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aemsgirl · 1 day ago

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In Spite of Us.

Modern Aemond x Reader.

Summary: Raised in an orphanage before being adopted by the same family, you and Aemond have always been bound by something deeper than childhood friendship. Darkness. Obsession. The kind of things that burrow into your minds and refuse to leave. In a world that couldn’t care less about either of you, the harsh truth remains: you’re all each other has—whether you like it or not.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Incest, drug and substance abuse, mention of graphic violence, mention of murder, mention of parental abuse, smut, degradation, possessive behavior, dub-consent.

In a world this fucked, it's no wonder it spits out people just as broken. Twisted up, chipped, and ready to snap. Minds that don't play by the so-called normal rules. You’re a glitch in the system, the full stop shoved into the middle of the sentence. A ticking bomb of chemical chaos, or maybe just the gnawing hunger that’s been chewing you from the inside out since day one. You knew it. Aemond knew it. Always did. You didn't fit, never would. For a while, that shit felt like a curse—like a weight tied around your neck. But then it became second nature, like breathing in poison and calling it air. You stopped fighting it, stopped letting it tear you apart. You didn't just wear it; you owned it. Hell, maybe you even died for it.

Aemond sometimes wondered where it all started. Maybe it was that hellhole of an orphanage, where they threw you both like trash. Not a home—just another cruel joke. A meat grinder, with its hunger pangs, freezing walls, and the constant line-up for scraps that were never enough. You were quiet, too fucking quiet, and that made people look at you sideways. But then there was him. The shadow that stood between you and the bigger boys who thought pain was a game. You didn't know why he gave a damn. Maybe it was that time you woke up in the dead of night and saw him sitting on the floor, staring at you like some ghost that couldn't rest. The dark didn't bother him, and his silver hair sure as hell didn't make him harder to spot.

He was there. Always was. And you? You were his shadow, just as much as he was yours. Years didn't change a damn thing. Then that joke of a family came along, slapped the word adoption on you both like it meant something. A better life? Bullshit. Things didn’t get better—they just shifted into another shade of misery.

Mum? She spent her days with a bottle of cheap wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other, blowing out clouds that reeked of fake watermelon. She used to say the sweet ones were best, even if they tasted like shit. And Dad? Oh, he loved Aemond’s silver hair. Loved it so much that when he was about to lose his temper, he'd hold onto him like some sick lifeline. But that didn't stop the scars. Those stayed, etched into his skin, courtesy of the belts and threads Dad liked to use.

Crying? Aemond didn't cry. He didn't have to. The silence screamed loud enough.

Years dragged on, and one day you weren't some helpless kid anymore. But the bullshit didn't stop—if anything, it cranked up a notch. You remember the screaming. How could you not? Dad’s twisted little excuses, his shitty jokes that got uglier every time, all just another way to go at you or Aemond. And Mum? She was barely even there—when she was, all she did was scream too. The sound of her begging still rattles in your head. “Stop. It hurts.” Over and over, bouncing off the walls like it could break something in him. It never did.

So, you did what you always did. Slid under the covers next to Aemond, the only refuge you had. Not that he reacted much. He’d just lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling, cold as death. It was like lying next to a corpse. But it was better than being alone. At least, that's the lie you kept feeding yourself.

It was during one of these times that you felt him react for the first time. His fingers slid down your thighs under the covers, gripping them firmly. They traveled up to your waist and disappeared under your shirt. His cold fingertips mapped your spine as if they were counting the bones there, his breath blowing at the back of your neck, and he leaned closer to bite your neck, hard enough to leave a mark on your jaw. You felt every sensation, as if the devil himself was licking your skin raw and bathing it in his saliva. When his hand found your breast and rolled your nipple between his fingers, you arched your hips back, and as you wiggled them, you found his member already hard under his loose shorts.

After that, it was like two beasts were being released from their cages at the exact same time.

Aemond turned his body and spread your legs, not even bothering to take off your shorts or yours panties, just pushing them aside. Pulling down his shorts revealed his cock, almost throbbing your name. At least that's what it seemed like, since he was calling for you. Grabbing your thighs, he parted them even more and thrust into you in one swift motion, until your groins slammed together. Over and over, growing in your ear, while using one hand to cover your lips, muffling the desperate cries of pain and ecstasy that escaped. His cock became a mess with your scent and the blood from your first experience, going deeper and deeper.

It was too much, for both your body and your mind. Your nails scratched into him as if you were ready to disintegrate him, the screams that had tormented your nights before vanished. Sweat clung to your bodies and the clothes you still wore, your walls squeezing him, pulling him even deeper. You felt whole, so fucking whole that your eyes rolled back. That was when you reached the first true orgasm of your life, before feeling Aemond pull out and spill over your belly, staining you in more ways than one. It was almost peaceful.

The peace shattered when the bastard stormed into the room. It didn’t feel real—more like some fucked-up fever dream. He yanked Aemond off you and threw him to the floor like trash. You tried to get up, but he was on you in an instant, his fist smashing into your face so hard it sent you sprawling back onto the bed. Your nose was leaking blood, your vision blurry as hell, but through half-closed eyes, you saw it all.

He mounted Aemond, his fists raining down in a storm of violence. But this time? This time wasn’t like the others. Something snapped. Aemond's thighs locked around the old bastard’s torso, flipping him over with a strength you didn’t even know he had.

That was it. That fucking line—the one that should never have been crossed—was gone.

Aemond let loose. His fists came down again and again, each punch sinking into the man’s face, his nose collapsing under the blows. Blood sprayed everywhere, pooling on the ground like a sick offering. Aemond’s knuckles turned black and blue, the flesh split and soaked in crimson, but he didn’t give a shit. He grabbed the bastard by the hair, slamming his head into the floor over and over, screaming like a man possessed.

The crack of his skull splitting open echoed through the room. Blood spread out like a dark halo around his head, but Aemond didn’t stop. No, stopping wasn’t in the plan. He wanted to tear the son of a bitch apart, piece by piece, rip him open from crown to toe, exposing every festering, rotting bit of ugliness for the world to see.

You saw it—the exact moment that piece of shit raised his hand and jammed his thumb into Aemond’s eye. That was it. No more waiting, no more thinking. You shot up from the bed, your hands grabbing the first thing in reach—a pen from your desk.

Your heart was hammering like a war drum as you moved in, the sharp tip aimed and ready. One step, and the pen sank deep into his left eye. You didn’t stop. Not until his face was a grotesque, unrecognisable mess, blood and pulp dripping down like something out of a nightmare.

When he finally stopped moving, you looked over at Aemond. His face was the same cold, detached mask he always wore, but his raw, trembling hands betrayed him. His silence was deafening.

You thought about saying something—hell, anything—but the scream cut through the room like a blade. Your head whipped to the side, and there she was. Your mother. Sliding to the floor, hands clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She was still naked, her body a wreck from whatever that bastard had been doing to her before he’d turned his attention to you both.

There wasn’t time to think—fuck, thinking wasn’t even an option. You were on autopilot. Aemond was the first to move, landing a punch on Mum that sent her sprawling to the floor, her scream cutting off like a bad record. You didn’t even flinch. You were already moving, grabbing a backpack and shoving in whatever the hell you could find, yanking on the closest clothes without a second thought.

When you were done, you looked back at the scene—Mum on the ground, Aemond standing over her, the room still reeking of blood and chaos. You knew it then, as clear as the blood on your hands: you were fucked. This wasn’t something you could crawl back from. So Aemond found their stash of cash, shoved it into your bag, and bolted. No goodbyes, no second guesses. Just running.

Every moment after that was soaked in fear. The shitty motels you both crashed in, the greasy diners where you shoved down food that tasted like cardboard, the endless paranoia that came with every passing police car. Red and blue lights haunted the back of your eyelids, flashing like some kind of sick countdown. Every night, you stared at your fingers, half-expecting handcuffs to snap around them. But they never came.

The anxiety started to dull, forced out by exhaustion and the silence that hung between you two like a heavy fog. You never figured out why no one came looking. Maybe no one gave a damn about that bastard. Maybe the world had just decided to let you off the hook for once. Whatever the reason, the answers didn't come, and you weren't about to go digging for them.

Aemond was the practical one, the one with the plan—or at least the one who acted like he had one. He decided your next moves, no questions asked. He wasn’t afraid to dive headfirst into the filth, mixing with the worst kinds of people. And why the hell not? Everyone was scared of him. They didn’t see a guy—they saw a rabid animal, barely tethered. That suited him just fine. It suited you just fine. Fear opened doors, and Aemond kicked them wide open.

By working the right angles and talking to the right scumbags, you both found some good shit to sell, and before long, a shitty little hole to call home followed. He was always making extra stops, running his own little side deals with people who made your skin crawl. You didn’t ask questions, though. You knew better. Some of it was personal—his own brand of chaos that you didn’t dare get involved in.

And when things went sideways? When his preferences left a trail of wreckage behind? It always came down to you to clean up the mess. Blood, lies, broken promises—you were knee-deep in it, scrubbing his mistakes off the floor and praying no one noticed. That’s just how it worked.

So when you came home that morning, boots in hand, tiptoeing in like you were trying not to wake a sleeping beast, what you walked into didn’t shock you. Not really. You were past being surprised by shit like this. The living room floor was painted in scarlet, the blood so fresh it looked like it might still be warm.

And her? She was sprawled there in the middle of it all, like some fucked-up display. You couldn’t even tell what colour her hair was, not with how soaked it was in blood. Her throat—well, there wasn’t much of it left. Torn open, barely held together. Her face still stuck in this frozen mask of terror. Clothes? Forget it. She didn’t have a shred on her, just skin bruised all over like someone had been working her over for hours.

You took another step, then another, and there he was—Aemond. Lounging on the couch like it was just another Tuesday. Legs spread wide, head tipped back, a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth, smoke curling up toward the ceiling. Blood covered him—his chest, arms, hands. It was everywhere, dripping down him like some grotesque masterpiece. The only thing untouched? His sweatpants, the one clean piece of fabric on him.

He didn’t even look at you. Just sat there, exhaling a long drag of smoke, like he’d just come back from a jog instead of whatever the hell this was.

"Where the fuck have you been?" His voice cut through the suffocating silence, sharp and loaded with accusation. You could have laughed—really could’ve—at the irony of him asking the questions when the room looked like this.

But you didn’t laugh. Not because it wasn’t funny, but because when you looked at him properly, you saw that he wasn’t in the mood for your shit. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding into that cigarette like it had personally offended him. The black hair he’d been dyeing since everything went to hell was sticking to his pale, blood-slick skin, smoke curling around him like he was burning alive from the inside out.

He was pissed. You didn’t need to ask why.

“I went out for drinks,” you said flatly, like it wasn’t even worth a conversation, leaning down to drop your heavy boots onto the floor with a thud. That’s when it hit you—the ache in your thighs, sharp and unforgiving after hours spent dancing, grinding all that tension out of your body. You straightened up slowly, your muscles protesting, your gaze flicking back to him like you were daring him to say something about it.

"All night?" His voice was low, almost too soft. It was ridiculous, really—how the hell could he sound like a goddamn feather when everything about him screamed destruction? It was like he was about to rip you to shreds, but still, the tone came out smooth and menacing. "Are you sure?" The second question came, quieter, sharper.

You squinted at him, head tilting slightly, trying to piece together what game he was playing this time. Every time you left, it was the same damn thing. Coming back to that look in his eyes—something primal, dangerous, like he could rip through you without a second thought. Like he wanted to hunt you down, drag you back into the house, and break you apart, just like he did with the girl on the floor.

And goddamn it, you knew. You knew the thought had crossed his mind more than once. Every time you pulled some shit like this, he probably imagined slicing you open, testing how much you'd bleed. You didn’t even have to ask. You could see it in his eyes.

"Yes, all night," you answered, your voice sharp with irritation. He wasn’t the one who should be asking questions—not after the bloodbath he’d left on your favorite rug.

Aemond exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. Slowly, deliberately, he stood up. His bare feet made no noise as he walked toward you, stepping over the body like it was just another object in his way. You met his movement with your usual defiance, head held high and chin up, not showing an ounce of weakness. But that only seemed to make things worse.

