Yautja jerked his head towards the door. You bounded after him with a pep in your step. He led you out of the bedroom, down a ladder, and into his trophy room. You marveled at the amount of skulls once more. He’s alive for six human lives at least, this probably isn’t all of it either. Or has he gotten rid of some?

T’a’yta picks a skull off of the wall then turns towards you. It was smaller than you were expecting. It rivaled between a coyote and house cat-size. Something this small can bring down a five hundred pound beast with one bite? You shuddered at the thought of it getting to you or T’a’yta. It scared you.

“That could bring you down?” you questioned with a small voice. His bright blue eyes narrowed a fraction, almost missed. You timidly stepped up to him and ran a finger over the pearly white skull, feeling the smooth texture.

A grunt left him with a simple nod of his head. “Yes, but I know how they attack. Once you learn that, it makes hunting them easy.” That made sense.

“Okay but… I’ll let you know that I don’t have any gear. No armor or weapons,” you told him and titled your head back to look at him. “I didn’t know what to get.” T’a’yta se the skull back and shook his head.

“No need.” Your brows furrowed, eyes following him walking up to a wall. T’a’yta pressed a hidden button. A secret door opened up on the wall. It revealed a compartment with a set of armor that would fit armor. “Once you accepted, I contacted a close hunt brother and had this designed for you. It is yours to keep.”

Your eyes widened. A gasp escaped you. “What? No. You can’t be serious! I-I can’t. It’s too much,” you sputtered and took a couple of steps back in shock. Armor?! He got you armor for this hunt. That was too much for you to accept without paying him back. “Tay, how-“ he cuts you off by taking one large step forward and grabbing your chin.

“No, it’s not too much. I gift it to you.” He tugs you close to him as he bends his back to crowd into your space. “I told you I would keep you safe. This armor will do that.” The skull is set off to the side. T’a’yta uses that newly freed hand to curl around the back of your neck and tugs you even closer. His forehead presses to yours.

If you are to go on this hunt with him, it would be stupid not to take the armor. Not that you think he would let you go out there without anything to protect yourself with. “Fine, but I will find a w-“ The hand pinching your jaw slid up just enough to pinch your lips together. You huffed and glared at him.

“No.” The nearing elder made his statement clear. A pout took over your features. He finally lets go of you to take your hand and led you over to the armor.

A metal mask meant to cover your lower part of your face sat on the top of everything. The armor had beautiful designs etched into it. A mix of white and sky blue danced across the metal. You were astonished by the gift, still not believing he was giving this to you.

Finally, you turned towards T’a’yta with tears starting to well in your eyes. “Thank you.” Then, you wrapped your arms around him and held him close. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to go hunting with you.” A planet with large trees that would tower over you like the redwoods in California. Jungle might be a downfall though. The humidity and heat. Your face scrunched up at the thought.

From there, T’a’yta guided his ship off the planet and heading towards Ket. You were perched in his lap, only one seat in the cockpit. One of his muscular arms is wrapped around your torso to keep you locked in place. You watched as the planet grew smaller and smaller until he turned the ship and shot off through space.

Nearly a day later, the ship rocked slightly and touched down on Ket. You were immediately rushing towards the cockpit and skidded to stop behind T’a’yta’s pilot’s chair. There through the window was the untamed jungle that held creatures that could easily kill you. It wasn’t terribly too off from the jungles back on earth besides the massive trees and large foliage. It made you feel like this place was meant for giants. And you had just stepped into their territory.

“Holy shit. You weren’t kidding about the trees!” you gasped, eyes wide with excitement. T’a’yta chuckled then swiveled in his seat and stood up. He walked out of the cockpit. You followed after him with a pep in my step, nearly skipping. “How long do you think it’ll be for us to find the lightets?”

T’a’yta goes into the trophy room where the armor and weapons are stored. “That’s the fun part about hunting. We will have to find tracks then follow those. Hopefully they’ll be fresh as well.” Expertly, he grabbed his own gear first and adorns himself quickly with it. His hands moving from muscle memory. Then, the large male turned towards you.

“The armor may feel weird at first but it should be comfortable.” T’a’yta went through the same motions with you, a bit more slow this time. He took his time to ensure each piece was comfortable and secured on your body. He ensures you are safe before stepping back to admire the work.

The one thing that may take time to get used to is the mask. Nothing was wrong with it. But you’ve never had to wear something like this for some time. It’s a little heavier than you expected but it had something to filter out everything besides oxygen. You shook your head side to side and found it not restricting as much as you thought. Then, you gazed up at T’a’yta.

“Well? How do I look?”

Those bright blue eyes scanned over every inch of your exposed skin. His hands cupped your jaw. “Stunning.” Your cheeks flushed with heat. You were thankful to have the mask on to hide most of the blush. A small giggle sounded from the back of your throat. From nervousness and embarrassment.

“Oh, you don’t have to flatter me. You already do plenty for me.” Once more, T’a’yta leans down and presses his forehead to yours. The touch soft and gentle. Fuck, he’s so sweet to me.

A low purr erupts from his throat. He lets his hands wander down the sides of your body to grab your hips and pulled you close. “I need you to stick close though. Do not stray.” He made a note of that since you do like to wander off. And that’s just in the streets of your city where it’s not terribly dangerous as here.

You nodded your head. “I understand, Tay. I won’t let you leave my sight, okay?” Neither of you wanted you to get hurt so the best thing to do was stick close to each other. Even if that means he has to carry you at times.

Soon enough, the two of you were embarking out into the wilderness of Ket. Though the air was filtered via the mask, you were able to catch the sweat scents of the jungle. Or others that made you want to turn your nose up. Apparently, it was all because of the plants nearby.

From fallen down trees to creeks, T’a’yta helped you along. Either by carrying you or encouraging you to make your way across. At times, you had gotten scared from a giant insect that appeared out of nowhere. It’s wings and body helped it camouflage into the surrounding foliage. An undignified squeak left your lips as the moth-like creature fluttered into the air.

Immediately, T’a’yta spun around, hands at the ready. His body relaxed as he chuckled, seeing what scared you. “Little one, it’s just a zebeler. They are harmless.” You placed a hand on your racing heart and watched the insect flutter away.

“Sorry, it just scared me. It came out of nowhere!” you walked up to him and took a deep breath to help calm yourself.

He grunted and patted the top of your head before continuing. What else do these lands hold? Besides zebeler and lightets. One was just a simple insect while the other could take down a full grown Yautja. There was such a difference between the creatures.

Further along, the two of you stopped along a creek. The water cool and refreshing in the sweltering heat and humidity that made you sweat uncomfortably. Your hands dipped into the water. Water was scooped up and poured over your head. The cool temperature helped sooth the heat that nearly boiled you alive.