He closed the distance, stopping just inches away, his hot breath hitting your face. He tilted his head down, leaning in closer, nose brushing against your skin as he took a deep sniff, his eyes narrowing as he examined you for something he didn’t want to see. The smell of blood, alcohol, and sweat mixed in the air, the tension thick enough to cut.

"You let someone fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dark and low. He exhaled slowly, searching your scent for any trace of another man’s presence.

Your fists tighten, nails digging into your palms as the sharp, metallic smell of blood mixes with something unmistakably Aemond—anger, frustration, and that volatile edge of his temper that never seems to stay contained. You should be used to it by now, the question always hanging in the air, the same shit over and over. The way he digs into it like a damn animal, hoping to find something he can’t.

"No." The word slips out, tight and clipped, your jaw clenching as you force the response. You see it in his eyes—the search, that desperate need to find an excuse, something to justify whatever the hell this is.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips, shoulders dropping momentarily before he tilts his head back, the movement slow and deliberate. You watch the way his throat works with the motion, the sight making your own lips dry. Then, without warning, his hand is in your hair, fingers curling tightly around the strands and yanking back hard. The pain is sharp, like a dagger to your scalp, and you’re quick to grab his forearm, trying to pull him away, but it’s useless. His grip is ironclad.

"Fuck off!" you gasp, the sting radiating through your scalp, but instead of backing off, he tightens his hold, the pull sending a hot rush of tears to your eyes as your skin stretches, every nerve alight.

Without any kindness, he begins to drag you across the room until he reaches where the girl's corpse now lay cold. Kicking the back of your knees, he brings you down to the floor on them, holding tightly to your hair. He positions himself behind you, pressing your cheek against his, using his grip to angle your face better towards the scene.

"Are you lying to me now, you fucking bitch?" his words are poured directly into your ear, the tone so deep it seemed to vibrate from his chest.

"I already said no!” you answer through gritted teeth, the unbearable pain in your head made worse by the amount you drank the night before.

With a grunt, he forces your face to the ground, pressing your cheek into the blood that was there, his open palm on your other cheek. He takes a moment to observe you in that position, so fucking at his mercy. He could break your jaw right now if he wanted to. He could mix your blood with that of the filthy whore on the ground. He could; it would be so damn easy, and you knew it.

"Yeah? You know what's gonna happen if you keep this up, don't you, little dove?" He smirks, grinding your face into the blood, the scent overwhelming your senses as he presses his body against your hunched, aching back. "Come on, scream it out, you fucking know." His voice, though low, slices through the air like a command.

"Fuck you!" you spit back, defiance burning in your eyes, refusing to yield even as the pressure on your jaw intensifies, like he's contemplating grinding you into the damn floor.

His hand snakes up under your dress, yanking it up until it's bunched around your waist like a cheap trophy. You squirm, but he just smashes your face harder against the floor, a silent fucking threat. His fingers creep between your thighs, hunting for any trace of dried cum, like he's some kind of detective in this sick game. His thumb brushes over your panties, feeling the dampness—not the old kind, no. You're getting wet for him right now, aren't you? Pathetic as fuck. He shoves the thin fabric aside, prying your flesh open with his fingers, delving deep, his lips curling in a sneer even as he bites down on them, craving to dive in, to sink his teeth into you, to chew up that whole defiant attitude of yours.

"Look at the fucking mess you've caused," he spits out, his voice as thick and hoarse as yours. He yanks your face up, his hand clamping around your jaw like a vice, forcing you to see the body sprawled out in front of you like some fucked-up centerpiece. "This is your goddamn fault, it was supposed to be you." His whisper slices through your ear, loaded with venom.

And he fucking means every word. It was supposed to be you bearing the brunt of his rage, dealing with his insanity when you pull your disappearing acts, when you don't give a shit about how worried he gets, how out of his mind he goes imagining what you're up to out there. How many more times does he have to spill blood, just to stop himself from snapping that pretty neck of yours, to punish you instead of some random street whore who looks like you just to vent his frustration?

"Yeah?" you manage to retort, attempting a smirk but his grip on your face makes it a twisted effort. You push through, showing him how much you mean it. "Then do it now." You're practically daring him, knowing damn well you'd go through with it.

Silence hangs thick and suffocating. You watch his fingers stretch out, then curl back into fists, like he's psyching himself up to finally break you. You almost embrace it, judging by the calm breath that escapes. You're ready for it, but then he lets you go, suddenly, and if it weren't for your hands catching you, your face would've kissed the floor. Your eyes track him as he strides over, hoists the girl's body onto his shoulders like she's nothing but a useless sack of bones.

"Clean this shit up," he orders, his voice cutting through the air, and your glare deepens.

You watch him walk off, heading to the garage with the girl's body swaying like some macabre metronome. The moment he's out of sight, you're left alone with the blood pool, aching knees, a pounding headache, your dress still rucked up, and your panties askew. And the worst part? You're dripping wet, throbbing, feeling hollow inside. Maybe that's his real punishment. Fuck him.

The hours blended together in a haze of endless scrubbing. The floor was an unforgiving mess, and no matter how hard you worked, it seemed like it would never be clean again. He hadn’t come back. You could only imagine where he was, dealing with the aftermath of everything he’d left behind. The carpet was ruined beyond repair, and everything you'd used—the cloths, the sponges—was burned, destroyed to erase any trace.

It was second nature by now. The motions, the repetition, the burning sense of inevitability. You'd done this so many times, it was like your fingers had become one with the sponge, hardened by the constant, futile effort to make it all disappear.

When it was all over, you were drenched in sweat, and the shower stretched on longer than you'd meant it to. You scrubbed your hair, your skin, trying to wash away all the filth from the night's ordeal. Your muscles screamed from lack of sleep and a day spent scrubbing, the water initially running dark with the grime. But damn, it felt good, so fucking good. Stepping out, you towel-dried yourself, slipping into a pair of panties and a blouse that might've been black once; you couldn't tell anymore. It wasn't yours—it was his.

As you headed out, you knew you'd run into him, and right on cue, there he was. He'd just arrived, helmet still in hand. His clothes were different, suggesting he'd cleaned up somewhere—likely at one of the crew's places, probably asked for help to deal with the "problem," and as always, he managed it. He carried a bag, full from what you could see at this distance.

He takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you drying your hair in the hallway before he advances, his steps deliberate and unhurried. When he reaches you, his face is that unreadable mask, giving nothing away. You couldn't tell if he was still pissed, if he felt any satisfaction or relief, or if he was just numb. With him, you never could.

His fingers dive into the bag, emerging with a Twix bar, the golden wrapper catching the light in his eyes. A small smile plays on your lips, and he returns it with his own subtle smirk, just a slight curve, no teeth. He unwraps the chocolate slowly, and once it's free, he brings it to your lips, tapping gently against your bottom lip. You open up, taking a small bite, and from the look in his eyes, he's completely captivated by the sight. It's like he's back at the orphanage, remembering how you'd pester him incessantly for these, how your eyes would light up brighter than anyone else's. No wonder there are several of these stashed in the fridge now. Idiot.

You take the candy from his grasp, holding it yourself, but his fingers don't retreat; instead, they rise to your cheek, where there's a hint of red that might bruise. His doing, no doubt. His thumb gently strokes the tender spot as you take another bite, the slight pain from the bruise barely registering. Your eyes lock with his as he steps closer, his head dipping to plant a kiss on your jaw. His lips feel like ice against your skin.

You feel him take a deep breath, as if to confirm your presence. His mood seems to have lifted, even if slightly. His lips trace a path down your jaw, along your face, while his hand moves to the side of your neck. Another small smile graces his lips, sending shivers down your spine.

"You stink," you mutter, though there's no real venom in your words. True as they are, the potent scent of sweat and dirt from him is overwhelming.

He inhales deeply, grunts, and uses the hand that was on your neck to push your face aside, not gently but not with the force he could muster if he really wanted to hurt you. That wasn't his intent right then. Without another word, he snatches the towel you were using and vanishes into the bathroom, the door shutting you out, leaving you to chuckle quietly. The dessert? You polish it off in one more bite, savoring the taste.

Back in the room you share, the window is always open, blue lights casting a glow on your skin, mingling with the smoke you exhale. On the table in front of you lies a near-perfect line of white powder, like winter snow but with the harsh burn of the summer sun. You lean over, one nostril pinched by your index finger, and take a sharp inhale, making the yayo vanish. The bitter taste hits your tongue, stars pulsing behind your closed eyes. Your heart races, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple.

At the door, Aemond stands, observing silently. But soon enough, you catch his presence, tilting your head to see him. He's clad only in loose black shorts and white high-top socks, his black hair wet and dripping, his shoulders still marked with black, suggesting he's just finished dying it. The drops of water on him tell a story of their own. His pupils, dilated, nearly obscure the icy blue of his eyes, and his shoulders are relaxed, hinting the bath had been beneficial. Whether that's a good sign or not remains to be seen.

"Didn't you wait for me to start?" His voice carries that familiar low tone as he nods his chin toward the remaining coke on the table.

A mischievous smile curls your lips, and with a nonchalant shrug, you acknowledge his comment. It's not like the supply is dwindling; you have more than enough, stockpiling for both use and sale, probably more than you should use. Either way, he won't go without.

"Not very nice of you, sis." His tone could almost be called playful if it weren't Aemond speaking, and humor was the last attribute you'd attribute to him.

With deliberate, slow steps, as if he intends for every part of the room to sense his presence, Aemond approaches, and there's this glint in his eyes that you've never been able to fully describe. From childhood to now, it's been there—those dilated pupils, intense, his gaze almost vacant, like he's not fully there. It can seem manic, sending a chill through you under certain lights. It's a trait of his that has barely changed.

He stops at the edge of your chair, pausing for a moment. His thumb delicately brushes your nostril, wiping away the residual powder with an unexpected tenderness that seems foreign to him. Then, with an even slower pace, he kneels before you, between your legs. His hands glide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly, pulling you forward with a force that brings you to the chair's edge, compelling you to grab the backrest to keep from falling off completely.

"If you step out of line," he murmured, his gaze lifting to meet yours. One of his hands maneuvered your thigh onto his shoulder, positioning himself closer to your core. "You know I'm going to kill you, right?" The words were sweet, calm, but their sincerity was unmistakable. He would do it, and he could do it so effortlessly.

You nod, swallowing hard, not out of fear—oh, you wished it was fear—but it was heat, excitement, adrenaline, like sugar melting directly into your veins, ready to roll your eyes back in ecstasy.

"Yeah, you know," he whispered again, his breath hot against your panty-covered intimacy. "That's a good girl." His hands then traced down your thighs, exploring every inch of skin and hair as if they were part of a map he was memorizing.

You watch him intently, the cocaine still racing through your veins, making your heart pound and every nerve tingle. He reaches for the table, picking up the small pin with the remaining coke, and brings it close. With precision, he drops some on your inner thigh, using his pinky to form a line that leads directly to your pussy. He's always so calculated, so infuriatingly in control, it makes you want to tear your hair out.

Leaning in, he covers one nostril, then inhales, sliding forward until he's taken the coke from one end to the other, his lips meeting your panty-covered intimacy at the end. His pulse quickens with the drug's effect. The bitterness of the cocaine mixes with the sweet seepage of your arousal through the fabric. His lips, eager to claim ownership, find your taste more intoxicating than any drug. He swears your pussy is the ultimate narcotic, the only one that can truly bring him down, flowing through his veins smoother than heroin. It's a fucking god.

His tongue slides over your intimacy, and your hands grip the chair and table tightly. You know not to touch his hair; if you did, all hell would break loose. So you cling to the furniture, seeking some semblance of control. His lips savor you like you're the ripest, sweetest fruit, his tongue swirling, gathering saliva which then drips down your panties, blending with your own arousal. He makes you clench and clench, craving more without pause.

"Fuck," you moan, head thrown back, the fabric around your waist now feeling like an intolerable barrier. "You are so good, so good." The words spill out, not so much thought as they are a direct translation of the sensations coursing through you. In that moment, he felt so good.

His teeth graze your skin lightly, perhaps in response. His grip on your thighs tightens, leaving marks that would soon purple, claiming you as his. Again, and again. His hands travel up, fingers hooking into your panties, dragging them down your thighs, discarding the now-soaked fabric. When his gaze returns, it's to the sight of your pulsing, glistening flesh, the taste of you already imprinted on his tongue. It's the part of you he adores most, the most exquisite fuck he could never tire of. He feels like if his lips were bound, he'd chew through the ropes just to taste and devour you completely.