Next to you, T’a’yta scooped up some of his own and poured it into his mouth. Luckily for him, his immune system could fight off any bacteria in the water. While, your own couldn’t. A waterskin and handheld filter was necessary for you to travel with him.

Then, he paused, head slowly turning to his right. Your eyes immediately followed his towards a set of small paw tracks in the mushy mud. They, at least, looked fresh. You think? T’a’yta looks back at you to make sure you were following his gaze. You nodded.

“Those had been made in the last three hours,” he whispers and stand back up. You followed suit and stalked over to the tracks. T’a’yta stops at your side and knelt back down to show you something. “See how far the toes are spread with the slight indents of claws. That’s what a lightet’s track looks like.” The size was no bigger than a Pitbull paw size. You made sure to imprint that memory forever.

The tracks go back up the bank and into the foliage. You followed after them until the thick plants blocked your route. T’a’yta came up behind you and offered you a hand. Confused, you place your hand in the palm of his only to bite off a yelp. He hoists you onto his back with just a fraction of his weight.

Once he makes sure you are situated securely, he plants his feet, lowers his weight, then launches high into the air. A scream desperately crawled at your throat. Somehow, you are able to fight it back. Instead, you buried your face into his neck and held onto him as tight as possible, maybe even choking him out in the process.

His sharp talons dig into the bark. Deep grooves carved a few inches down in the tree until he found his perch. With a grunt, T’a’yta began to climb even higher, to the lowest branch on the tree to perch for a moment. His head turns towards you. You can’t see his eyes due to the biomask that covers his entire face, but you know he’s looking at you.

“Ready?” he asked with a teasing tone in his voice. Your brows furrowed together.

“Ready for w-ah!” T’a’yta sprints down the branch until the very last second and launches himself off of it with incredible speed. The only thing you could do in the moment was hold on for dear life. A pathetic cry leaves your lips. Your nails dug into his scaly flesh, not even doing enough to mark him.

This went on for some time. For the exact time, you don’t know. All you felt was the wind rushing through your hair and the sudden rise and falls of gravity. A feeling that made you want to puke all over T’a’yta. Your stomach twisting inside of you as you held back the vomit that wanted so badly to come out.

After what felt like ten tortuous years, T’a’yta came to halt and helped you slide off of his back. Your legs were unsteady and weak, forcing him to keep you in his arms. You trembled against him, trying your best not to puke all over his feet. T’a’yta’s hands go to your chin and tilted your face up.

“What is wrong?” he asked, concerned.

It took a few moments to finally push down the lump in your throat. “Please… don’t do that again. Tha-“ you gagged and turned away from him, holding it back. “That was horrible.” His shoulders dropped.

“Did I do something wrong? Had I gone too fast? I apologize, I thought you would like being up high. You can see better up here.” In a sense, he was right. The height gave you an added bonus on the prettiest of the jungle. Yet, his movements had been way too hard on you.

“The speed.” You took a pause to catch your breath. You were bent over, hands on your knees. “You… next time, we’re walking. Okay?” It was a bit harsher than you meant but you hated puking. Plus, you were still up here with only him to catch you. That thought popping in your head made you freeze to the spot. Your gaze slid over to the edge and saw you were so far above the ground that the death would nearly be instant.

A yelp left you as you scuttle backwards into T’a’yta’s hold and spun around to face him. You clutched to him like a life line. His arms instinctively encircled you and brought you flush with his chest. “P-please get me down from here,” you begged him, eyes clenched shut.

His arms tensed for a moment before he hoisted you up into his arms. With one arm wrapped around your torso and your legs snagging his waist, T’a’yta begin the climb down. Not for a second do you dare look down or even around. The height and lack of anything besides T’a’yta to catch frightened you down to the bone.

Once the two of you were back on solid ground, you let go him hesitatingly and took a deep breath. It helped settle your quaking nerves. At your side, T’a’yta timidly reached out.

“Are you okay to continue? If you wish to return to the ship, I won’t blame you,” he tells you and peels his biomask off of his face. Concern swirled in his baby blue eyes. His mandibles twitched. You sighed again and walked over to him. Your hands cupped his jaw. One of your thumbs rubbing along the wrinkly skin.

“I’m fine. I want to keep going. I just… don’t want to do that again please. Unless it’s necessary, okay?” you explained to him in a soft voice. The rapid beat of your heart was beginning to slow down. His presence helped with that.

T’a’yta watched you close. His eyes darting between your two until he found what he was looking for. The tension in his shoulders was released. He nodded his large head. “Alright.” He turned and nuzzled into your touch, eyes hooding over for a moment before he pulled away. The biomask was reconnected and slipped back over his features.

With that settled, the two of you set off again after the tracks on foot this time around. The foliage around was unforgiving as it snagged on your fragile, exposed flesh. You continued to push onward until T’a’yta stopped in his tracks and lowered himself down. You did the same thing, trying to quiet and slow your breathing.

Moments passed until you saw movement through the leaves. There popped out a lightet. Your eyes widened at the sight. It was an orange with stripes of cobalt blue. Though beautiful, you knew it was deadly. Even a lone one.

Another pops out. Soon enough, a group of five gathered in that area. It was a group of all males. Meaning T’a’yta had fair game on which one to kill. You on the other hand would stay back watch from a safe distance. The last thing T’a’yta wanted was you to get hurt or even killed by one of them. It was for your safety and well being in his mind.

Not that you were extremely disappointed. Watching the hunt and just being with T’a’yta was what this was really all about.

For a moment, T’a’yta glanced back at you to make sure you knew to stay. You gave him the slightest of nods. He refocuses on the lightets on hand. His body coils up tightly, preparing for the hunt ahead.

Then, he darted forward at the right moment. His hands snatched up one of the creature’s by the neck. The other free limb forces the creature’s head to twist until a small snap was heard. You could help the small hiss and flinch at the sound. The lightet goes limp in his hold. Dead.

Oh.

The other animals began to go after him with angry yipes and howls. You watched with bated breath, scared out of your mind for T’a’yta. These things could take him down in one bite. And you would be useless to help him. Even the small knife at your waist couldn’t do much against the four of them.

T’a’yta easily dodged each attack with either defensive move or an offensive swing. The sharp talons that ended on each other his fingers raked across expertly on one lightet that had grown too close. Blue blood sprayed across the green foliage and stained the animal’s fur. It gave a painful cry and slunk away, hissing at T’a’yta with rage.

But, he didn’t stop.

Even as the numbers dwindled to three, they continued to fight on.

A gasp left your masked lips. Your hands flew to the metal mask covering your mouth. One had gotten so close to biting T’a’yta. Long claw marks decorated his back now, leaving a scar he would later flaunt about. He growled and whipped around. His massive hand gripped the lithe creature’s neck and snapped it with ease. Though it had almost gotten to him, you felt sorrow for the lightet’s death. Only slightly.