"You're so fucking beautiful." His thumb traces through your folds, finding your clit, the soft sound you make in response making him bite his lip hard enough to nearly break skin.

Leaning in, he first presses his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent like it's something sacred. He slides down, breathing you in. His tongue, slick with saliva, extends, slowly tracing from your entrance up to your clit, his eyes lifting to lock with yours, watching your reaction unfold. Your lips part in ecstasy, your eyes locked on his, painting a scene of paradise right before him. The warmth spreading through his body feels like floating on clouds.

"Such a good pussy." His voice is muffled by your heat, the vibrations echoing inside you like he's already within.

His lips work with such intensity that it sends a sharp ache through your core. He explores every inch, tongue rolling over every detail, collecting your taste, swallowing eagerly. His nose glides along, then his chin rubs against you, moving his head side to side, letting your arousal paint even his cheeks. He devours your pussy, and with every gush of your wetness, a moan escapes him. Your hands clutch the chair, almost breaking the wood in your grip, the pleasure coursing through you, as slick as your insides now feel.

Pulling away from your heat, he rises to your lips, sharing your taste. His hands find the back of your knees, lifting you effortlessly from the chair, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You feel his hardness through his shorts, throbbing against you. With quick steps, he moves to the bed, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. Your tongues dance in a deep, wet kiss, the sounds unrestrained.

As he lies back, you follow, his hands urgently gripping your hips, pulling your thighs, trying to coax you higher, towards his face. He needs this, craves it more than air itself.

"Ride my fucking face," he demands, his breath heavy against your lips, breaking the kiss only to speak.

Encouraged, you move up the bed until your knees straddle his face. His hands swiftly guide you down, his face fully enveloped by your heat. His tongue plunges deep, while your hips begin to rock in rhythm. The heat is overwhelming; you yank off your shirt, revealing your breasts, nipples hard and waiting. His eyes catch the sight, his brows knitting together, a needy sound muffled by your pussy.

His hands travel up your stomach, fingertips tracing your ribs, causing your body to shiver, before reaching your nipples. He pinches them between his fingers, making you grind down onto his face with more force. Your hands cover his, urging him to tighten his grip, and he complies. He momentarily pauses to bring his fingers to your lips, allowing you to lick them one by one, then returns them, now wet, to your nipples, teasing and pinching the hardened peaks.

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum, Em," you gasp, arching back, your hips grinding with a desperate speed, your nails digging into his forearms as he flicks his thumb over your nipples, mirroring the delicious torment on your clit.

He nods, his chin tilting to drive his tongue deeper. Your walls clamp around him, your movements faltering as your thighs weaken. You look down just in time to see him suck on your clit with renewed vigor, his teeth grazing it, pushing you over the edge. A raw scream tears from your throat, and you clutch the headboard to keep from collapsing forward. And he licks you, thoroughly, consuming every drop of your release.

Your body, now pliable and exhausted, allowed him to easily slide out from under you, lifting you just enough for his head to escape. You collapse back into a sitting position, your back still trembling, mouth open in a silent moan. Then, your ankles are seized, pulling you across the sheets until you're lying flat on your stomach, your thighs shaking and weak.

"You're such a dirty slut, aren't you?" His voice comes from behind, his hand tracing down your soaked inner thighs. "Such a good little slut." The words are punctuated by a sharp slap on your ass, the impact nearly twisting your body.

He observes the quivering form you've become, the fingerprints on your skin already starting to mark you. You look so beautiful, post-orgasm, with your essence still dripping from you, ready for him to drive you into oblivion. His hand dips into his shorts, freeing his throbbing cock. Looking down, he spits on it, using his fingers to spread the saliva along its length.

"Are you going to scream for me, sis?" he murmurs with a hint of malevolence. He steps forward, spreading your legs and teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, watching you writhe. "Scream on my dick, scream. Do it for me, hm?" He bites his lip, savoring how your entrance clenches around his tip.

He thrusts just the head in again, watching you squirm before pulling back, using one fist to brace himself on the bed and the other to hold his cock steady. He teases you, inserting only the tip, making you moan and arch back, trying to take more, but he keeps it shallow. His eyes are glazed with desire as he watches you clench around him, your body begging for more.

"Please what, little dove?" he nearly spits out, pushing in a bit more before withdrawing again, leaving you empty, tight, and craving more.

Your hips sway side to side, arching off the bed in pursuit of him. You feel him enter you once more, his soft moans barely audible, just for you, and damn, how that makes you even wetter, soaking the sheet that's all too familiar with your scent and taste.

"Please fuck me," you whisper, turning to look over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in what feels like a challenge.

It was like you'd just slapped him across the face with your words. Without a moment's hesitation, Aemond thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt, the hair at his pelvis meeting your ass. His hands dig into your flesh, gripping tight as he begins to pound into you, each thrust deeper and harder, his balls smacking against your drenched clit with every impact. His gaze drops to watch his cock disappear into you over and over, your arousal glistening on him, spreading to his lower abdomen. Your screams fill the room as your body rocks with each movement. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelmingly good, he feels like he wants to drive his cock right through you, straight into your skull.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, seizing your hair with one hand, pulling it back to whisper close to your ear as he leans over you. "You can barely take me, can you? I'm going to draw blood from that tight little cunt of yours, like always." With that, he thrusts even deeper, eliciting a choked scream from you.

Your body shakes under his relentless thrusts. Your eyes are half-closed, tears at the corners; your feet lift, toes curling, saliva escaping from the corners of your mouth onto the pillow. The deep penetration is overwhelming. His gaze confirms the mix of blood with your arousal around his cock, spurring him to thrust in completely, grinding deep inside you, feeling your walls contract around him with fierce intensity.

"You look so pathetic like this, just a hole to use." He releases your hair abruptly, his hands returning to your hips, nails digging in.

With his last ounce of strength, he pulls your hips back, lifting them, positioning you on your knees. You attempt to prop yourself up with your hands, but there's no strength left, so you remain with your cheek pressed to the mattress. From this new angle, he can penetrate even deeper, turning your screams into whimpers of excruciating pleasure mixed with pain, your arousal now dripping down both your thighs.

"No, no..." you whisper, barely audible amidst your whimpers. "Fuck..." Your voice fades as your mouth hangs open, drooling onto the pillow, your fingers clutching the sheets.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Aemond replies, a small, genuine smile curling the corners of his lips. "Cum for me, cum nice and sweet for me." His hand comes down, delivering a sharp slap directly onto your clit.

Your hips instinctively try to escape, but he secures you with an arm around your waist, keeping you still, taking all he gives like the good girl he knows you are. He spits into his free hand, then returns it to your heat, circling and stimulating your clit, squeezing and flicking it, feeling it pulse under his harsh touch. Your walls constrict around him, signaling how close you are.

"Aemond, Aemond..." you try to warn, but the sensation overwhelms you before you can finish.

Your walls clamp down, a loud moan breaking free from your lips as your body convulses, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. Aemond's eyes roll back, the sensation of you gripping him so tightly driving him over the edge. A growl escapes him, more beast than man, as he wraps both arms around your waist, pressing his cheek to your back. He thrusts deep one final time, holding you there, ensuring every last drop of his release is spent inside you until you're left utterly spent. His cock pulses within you, matching the rhythm of your own spasms.

Your body collapses forward, and he follows, bracing himself so as not to crush you. He observes your closed eyes, your body sliding into what looks like a deep, heavy sleep. He loves you like this—silent, immobile, utterly vulnerable. The thought of your helplessness reignites his arousal, despite himself.

With a sigh, he withdraws from you, flopping onto the bed beside you. The room reeks of sex, mingled with the remnants of cocaine still in his nostrils and your taste, seared into his memory. You don't move, just manage to close your mouth with effort, your jaw sore. You don't anticipate tenderness or kisses; you know better than that. Silence fills the space, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing.

"What did you did with the girl?" you hear yourself asking, despite knowing better. Maybe you want to know, or maybe it's just the impulse of the moment.

"It's none of your fucking business," comes the expected, sharp reply. "Shut up and go to sleep." His tone leaves no room for further discussion. After moments like these, he's never in the mood for conversation, unwilling to soften because you've drained him with that perfect pussy.

He turns his back to you, lying on his side, and silence envelops you both. He doesn't want to talk, doesn't want interaction. He doesn't even want to hear your voice right now. Because, fuck, how much he truly craves all of that.

#moder aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #aemond #fanfic #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #smut #dead dove do not eat #prince aemond #martin in the modern world #aemond one eye #modern #modern aemond x reader #dead dove fic

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hwaslayer · 2 days ago

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the space between us three (jyh) | four.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 4.5k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/ sexually implied content, sorry more of a filler chapter cause i need to build this up lol 😅 but more oc x yunho!!, taehyun & jihoon tryna play cupid, well ok i guess everyone is at this point lmao, seora and yunho have a lil heart to heart

Monday comes a lot quicker than expected, but you're glad the weekend was better than you thought it'd turn out. Running errands and spending the day with your parents was actually a lot calmer this time around— no bickering or arguing unnecessarily, mom wasn't picking at things or pointing out specific details just to work your last nerve.

It was good. It did make you feel bad for not being better about spending more time with them, though.

But, that's why you vowed to work on it with your brother and you knew you both were serious about making it happen. Better late than never, and you and Wonwoo could admit to your faults.

That's progress and a way forward, right?

Anyway, the agenda went as promised with your family— you ended up at the grocery store for about an hour before driving down to the pharmacy and different furniture stores until you and your parents settled on a new, good quality couch they were satisfied with. When you had gotten back to the house that afternoon, mom sent you away with towers of food and Yunho hadn't gotten back home yet.

Couldn't help but wonder what his typical weekend was like with his daughter. Was that weird? He seems so laidback [despite his dad tone coming out on Saturday before leaving], it just makes you wonder what him and his daughter do to fill their downtime together.

Must be cute.

When you got back home that afternoon, you had tidied up your place and showered off the early day's activities before preparing a charcuterie board, wine and other finger foods for Noeul and Sian's arrival. It was a much needed sleepover since it had been awhile since the last one— the three of you getting caught up with work and being too exhausted to meet outside of it. You and the girls talked about everything and anything; from new updates on old friends from college and highschool and analyzing every detail of their recent photos on IG, to love, dating and all the juicy one-nights, to what's been on the grocery list lately and then finally, openly exploring the topic of sex toys and all that glory.

Very, very much needed.

In fact, sleeping in the next day and getting breakfast with Noeul and Sian at the cute café nearby was the cherry on top. You finally got to taste that thick, milk bread with coconut-pandan jam sprinkled with tiny bits of sea salt.

Your weekend was better than expected.

For Yunho, it was a bit chaotic; filled with an impromptu sleepover with 11-going-on-12-year old girls screaming and singing at the top of their lungs after a long day of shopping and eating out. They all plopped onto the large air mattress Yunho set up in the middle of the living room, their voices slowly dying down as the hours went on. They didn't fall asleep until a bit past midnight, which is when Yunho decided to finally shut off his TV and get some shut-eye himself.

Then, the morning came and it was chaos all over again.

He overheard the girls talking and giggling until Seora gently knocked and walked into her dad's room to wake him up. His eyes fluttered open, his daughter sitting on the edge of his bed poking at his cheek. He sleepily chuckled and sat up, ruffling her hair messily while she asked if he could take them to a specific breakfast spot deep into the city.

A spot that has thick, milk bread with coconut-pandan jam sprinkled with tiny bits of sea salt and other unique delicacies.

Even though he's exhausted, he gets up and gets ready anyway. Not only because of Seora, but because he can finally get a taste of that fig sesame and honey danish and grab a bag of those milk bread dinner rolls for him and Seora to indulge in.

It's too bad he had just missed you leaving the same spot.

Monday mornings are usually a drag, especially coming from a much-needed, good, relaxing weekend. But today, you're powered up on coffee and making sure you have your things [and yourself] ready for your meeting with Yunho. You're not sure why you're nervous; perhaps, it goes back to you feeling lost and confused about different aspects of this project. You don't know much about the IT and clinical informatics side, and you don't wanna come off as dumb, clueless.