Two left. Both lightets glanced at each other before bounding off into the foliage. T’a’yta stood there, hands flexed at his sides for at least another minute or so before relaxing. His posture straights up as he glances over to you in the bushes. He motions for you to come out then goes over to the closest lightet he killed.

Expertly, a knife is pulled out of his belt and wields it. You are rooted in the spot.

“Little one, come here. I want to show you how to clean a kill,” he calls over to you without looking towards you. He seems to be proud of his kills as he admires the lightet motionless on the ground.

Yet, when you don’t move towards him, he finally turns his head towards you. A lump grows in your throat. Your name is called by T’a’yta. “Don’t fret, it can’t harm you. It’s dead.” He makes a motion of picking up its head and showing its lifeless eyes towards you.

This was a mistake.

That set you off. You stumbled backwards. The heel of your foot catching on a root. A yelp passed your lips as you fell backwards. T’a’yta says your name in haste and rushes after you. His large body kneels down at your side and helps you sit up. He crowds into your face until you pushed him away.

You scrambled back a little bit to put some space between the two of you. T’a’yta waits there while watching you carefully.

When you finally take a moment to calm down and realize your terrible reaction, you lowered your head and pushed up your shoulders. “Oh god, I-I’m sorry. I thought… I thought I could handle all of this. But, I don’t know.” A few seconds past until you realize what you said sounded like you wanted to break up. You popped up on your knees.

“Wait! Not like that.” The sorrowful posture he once held changed. “I mean, the hunting. I’m fine with the skulls but seeing it happen.” Your whole body shuttered. The thought was cool but seeing it in real life was different. “I’m sorry.”

A chuff came from T’a’yta. The giant brown Yautja knelt closer to you. “No need to apologize. You have done nothing wrong. This is a learn experience for all of us.” That was true. No road was smooth. There will always be a bump or two. He raised a hand slowly, waiting for you to make the choice to either stay or pull away. He cups your cheek.

“Now I feel bad. You got me this amazing armor and I probably won’t use because I can’t handle hunting.” Tears pooled in your eyes. T’a’yta scooted closer and gripped bother of your cheeks. He careful wipes away the tears falling down.

His head shakes side to side, making his tresses sway with the movement. “Do not. If you would like, I can help train you with fighting skills. Or you can just wear it for fun. You don’t have to wear just for hunting.” You brightened up at his offers.

“That’s true!” A small smile cracked across your features behind the mask. But he saw the way your eyes crinkled.

“Alright, are you okay to go back?” he asked you once you’ve calmed down enough. You nodded your head. T’a’yta helps you off of the ground then goes to gather the lightets. He does his best to shield them from you before guiding you back through the jungle. All the way back home.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x human #predator x human #x reader #T'a'yta

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trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

Text

in your hands + two

authors note: well, friends. we've done it again. this is going to be a short series. if you're unaware, it's yet another au based off "looking through your eyes."

need to catch up? read part one HERE.

warnings: fluff, angst and smut

words: 8k (don't ask)

“Remind me again what you know about this guy?”

It’s a valid question. One Solana has no answer to despite the understanding of and behind it.

She shakes her head, once again throwing aside another failed option for a dress, earning another look of disagreement from her best friend and older sister, Yolanda.

Six years apart, while they weren’t the closest when they were younger, with Solana now being a mother and no longer just an aunt to her niece and nephew, she's found herself growing closer to her older sister.

Something about motherhood being a thing for both of them creating a bond.

Not to mention, while they haven’t always seen eye to eye on things, in her hardest moments, Solana has been able to lean on her big sister. Hence why she’s packed up her daughter and a couple of different options for her date tonight with Roman and ventured over to her sister’s place.

It would have probably been easier for her to just invite Yolanda over to her apartment, but given that Trick, Solana’s brother-in-law, offered to swing by her place and pick her, along with Soraya staying with them for the evening, it just worked out better that way.

Plus, Yolanda has always been much better with makeup, fashion and things of the sort.

“His name is Roman, and he’s nice.”

Yolanda rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s so much.”

“He’s older.”

Yolanda’s gaze becomes a bit more suspicious. “How old?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. 30s.” The gray in Roman’s beard would indicate he may even be in his forties, but looks wise, he just doesn’t appear that old. He must work a stressful job. Has to be given how wealthy he appears. Rich people seem to always be stressed about one thing or another. Even if it’s a trivial matter that’s very much first world problems.

Yolanda nods, clearly pleased by the answer, finding the age gap agreeable. “And how did you meet him?”

Solana shrugs. “I told you. At work.”

“At that uppity ass restaurant?”

Solana rolls her eyes, grabbing another dress off the bed. “The one that helps me pay my bills.” Barely. “Yes.”

Yolanda is dedicated to staying on this topic. “So, he just walked up to you and asked you on a date while you had Raya on your hip?”

Solana fiddles with the dress in her hand. “Not exactly…..”

She had to be pacing across her room for a good half hour, cell phone in one hand, folded piece of paper in the other. The little piece of paper that she found wrapped up with the stack of money given to her by Roman exactly three days prior.

A piece of paper with a seven digit number written on it. Dashes and all. A phone number.

His phone number.

She’s thought about it on and off for the past three days, too. Considered throwing it away, considered calling it, texting it even. So many options, and none seemed like the right one.

Why would a man like him give someone like her his number? While on a date, nonetheless? Granted, given from what she saw of their interactions on said date, Solana wouldn’t be surprised if it was the first and last.

And it’s not like there was a wedding ring on either of their fingers.

So……

It’s why she acts based on that fleeting moment of courage, deciding to bite the bullet and dial the number while Raya sleeps peacefully in her crib.

It takes another five minutes between the time she dials the number and when she hits send. Her heart is practically beating out of her chest at each daunting ringing on the other end.

“Hello.” And right away, Solana is regretting her decision. He sounds irritated.

“Hi.” She clears her throat. “Umm, I—”

“Solana?” And just like that, his tone has shifted into something entirely different. Kinder, almost.

“Yeah, ummm, is this a bad time?”

A deep chuckle on the other end of the phone. “No. Not at all.” It certainly doesn’t sound that way, but she’s not about to call him out on the incongruence. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Not if?”

“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

She swallows. He’s so confident. “I—I just didn’t—I wasn’t sure if it was—it was an accident.” And as soon as it comes out, she’s slapping her face as she continues to wear a hole into the floor. What a stupid thing to say.

Another deep chuckle. His voice is so damn sexy. “You think I accidentally gave you my number?”

“I just…..” A glance at the photo on her nightstand, one of the first photos taken of her and Soraya when she was born, triggers the elephant in the room. “I have a baby.”

“I’m aware.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?” He doesn’t give her time to answer. “Look, I’m not a phone person. I prefer to discuss things face to face.” Solana’s stomach twists.“What are you doing Friday night?”

And the twisting intensifies, because there’s no way he’s asking her out?

He can’t be…..right?

She clears her throat, offering an answer that’s not entirely true but not entirely false either. “I—I have to work.” She technically hasn’t picked up the shift yet, but it’s bound to happen. Among other things. Catch up on schoolwork. Be a mom. Stress over bills. Nightly scheduled mental breakdown. The usual.

“Not anymore,” he says it so easily, like it’s a simple thing that shouldn’t even need to be discussed. “I’ll give you whatever you make in a night.”

Solana laughs, waiting for him to also join in. He doesn't. “Shit, are you—are you serious?”

“Send me your address. I’ll have a car come pick you up.”

And that was all she wrote, hence how Solana ended up in the position she’s in now, readying for her date with a Mr. Roman Reigns.

A knock on the door interrupts her, Heaven, Solana's ten year-old niece walking in, her eyes lighting up when she sees the dress. "It's so pretty!"

Solana smiles, "thank you, baby."

Heaven's eyes crinkle with a sense of playful mischief as she walks over by her mom, sitting on her lap and asks, "are you going on a date?"

Solana and Yolanda share a laugh, the elder sister answering, "she sure is, Heav."

Solana readies to ask her niece a question when Heaven beats her to it. "Is he gonna be Raya's new dad?"

It's unexpected, as are a lot of questions for kids. But, it's still something that gives her pause, makes Solana sad for a second. Cruz doesn't need to be anyone's father. Raya isn't missing out on anything with him, but the innocent question does stir up some deeply rooted fears.

If Raya will suffer from growing up without a father at all?

Granted, it's hard for Solana to justify the alternative. Her father was in her life, and look how that turned out.

Yolanda is wise and helpful, redirecting her daughter, "baby, did you need something??"

Heaven is young enough to not see the innocent subterfuge, instead asking her initial question. “What time is grandpa coming over?”

Solana’s head snaps up as she looks at her sister through the mirror. Yolanda’s pretty face is painted in guilt as she clears her throat, quietly asking Heaven to complete some made up task, resulting in them being alone.

“Sola…..”

“Is he coming over tonight?”

“Sola—”

“Answer the question, Yolanda.”

Yolanda swallows, defeat overcoming her. “Yes.”

Solana scoffs, partially in disbelief, mostly pissed the fuck off. Shaking her head, she throws the dress down on the bed and grabs her bag, angrily stuffing them in said bag. “Forget it. I’ll see if Kayden can keep Raya.”

Yolanda’s shoulder drops as she shakes her head. “Solana, you’re being ridiculous. He’s our da—”

“Do not call him that,” Solana snaps. “He’s your dad. He’s nothing to me.” She continues to pack away the clothes, the sting of betrayal fueling her actions. “I can’t believe you would try this shit. You know I don’t want him meeting Soraya.”

She sighs, trying to explain herself. “I wouldn’t have let him—”

“Bullshit,” Solana cuts her off, swinging the bag over her shoulder. “When are you going to learn to respect my wishes? I don’t want anything to do with him! The same way he didn’t want anything to do with me!”

“You’re so dramatic. Acting like he was never there.”

“And you’re acting like he was father of the freaking year,” Solana snaps before scoffing bitterly. “Oh wait, he was. For you. It was just when I rolled around he decided he was done with fatherhood.”

Yolanda’s pretty eyes flash with a slice of guilt, but not enough to cause her to confess her wrongdoing. “Solana, he wants to make things right with yo—”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t want anything to do with him,” Solana vows, gathering her bag of clothing that holds her wallet, her phone stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans as she walks out of the room, down the hall, and in TJ’s bedroom where the crib is.

“Hi, baby…..” Solana apologizes as she lifts a sleeping Soraya out of the crib, grateful when her sweet daughter remains asleep. Solana kisses the side of her head and bypasses her sister who stands in the hall, following her out and into the living room.

Solana finds her brother-in-law sitting on the sofa, watching ESPN.

“Trick, can you drop me off at Kayden’s place?”

Yolanda is behind her, frustration in her voice. “Solana, you’re being childish.”

Solana ignores her, focusing on her request. “Please?”

She sees the way Trick’s confused expression lifts from her to behind her, Yolanda most likely nodding to give him the sign off. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shuts off the television and stands up. “Of course, sis.”

Solana mumbles a thank you and ops to stand outside and wait on the porch. She’s too livid with Yolanda to be around her right now.

She just hopes and prays that this isn’t a bad sign for the evening to come.

—-------

Le Bernardin

A fancy, rich, upscale restaurant. The type where people pay thousands of dollars just for a reservation. Solana had actually applied for a job there, overhearing the pay was a fraction above minimum wage. Only for them to take one look at her and send her on her merry way, less than ten minutes into the interview.

So, it’s a bit of a full circle moment when the SUV pulls up in front of said restaurant, and she realizes the same place that turned her away as a waitress is exactly where she’ll be dining this evening.

God really does have a sense of humor.

Solana is taken back yet again as she is escorted into the restaurant only to see it completely vacant. There’s a couple of workers, and….and him.

Roman Reigns.

Somehow, someway, he looks different. Better than before. Bigger. If that’s even possible.

The closer she gets to him, the more she takes in his appearance. Dress pants, nice shoes, short sleeved, dark blue shirt that hugs his bulging muscles. That beautiful hair pulled back into a bun. Expensive watch on his wrist. And eyes glued directly onto her.

Solana suddenly feels severely underdressed, regretting letting Kayden talk her into wearing the short orange dress and gold heels she eventually settled on after a good half an hour of going back and forth on options.

But, it’s when she’s directly in front of him, his lips curling into a smug smile that the second guessing wanes ever so slightly.

He looks far from disinterested.

“You look even more beautiful when you’re all done up.”

It’s hard not to smile at such a compliment coming from such a man.

“Thank you…..” She looks around, nervously gripping her clutch. “Are we the only—”

“I rented it out for us for the night.” Her eyes widening make him chuckle as he moves to pull out her chair for her. “You could say I’m a bit of a private person.”

Solana swallows, still confused but moving to sit down. “How…..how did you?”

“Money talks,” is his simple answer as he sits across from her, motioning for the men who escorted her in the restaurant to leave. “I’m glad you came.”

In a weird sort of way, she is too. Even if she’s not entirely sure why. “I—I wasn’t sure at first.”

He looks curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, she pushes a string of hair that’s escaped her updo behind her ear. “That woman you were with…..”

Roman rolls his eyes. “She’s irrelevant.”

“Not irrelevant enough for you to not take on a date.” It comes out before she even realizes it. Solana slaps her hand over her face. “I’m so sor—”

“I’ve known her since I was a teenager. We…..mess around from time to time.”

Solana grows quiet. She gets it. He’s handsome. That woman was stunning. It makes sense that attractive people like to fuck other attractive people.