Especially in front of him.

You're just hoping for the best, and you've sat yourself in the booked conference room to go through old emails, old messages, to get yourself up to speed. You do remember being looped into certain threads, but not paying any attention to it because it didn't particularly concern you at the time— which, is a good thing you did because you definitely would not have known there were specifics about the ordering system that the higher-ups had already asked for and that they were already working on the build. You can ask Yunho where things are at from that point.

That’ll be a good start.

As you continue to busily type away for other aspects of the project and personal tasks, you almost miss the figure that passes by and walks into the room.

"Woah, you're here early. Why?" Your eyes slightly widen at Yunho's tall figure strolling in with a cup or coffee in his hand.

"Because I wanted to be early, but apparently you're earlier." He smirks, plopping down next to you. "Working hard already? Goodmorning, by the way.”

"Sorry, goodmorning.” You scrunch your nose a bit, embarrassed at how you greeted him. “I just.. don't wanna sound dumb in front of you so I've been getting all my notes together." He chuckles.

"Never? No question or thought is dumb, Y/N. I don't expect you to know everything about our team. It's complicated."

"Still, I wanna be prepared."

"You are." He reassures you and it instantly comforts you.

"Are you gonna sit there?" He looks at you with a brow cocked up.

"Yeah, why? Do you want me to sit across from you?"

"No, I'm just asking since it's us two. I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable that way." You chuckle.

"Oh, sorry. I hope you don't mind. I invited Taehyun and Jihoon from my team. I thought they could come to meetings in case I'm not around for whatever reason." He shrugs. "Plus, it just helps me to have extra heads involved in case I needa delegate."

"Makes sense, I don't mind. The more the merrier."

"Is it okay to still sit here?" He smiles and you nod.

"Sure." You laugh. There's a small silence that falls between the two of you while you both type away, along with Yunho's Slack notifications going off. But, none of it feels uncomfortable.

"So, how was your weekend with your parents?"

"Good! I just tagged along and ran errands with them. Picked up some meds, groceries. They finally got a new couch for the living room, too."

"Your mom has been talking about getting a new couch for awhile."

"She's definitely happy now." You look at him. "You know, I.. did not know you were the neighbor my mom had been talking about."

"Good things, I hope?"

"Oh yeah, my parents love you and your daughter." You look at him.

"They're great. They take care of us a lot, and I appreciate it. Especially on days when I can't be home right away. Your mom looks after my little-but-not-so-little one." You give him a tiny smile. "I— how come you don't swing by often? If you don't mind me asking."

"Just busy, honestly. My brother, too. He's younger. We get caught up with work and plans."

"Your parents talk about you two a lot. They adore you both and they always hope you'll come by more often."

"I know." You look down at your laptop. "We just suck at slipping in time for them, I'm gonna admit. And it's just.." You pause, not wanting to dump your life story and feelings on Yunho on a Monday morning. He looks at you with a hint of concern in his eyes, but you brush it off. "Anyway, we're trying. We know we needa do better." He smiles a bit. "My brother and I have talked about it and have come up with a plan so that we're slotting in time for them."

"That's all that matters. Are you and your brother close?"

"Very, yes. If you're around next weekend, you might get to meet him because we'll be swinging by together."

"Hm." Yunho hums. "My daughter has a basketball game and it's about an hour out. We might be gone by then, but if you and your brother are around when we get back, I'll gladly stop by to say hi."

"Sounds good. How was your weekend?" You ask and Yunho lets out a small chuckle at the way you try to fill in the silence while waiting for Taehyun and Jihoon.

"Busy. I, uh, hung out with a friend on Friday." He clears his throat. "Then took my daughter and her friends out on Saturday. When I saw you.. that's where we were going."

"Aw cute. Where did you guys go?"

"Well, I picked up one of my bestfriends and we took them to the Samsung Star Mall."

"That's a big mall. Sounds like you were there all day."

"Damn near, yeah. Then, grabbed some takeout, let the girls pick up their things from their homes and headed back to the house. They were yelling and singing like crazy after dinner." You laugh.

"That's very cute." He does a slight head tilt.

"Anything for my daughter." His eyes are glued onto his screen.

"What's her name?"

"Seora."

"That's a beautiful name." He gives you a small toothless smile.

"It is, isn't it?" You nod.

"What'd you do on Sunday? I assume you were able to sleep in since the girls must've been tired."

"Kinda, but Seora ended up waking me and asking if I could bring them to a café for breakfast. They were so excited about it."

"Which?"

"We went to Morning Toast." You gasp and look at him.

"That morning? What time?"

"Like 11?"

"I had literally just left right before it hit 11!"

"Really? That's too bad. It would've been nice to see you." He chuckles a bit, and it makes the heat rise to your cheeks. "Though, I had temporarily adopted like, 2 extra daughters so it was a little crazy. I might've looked a little out of it." He thinks for a minute. "Maybe it was best you didn't see me at that moment."

"What do you mean? I'm sure it would've been fine if we did run into each other. I'm positive you probably didn't even look that way."

"How could you be so sure, hm?" He teases lightly before chuckling. "I've had pre-teens singing at the top of their lungs at the house and in the car all weekend. Pretty sure your parents probably heard them next door." You laugh.

"Sounds like your house is the place to be. Maybe I'll have to inquire about a quote for hosting my birthday there."

"I just need about 3 months advance notice." You look at him and shake your head, giggling. At this point, his team lead, Taehyun, walks in with a smile on his face though it's obvious he's a bit stressed and has been running around.

"Hi! Sorry! Was caught up with a ticket." He rushes in, slightly out of breath and frazzled. Behind him is another team member that you haven't met yet. He meets your eyes and gives you a tiny bow with a small smile, slipping into the seat next to Taehyun in front of you.

"Hey, I'm Jihoon." He sits. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the meeting last week. Was tied up with some urgent issues."

"Oh, no worries! It's nice to meet you. I'm Y/N. I'm one of the project managers, mainly supporting the pediatrics unit."

"Good to meet you, too." Jihoon smiles. "It's nice to get some communication from the peds side."

"Yeah, I feel the same." You chuckle. "So, I saw that the build was already in the process." They all nod.

"It sure is. But, I thought it'd be good to give you a brief introduction to both of the IT and clinical informatics team just so you know how we interact." Yunho connects his laptop to the TV, causing you to turn your attention towards the screen. "Is that okay?"

"No, please. I'd love that. Take the floor." He smiles before running his finger down his bottom lip and beginning his presentation. He starts off by re-introducing the three of them before going through the names of his other direct reports. The next bits of his presentation explaining the core tasks his team is responsible for and the differences with the clinical informatics team. He goes through the key people in that team and you find yourself typing away while glancing at the screen every now and then. You find his explanation incredibly detailed but simple enough for you to understand. It's super helpful, and you feel like you've definitely learned a lot from the meeting alone. This was the one area you weren't entirely familiar with, and it was nice that the three were open to answering your questions and clarifying anything that might've seemed confusing. You also learned that they've gotten a good amount of the planning and groundwork done for the main hospital unit. Now, they can focus a lot of their efforts towards the pediatric unit.

At the end of the meeting, Yunho gives you the floor to ask any more questions. You take the opportunity to clarify last minute things that come up before you're satisfied enough to finish up.

"So, let's plan on meeting with the full group next week. Then from there on, biweekly meetings? I'm sure the group won't be opposed unless there's absolutely no updates to provide in that time frame. We can always cancel if needed."

"Good with me, boss lady." Yunho says, giving you a small smile.

"Not even." You chuckle, typing up the last of your notes. "I'm just trying to coordinate and make sure things run smoothly."

"Which is a shit ton since you're overseeing the entire project." Jihoon laughs.

"Yeah. You're spearheading the whole thing and without you, it'd probably be a mess." Taehyun chuckles a bit. "We don't really communicate with the pediatric hospital much, so it's nice to have a bridge." You nod.

"I agree."

"Definitely boss lady if you ask me." Yunho looks at you, causing you to shy away for a moment.

"Maybe you and I can set up weekly meetings to update each other?" You look at Yunho, then Taehyun and Jihoon. "Or Taehyun, Jihoon—"

"Yunho is probably the best. He's everywhere. He knows everything." Taehyun chimes in quick. At first, Jihoon and Yunho are confused even though, it's definitely the right answer and they'll always defer to their manager in these situations— not because they don't think they can handle it or relay the proper information, but because it just makes them feel more comfortable doing so. Jihoon cocks a brow up before Taehyun meets his gaze and gives him a look that tells him he should play along and go with it.

"O-Oh, right. I agree." Jihoon stumbles on his words a bit before returning his full attention to you. "Yunho can answer all your questions without issue."

"Yeeeeah." Yunho says, slightly furrowing his brows at them before looking down at you. "Let's just keep it between us? If I really can't make it, I'll just email you with some notes or something."

"Okay." You chuckle, making a note to coordinate calendars with Yunho later and set a reoccurring invite. "I'll message you later about some good days and times. See if we have any matches."

"Cool."

"Well, thanks guys!" You smile at them brightly. "I really appreciate your time and for thoroughly walking me through everything."

"Of course." They all say in their own way as you shut your laptop and stand.

"We're gonna debrief in here for the remaining minutes before the next meeting comes in." You nod.

"See you next week? Feel free to email or slack me if anything comes up."

"You too." You wave at them before walking out of the room and shutting the door, finally feeling like you can breathe comfortably again. You speed off to your desk once you’re out of view, hoping to see Noeul and Sian at some point to talk about the meeting.

Meanwhile, Yunho watches as you leave— his eyes trailing your figure until you're no longer in view down the hallway, and Jihoon is snorting while typing away.

“Debrief time!” Taehyun says.

"Soooo." He finally breaks the silence post-laugh in a sing-song tone. "How'd your thing with Ara go?"

"Uh." Yunho laughs a bit and they both look at him confused. "No, it was fine. It's just.. I don't know? I don't think I feel anything for her to be quite honest."

"Well, first of all. What do you mean you don't know? What did you guys end up doing? How did we get to this point?" Taehyun asks, making Yunho do another head tilt.

"Tough crowd. Too many technical questions." They laugh. "We just had ramen at the new restaurant and then we hung out at her place." They both pause and look over their screens to meet his eyes.

"What happened to 'we're just gonna do a harmless dinner and call it a night?'"

"For the most part, it was."

"What about the other part that wasn't?"

"We ended up making out and then.. I stopped it." Yunho says calmly, which is confusing Taehyun and Jihoon.

"Oh shit." Jihoon looks at Yunho with an amused expression. "What?! You didn't feel anything for her?"

"I— no, not really."

"Damn." Jihoon ticks his head to the side.

"What'd she say when you stopped it?"

"She understood where I was coming from, I think? I tried to lay it down gently and I told her I didn't wanna do that to her. I thought we were good as friends, and she deserves someone that is sure of their feelings."

"That's good."

"Yeah. Well. I hope so? I hope it didn't ruin our friendship."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. She might need some space for a bit, but I'm sure it'll be okay. I know she appreciated it."

"Yeah." Yunho looks at them. "Anyway, back to the main discussion.” He laughs a bit. “I think we have our work cut out for us. We should continue to stay on top of those tickets and try not to let them pile up, but we should also prioritize securing the network for this unit. Making sure there's no roadblocks. I'll keep up with the clinical informatics team to keep mapping out the ordering system." The two ahead of him nod simultaneously. "Feel free to delegate things on your plate to other team members if you don't have the capacity to take them on right now."

"Got it, boss." Jihoon adds.

"You know, if I may say so." Jihoon and Yunho look at him, confused. "Y/N's pretty." Taehyun smirks.

“Oh, here he goes.”

"She's also really nice." Jihoon laughs, knowing exactly where this is going. "Seems like you two get along easily."

"I didn't know our team doubled up as a matchmaking service."

"Only for you." Jihoon snorts at Taehyun's remark.

"So, that's what the whole thing was about."

"What whole thing?" Taehyun acts dumb.

"Having her set up those meetings with me only. Even though the both of you have covered in the past.”

"I mean, it's only right." Taehyun smiles. "Besides, you can learn a lot about each other, too."

"Uh huh." Yunho looks at them before shutting his laptop. "We'll see how it goes."

"You agree though, right?"