“But, she’s not….she’s not your girlfriend?” Because as handsome and nice as Roman seems, that’s one thing she could never do or get behind. Being the other woman.

“Not at all.” His answer is a lot more relieving than she’d like to admit. “So, can I ask about your daughter’s father?” He skips to the real question. “He still in the picture?”

Solana shakes her head, waiting for the waiter who just walked up to finish pouring the champagne before she answers. “No.” Solana takes a sip, eyes closing, missing the relief that flashes in his eyes. “He—he abandoned her and me.”

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t necessarily sound it, but regardless, it doesn’t make a difference.

“I’m not,” she shrugs, being more honest than what’s characteristic for her. “He’s a piece of shit who left me when he found out I was pregnant, showed back up a month after she was born because he assumed I put her up for adoption and left again when he realized I was keeping her.” Solana ends on the bitter but honest note. “I’m glad he’s not in her life. He’d only end up hurting her.”

Flashbacks of her own daddy issues flood in, forcing her to confront the fact that she’s probably just overshared. A lot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re not wrong. Kids need stability.” He says it so easily, Solana wondering if there’s a story there. “How old is she?”

The question brings the smile back to her face. “11 months. She’ll be a year next month.” Solana can’t believe how time has gone by. It feels like only yesterday she was welcoming her sweet daughter into the world, and now she’s about to be one. Time truly does fly. “I’m sorry, I keep talking.”

“I think I could listen to you talk all night and never get tired.” Their eyes lock, Solana shifts in her seat. His gaze is intense and burning and has her cheeks reddening. “Tell me more.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

She looks away, briefly distracted, wondering just how much the chandelier above their table costs. Probably more than she’s even made in her working life. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m—I’m 26. I—I have a child. An older sister. She’s married with two kids. I—I’m really close with my mom and my sister…..usually.” She chuckles, adding, “I work two jobs, and I go to school full time.”

He seems intrigued by that last part. “What are you studying?”

“I’m getting my masters in nursing, specifically for FNP. I wanna be a family nurse practitioner.”

“Will be,” he corrects, complementing, “that’s impressive.”

“Maybe.” If only she felt as sure as he sounds. Still, she's appreciative of the kind words and says as much. “Thank you. My—my mom is a nurse. My sister is an RN. Mami wanted to be an NP, but she got pregnant with me right when she started grad school and just couldn’t handle both, so she dropped out.” Solana swallows. “I want to do it for her. For me, too, of course. But her and Raya.” His slight confusion makes her smile as she clarifies, “Soraya’s nickname is Raya.”

Roman makes a sound, acknowledging, “your face lights up when you talk about her.”

The smile is unavoidable. “She’s my heart.” Emotion builds up as she finds herself sharing, “I had just moved back here from Cali when I found out I was pregnant with her, and it….it’s weird, but I—I needed her at that time. I needed her to help me heal.” Solana finds herself subconsciously rubbing at the horizontal scar on the palm of her right hand.

A battle scar.

Most of what she's shared with this man would probably rank pretty high up there on anyone’s list of shit not to say on a first date, probably cementing this being a one and done thing. And, it’s not intentional. At all. She just finds herself opening up to Roman in a way she hasn’t opened up to any man.

Ever.

And, it confuses the mess out of her.

If he's curious about the unspoken story, he doesn’t express as such, just offers her a path to deflection. “Well, I’m sure you have questions for me.”

She does. “What do you do?”

He smiles at her, and she feels her insides melting away. He’s such a beautiful man. “Business exec. I do buyout leveraging. I won’t bore you with the details. I’m also into real estate.”

She nods, assessing the still vacant room, like she’s just waiting for other guests to arrive, even though he’s made it clear that won’t be happening. “I guess…..I guess you do well for yourself.”

He makes a face. “You could say that.”

She’s most definitely saying that.

“What about your family? Do you have any kids?”

“No kids. I have a twin sister. Parents are still alive, but that’s…..complicated.”

Solana picks up on the almost tension that rises in him at the ending part, the way his eyes briefly dart away.

“I get that…..” Because she does. Oh, she does. “Are you close with your sister?”

Solana is relieved to see that pearly white smile return. “Depends on the day.”

She giggles. “I agree. My sister is my best friend, but she’s also a thorn in my side sometimes.”

“Is that who’s watching your daughter?”

“She was supposed to,” Solana chuckles, elbows on the table. “But, it ended up being a thorn day, so she’s with her godmother.”

He nods, asking, “what time do you need to be back?”

Solana starts to answer while pulling out her phone, “I put her down for bed a little early, so…..” Glancing at the time on the phone, seeing that it’s quarter to 7pm, she shrugs and shares, “I just need to be home by midnight.”

He makes a sound. “That’s a decent amount of time.”

Curious, she finds herself asking, “For what?”

“Whatever you want.” And it’s the way he’s looking at her, how his eyes briefly drop to her chest, the small smirk on his face that there’s definitely something he wants, too. “Or whoever.”

—-----

Straddling Roman Reign’s lap in the back of the SUV that’s currently driving them to his penthouse isn’t exactly how Solana pictured this evening playing out. Even if it was predicted by her annoyingly accurate best friend.

“Ten bucks says you get fucked tonight.”

It was laughable at the time. Solana has never been one to sleep around. Cruz was her first everything. First kiss. First boyfriend. First time. Hell, the father of her first child. She’s never been with another man except for him, never really saw it for or in her to try out different men.

It’s why Roman currently sucking on her neck as his big hand palms her ass through her dress has her thrown for a loop. This isn’t her. At all. And yet, there’s not a single part of her that wants to stop, wants to push him away, to tell him no.

She just finds herself smashing her lips back onto his, the two continuing to tongue each other down until they reach their destination.

His hand closed around her, Solana is trying to gather herself as he leads them into the building to the private elevator. The distraction of his lips on her pulling her from taking in the fact that this man seems to be surrounded by security. Men guarding the SUV as they walked in the building. Men in the lobby of said penthouse. Men in the restauraunt.

Just guards everyone.

Solana chalks it up to a rich people thing.

Especially when she steps foot into his penthouse.

“Holy shit…..” The interior is dark and sleek. Some shades of red and blue strewn about. It all feels so expensive. “I can’t believe this is where you liv—”

“I’m not gon’ lie, I’m not listening to a damn thing you’re saying right now.” It’s a combination of brutal honesty and a strain of frustration, Solana turning around to see he’s inching towards her. “All I can think about is getting you naked and face down, ass up on my bed.”

She closes her eyes the minute he’s right before her, swinging his arm around her waist, yanking her to him. Solana has to crane her head up to look at him. He’s so damn tall.

The hungry look in his eyes is no doubt too different from the exact way she’s looking at him. He may want her, but she definitely wants him.

Even if she doesn’t understand it.

Even if a part of her feels slightly guilty for what’s about to commence.

Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that she wants this.

It’s what has her licking her lips and saying so calmly. “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile is wicked, and she only has seconds to think about what she just welcomed into her. Figuratively and literally before he smashes his lips onto her.

Solana has only been kissed by a few men in her life, the majority of them coming from her daughter’s father. And it’s always been…..okay. Decent. Nice, even.

Kissing Roman, however, is none of those things. That hunger in his eyes is matched only by the passion in the way he kisses her, the way his full, pink lips move against hers, his tongue entering her mouth, toying around with her own.

It’s all so powerful and ravenous, and she finds her hands locking behind his neck at the same moment he hikes her up on his waist.

A gasp leaves her mouth, forcing her to break said kiss as he walks her to the back of his place, toward his bedroom.

“How…..” Never a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, especially since having Soraya, it’s a complete surprise the way he lifts and holds her like she weighs no more than a gallon of milk.

Roman, however, is clearly still not interested in talking, because the moment they arrive in his bedroom, he has her up against the back of his door. His mouth is back on her with those hungry kisses that has her nails raking up the back of his neck, her thighs tightening around his waist.

His breathing is uneven, his voice strained, and that hardening pressing in between her legs tells her just how badly he wants this too.

“If you want to stop, you need to say something now.”

It’s the do or die moment. The epic moment of meeting at the crossroads. A part of her is screaming at her to get the hell out of this man’s place and back home where she belongs. With Soraya. Her daughter. Being the best mother that she can be.

But, another part of her, a stronger part of her, wants this, wants him. Because she always does the right thing. Or, tried to, at least. She’s certainly never allowed herself to indulge like this, so where’s the harm?

It’s like Kayden said.

Even woman should have at least one one night stand story. And who better to do it with than the man before her?

Solana’s answer is to press a teasing kiss against the base of his neck. “I’m not saying anything.....”

It feels like she’s barely able to get the words out when he’s carrying her over to the bed, sitting down with her still on top of him. He pulls back and motions for her to climb off. Standing in front of him, Solana watches how his gaze travels over her body before he demands, “take your clothes off. Slowly.”

It’s a strange, almost unfamiliar thing how easy it is for her to follow his instruction without a second thought. One minute her fingers are hooking on the thin straps of her dress, the next she’s squeezing herself out of it, all the while of his eyes never once leaving her.

Heavy breast freed, the only piece of clothing remaining on her is the soaked, black, lacy thong that keeps her cunt covered.

Roman licks his lips and beckons her over, Solana wordlessly stepping close enough for him to tug her to him, his face buried in her chest. Her head falls back at the same time her mouth drops open as he starts a dangerous combination of kneading one breast while tonguing the other.

“Oh, fuck…..” Her hand is once again on the back of his head. “Roman…..”

“You better get used to saying my name.” He hikes her back on his waist only to flip them, so she’s laid back on the bed with his big, strong body covering her. “Cause it’s the only thing I want to hear for the next few hours.”

Her eyes widen at that, the word escaping her, “hours?”

Roman smiles, and it’s the best and worst thing in the world. So much mischief hidden behind those pearly whites. Carnal, salacious plans. “I like to fuck.” His gaze drops down in between her legs. “And eat.”

There’s a bit of anxiety that spurs the minute he starts dragging those luscious lips from her breast down her chest, his teeth pressing against her skin when he bites down on the band of her underwear. Solana’s hands grasp at the sheets as he uses his mouth to rid her of her final piece of clothing.

Eyes darting open, she nearly loses it seeing him bring her panties to his face, his own eyes shutting as he deeply inhales and smirks. “I’m keeping these.”

She doesn’t have time to process how he tosses them to the side redirecting his focus to the dripping mess that is her cunt.

He makes a sound, going to pull his shirt over his head, moving to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Look at this pretty ass pussy. Already nice and wet for me.” His words do something to lessen her anxiety but not as much as she’d like. Getting head has always been a mid experience for her. Cruz was…..okay, nothing to be overjoyed about, and he always acted like it was an inconvenience whenever she asked him to return the favor. Not to mention the fact that he rarely, if ever, made her come from it.

Penetration was also hit or miss.

So, her expectations are pretty low up until that first lick of Roman’s thick tongue that has her nearly jumping off the bed.

“Shit!” Her reaction is a bit embarrassing, most likely more than what’s necessary, but if he’s annoyed by it, he does a damn good job hiding it.

He looks more turned on than anything. Roman’s long, thick fingers are suddenly playing with the mess she’s certain has already dripped on the soft sheets of his bed. “Lay back, and keep these legs open for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

More embarrassment with how quickly and fervently she nods her head, again falling back onto his big bed. Solana moans quietly when she feels his face completely submerged in her drenched cunt.

“Roman…..”

He makes a sound followed by his fingers spreading her folds, revealing her swollen clit to him. “Sweet ass pusssy….”

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue how she’s supposed to last these hours he’s referred to at least twice now based upon the fact that his mouth alone has her about to climax and tap out. It’s so unfamiliar and borderline inhuman how he works his tongue on and against her, exploring, licking and sucking every part of her that Cruz has somehow seemed to neglect her.

She has her hand on the back of his head, fisting and undoing his bun, curls cascading around her fist as she presses his face deeper into her.

It’s when he lifts his head, however, beard, chin and mouth soaked with her essence that she truly has to hold it together. “I changed my mind. I want you to watch me.” She’s not sure how and if she can do anything but, Roman’s dark eyes dropping back to her vagina. “Want you to see how good I eat this pussy…..”

Good isn’t the word for it, because the methodical way he alternates between flicking, swirling, sucking, all the while playing with her, one finger, two fingers, moving in and out of her, needs to be studied by all men.

This is how you make a woman come, and she does. All over his face. Solana practically convulses as he laps up every bit of her essence, not once letting up, even as her orgasm rips through her. He’s still sucking on her clit, forcing her to push him away due to the overwhelming sensation of it all.

She’s partially discombobulated as his mouth finds her, letting her sample the remnants of her cum mixed in with their saliva as he taunts, “see how good you taste?” Solana is incapable of answering, among many other things. “Gonna eat you out all fucking night…..”

It’s a promise that has her clit throbbing.

Not as much as it does watching Roman stand up at the edge of the bed and start to undo his pants. She’s unable to look away as he also rids himself of the remaining articles of clothing, her eyes basking in every rippling band of muscle that seems to make up his entire body.

This man is beautiful and strong and ungodly perfect. It feels too good to be true.

But, it’s when he slides his boxers down, his member springing out with hunger and need that her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“Oh….”

To be fair, Solana has only had sex with one man, so comparing dicks is a hard thing for her.

No pun intended.

It’s a hard thing, because it’s quite unfair and borderline cruel to even have Roman and Cruz in the same category.

Cruz barely scratches 5’7.

Roman is well over 6ft tall.