"About what?"

"About Y/N?" Taehyun and Jihoon follow Yunho's lead as he stands and stretches, grabbing his laptop to prepare heading out back to their office.

"And if I say yes?"

"Then remember to thank me in the end when it all works out." Yunho laughs.

"Can't get anything past you two either, I see."

"Did Seora know about the date?"

"No, but I also think she has inkling because Hwa's dumbass let it slip." They laugh. "I called it a team dinner and he somehow let 'date' slip at some point during his stay with her."

"Ah, but I'm sure she'd be fine with it."

"I don't know. She's hard to read. We talked a bit about it this weekend but even as her dad, I can't really gauge what she means or how she feels."

⇢FLASHBACK

"Daddy." Yunho looks at Seora as they make their way home from dropping off her friends. Her voice is low, and it's obvious she's tired from her weekend but content.

"Mhm?"

"Thank you for letting my friends spend the weekend with me."

"Course, baby girl." He chuckles. "I'm glad you had fun."

"I did." Her voice is a bit raspy from all the yelling and singing they did all weekend. "It was so much fun. And I got so many cute things this weekend."

"You're welcome." Yunho teases.

"Thank you." She laughs. "You're the best."

"Mm." He hums. "I try to be."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." There's a pause, and Seora is fiddling with the ends of her hair.

"Nevermind." She says close to a whisper.

"Ace." He turns to her at a green light.

"I just don't know how to ask. But, it isn't anything super important anyway. Let’s forget it—”

"No. You opened the door. Remember what I said about keeping an open communication between us?"

"Mhm." She hums. "Well..” She nervously fiddles with her fingers now. “I just wanna know if Uncle Hwa was right? Did you go on a date?"

"Hm, well. I went out to dinner with a friend. That's all."

"Do you like your friend?"

"No. We're really just friends." Pause. "Besides. I know you wouldn't be happy, right?" He chuckles a bit to make it a little light-hearted joke, but there's a genuine curiosity behind his question. He hasn't talked to his daughter about this, and he's a little surprised she even brought it up. But, maybe she too, had been curious.

"I mean." She sighs. "Uncle Hwa told me to keep an open mind about it."

"He did now? But, how do you really feel, Seora?"

"Of course I’d want you to be happy. It'll just be different, though. It's always been us two and we haven't really had anyone like that around besides mom. I can’t really see it right now.”

"I know." Yunho responds quietly.

"I want you to be happy, though. Just saying it’ll be weird if that ever happens. Might take time, I guess.” She looks at him sadly. “You won’t replace me or mom, right?”

“Never.” Yunho’s heart sinks. "When and if that time comes, I'll always prioritize you no matter what." She smiles. "Okay? None of that.”

"Okay." She giggles a bit when her dad reaches over to gently massage the top of her head.

"Now, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you miss mom?" He asks.

"Yeah. I do. I think about her sometimes, but it's hard when I don't have many memories with her."

"I know, I'm sorry. I wish you had more time with her."

"I do, too. At least I got some time with her." Yunho nibbles on his bottom lip when he feels her response hit him in the gut. Right now, he knows he's not ready to talk more about Eunha. He knows he can't handle it. He already feels himself internally panicking, the anxiety rising. So, he pivots.

He pivots because he just can't.

"Yeah, well. We have each other now and that's all that matters. You're stuck with your dad. Sorry ‘bout it.”

"Stop it." She laughs.

"Promise me you'll keep talking to me if you ever feel sad or alone, hm? Don't ever think you can't talk to me about these things, ace."

"I know. You never make me feel that way."

"Good."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." She smiles and leans her head back against the head rest. "I have one more favor to ask before the weekend ends."

"And what's that?"

"Can we have our own little slumber party in the living room tonight?"

"As long as you promise to shut off the TV at a reasonable time since you have school tomorrow."

"Promise." She puts up her pinky. "Pinky promise." Yunho multitasks and wraps his finger around hers.

"Let's do it."

⇢END

"It'll all work out how it should, don't worry, boss. It ain't gonna be like this forever." Jihoon adds as they finally make their way back to their office area.

"Thanks. And thanks for joining the meeting today."

"All good!" Yunho gives them one last smile before slipping into his office and settling down. He has a few more meetings and other tasks to tend to in a bit, but his first priority shifts when he sees a slack notification from you. He instantly pulls up the app on his desktop after connecting his laptop to the monitor, a small smile forming on his face when he sees your message.

you: should we just do mondays at 10am to keep things simple? i mean.. totally get if you don't wanna see me bright and early on a monday, we can check other days. 😊

yunho: no, mondays at 10am are perfect.

yunho: & don't say that. 🫤 it'll be nice to see you on monday mornings.

yunho: usually it's chaos or everyone's dead from the weekend. no in between.

yunho: you'll be the nice balance!

you: uh huh. just remember you said this, not me. 🫡 i’ll send an invite!

yunho: all good, i'll take full responsibility for it. haha. thank you!

"I'm gonna call it right now. You and Yunho are gonna get close and it'll be the start of something new." You shrug while Noeul reads the messages over your shoulder.

"I mean, whatever happens, happens. I won't be opposed to it. He's cute and super nice." You poke your bottom lip out.

"And your parents literally love him and his daughter to death already. It's a match-made in heaven."

"Well, no. I wouldn't say that." You look at Noeul. "Besides, I don't even know if he's single. Before the weekend rolled around, I saw him getting all smiley and smitten with one of the nurses at the hospital. I think they went out together."

"Ah, you never know! Just keep your options open, but definitely don't shut him out if he's dropping little hints. Get to know him more, see what he dishes out. If he's taken, then you've earned another friend and it could blossom into a great friendship. No loss there!" Noeul crosses her arms and smirks. "If not, then please make sure you enjoy yourself."

"Sometimes, I really hate when you and Sian are right. Makes me feel—"

Ding.

Your phone goes off at the corner of your desk with a new notification. You lean over to grab your phone and check, your eyes widening in the process:

yunou._.u started following you.

"Oh bitch, he is definitely single." You and Noeul quickly skim his page before you shake your head and plop your phone down.

"Stop it! You never know."

"That man barely has posts!" Noeul picks up your phone again and plugs in the code. "Look! Pics of his surroundings. His daughter. Him and his friends. That's it!"

"You're impossible."

"You are! You just won't accept the fact that an extremely hot dilf could be coming your way and I don't know why!"

"Don't say that!" You quickly look around. "Can you keep it down?!"

"I oughta smack you upside the head for that!"

"Go away, don't you have another meeting in like, 10 minutes?" Noeul looks at her phone and it's her turn to be surprised.

"Oh shit, more like 5 now. I gotta go and hop on this call." Noeul begins to rush away, but she turns back towards you again. "You better follow him back, Y/N!"

"I am! Go!" You wave her off and she turns halfway to finally head back down to her office— barely making it in 5. You look at your phone once more before giving it a few minutes, letting the notification settle before deciding enough time has passed since Yunho followed you.

You didn't wanna be too quick, right?

But, when the notification comes back on Yunho's phone saying that you've followed him back, he can't help but smile. The notification puts him in a good mood, enough for him to figure out his next plan on how to get to know you better.

He'll settle for a simple like on your latest photo. Maybe, the next one, too.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 days ago

Text

Patchwork

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Stitched Together | Pull the Thread | In Stitches | Frayed Edges | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It had been weeks since that night where you dad almost caught Bucky at your place. Since then, Bucky deterred his people (and himself) from going to you if they needed medical aid. Not only were your dad's people still casing around your neighborhood, but that night really solidified that things definitely weren't meant to be for you and Bucky.

You were living a content and normal life and he was ruining it for you...again. He didn't want to bring you into his shit, but dammit did he miss you. His heart being pulled in your direction whenever you were near.

He pulled away from you before. He could do it again no problem and you can go back to living your life again. You wouldn't have to sneak around behind your dad's back and he wouldn't have to worry about anyone using you against him.

It'll be fine.

Sacrifices needed to be made if he wanted to continue living this life.

________________________

You're pissed off. Bucky has left you on read for weeks. After your dad left that night, you checked on Bucky. Only he wasn't in your room anymore. He snuck out the window only leaving you a note and wad of cash.

You texted him asking if he got home safe and all he did was give you a thumbs up. When you asked if he could come by so you can check on his stitches, he just read the text and didn't respond.

The first few days you were worried that he might've died. But then you randomly ran into Sam at a restaurant and asked if Bucky was okay.

"He's fine. That's all I can say."

"Seriously? That's all you can say?"

He shrugged at you, "Sorry, Y/N, but I have some business to attend to," he gestured to the man across from him, who stared at you with pleading eyes.

"Right. Sorry," you apologized and went back to your table to continue your meal.

You texted Bucky: So did you tell your people they can't talk to me now?

Read

You grumbled and tossed your phone back into your bag, stuffing your face with food to feel better.

Now several weeks have gone by and you've just been pissed to no end. You do your best to not let what happened with Bucky affect your job, but your fellow nurses can see something is wrong.

They did their best to try to get any info out but all you said was that you were essentially ghosted by a friend. That's as much as you could tell them because there was no way you were going to tell that your ex-boyfriend now mob boss of Brooklyn came back into your life and you were providing medical aid to him and his group on the down-low and then he suddenly disappeared on you, only leaving you on Read and it's pissing you off.

Pretty sure if you told them that, word would reach your dad and you were not going to deal with that.

So you just went with being ghosted by a friend and left it at that.

If only you knew Bucky wasn't doing any better.

To everyone in his organization, they could see how on edge he was.

Every time he looked at his phone, there was a gleam of hope in his eyes and then his gaze hardened. His jaw would clench and he would pocket his phone immediately.

They were all confused on why they suddenly weren't allowed to go to you for medical aid. All Bucky had told them was that they "just can't anymore and that's final."

Sam was the most confused. Usually, being Bucky's right hand, he knows everything behind Bucky's reasoning for things. But for this, Bucky didn't tell him anything. Jack shit.

He wanted to help Bucky whatever was going on and not just because Bucky was Sam's boss but also because they're friends. But all Sam got when he asked what down between you and Bucky was "shit happened is all" not giving any hint of what said "shit" was.

All Sam could tell was that there was a dullness in Bucky that he'd never seen before.

_________________

America and Cassie suggested the three of you go out. It was a Friday night and you weren't working the next morning. So you three dressed your best and went to a club that just opened.

It took about forty-five minutes to finally enter the club but it definitely wasn't a disappointment. There were three levels, each filled with people sitting and drinking, the dance floor crowded as music was booming all around.

America led you to the bar, a round of shots to start the night. You clinked the shot glasses with a exclamation of "Cheers!" before downing the clear liquid.

You were then lead to the edge of the dancefloor, the three of you moving your bodies to the music. You felt yourself loosening up as the alcohol made its way through your system and you got into the rhythm of the music.

The night continued on like that. More shots, more dancing, the occasional potty break that took an hour long each time because the line for the women's bathroom was always long. You didn't even know how many shots you'd taken, but you were definitely feeling a little loosey goosey now.

The three of you eventually found yourselves on the third floor of the club. It was restricted to VIPs but America started chatting with a very gorgeous woman and she ended up inviting all three of you to her table she was sharing with some friends. When you reached said table, your eyes widen when you see one of her friends happens to be Bucky, with a beautiful woman sitting on his lap.

In your inebriated state, you went off on him.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN , HUH?! AND WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T YOU BEEN ANSWERING MY TEXTS?! I WAS WORRIED AS SHIT AND HERE YOU ARE COZYING IT UP AT A NIGHTCLUB?!"

The entire group look between you and Bucky. America asks, "You know him?!"

Bucky shoots up from his seat, apologizing to the woman who was previously on his lap, "Sweetheart, not here."

"OH FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO ESPECIALLY AFTER ALL THE TIMES I-MFF" Bucky cups his hand over your mouth and gives you a stern look.

"You're making a scene!" He then yelps when you bite him, "The fuck, Y/N!"

"YOU DESERVE MORE THAN THAT YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

The beautiful woman who was on his lap asks, "Are you guys together or something?"

"No!" you both respond in unison.

You glare at Bucky and he sighs, "Fine. Let's talk. We'll go to my office."

"Your off-you own this club?!"

Bucky smirks, "Co-own with my friend, Steve. Now come on before you make a bigger scene." He grabs your hand and you slap at his hand.

"Don't touch me! I can follow you just fine!" You turn back to America and Cassie, "I'll be back."

"You want us to come with you?" Cassie asks.

You shake your head, "It's fine. I'm safe with him...I hope," and you continue to follow Bucky before they ask anymore questions.

____________________

In Bucky's office, you sit on a plush couch, frowning, arms crossed over your chest.

Bucky closes the door and gets a proper look at you, making it very clear he's checking you out. Which pisses you off even more.

"Stop looking and get to explaining, Barnes! I thought something bad happened to you and then I see Sam and all he says to me is that you're fine. Literally, what the fuck, Bucky. If I did something wrong, then at least tell me and not leave me on fucking Read!"

He sighs and runs a hand over his face, "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."

You shoulders sag and you look at him sadly, "Then why won't you talk to me?"

Fuck. Bucky's resolve is weakening as you look at him with sad eyes but you also look so gorgeous at the same time.

"It's-I-" he groans, "Fuck, sweetheart, I shouldn't have come back into your life."

"Why?"

"Because it's not gonna go how I want it to. We can't be in each other's lives again. It's not meant to be. I'm a criminal and you're the daughter of the chief of police! Everything I've worked hard for, your dad wants to take down. Not to mention, I'm putting your life in danger just from you knowing me."

"I'm a grown ass woman, Bucky, I can do whatever I want!"

"Would you tell your dad that we're friends again?" He asks with a serious expression on his face.

You gulp, staring at him as you think of what to say. He nods, "Exactly. That night when you helped me and your dad came over, it hit me that it'd always be like that. Sneaking behind your dad's back, not wanting to upset him and me not wanting you to get hurt because of the life I lead. We're doomed, sweetheart. You gotta accept that."

"I don't want to," you murmur sadly, "I like having you in my life again."

"Me too, sweetheart, but these are the cards we're dealt with," he helps you stand to your feet, "Want me to help you find your friends?"

You shake your head sadly, "No."

"Okay. Stay safe out there, sweetheart."

You lean in and peck Bucky on the cheek, "You too, Buck," and you see yourself out of his office, allowing tears to run down your cheeks when you close the door behind you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

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lenoue · 3 days ago

Note

“he wants to know now that he is the patriarch of their family, Sam will submit to him. he doesn't want that submission to be shared with John.”

yes! and there’s actually such interesting subtext to it. i’ve been thinking about that one scene from playthings where sam says “he (john) was right to say it” and dean angrily reacts “yeah, well, dad’s an ass”. it’s giving “dad isn’t here anymore. but i am. i am the one you should listen/submit to. because i know what’s best for you. i am the one in control of you now”. definitely reminds me of their interaction in 5.16, sam’s “i finally got away from dad” and dean’s “he wasn’t the only one you got away from”. the way he immediately makes it about himself. yeah it’s definitely about competition with john

also another interesting example is from 4.13:

dean: i’m gonna rip his lungs out!  sam: it’s not a big deal  dean: not a big deal? sammy, look at yourself. if dad was here —  sam: he’s not

dean: well, i am!

he wants to replace john in sam’s eyes so bad it’s not even subtext it’s blatant text. which makes the wincest dynamic so much more twisted & delicious ♡

the 04.13 exchange is making me unwell bcs this! this is it! he make the decisions when dad's not around. he decides the next course of action. it was set up so early on, so glad you brought it up

yeah it's blatant text, that's what gets me riled up when people say dean doesn't become a john variant later on. it's essential to his development that he shares traits with his dad. there are 2 mechanisms that the narrative utilizes to bind sam at dean's side. one is dean's excessive need for authoritative control over the lives of everyone he is close to (sam, bobby, lisa, cas) and sam's own guilt by hurting his closed ones by actions he did that (coincidentally) questioned their authority.

and I dont want to make it sound like sam doesnt doesn't love dean, he absolutely does. but its established that sam has the capacity to exist separately despite so. in fact, he wants to. but he doesn't leave. sometimes its covert, most times its overt that dean needs to "watch over sam" (like after seeing the endverse)

and playthings ofc is a gift that keeps giving. how quickly dean jumps to speak against john is fascinating. this is a man, who would ignore, refute or deny any claims from sam that painted john in negative lights, is now stewing in mourning and resentment. (yes, I do believe he was resentful. john left their family and dean, who views leaving your family as the crime of crimes, could not accept this.) to negate the absolute hurricane of emotions in his life, he puts focus on taking control of the thing closest to him, his sammy. (god i could talk forever about how he clutches to this control for stability throughout the show)

he has already set the reality that he will save sam. it is highly inconvenient to him that sam, now of all times, is putting 2 cents to john's words when dean is right there. keep your eyes here sam, trust me, put your faith in me. I am saying I will save you, that is the only reality you need to trust now.

the vibe of "i am the bedrock of your reality" reminds you of something else?

i also mentioned in another post that dean is insecure about his position in sam's life. he doesn't like losing sammy to even his father. in dean's perspective of their childhood in flashbacks, we only see what dean does for sam. these are at the forefront of his mind. these are his validity documents for his claim on sammy. how no one can know him better. not john, not ruby, not amelia. none of them know what's good for sammy, especially not sam.

(if I had more time I'd go back to "houses of the holy" and examine why dean didn't take well to sam's faith in the divine from a wincest lens)

#samdean #wincest #d.w #s.w #spn #meta #ask

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cas-edspace · 1 day ago

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why the hell not:

Random Hermit Headcanons

———

Everyone is completely comfortable with being in hybrid form with Tango.

Anyone who normally hides it, just lets out the ears, wings, etc with Tango. He isn’t aware that not everyone has seen Etho’s face, ears, or that no one realizes that there are two vampires on the server. He also makes sure they eat, (dad) (acts of service) (and the vamps do not feed on Tango, because that gotta taste like lava or an equivalent)

—

…Just realized that I planned on adding someone to this random hc hc listing and he’s not even in Hermitcraft but who cares: Here’s one for Scott;

He’s a shapeshifter, and no one seemed to caught onto that yet. Not the floating crystals in Last Life or the fact he was suddenly half fish in Limited Life.

—

Doc and Martyn are jokingly “fighting” over Ren, but the guy somehow doesn’t realize? The pup is just rping as pirates, pirate rats, and his ears apparently doesn’t pick up “He’s mine” comments.

Zero braincells <3

—

Etho keeps thinking about the family dynamic from Limited Life, because Scar randomly calls Cleo Mom still and… gave himself a step parent? And reassigned Etho’s role?

(This is based off of the Hungry Hermit conversation:

Scar: I wanna see mom and dad play!

Tango: Yeah, sure, I’ll play

Etho: Who’s mom?

Tango: Does the answer change if you’ll play or not?

Etho: I’ll play (don’t remember exact line)

(^This actually happened, so did this v)

Scar lost his permits

Tango: *sighs* I’m going to sound like a total dad here, but where did you last have them? Retrace your steps.

Scar: (something something, doing this from memory is great, it is 2am) Alright, dads come over here

Etho and Tango follow

. . .

Etho is asking himself about the complexity of the dynamics, does Bdubs know about the new step parent? Did Scar tell him or is he supposed to- Is he overthinking the bit? Absolutely, and should he just forget it? Yes, but it creeps back up

—

Impulse is a dragon hybrid (not demon), which means he can talk to Jean, the Ender Dragon. And he does!

Doesn’t stop her from trying to kill him, though

Rest of ZITS make fun of him for this.

—

Speaking of Z, Zedaph wasn’t always a pink sheep hybrid

Cue stereotypical (cliche but I do like em) Lab experiment trauma- jk, no, he did that to himself. With science! …and not with using dyes, like he most definitely should’ve done. No one knows what other side effects that the experiments had may have caused him, but Zed is happy because he’s pink.

—

All older hermits have killed Watchers

Grian doesn’t know this.

Hermitcraft has proved itself again and again to not be easy pickings. There are reasons that the server is lasting.

—

Joel misses his wife- wait that’s just normal Joel-

—

Gem is Ares in God Games, in EPIC the Musical

Change my mind

—

Boogeyman kills leave permanently deep scars on the slain.

Bdubs once saw Tango without his shirt and… Seeing those long, jagged, deep as the day he got them scars that goes from his right shoulder to just above his left hip…

Bdubs now struggle sleeping through the night, seeing the marks he left…? The Boogeyman curse is not forgiving and makes it impossible to hold back. And Tango’s back proves it.

—

Doc can cheer…leading? He is a cheerleader. But not for the Dallas Cowboy ifykyk

—

Cub somehow cannot be trolled. we don’t know how he does it

—

When Pearl zones out, she’ll float upwards. Her dogs are trained to go get someone to help Pearl before she zones back in and falls to her (not) death. Being a ghost on a server is hard

—

Wild Life powers doesn’t fully go away. I’ll elaborate on a different post

Because this is too long, and it is 2:30 am now and I should sleep

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theocddiaries · 6 hours ago

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[The Resistance HQ is scorched and a complete wreck. Silver is sitting on the floor, looking completely defeated] Amy [gasps]: My strawberry-colored upholstered chair! My imported glass table! The coasters no one ever uses! Silver, what the hell did you do?!! Silver: Me? I just wanted to heat up some tea! Who the hell buys a novelty fire extinguisher?! Knuckles: Someone who cares enough about physical comedy to put his family at serious risk! Yes, that's the kind of echidna I am! Sonic: Guys, come on, we've got enough going on out there so we also start-- Espio [picking up burnt pieces of paper]: The blueprints and documents are goners. Sonic: We still have the computer-- Rouge [types randomly]: No, we do not. Sonic: Well, okay, we don't. But I'm sure we have a backup-- Knuckles [inhales through his teeth]: Yeah… about that… Vector: You didn’t make the backup??? Knuckles: I set up a reminder! Shadow: Yes, that's all you've been doing for the last six months, press 'remind me later'. Knuckles: Because that junk would slow down! Tangle: What about a flash drive? Did anyone save anything to a flash drive? Amy: Why would we save things to a flash drive when we were supposed to have a backup? Tangle: I don’t know, just in case we didn’t make one? I’ve only been here two weeks, and I had a feeling this would happen. Amy: Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you take charge yourself?! Sonic: Guys, stop. Okay, we’ve had a few things go wrong, but the important thing is that it was just a silly accident and not because Eggman attacked. We’re all okay, and we can start over because we’re still together. Amy: …Jeez. Sorry, Tangle. I was this close to losing it. But Sonic's right. Sonic: Sure I am. Tails, buddy, get me some paper towels, please. Tails [leaves to do as he was told] Sonic: Let's start by cleaning this place, okay? [Everybody agrees and some apologize to one another] Tails [comes back]: We're out of paper towels. Sonic [snaps]: Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?! What do you mean no paper towels?! Omega: I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO GO SHOPPING YET. Sonic: You haven’t had time to go shopping, you haven’t had time to make a backup, you haven’t had time to put the damn papers in a drawer just in case something stupid like this happens! What the hell have you all been doing all this time while I was gone, besides not looking for me and whining?! Shadow: Everyone has been doing what they could-- Sonic: And what's that exactly? Besides asking and asking like there's no tomorrow? I’m about to cough up a lung, but have any of you heard me complain? No, on the contrary, I had to cheer everyone up! Do you think this attitude just falls from the sky?! WELL, IT DOESN'T. It's taking a toll on me and I haven’t even gotten a single thank you! Instead, after rotting in a cell for six months, I have to come back here and play dad! You know what? You can shove your tea, your paper towels, and your files lost in cyberspace where the sun doesn’t shine for all I care!!!! [Sonic tries to leave the room. The door won’t budge. He struggles with it, muttering curses under his breath] Sonic: For real? This door’s still broken? Vector: It always slips my mind that-- Sonic [punches the door off its hinges]: Well, you won’t forget now. You’re welcome. [storms out] Everyone: … … Tails: Hm? Oh, wait. [opens a drawer and pulls them out]: Here's the paper towels.