Cruz is lean and lithe with some muscle and fat that he’s acquired over the years.

Roman’s muscles have muscles.

Cruz dick is….average, probably a little under average.

Roman’s dick is massive.

The mushroom tip alone, pre-cum oozing through the slit, is enough to have her rethinking this whole thing. She’s not sure even that can get in.

“I don’t…..” And Solana is suddenly forced to endure the most awkward conversation of her life. “How is it supposed to fit?”

A probably silly question if not for the fact she’s genuinely concerned for the state of her vagina right now.

“It’ll fit.” Roman, however, seems unbothered, stroking himself for a minute before he instructs her. “Get on your hands and knees. Hold onto the headboard if you want.” Despite her newfound anxiety, she follows suit, Solana moaning as he glides his tip along her slippery folds. It’s baffling to her how wet she’s been and stayed for him, even with him already making her come once. This man’s presence alone is orgasm inducing. “You just gotta let me stretch this little cunt for you.”

Stretching is one thing. Ripping is an entirely different thing.

“Trust me.” He seems so sure of himself, and she’s not sure why she seems so sure of him too, nodding as she goes back to focusing on holding onto the headboard. A much needed source of support, clearly.

Eyes closed, she hears the ripping of the condom package. Can imagine him sliding that thing over the massive, heated, turgid muscle weighing in his big hand.

She feels one hand gently gliding down her back, settling on her ass cheek where he gives her a little slap. “Just try to relax.”

Much easier said than done.

Still, she says nothing, eyes closing and head nodding.

Now or never.

But, the minute his thick dickhead intrudes her tight opening, they’re both moaning in synchronization. It’s a burning, tight sensation on her part, maybe his as well, but there’s also something pleasurable about it? Something satisfying about the way he carefully works inch by inch of his girthy member inside of her, all the while praising her, goading her, talking her through.

“That’s it. Take this dick like the good girl you are.”

“Come on, baby. Open up for me.”

“Look at how this pussy yielding for me.”

It’s still a tight ass fit, and Solana is partially nervous about what the aftermath will look and feel like. Ice packs, crutches, and Tylenol seem to be in her near future. But, none of that matters once he’s fully seated in her, Solana trying to get used to the feel. So full and filing.

That time of adjustment seems short lived, almost non-existent, because Solana’s body seems to have a mind of its own when she starts moving her ass back on him, prompting him to grab her hips as he starts to thrust into her.

“Shit, girl, knew this pussy would feel amazing, but I didn’t know it would feel this damn good.” His words are accurate and relatable, the discomfort gradually easing into something of pleasure. “Look how good you taking this dick.”

Eyes shut, Solana rocks her big ass back against him, whimpering when he brings hand down and slaps it. “Roman…..”

“That’s right. My name. It’s the only thing I wanna hear leave that pretty mouth of yours.” He intensifies the force of his thrusts, clearly encouraged by how she eagerly throws her ass back on his big dick.

“Fuck, it’s so big…..” The biggest she’s ever had. The best she’s ever had. “But, it feels so good….”

“You like that shit, don’t you, baby?” He’s such a tease, taunting her, throwing in her face how good he’s beating her shit up. Solana hasn’t had sex in almost two years, not since before she found out she was pregnant, and this being her return to such a, now, wonderful thing is one hell of an experience. “Like how I’m stretching this pussy?"

“Fuck, I love it.” Because she does. Her knuckles are practically white from how hard she’s gripping the headboard, because it’s the only thing keeping her from screaming to the heavens. This man is a demond. “So good….”

Roman continues to fuck her from behind, backshots at different angles. Her head forced into the pillow. Hands on the headboard. Hands held behind her back. And each time causes her to reach a new level of heaven.

But, it’s when Roman switches gears, repositioning them so she’s on top, Solana feels emboldened. Being on top with Cruz was always an uncomfortable thing, mostly because he would make comments about her being “too heavy” to ride him.

With Roman, all the man he is, it’s not a concern in the slightest.

She bounces on top of his god-tier dick without a fucking care in the world.

And he seems to feel the same.

“That’s it……” She can feel his eyes burning into her as she rocks down on him, her big breast bouncing back and forth. “Ride my dick just like that, baby. Take what you need.”

And taking is exactly what she’s doing, because if this is a once in a lifetime chance to be fucked, thoroughly fucked by a man like Roman Reigns, she’s going to ride it until the wheels fall off.

Some pun intended.

Roman growls, big hands pressing into her meaty hips. “He can’t never fuck you like this, fill you up like I can.” His lips are hot and pressured against the neck. “He can’t do shit for you that I can.”

She knows exactly who he’s referring to, and not a single lie is being told. “Little ass pussy squeezing the hell out of my big dick.” She moans, pulling his hair as he sucks on her tits, stopping only to again tease her, “you like that shit don’t you?”

She doesn’t stop, just professes all of the wonderful things he and his equally wonderful member are doing for her. “I love it. Fuck, I love it.”

“That’s all you needed. Someone to fuck you nice and right.” Again, it seems this man is incapable of lying, Solana hissing as he squeezes her ass cheeks while his tongue plays with her areola. “Take that stress all out on me, baby. Let me relax you.”

There’s something inherently stressful and relaxing with the way she can’t seem to find the space between reality and fantasy, with how he’s giving her a form of escape she never thought possible. Guiding and talking her to that beautiful point of release. A place she’s never been able to reach before.

Not like this.

Never like this.

And Roman is perceptive, he can see it. Big hands moving up her back, holding her against him, guiding her on top of him. “Come for me, baby.” It’s less a command and more a plea, his voice almost desperate. “Wanna feel you come undone all over me.”

“Mio Dios!”

Solana is squeezing him, her nails pressing into his skin, her head in the crook of his neck as she comes, hard, heavy, overwhelmingly beautiful and chaotic. And his release comes shortly after, Solana enjoying the sensation of his strong, hulking body against hers, the way his face shifts into something so sensual and perfect as he jerks up into her, emptying into the condom.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just long enough for her to start feeling him go soft inside her. That’s when he eventually and carefully lifts her off and lays her down on the mattress, Solana panting and staring at the ceiling. She feels the dip in the bed as he gets up, obviously to dispose of the condom.

It’s only then she realizes that the absence of him inside of her is….noticeable.

A tiny bit of her eager to have it again. To have just one more taste of that deliciousness.

Even if she probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Or ever.

Roman returns to the room, completely unbothered by his nakedness. She readies for him to climb back in the bed with her, maybe even ask her to leave.

But, he doesn’t.

No, he instead moves back to his previous spot at the edge of the bed. Grabbing her by her calves, he starts sliding her down.

“I told you.” Her pussy flutters as he spreads her thighs, face to face with her swollen, puffy pussy. “I’m gonna make the most of the time we have.” And Solana is already moaning, already anticipating another round of insurmountable pleasure. “Starting with you coming in my mouth at least three more times…..”