#incorrect quotes #sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic forces #sonic #amy rose #silver the hedgehog #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #e 123 omega #shadow the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #rouge the bat #team dark #tails the fox #miles tails prower #tangle the lemur #source inspired by family guy

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storiesbyjes2g · 16 hours ago

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3.204 Colorful world

The food came out shortly, and Desiree forgot all about her mission to uncover the saga of how we met. Sophia got up to her old tricks, telling wild tales, making us laugh. I don't know what comes over her in restaurants, but it's always a good time. Once we had our fill of noodles, and were teetering on the brink of a carb coma, we headed back to the rental and took a proper tour of the house. It had just about everything we needed, and many more things we didn't expect, like a small yoga studio and a private hot spring. We almost didn't need to leave the house.

Desi and I settled in the living room while Sophia unpacked.

"So, what do you think about Mt. Komorebi so far?" I asked.

"I think I like it, but... It's weird here."

"Nooo, don't say that. Things might be different, but that doesn't make them weird. Every place has its own style and culture, and they're all kinda cool in their own ways. Actually, we have a lot of cultures in our family."

Her eyes lit up again.

"We do??"

"Yep. My dad's family is from a place called Monte Vista. It's really far away. But it's very beautiful and looks a lot different from here and San Sequoia. Their culture is very serious about food and influenced a lot of what we eat, like pizza and pasta."

"Pizzaaaaa! What about Mommy?"

I groaned, not because I didn't want to share her story, but because it wasn't mine to tell and she wasn't around to decide whether it got told. But her history isn't her own anymore. That is the exact reason she wanted to have children in the first place. Desiree deserves to know how she got here and who played a part in it.

"Mommy has lots of cultures in her family, so she's extra cool."

"Oooh, like what??"

"Well, part of her family is from Sulani. That's an island, so they live on the beach."

"Ooooooh!!"

"Another part of her family is from El Selvadorada. That's the jungle."

"The jungle?!"

"Mmm hmm. And a very small part of her family is from another faraway place called Al Simhara. That's in the desert where the pyramids are."

"COOOOOOOOOOOL!"

I have no idea if she even knows what the pyramids are or why they're so cool, but her reactions are sending me! She has the cutest, most expressive face.

Sophia finally joined us, asking what all the excitement was about. Before I could answer, the kid gave a very loud, excitable response.

"Daddy said you're cool because you have the most cultures!"

"Oh," she said, chuckling nervously. "Is that right?"

"Let's go outside and watch the snow," she blurted.

"OKAY!"

Desi hopped up and ran outside. Sophia lit the fireplace to keep us warm since we didn't put on our coats.

"Isn't it pretty?" she asked.

"Yes, but it sounds funny," Desiree shouted.

Sophia laughed.

"Yeah...it kinda does. I like the way it sounds, though."

I silently agreed with both of them. It's weird when the snow is thick and really coming down because somehow it can absorb sound, making it eerily quiet outside. But it also has a hushed, serene quality to it that is calming. We stood there and listened for a moment before Sophia turned around and warmed her hands. Desiree watched her, shadowing everything she did. It was the cutest thing. Despite all the time she and I spend together, and despite how much she enjoys our time, it's good to know she still desires her mother and wants to be like her.

I had plans for tonight and was eager to get my vacation agenda started, so I cozied up to Sophia, whispering in her ear.

"You should have told me you were cold. I would have put the kid to bed early so we could light a fire upstairs."

She giggled.

"I mean...you could still do that."

"Say less."

I grabbed Desi and ushered her upstairs.

"Time for bed, Des!"

"But I'm not tired!"

"You will be. Trust me! We had a long journey today. It'll hit you very soon. Just close your eyes and think sleepy thoughts."

"But I don't have sleepy thoughts!"

Once you hear us, you'll wish you did.

"I need some water," she said.

"You're fine. Drinking water will make you get up and pee later." And then you might see some things.

"I want to stay up with you and Mommy," she whined.

"I know, hon. But you'll get to hang out with us all day for three straight days. That's what's so cool about vacation."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart!"

"Okay."

She changed her clothes and slid under the covers. I tucked her in and gave her a goodnight kiss.

"Sweet dreams for our sweet potato."

She closed her eyes and was down for the count within minutes, just like I said.

I all but ran next door to our room and tore off my clothes. But to my surprise, Sophia had found another activity to enjoy.

"Luca, this is so nice! I've never done it half naked by a fire before."

Hopefully she wouldn't enjoy it for too much longer. My time was growing short. You got to strike while the iron is hot; ya know? But we are on vacation, and like I just told Desi, we're gonna have three whole days of togetherness. We don't have to burn a hole in the mattress tonight. Besides, Sophia does so much for our family, never complaining or making excuses. She deserves to relax, so I sat patiently and admired her from a distance...

But then I got a very selfish idea, heh. I never got a chance to give her that full body massage, and it's high time she sees exactly what these hands can do. First, I'll start innocently with her hands. Then, I'll hit her neck and shoulders, like last time. I'll move down her back real slow, and when I start squeezing that ass, she will be putty in my hands. It's about to go DOWN!

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #desiree amari murillo

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honeyjars-sims · 21 hours ago

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Part 2 Prologue #4: Besties

It’s later in the afternoon. The cake has been cut, presents have been opened, and now everyone is just mingling. The sun is starting to set and Chantal and I are chilling on a bench, too stuffed to move after filling up on chocolate cake and ice cream.

As we chat, I spot Glynnis and Hollis walking towards their apartment and give them a wave. I thought they might stop by and chat, but they seem busy. Chantal sees who I’m waving to and lets out a small gasp.

“Oh my God!” She cups a hand over her mouth. “That’s Hollis Abernathy!”

“Yeah, she’s my neighbor. Do you follow her on Simsta?”

“Yeah, but that’s not where I know her from. Her parents own a bunch of businesses in San Myshuno. She’s the heiress to a huge fortune–or at least she was. Here, look.”

She pulls up a gossip site on her phone and hands it over to me. I see an article from a couple of years ago with a picture of Hollis stumbling out of a club. Plastered in big, bold letters at the top of the page is the headline, "HOLLIS'S WILD NIGHT OUT."

I get a few lines into the article before I start feeling like I’m invading Hollis’s privacy. Besides, I’m not going to judge her off of what some tabloid said about her 2 years ago. People change; I know that as well as anyone.

“Okay, so what?” I ask.

“Nothing, I’m just surprised to see her here is all.”

I shrug. “She seems pretty nice. I’m gonna go mingle some more before people start leaving,” I say, and I start to wander around.

I see my dads are talking to Paul and Lucy, and they’re all laughing.

“Looks like you’re all getting along.”

“Why didn’t you tell us your roommate is such a comedian?” Pops asks. Paul beams at the compliment.

“Yeah, you should have heard the joke he just told us,” Dad chimes in. “You’d love it. What was it again? Something about a stick,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that one,” I say. “Paul’s always joking around.”

“No wonder you two get along, then,” Pops replies.

“I’m glad for that,” Lucy adds. “I figured you would, but it would’ve been awkward if my brother and my work bestie didn’t like each other.”

“Oh, I’m your work bestie, huh? Not just your bestie. I see how it is.”

“You’re totally her bestie,” Paul interjects. “Trust me, I know these things.”

“Oh, come on, you know what I meant,” Lucy tells me. “I blame it on my pregnancy brain.”

“What, you’re pregnant? And you didn’t tell me? Some bestie you are!”

“I didn’t? I thought I did. Anyway, isn’t it obvious, what with how much I've been throwing up and how big my belly's getting?”

“I have four sisters,” I point out. “I know better than to make an assumption about a woman’s body like that.”

“And that’s why you’re my bestie.”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

Transcript of article below:

HOLLIS'S WILD NIGHT OUT

08/17/2021 08:00 AM PST

Hollis Abernathy caused quite the scene on a wild night out celebrating singer Christina Dotson’s 18th birthday! Did someone forget to tell her that the drinking age is 18 in Del Sol? The blonde beauty was spotted downing drinks all night–despite only being 17-years-old.

Hollis’s parents, business-moguls Robert and Bianca, plan to give her access to a large trust fund on her own 18th birthday next year; however, friends of the socialite report that her recent antics are putting that plan in jeopardy.

“Her parents have had enough,” a source tells us. “They don’t like all of the negative attention her partying is putting on the family. They’re worried about how it will affect their reputation, especially with the Carlisles.”

Hollis has been dating 17-year-old Hunter Carlisle for several months, a relationship that was likely orchestrated by the pair’s parents who are reported to have a lucrative business venture in development. At first, Hollis and Hunter seemed like a match made in heaven, but things have quickly become hellish for the couple.

“Hollis and Hunter got into a huge fight at the party,” our source tells us. They were screaming in the middle of the club. People are saying they broke up. Christina was so embarrassed.”

Hollis’s wild night didn’t end there. Moments after her fight with Hunter, our photogs caught her making out with an unknown blonde woman. Could Hollis’s sexuality be the reason for her troubles with Hunter?

The kiss was cut short when Christina and their friend Mikayla “Micki” Davison dragged Hollis away from her would-be lover. Hollis could barely stand as Christina helped her into Micki’s convertible. Once seated inside, Hollis began yelling obscenities at our photogs, to the dismay of her friends.

“I’m not sure if Hollis is interested in girls or not, or if she just wanted to make Hunter mad,” our source said. “But she seemed pretty into the kiss.”

“You ruined my birthday!” Christina was heard sobbing from the back seat.

SMZ reached out to Hollis’s rep who simply said, “No comment.”

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lillaydee · 23 hours ago

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Matchmade Part 6

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

---

You blinked several times at her.

“How’s your mom, Tanya? Is she well?”

“Ugh, just like you to ask about her. She’s fine. Still alive. Come on, is your boss single? Hey, little girl, do you have a mommy?”

Sarah blinked at her, an obvious distaste in her look.

“Hey, when someone speaks to you, you answer,” she said, raising her voice slightly.

Sarah let go of her fork and climbed onto your lap, hiding her face in your blouse.

“God, I don’t know how you can stand kids. I was just asking a question. Sheesh. Spoiled much?”

You asked her nicely to please leave you alone, didn’t she have a conference to attend?

“Not until you give me his number.”

You just stared at her. The gall of this woman. Did she really think you would just give away his number like that?

“Oh my God,” she said, clasping her hand on her mouth, a shocked look on her face. “You want him for yourself, don’t you? You actually think you have a shot with him? You?”

She gave you a pitying look. “Look, Addie, I get it. You’re in a rut. Maybe someone like that can pull you out of it, but you need to look at yourself in the mirror first, okay? He’s way out of your league. I mean, regardless of what he does for a living, he’s here at this conference, and you are someone he pays to nanny for him. Look, maybe if you’re in your early twenties, you have a shot, you know? The cliched dad falls for nanny thing, but you’re 30 babes. Be real.”

She got up and left.

You realized then that you had your hands clasped over Sarah’s ears, the way you did with Allie when she was little, not wanting her to hear the venomous arrows Tanya had been firing at you since you were little.

It’s nothing new. She had always done this. And you didn’t always take it lying down. But as you two became adults, she was more… subtle and clever with her digs. She made sure you were in positions where you couldn’t fire back. A child in your arms, for example. Or a threat to your sister, or your job.

You had enough of her digs at your supposed failure. You had no idea why she hated you so much. The two of you used to be such good friends. And now, she seemed to have made it her life mission to make you as miserable as possible.

You made sure Sarah finished her meal and took her out to the Kiddy Zone the resort had put out sitting next to the play area watching her play or helping her with whatever activities she wanted to do. She made one or two friends and had a few snacks. Towards the afternoon, she was captivated by the face painting lady. She chose a butterfly motif and begged you to get her a pair of butterfly wings and antennae headband that was sold at one of the vendors.

You took a picture of her with her face paint and her butterfly wings and sent it to Joel. He immediately replied with some hearts and smiley hearts. She was so happy, she began talking about make up designs, and these other butterfly wings she saw at the vendor, and the next thing you knew, you were waiting for the family at the dining hall for lunch with a very excited Sarah in your arms while she was smoothing out a smudge on your face paint and straightening your wings and antennae on your headband.

The first thing the family saw when they got to their table was a very giggly Sarah, and a very dour you, your mouth in an unamused pout, your body in a surrendering posture. The shit you do for cute kids, huh? Tommy and Maria laughed supportively at you, patting you on the shoulder, and cooed at Sarah. Tess was trying so hard not to laugh at your sour face, she had to hug you to hide her face.