—-------

It’s a strange, unexpected experience for a lot of different reasons. One, Roman has never really been one to let women ‘stay’ the night. He gets his nut, she gets her, and he sends her on her merry way.

And while Solana isn’t staying the night, she remains in his bed. And not just for sex. He gets her to come again in his mouth twice more before she pushes him away, citing that she needs a break.

He gives her that, but what happens next is….unexpected, to say the least.

Pillow talk.

It’s fucking pillow talk that’s started by her simply running her fingers along his tattoos, asking what they mean and represent. That’s followed up with him asking her about her tattoos, which leads into literally hours of them just laying in bed….talking.

No sex.

Just…..conversation, and normally, Roman would shy away from such a thing like the plague. It’s just never been his thing.

But…..with her…..it’s different.

He enjoys hearing her talk, the things she shares with him, the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, how her eyes light up when she discusses her daughter with so much adoration and love. He enjoys her presence, the fact that she treats him like…..like he’s normal.

Like he’s not who he actually is, a large part of that being because she doesn’t know who he is, and that probably needs to change. Will change. Just not right now.

He just wants to enjoy having someone to talk to, and it’s easy with Solana. He doesn’t have to second guess motives or intentions or wonder about what kind of hint she’ll drop about wanting something materialistically from him like Sam.

It’s just easy.

So much so that he ends up having a bit of a hard time with letting her out of bed as 11:20pm rolls around, with her once again reminding him that she needs to be home by midnight. He understands it though, respects her dedication to putting her daughter first.

It’s still a bit of a drag for him, a sense of almost disappointment that she can’t spend the night.

Again, wholly out of his norm.

When they pull up in front of the apartment complex, he finds himself asking, “this is your friend’s place, right?”

The driver has just opened the door for her, but she looks back over her shoulder before climbing out. “Yes, why?”

Roman waits until they’re both standing outside, as he pulls her close to him, enjoying the sight of her wearing his jacket around her body. “Do you need me to take ya’ll home?”

With a soft smile that has him thinking once again about how soft her lips feel pressed against his, she answers, “no, we’ll just stay the night here. It’s late. I don’t want to disturb Raya.”

It’s also way too late for her to be on the road, let alone on public transportation with a baby, hence why he offered.

Pleased with at least that, Roman shares without much thought, “I want to see you again.” And again. And again. And again. Her presence is…..calming in a way he’s not used to.

But, he could certainly get used to.

Mischief sparkles in her pretty eyes. “See me again or see me again?”

“Both.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana knows that. Can see that while he probably desires her sexually as much as she does him, it’s also something different. Something deeper.

It has to be for her to lay in bed with him for hours just talking.

But, she also knows something else, something that she can’t and won’t negate. “Roman, I—I have a child. I can’t—I can’t just sleep around with you like that. I can’t do friends with benefits.”

“I’m not asking you to.” And the honesty continues as he pushes back some of her hair. “I’m just asking you to give this a chance.”

The word this has her stomach tightening as well as the way he’s looking at her. With such authenticity. The same way she’s probably looking at him.

Solana’s volume dips as she shares with just as much honesty. “Soraya is my number one priority.”

He nods. “I respect that.”

“She comes first.”

“She should.”

Solana grows quiet. It’s hard to find a reason to disagree with someone who’s being so amenable, and really, what would be her basis for disagreeing? She’s grown. He’s grown. He’s acknowledging that he recognizes her daughter will always come first. What more does she really need?

What reason does she have to not give this a chance?

“If we do this….” She takes a deep breath, fingers grasping at the soft material of his shirt. “You can’t be with anyone else. You can’t be sleeping with random woman while you’re fucking me.”

Because she went through that once. Ignored the signs because she wanted to be happy.

Never again.

Especially not when it comes to her health.

There’s a bit of hesitation on Roman’s end that she partially understands. She highly doubts this was his first one night stand. “That’s fair,” he finally agrees.

Solana can’t hide her surprise at him not throwing the same stipulation back at her. “You don’t want me agreeing to the same thing?”

Roman chuckles and pulls her into him,“ nobody else could fuck you like I can. You know where it’s at. This the only dick you're gonna ever want now.”

Her cheeks are flushed. “You’re arrogant.”

But not wrong.

And he voices as such. “It’s not arrogance if I can back it up.” She can’t find it in her to disagree or to call him out, because again, there is no disagreement. “I wanna see you this Friday.”

She can’t deny the small spark of excitement at his offer before the weight of reality sets back in. “I was gonna pick up a shift, Roman…..”

He shakes his head, offering, “I’ll give you whatever you’d make on average.” Solana’s eyes widen a bit. It’s one thing that he already snuck a stack of money in her purse when she was redressing to leave. It’s another for him to continue to offer to financially supplement what she would miss out on by being with him.

“Roman, you can’t…..” That’s trailed off by another realization, even if there is still a small smile on her pretty face. “I don’t think I can get a sitter again.”

Another shrug as he says so plainly. “Bring her.” The horrified expression on her face makes him chuckle as he explains, “we won’t fuck. We can go out to eat again and then back to my place. Now, if she happens to fall asleep and we have some time…..”

Solana’s smile remains as he drops his hand to her ass, palming it, reminding her that this man really did keep her underwear. “You’d be okay with that?”

He explains so calmly. “You have a daughter. I’m not going to pretend she doesn’t exist. If we’re going to see where this goes, she has to be included, too.”

It takes her by surprise. The way he’s so easily going along with this. For some reason, Solana always imagined re-entering the dating world would be stressful given her dedication to always putting her child first. Most men these days don’t get that or aren't trying to “deal” with that. And then there’s Roman.

So…..easy.

It’s nice. Very nice.

“How about this?” She moves her hands up his chest, feeling how he tugs her even closer. “We can go grocery shopping, and I’ll cook dinner for us.”

Roman smirks, looking down at her. “I got you cooking for me already?”

She giggles, reminding him. “I like to cook. It has nothing to do with me wanting to do anything for you.”

“Hmm. That’s fine. There’s a lot of different things I wouldn’t mind doing for you.” She sighs against him as he squeezes her ass again. “Especially to you.”

Solana can’t say she would be opposed to that.

Either of them.

Finally breaking away, she acknowledges, “I need to get inside.”

“Mmmm.”

Her smile is stapled at this point. “Goodnight, Roman.”

His eyes flicker with something. "Goodnight, Solana." She's walking up the steps when she remembers his jacket. Shuffling back over, she attempts to take it off, only for him to reach out and stop her. "Keep it. It's yours." Finger to her chin, Roman rubs his thumb along her still swollen bottom lip. "Just like you're mine now....."

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

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remlionheart · 1 year ago

Text

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

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Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

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You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

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The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

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#chuuya smut #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #soukoku #rem writes

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