From afar, you saw a very smug looking Tanya stare at you, shaking her head at your face painting, wings and headband. She made a point to go to you while you were getting Sarah food, telling you that she could not believe you would go so low, dressing like a child in a room full of businesspeople just to impress a child. Only a shameless attention seeker would do that, and you obviously had not changed. Still seeking for attention wherever you go.

Joel had joined the family when you got back, and he looked at you with an impressed smile, while you walk defeatedly to the table and served Sarah her food. He laughed a little, took your antennae headband and put it on his head, placed Sarah on his lap and took a selfie, making sure that you were in the frame too. Sarah giggled uncontrollably every time the antennae wobbled on his head, a sound he clearly enjoyed hearing, as he kept wobbling his head on purpose while helping his daughter eat.

When you went to get more drinks, Tanya called you shameless, whoring yourself like that for your boss, taking selfies and acting all child-like for him. You lost it.

“What is your problem, Tanya? So I am a nanny. So I let some lady paint my face, it’s all part of the job. So what? How does that affect you in any way? Why are you so hellbent on calling me this and that? I haven’t bothered you, at all. You being here is a sign of your success. And I’m nannying, as you keep reminding me. I have nothing to lord over you, and you have everything. So why are you still hounding me?”

Her smug, sneering face snapped shut. Anger clearly taking over.

“Is everything alright, here?” Joel asked, taking you by the shoulder to his side.

Tanya immediately put on a sickly-sweet smile, “Just catching up with an old friend, that’s all,” she said.

The older man you saw him talking to that morning came up, taking Tanya by the waist. She looked disappointed, and hesitantly let him do so.

“Miller, glad to see you again. Could we have a drink this evening after your keynote? Would love to continue our discussion from this morning,” he said.

Tanya’s expression changed, she looked downright impressed, eyeing him up and down, suddenly impressed with an adult wearing an antennae headband. “You’re Joel Miller? Oh, I heard what happened to you. So happy to see you are doing well! Aren’t we, Georgie?” she cooed at him, reaching over and rubbing his arm. Joel pulled you closer to him and took a step away, going nearer the older man.

‘Georgie’ cleared his throat, and Joel told him they will talk later, he’s going to have lunch with his family now. The man nodded and shook his hand. Joel helped you get more drinks, asking you if you were alright. You just nodded, annoyed at Tanya’s brazenness. You saw from the corners of your eyes the man taking her by the hand to talk to her, while she grumpily followed, her eyes rolling in annoyance.

Sarah was falling asleep as she was finishing her lunch, so you told everyone you will see them at dinner, that you would be taking Sarah to the small amusement park later. They all gave Sarah a kiss and told her to have a good nap, Joel waiting until she was in your arms to kiss her. He put the headband back on your head and told you he will see you at dinner.

You spent Sarah’s nap time watching TV, but not really. You tried to relax, but for some reason, seeing Tanya and hearing her venomous words put you at an unease. You had a feeling that wasn’t the last you’d hear from her. She had always found ways to make your life difficult. Your biggest worry was that she would get her poison on Joel, somehow, and your job at the daycare would be in jeopardy. You couldn’t afford to lose that job. You needed to get your life in line again, having lost everything that mattered to you. You were starting from almost zero. You had a plan. Get a job, check. Get a place to stay, pending. Save some money, pending. Go back to school, pending, and right now, oh so far away, almost beyond your reach, it felt like. No matter. One day at a time. And hopefully, after this weekend, you won’t see Tanya again.

**********

Joel sat between Tommy and Tess during the conference, unable to focus on anything. He kept seeing that woman who was talking to you turn around to look at his table, trying to get his attention. She gave him the creeps. A very… ‘Liz’ vibe seem to emanate from her. He didn’t like it. And the man she was with, George, some higher up in one of the government departments, kept asking him for an ‘in’ on his business, wanting to ‘invest’. He entertained the man out of politeness but got a weird vibe off him too. He asked Tess to look into him, see if everything about him was legit.

The one thing he noticed straightaway was the fact that the man was wearing a wedding ring, and she was not. He’s not one to presume, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a wife waiting for him somewhere.

And her, he didn’t like the way she seemed to be treating you. Even from afar, she seemed to sneer at you a lot, and you, with Sarah around, never seemed to respond. So when he saw you did at the buffet during lunch, he made himself known, not wanting you to have worries this weekend. You deserve a break, even if you were technically working. He also didn’t want you mentally affected by this woman; your body language didn’t seem welcoming to her. He didn’t want that to affect Sarah too.

So far, from what he had heard from Sarah and Tess, you seemed like a great person. And what he had seen these two days, you were great with Sarah, and seemingly good natured around his cuckoo collection of a family. They all seemed to like you. He’s thankful for that.

He promised Allie he would find you, make sure you were alright. Thing was, he didn’t actually find you. More like, luckily stumbled into you. Did that count as keeping his promise? Maybe not. So, he should focus on making sure you were alright.

Two problems though.

One, he didn’t actually know you all that well. To make sure you were alright, he had to make sure you were a good person, a reliable person. What if you turned out to be a murdering psychopath? Okay, that’s not likely, seeing as you had managed to help keep his daughter alive for a month. And she loved you so much ‘Miss Addie’ might as well become a mantra. But you didn’t seem to be the kind of person who would accept help. When you told him you hadn’t decided where to inter Allie, he had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to the story, but he didn’t want to overstep. He didn’t want to throw money at you. He had a feeling you would be offended by that. He needed to get to know you better in order to help you. And this weekend, he had the chance to get to know you a bit better, and he intended to.

Two, and this might be the biggest problem of all. The problem that he couldn’t tell anyone about. The problem that might cloud his judgement of you. One that could affect how he might decide to make sure you were okay.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

But that’s impossible, right? Since he had met you that first time at the hospital all those months ago, he had met you only a few times. Sixteen times, in fact, not that he was counting or anything. All he knew was he looked forward to hearing about you when he got home, and hoped you weren’t too busy to chat a while when he dropped Sarah off or picked her up. That he would find himself unable to stop smiling whenever he talked to you. That he felt at ease with you.

Last night, when Sarah asked you to stay for him to read a story, his heart was pounding so hard he thought you might be able to see his shirt move. He had never had that experience – lying in bed with Sarah and a woman. Liz had never been interested to join in bedtime routine. It was always him alone. Over time, he found that he enjoyed them. His special time with his BabyGirl. He wouldn’t even let his Mama join the bedtime stories with her, and Sarah had never asked anyone to join in either. And last night, he found out he didn’t mind having you join in. He stayed a while after the two of you fell asleep, watching you breathe, his daughter snuggled up in your arms. Another something he had never seen Liz do. His heart did that thing again, making him feel warm all over. He watched you for so long, he fell asleep, Sarah between the two of you, his first uninterrupted sleep since the incident, until the sound of the door closing woke him up.

And today, he saw his little girl so happy spending time with you, and you… you just looked adorable with the face painting. He had to fight the urge to kiss you on the pink and red nose the painter had put on you. He could tell you were a bit embarrassed, so he took your headband and placed it on his head instead. It paid off, Sarah giggled so much his heart felt so full it could burst.

He placed his phone under the table and opened the latest photo he had taken. Him and Sarah, matching headbands on, and you, with a reluctant smile, sitting right next to him. He smiled to himself, zooming in on the picture a bit, taking in your candid face, for stock, until he could see you again in a bit.

A sharp nudge to his arm broke his smile, his eyes meeting Tess’s smirking face, her eyes on his phone, which he quickly hid in his suit pocket, meeting Tommy’s smirking face on his other side as he did so. His face actually felt hot. He put on his most annoyed face and pretended to pay attention to the speaker, seeing Tess and Tommy’s shoulders move from trying not to laugh. Maria turned, distracted by her husband’s shaking. Tommy whispered something in her ear.

And now there were three of them smirking at him.

Damn it.

**********

You and Sarah were not in the room when he went up to change before dinner. He found himself extremely disappointed at his discovery. He video called you, and you answered, a huge smile on your face, Sarah’s giggling face came into view. She was driving one of those cars that ran on a track, having the time of her life. Look Daddy! I drive! Good job BabyGirl! She was making vroom-vroom noises, and honking so much, showing off to him, he wanted to run to the amusement park to join in on the fun with the two of you. You ended the call when it was time to get off the ride, promising to meet him at the dining hall for dinner.

Dinner was spent with everyone checking in with Joel about his keynote speech that night, and Sarah showing everyone all the videos you had taken of her on the different rides she went on. So much ooh-ing and aah-ing was going on, you were really touched at how much all of them loved Sarah. She had so much fun, she was nodding off before you could finish your dinner. You got up to take her upstairs, Joel joining you, not wanting to miss bedtime. He saw Tanya watch the three of you go up, a disapproving look on her face. He chose to ignore it, taking Sarah from you, while you carried the backpack you had brought with you to the amusement park.

Bedtime consisted of placing her in bed after a slight tantrum over having to change into her PJs, so Joel had some time to kill before his keynote speech. He waited for you to shower, aware that you didn’t finish your dinner. He told you to order room service, he didn’t want you to go to bed hungry. You nodded and thanked him, earnestly wishing him luck for his big speech. He said thank you, touched that you would say that to him.

As he got back into the elevator, his thoughts were on your good luck wish. He’d been to these conferences before, and Liz had always spent her times at the spa, leaving Sarah with Mrs Adler completely, and sometimes, didn’t even come back to the room. Never once did she wish him luck for his speeches, or his pitches, he doubted she even noticed, so long as the credit card worked.

The speech was a success, and he was surrounded by so many people wanting to talk to him after. He went to the lounge for the drink he had promised George and listened patiently as the man talked. He couldn’t shake the weird vibe he was getting from this man, the vibe that got stronger as Tanya joined them, having changed into a dress that was far too revealing for a business meeting. George’s phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it.

Tanya immediately pounced, sitting herself so close to Joel she might as well be on his lap. Joel immediately moved to the next chair, placing his jacket on the chair he was on. Tanya seemed to get the hint, albeit with annoyance.

“So, how long has Addie been nannying for you? Your daughter is so cute by the way. What’s her name?”

Joel took a sip of his drink, asking her how long she had known you.

“Oh, we go way back. She used to live next door to me. We grew up together,” she said, downing her drink, and snapping at the bartender for another. “Surprised to see she’s nannying now, to be honest. Everyone on the street thought so highly of her.”

There was an annoyance to her tone. Joel didn’t like it but decided to hear her out anyway.

“So, you knew Allie?”

“Tsk, annoying little brat. You know your nanny raised her since she was two? Classic spoiled kid. So rude. Said whatever came to mind. Trust me, you don’t want your kid growing up like Allie.”

Joel kept staring at her, taking another sip of his drink.

Tanya was suddenly aware how angry and annoyed she sounded and put on a simpering nostalgic face as if reminiscing fondly at the thought of Allie, “So sad, what happened to her,” she said, shaking her head.

Joel didn’t react. He took another sip and kept listening.

She shuffled her chair closer to him. He put his foot on the chair next to him when she tried to move it. She leaned in instead, whispering conspiratorially at him.

“But see, that’s why I was so shocked you hired her. She’s not exactly trustworthy, Addison. She got fired from her last job for slacking at work, you know. She would just leave… just like that, in the middle of a workday - and came back whenever convenient. And the amount of complaints on her record, sheesh. I’m surprised she lasted that long at that job. And of course, after Allie died she spiralled. Drank herself to sleep every night. She lost her house you know? She claimed it was because of Allie’s medical bills, but who knows? She’s a great liar. Last I heard, she’s homeless now, living in her car like a bum.”

Joel placed his glass on the table, clearly reacting to this news.

“She’s living in her car?”

Tanya smiled a victorious smile. That got his attention. She put on a faux innocent, concerned face and nodded.

“Sadly, yes. You know what these people are like, I mean, what if she takes advantage of you and your money and hurt your daughter? What if she was drunk when taking care of her?”

She took his jacket off the chair between them, and sidled in next to him, her hand on his arm and thigh. He followed her touches with his eyes.

“Really, Mr Miller, trust me. I’m only thinking of your daughter. You don’t want to trust someone like Addison with your child.”

---

Part 7

@peelieblue @feenoire @vickie5446

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #millionaire Joel Miller

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